An open letter

Dear Mom and Dad,

Thank you so much for your generous donation to the "Get me the hell out of Dodge" fund. It was good to see Teresa and actually spend some quality time with her. All things considered, Teresa's doing well. She was pretty upset, though, about your refusal to attend her wedding and recognize her marriage to Bob. To be honest, I agree with her sentiment, and I have a hard time following your rationale.

You're aware that neither of them is Catholic, right? So, why are you so insistent that Bob follow an authority that neither he nor Teresa recognize? And before you start on what the Vatican says, let me ask you this: Do you consider George and Kenya married? What about Aunt Janet and John?

I can understand that you would prefer Teresa and Bob to do everything by the book, but it's really not up to you. She's a grown woman in her thirties. She can make her own decisions. Furthermore, Bob doesn't want an annulment. Aside from the fact that he's not Catholic, he finds it dishonest to deny that his previous marriage was valid, and for you to insist that he does, without actually knowing him, is insulting and offensive.

So why the refusal? Do you think you'll score some extra salvation points or something? Do you expect to show up at the Pearly Gates, and St. Peter will say, "Well, it looks like everything checks out. Wait, what's this? You recognized your daughter's marriage to a divorcee? To the pits with you!" Are you just too broke to go to Seattle? If that's the case, man up and admit it.

Or is it because it somehow makes Bob a polygamist? That's just silly. As far as the Church cares, he's only married to his ex. As far as the law cares, he's only going to be married to Teresa. Either way you look at it, it's not polygamy. Furthermore, nobody who matters in the relationship (i.e. Teresa, Bob, and Isaac) is Catholic. Why should either of them follow a set of rules that neither of them accept?

George and Kenya aren't Catholic. Is their marriage invalid, too? How do you think that makes them feel?

Have you thought about the long-term consequences? I mean, refusing to attend your own daughter's wedding because of a technicality that doesn't even apply to them is something that will taint your relationship with her forever.

Let me tell you the neatest thing about spending a week in Seattle.

I got to see Teresa in her element. She wasn't visiting from out of town. She wasn't passing through. She was at home with someone she loves. She and Bob really complement each other, and just watching them interact in a genuinely human way just cemented their relationship for me. They don't need a piece of paper to validate that.

Furthermore, Teresa is fantastic with Isaac. She has really embraced her role as his future stepmother.

But recognizing that in her is somehow a sin. Or perhaps an occasion of sin.

So, here’re your consequences for not going to your daughter's wedding (due to your strict adherence to an unrecognized authority):

1. You don't get to share in what's supposed to be the happiest day of her life.
2. You don't get to take on the grandparent role with Isaac.
3. There will always be a rift between you and Teresa.
4. You will, by extension, alienate George and Kenya, as well as me and Tina.
5. You'll serve as an object lesson as to how zealous devotion to a religion can divide families.
6. You'll miss out on the reception and cake. (Incidentally, saying you can't go to the wedding, but you'll be happy to attend the reception? That's just low.)

Ultimately, what it boils down to is this: You're breaking your only daughter's heart out of some misguided sense of self-righteous indignation, and there's no saying how well that wound will heal.

- Never Lost a Game

Whatever Happened to Baby Jesus?

Remember Christmas?

I'm not talking about the little get-together you had with your family last year. I mean the fruition of a month's waiting, the giddiness of waking up on that rare morning that comes along only one time every decade-long year, and the unbearable joy of seeing that lit up tree with a veritable mountain or wrapped packages underneath.

The day has finally come. You tried to be good all year, certain that your deeds were enough to convince Santa to put you on the nice list. You wake up as soon as you're able, run downstairs, your pajamas still on, and see the splendid 12-foot tree lit up in all its glory. And the presents, oh the presents.

Dad packs his pipe and puts on some festive music, something by Mannheim Steamroller or possibly Mahalia Jackson. Mom puts the coffee on, and you scour through the gifts cloaked in paper and draped in foliage, looking for your name, hoping to find it on the biggest package of all. You can't wait. An eternity passes until Mom and Dad get situated, and finally, it's time for presents.

Your turn can't come fast enough, and as soon as your hands touch paper, you tear through it like a snared wolverine. As the Everest of gifts gradually decreases, you find yourself surrounded by all the awesome things you begged for all year. And socks. Your pool of gifts grows and grows. You barely know what to start with.

Finally, they're all open, and all that's left under the tree is a skirt and some stray needles. But that's nothing to fret about. It just means it's time to play with all your new toys. And you dive right in with the one big gift you'd been hoping, praying, and begging for. You spend all day happily playing, checking out what your siblings got, and ignoring the socks. It's the perfect day. Magical. You couldn't be happier.

Christmas night, after dinner, and you're all tuckered out. You don't want to go to bed; you want to keep playing. But all your new toys will be waiting for you tomorrow. Nevertheless, you take the day's favorite to bed, just in case you need it.

Years pass, and you start to notice the magic of the holiday dissipate. The tree is shorter than last year. The gifts aren't as plentiful. The exchanging of presents isn't as big a deal. You're not as excited anymore. You don't look forward to it. One day you notice that you just don't care. You don't feel like dragging yourself to your parents' house. But you do. You get there, exhange Merry Christmases. There's festive music. There's a tree covered in lights. There's food and coffee and Dad might smoke his pipe. You even half-heartedly rummage through to guess what people got you. But somehow, it all just seems so... empty.

You appreciate what people give you, and you hope they like what you give them. You eat the delicious food that's been set out. You spend time with people you love. But something's off. The magic is gone. The hope, the anticipation, the fulfillment, all gone. You go through vacant motions prescribed through years of tradition, but you just don't feel anything, aside, maybe, from the desire to just get away from your family and go home.

At what point did the best day of the year devolve into an annual nuisance?

I wish Christmas would return. Jack, on the other hand, says, "fuck it".

- Nihilistic Gnome Lover

Fuck James Bond up his smarmy limey ass.

James Bond is fucking retarded.

That's not to say the character itself is mentally challenged (though that would make for a pretty interesting movie). I mean the franchise and its eponymous character is irrepressibly silly, juvenile, and just plain dumb.

Now before you start going off on a well, yeah, except for Connery / Brosnan / Craig rant, I am, indeed, referring to all of them. Each incarnation of James Bond is just awful. It's not the actors' fault, mind you. Bond is just a terribly uninteresting character. He's little more than an empty suit with a gun, a dick, and a few nifty gadgets.

I'll grant you he's got some pretty neat gadgets (as well as a treasure trove of lame ones). But that's basically it.

As a character, though, Bond is severely lacking. He's not sympathetic. You only root for him because someone needs to save the world. I'd just as soon have Bill and/or Ted step up to the plate. He's not flawed in anyway. He's just there. There's no tragic history, no secret past, no compelling origin story. He's not driven by anything other than his personal duty to queen and country.

The movies invariably follow the same cookie-cutter formula, and any deviations from it are derided by the obnoxious fanboys (who, incidentally, are convinced that there hasn't been a really good Bond movie since Dr. No.)

The villains aren't intimidating, threatening, or even remotely fearsome. They're generally evil for evil's sake. The love interests with clever names are about as interchangeable as porn stars (Michelle Yeoh notwithstanding). They may as well just recruit from the adult film industry to save on money. Lord knows the acting is just as good.

James Bond is about as dramatically interesting as Superman. At least Superman has a moral code to speak of. Bond has no problem with murder, adultury, theft, or any number of activities that are severely frowned upon in civilized society. Think about it. He has no real concern for anyone but himself, and he just happened upon a career where he can sate his bloodlust to his heart's content, spending his downtime sticking his dick in anything without one. The man may as well be a psychopath. That would at least make him a little interesting.

- Nebulous Gardening Lifts

Is Jack my demon, or am I his?

It's hard to write this, because I'm having trouble articulating what I want to say. I type like a cutter bleeds, but I can't seem to apply the right pressure to my head.

I am unhappy.

Tired, sad, dissatisfied, bored, miserable, all of these are apt descriptions of my current state.

I'm a goal-oriented individual, and I believe it's important to have something to work toward. What it is doesn't necessarily matter, just as long as there's something to look forward to, be it earning a degree, getting into law school, going to Amsterdam, or even just finishing a project you're invested in.

I don't have that.

At the end of the day, all I have to look forward to is... the end of the day. My day-to-day goals consist of getting to the weekend with minimal trouble and keeping myself amused. Being in dire financial straits hinders both of those quite a bit. I used to be able to numb my mind and not care. Alas, sobriety is a harsh mistress.

My job consists of a handful of duties that I can usually take care of in maybe two hours tops. I'm not much more than a button monkey. The rest of it is trying to look busy for anyone who may be around.

I'm kind of tired out from Anonymous. I think I might need to take a break for a bit. Stay out of the loop, not get into arguments, etc. It's something that's important to me, but I don't want to end up hating it.

The flow is a perfectly acceptable thing to go with. But right now, I'm just adrift at sea with no idea which way to row. I can't step out, because I'll drown, but I hate just sitting here.

There are any number of projects to work on, but I just can't seem to make myself give a damn. I'm not out to save the world, set things right, or make a difference. I just want to invest myself in something I'm passionate about, and right now, I'm pretty blase about everything.

I'm not feeling creative, inquisitive, inspired, or even the least bit curious about anything. Everything falls into the spectrum between "annoying" and "dreadful".

There may be something on the horizon, but I just can't be bothered to care.

Is there where I throw in the towel?

-Nominally Let Go

My own personal demon

I have my own demon.

His name is Jack, and he lives in my skull.

Jack hates me almost as much as he hates himself. He fills me with stress, hatred, sadness, and rage. He grinds me down. He devours my will. He makes me weak.

Sometimes, when my life is going well, and everything's good, Jack will rear his ugly head. He'll remind me of past traumas. He'll tell me to do things I don't want to do. He makes me feel worthless. He encourages and amplifies my pain. He knows me more intimately than anyone else. He feeds off my guilt and my shame.

Jack likes to show up when it's most inconvenient. I can usually tell when he's coming, but not always. He takes advantage of my weaknesses. He manifests himself in the most innocuous of places - songs, smells, words, everything, or sometimes even, nothing.

I do my damnedest to keep Jack at bay. I've tried lots of things. I have my secrets, and I have my techniques, but Jack knows them all, and he can be a mite unpredictable. Sometimes I expect him to show up, but he doesn't. Other times, he comes out of nowhere and tries to kill me.

I wish Jack would go away, but I know he never will. I'm condemned to live with Jack for the rest of my life. I'd rather not, but what can I do? Jack's fate is irrevocably tied to mine.


I hate Jack.

- Non-Glare Lenses

Painted smiles

I've always tried to be an authentic person, to be myself on my own terms. I've never been entirely successful, though, and I've never been able to figure out why. What it ultimately comes down to is what my fundamental nature is and what I want it to be. All baggage aside, I can be boiled down to my must fundamental essence, namely matter in a particular place at a particular time. I realized relatively recently that I should become the person I want to be. Simple enough. Decide who I want to be and work toward attaining that goal.

But I don't know, really, what I want to be. In some ways I do, of course. I want to be a good person. I want to be a happy person. Beyond that, though, I can't really say.

What I am right now is a blank slate, a sheet of paper waiting for a pencil to be applied. But what to draw?

I want to personify a transient moment. I want to be a changing constant in a hectic universe. I want to be me, here, now at all times without dwelling in the past or worrying about the future. I want to be able to redefine myself at any given instant.

But I can't. Sure, in the existential, radically free sense, I can, but in reality, I can't. I have too many commitments I'm unwilling to sacrifice and waaay too many mental barriers in my way. So, I'm just a working stiff doing my 40 hours and living vicariously through Time Lords, Batmen, Jedi Knights, and 12 oz. Mice.

Joy is fleeting. We cling to it for dear life in hopes that it will provide the elusive key to eternal happiness.

But it won't.

It never will.

I'm currently in love with a song by Rilo Kiley called A Better Son/Daughter. It goes like this:

Sometimes in the morning I am petrified and can't move
Awake but cannot open my eyes
And the weight is crushing down on my lungs
I know I can't breathe
And hope someone will save me this time
And your mother's still calling you insane and high
Swearing it's different this time
And you tell her to give in to the demons that possess her
And that god never blessed her insides
Then you hang up the phone and feel badly for upsetting things
And crawl back into bed to dream of a time
When your heart was open wide and you love things just because
Like the sick and dying

And sometimes when you're on
You're really fucking on
And your friends they sing along
And they love you
But the lows are so extreme
That the good seems fucking cheap
And it teases you for weeks in its absence
But you'll fight and you'll make it through
You'll fake it if you have to
And you'll show up for work with a smile
And you'll be better
You'll be smarter
More grown up and a better daughter or son
And a real good friend
And you'll be awake
You'll be alert
You'll be positive though it hurts
And you'll laugh and embrace all of your friends
And you'll be a real good listener
You'll be honest
You'll be brave
You'll be handsome and you'll be beautiful
You'll be happy

Your ship may be coming in
You're weak but not giving in
To the cries and the wails of the valley below
Your ship may be coming in
You're weak but not giving in
And you'll fight it you'll go out fighting all of them

- Niggardly Gelatinous Lesbian

Axia

All knowledge is the result of either observation or logical inference. I exist in some capacity. For all practical purposes, the universe exists roughly as I perceive it. My senses corroborate one another's observations and pick of the slack when others falter. All knowledge is tentative.

Non-being cannot be. Myths don't have to be true for you to learn from them. Theology is silly. Faith is dangerous. Religion does more harm than good. Nothing should be exempt from rational inquiry, no matter how sacred or personal someone thinks it is. Your freedom to believe what you choose is not a license to force those beliefs on others. All knowledge is tentative.

Perfection is necessarily unattainable. Coincidences are rare but inevitable. Confessions of ignorance are necessary for learning, while appeals to the supernatural stifle it. Most beliefs depend on an individual's perspective. No one is infallible, unquestionable, or in any way perfect. Everyone gets one chance at life. This is it. The more you learn, the less you know. All knowledge is tentative.

It's not a goddamn competition. Everyone suffers. Everyone experiences insecurity, sadness, and existential angst. Everyone's different, but that doesn't make them special. Life is hard. There's always something worse to fight. There's always something better to strive for. That doesn't make your goals meaningless. Easiness is not simplicity. Belief is not opinion. Emptiness is not nothingness. All knowledge is tentative.

- Northeastern Leverage Guild

Queries, Questions, and Quandries

Why do we look to politicians for moral guidance?

When did actors start being revered instead of reviled?

What’s the point of serifs?

Why is the Joker a monkey?

What does God have to do with morality?

Why do people cling to false beliefs when the truth is liberating?

Why is that ugly pale shade of yellowish beige used for anything?

What’s wrong with Hollywood?

Isn’t strawmanning just another way of admitting defeat?

Why is the driver’s side always on the traffic side?

Where did people get the idea that there was never any sex or violence in entertainment "back in the day"?

Why do people insist on legislating morality?

What’s wrong with transparancy?

Why do people insist that Collateral was a good movie?

Doesn’t the fact that you’re fucking with your brain negate any knowledge gained through psychedelics?

What’s with the attitude that the quality of a film is directly related to the message it tries to relay?

When did being smart, inquisitive, and critical become a bad thing?

Since when is Oriental a racial slur?

Why do people get all offended when you dare utter the wrong set of syllables?

- Noodles Get Lips

An Open Letter to Hasbro

Dear Hasbro,

I've enjoyed your line of Star Wars action figures since its inception with Kenner in the late 1970s. Over the past 30 years, your action figures have evolved, growing more and more impressive with each line. The sculpting, deco, and articulation are always finding new ways to impress me.

That is why I was so taken aback after purchasing the Jedi vs. Sith Battle Pack. I had looked forward to this set for some time, and I'm sorry to say, I missed it when it was released under the ROTS line. Now, I'm certain you've fielded your share of questions regarding the fact that, despite its name, the Jedi vs. Sith set does not, in fact, include any Sith. That's fine. I've made peace with that. My gripe is far more substantial than mere semantics in nomenclature.

Let me put it bluntly.

This figure infuriates me. In fact, you have failed so spectacularly with this abortion of a plaything that I was unable to put my heartwrenching disappointment into words for a fortnight. You had a magnificent opportunity to do something really special with this one, but no. You didn't just drop the ball, here. You hurled the ball downward with all your might, with the hope, it seems, of putting yourself in orbit.

Let's think about this, ok? There are 5 figures, here. Grievous and Yoda are both repacks of older figures. While, Anakin, Asajj, and Obi-Wan were all new figures, there have been Asajj Ventresses on the market for a while, and the battle-damaged Anakin Skywalker was previously available in the Clone Wars Animated line. The point, here, is that Hasbro had, until this point, never released an Obi-Wan in clone armor before. There was plenty of demand for such a figure, and many of us were excited to see it in this Battle Pack.

That excitement was soon replaced with furious rage when I opened the box.

The first problem is the armor. Rather than the tried 'n' true snap-on method, you opted for the posts & holes technique. This was a bad idea. Why? Because the armor pieces don't stay in place! I had a hell of a time trying to keep all the armor pieces on at the same time. It took forever until I finally decided that those transparent rubber bands were the way to go.

Not only are the arm and leg pieces sorry, but the helmet is lopsided and just tight enough that it takes Obi-Wan's head with it when I try to remove the damn thing. The chest plate is attached to the plastic/vinyl robe/cape thingy, offering us something reminiscent of old Ben's bulk cloak from 1995.

Not only does the armor suck, the articulation is bad, too. First, we have a ball-hinged head that, as I mentioned, was too loose. Second, ball-jointed shoulders are probably not the way to go, when the figure comes with shitty armor that's supposed to cover them. The arms are an obvious cash-saver attempt with the swivel elbows. Seriously? You know, you didn't have to make the arms jointed like that. In fact, if I'm trying to pose my Obi-Wan in armor and his arms straight at his side, he looks fucking retarded!

That's not all, though. Thanks to the ridiculous action feature you insisted on using, this figure only has one poseable leg. Great. Now I can't hide him away in a spaceship somewhere, because he can't fucking sit down!

Speaking of action features, whose idea was it to include saber-swinging action on a figure with loose-fitting armor? I mean, come on! Even if you do get it all on, the moment you squeeze the legs together, half the armor falls off anyway.

And to top it all off, you gave him ball-hinged ankles. I cannot think of a single scenario in which this figure, with its one articulated leg, would need ball-hinged ankles. Why would you do this?

Now, I know what you're going to say. You're going to tell me it costs a lot to add articulation to these figures, plus the cost of the removable armor, and the other figures in the set make it necessary to cut some corners.

To that, I say bullshit. You had 3 very clear options with this figure: Super articulation, removable armor, and action feature. Well, all those ball-hinges are pricey. I understand that. So, why did you include them in the most cumbersome and inconsequential places on this figure? The armor would have worked if you'd placed joints in more appropriate places and used armor pieces that don't completely suck. As for the action feature, well, if it was that important to you, then ditch the goddamn removable armor! I know for a fact that it would've been possible to do a clonetrooper/Obi-Wan kit-bash. Seriously. I've done it. It worked out way better than this abomination of a toy.

I saw at ToyFair that you were going to release a newer version of this figure. I hope it's an improvement.

- North Green Land

A fun little scenario to brighten your day.

Suppose God (i.e. the universe-creating deity who has a personal stake in everyone's lives) is really real. Suppose further that this God had a Chosen People. These Chosen People have survived generations of enslavement and persecution, but thanks to the intervention of this God and his Chosen Mouthpiece, the people were able to vanquish their masters and escape.

Upon escaping, this god promises these Chosen People a home of their own, and he tells them where it is and how to get there. He also tells them the land would already be occupied, but they're entitled to it, so the people living there should just find someplace else or suffer the consequences.

So, finally, the Chosen People reach the promised land. They land their spaceships and start exterminating all the humans.

- Neon Green Lantern

See, here’s what happened: Religion and Morality

Some people got together long ago before there was writing and determined that some behaviors are immoral. Some may be detrimental to society as a whole, while others just seem unnatural, counterintuitive, or just really gross. Naturally, your people will accept these as immoral because you're the guy with the divine mandate.

To help illustrate the evil and wickedness of immoral behavior, you tell stories detailing the terrible consequences that will occur if someone angers the gods, be it through masturbation or fetal rape. There's always a divine punishment. For those who behave well, there's a divine reward.

Fortunately, your people are pretty smart. They know the stories are just entertaining myths used to illustrate a point.

Everything's cool for a few generations. Other myths have been created, some detailing the heroic feats of great men, others attempting to explain natural phenomena. With each telling, the myths evolve and take on a life of their own.

Then something terrible happens.

Some irresponsible mouth-breathing douchebag has his family gathered around the fire to once again regale them with the Legend of how Daniel the Brave defeated the Muggers. As he finishes the story, he says, "And the most amazing part of the story? It really happened!"

Really! It's a true story! Generation after generation, the story is told as fact. It still evolves, of course, but the perceived factual basis never goes away, because that's the best part.

Eventually, the written word comes about. By this point, Daniel the Brave is now Dave, and Muggers has become Buggers. The story is written accordingly, and suddenly you have the Legend of how Dave defeated the Buggers. The story is translated into other languages numerous times by numerous people, and thousands of years later, the story can be found anywhere on the planet.

Suppose, now, that you're living in modern times. You're familiar with previous translations, and you always thought something didn't add up. One day, after reading the latest translation of How Dave Defeated the Buggers, you decide to discuss it with some colleagues. This most recent translation got you thinking that the story might not be true, and that buggery may not be all that evil. You share your thoughts, and suddenly everyone explains that you read the wrong translation. There's only one right one. Your faith in Dave isn't strong enough. You're a heretic. And probably a bugger. You've lost your way, but if you pray to Dave, you may find it again.

Most importantly, you learn this:

"Of course buggery's evil. Just look at the buggers that Dave defeated."

But, you argue, the story clearly shows Dave defeating a group of men who tried to beat him up and rob him. There's no mention of buggery, except in the title and description of the men.

"Well, that's what buggers do! They're not to be trusted."

Have you ever met a bugger?

"Well, no, but..."

Then how do you know?

"It is written."

Ok, well, why is buggery immoral, then?

"The story says so."

The only reason you're opposed to buggery is because of the story?

"Without these stories, there wouldn't be any morality. People would be running rampant in the streets raping churches and burning women."

But what if the stories were just stories used to illustrated why something is wrong? What if something was lost in translation? What if....

"Well, that's just ridiculous."

- Nambla's Greatest Loss

Me, naked pt. 1

I've mentioned before that one major factor in changing my outlook on life was the EELS. I mark the fateful day when I bought Souljacker for $6.00 at the bookstore as a major milestone in my life. The album on its own isn't their best, nor is it particularly enlightening, (though it's still quite good). But it opened a door for me that shifted my balance. I was well on my way to a bachelor's in philosophy and struggling with my personal crisis of faith. (Don't worry. I'm not going to get all Jesusy on you.)

I was brought up a strict conservative Catholic. I didn't realize until much later how over the top it was, so let me put it into perspective for you:

My first Communion was from Pope John Paul II. No, I'm not joking.
I had to pray the Rosary daily.
I wasn't allowed to play with Masters of the Universe toys (because I guess Skeletor was too demonic).
I wasn't allowed to listen to rock music until I was about 9, and even then, not on Sundays (because that's the Lord's day.)

I was the middle child among 4 kids. Joe was the oldest, George was the baby, and Teresa was the girl. I always felt kind of lost in the mix.

So, here's a shy, awkward kid in a big über-Catholic family. I never really had the chance to find my voice before being drowned out (and that plagues me to this day).

I went to Catholic school, where I learned that pride is a sin. When you're 6 years old, shy, and awkward, there's a fine line between self-esteem and pride, and I completely missed it. As a result, I grew up thinking it was my Christian duty to see myself in a negative light.

It was already difficult enough to feel good about myself, but the knowledge that I would be condemned to eternal hellfire if I did compounded the guilt.

And you know how Catholics are about guilt.

As a result, I was never good at making friends, carrying a conversation, or acting social in any capacity. I was much more content to play with my G.I. Joe and Star Wars guys. This has had no impact on my adult life whatsoever.

(Funny side note: I mentioned earlier I wasn't allowed Masters of the Universe toys. Well, back when I was 7 or 8, I decided that when I grow up, and I don't have to obey my parents anymore, I was gonna buy my own MOTU toys and play the hell out of them. I forgot that inner monologue until maybe 5 years ago, after purchasing a Skeletor figure and started playing around with it. Life is funny like that.)

So, fast forward to about 2003. I take George to our first EELS concert. He hadn't really listened to them before (except for on the drive up to Chicago) and wasn't expecting much. I didn't know what to expect, to be honest, but they rocked my socks off. Toward the end, E (the singer/songwriter/Trent Reznor analogue) spoke to the audience, as dynamic front men tend to do. He said it's odd how oblivious we are to the fact that we deserve good things to happen to us, and we should do something nice for ourselves from time to time.

Then he closed with Somebody Loves You.

That always stuck with me. It's good for me to be happy, to feel good about myself. I realized that wallowing in self-pity gets me nowhere. I needed to either accept who I am or become who I wanted to be.

"Start to be what they want you to be, and you see yourself as they see you." - E

- Nipples, Glans, Labia

I've had a lot on my mind, lately...

...but I can't seem to articulate it.

I'm sort of on a self-improvement kick. Kinda.

I'm tired of the same mundane routine, but I can't seem to get out of it. I have art projects I need to finish, but I don't feel like it. I get about halfway done, then get bored. I never finish anything, it seems. I want to get the Zombie script written. I want to get those figures made. I want to finish the pony, the Balrog, the X-Wing, the Robin Hood tapes for Mom. I want to somehow get started on my noir Robin Hood. I want to get that tattoo I've been putting off. I just feel... stunted, I guess. Then there's my goddamn job, the shit that needs done around the house, the deck, etc.

Plus summer vacation is just around the corner, so my schedule's about to go wonky.

And where's the motivation supposed to come from? How am I going to be at work for 9 hours and still have the energy and desire to do all this? Sure there's the weekend, but I also need to relax.

I don't know what I'm trying to say, here. But is this it? Is this that great, wondrous thing called life? I don't ask for much. I just feel kind of left behind, pretty much all the time. I'm frequently overwhelmed by the mind-numbing idiocy that permeates nearly everything.

There's so much I want to get done, but I feel like I just don't have it in me to do any of it. I realize the only thing holding me back is me, and I have no one to blame but myself, but no matter how hard I try, I... just... can't. It's like an artificial barrier has been placed at the 50% mark on my scale potential-o-meter. My internal motivator has an automatic shutoff.

I'm too weak to find that inner strength. It's frustrating.

So, suck it up, get off your ass, and do it!

Wow, what an insight. I can't believe that never occurred to me before.

Yes, I realize I use sarcasm as a defense mechanism.

I also need to go shopping and get laundry. If I go tonight, and they have the new V-Wing, I'm totally getting it.

I also want to buy a copy of Year Zero. It's a fantastic album. I've been borrowing George's. Comalies by Lacuna Coil is also good. Who's Lacuna Coil? They're the band Evanescence is trying too hard to be.

- Nifty Green Lighter

I want to streamline the alphabet

For the sake of efficiency, I want to streamline the alphabet. This includes eliminating some letters, reassigning some, and reintroducing one.

A - A good, solid start, here. No complaints.
B - Same as above. It has a purpose and serves it well.
C - This letter frequently does double duty, serving both the S sound and the K sound. Since each of those letters do the same job just as well, C should change to the CH sound. It's common in other languages, and we don't have any other letters for CH, so C gets reassigned.
D, E, F, G, H, and I can all stay.
J - Redundant. One can get the same effect out of G. I could be persuaded to reconsider, provided the soft G is no longer used.
K, L, M, N, O, and P can stay.
Q - A waste of a letter. First of all, just look at it. Q. It's O with a tail. It's frequently confused with G. And it doesn't even make a unique sound. It's just the K sound, but circley. Not only that, Q is hardly ever used in the first place, and most of the time, it requires the addition of another letter, namely U. We can get the same effect with KU or KW.
R, S, T, U, and V are fine.
W - I'm on the fence on this one. On the one hand, one could get the same sound out of U or OO. For mor distinct W sounds, we can just employ a UU. On the other hand, judging by the look and etymology, W is a relatively recent addition to the alphabet and does have a kind of unique sound. If we keep the W, it should be reclassified as a vowel.
X - Where to begin. It's two distinct consonant sounds in one letter. First of all, we rarely use it. Secondly, we see KS all over the place. It's nothing new. I propose we reassign the X to the SH sound. It's not unheard of. In fact, it's frequently used in such a manner when translating Chinese symbols to our phonetic alphabet.
Y - Unnecessary. You can get the same effect with a simple I or IE.
Z - I think we can go without Z. The S makes a similar, and frequently identical, sound. Britons use S instead of Z all the time, with words like realise. Not only that, it would also eliminate the cultural disagreement as to whether Z is pronounced Zed or Zee.
Þ - No one uses this letter anymore, and it's a shame. Þ (or þ) is a perfectly good letter. It has a unique shape, and it's easy to write. For those not in the know, Þ is pronounced "Thorn" and makes a TH sound. I would place it right after the T.

So, in the end, here's my refined alphabet:

ABCDEFGHIKLMNOPRSTÞUVWX.
This brings us down to 23 letters. C and X have redefined sounds, and Þ is new.

I'd also get rid of PH. F works just as well.

- New Generation of Lettering

My Own Universe

I've been wanting to write something. I don't know what.

I'm quite fond of the universe I created for the zombie movie.

I've been thinking about rich, fictional universes lately.

Actually, let me back up quite a bit.

I watched The Phantom Menace the other night. Can you believe it's been almost 8 years? Anyway, while watching it, I got to thinking. It's no secret I'm a Star Wars fanboy, and while Iam more than willing to acknowledge all the flaws in the prequel trilogy (and there are plenty), I still love it, and I'll tell you why.

The whole story that the six-part saga encompasses really blows me away. I think it's brilliant. On the one hand, it's about the rise of a great, talented hero, his fall from grace, and his eventual redemption at the hands of his own son (whose story mirrors his own). On the other hand, you have the implosion of a galaxy's power structure, the rise of evil to power, and the ultimate defeat of it. It all just amazes me.

So, while the prequel trilogy was, by and large, poorly executed, in terms of writing, acting, and directing, I can see what Lucas is going for.

So, this got me thinking. I love the story, but it could've been told better. Another great sci-fi story is the one of the Cylons chasing what's left of the colonial fleet as they try to find earth. This originated shortly after Star Wars, but it was also poorly executed. When that story was reimagined in a 2003 miniseries (and subsequent TV series), it worked brilliantly. I got what they were going for both times, but this time, it really worked a lot better.

That inevitably leads to the obvious idea of reimagining the Star Wars saga. Think about it. You take all six episodes of Star Wars, strip away everything but the story, and start over from scratch. It'd be a hell of a project, but it could be done, and I bet it could be done quite well. The downside, though, is that it would entail redesigning the entire universe.

This is when it hits me: It's not just the story that appeals to me. The universe it takes place in is equally important. Imagine having to redesign Artoo Detoo or Darth Vader's suit. Imagine a completely different universe with completely different characters sharing the names of your childhood icons. It's weird. I'm not saying it wouldn't be cool, or it couldn't possibly trump the originals. That's not my point.

My point is that at an early age, I fell in love with a universe in which men in capes fight with laser swords, a world of queens and princesses, a reality in which larger than life heroes fight villains who revel in their villainy.

The hokeyness appeals to me in a way.

Now, I'm not gonna sit here and gush about how great a filmmaker George Lucas is. Frankly, he's a shitty writer and director. But he has a hell of an imagination, and that doesn't get enough credit.

Which brings me back to the beginning of this post.

I want a rich universe that's both romantic and convincing. I want that air of hokeyness with a real world feel. And I want it to be big enough to allow many different, unconnected stories.

- Not George Lucas

P. S. I know it's a repeat, but it fits.

This wasn't part of my rock'n'roll fantasy!

I'm in a weird place, mentally, and I can't really explain it.

Dan came over last night to work on the movie. I stayed home yesterday because of an upset tummy. I don't know what the deal was, but it cleared up by the evening. So, here I am.

At work.

Nothing much to do. Well, I can do those journals, but meh. This week seems to have lasted forever. It's only Wednesday. I feel like I'm stuck in a routine that's just leaving me mentally exhausted. I don't really know why. I haven't really had any moments of clarity in a while either. You know, those brief periods of enlightenment that last 2 seconds but seem like an eternity. I live for those.

I'm too distracted by life, though, to actually relax and think. Maybe I'll do that tonight. I don't know.

I prefer the role of the spectator, but I haven't been able to play it for a while.

Tomorrow's Magic. I haven't been in a long time.

I also want to get hold of Sara, but I keep getting her voice mail, and my bad karma once again rears its ugly head.

Fuckin' karma. It really annoys me sometimes.

But it'll all work out in the end, I suppose. That's what karma does.

I dunno. Where am I going with all this? Does it matter? Does anyone really care? I don't. But I just keep writing.

Maybe I'm in a rut. Maybe I'm just overly concerned about disappointing Tina throughout my everyday life.

Maybe I'm afraid, though of what, I don't know.

Or maybe I'm just bored. Maybe I need to get out. Maybe I should call Dan and see if he's free tonight. We're at least making some progress with this movie.

Fuffy's noos is back.

I still have the basement to finish, but that's more long-term.

Maybe I just need to clear my head. I haven't in far too long, and I really owe it to myself to.

So, how do I go about doing that?

I need to stop feeling responsible for all the annoying shit that happens in life, but my stupid jackass of a subconscious (see below) won't let me. It keeps me from moving forward, from improving my life, from feeling good about myself. (Not that I deserve to.) (Goddammit.)

I just want to be able to silence the constant barrage of thoughts going through my head every waking second. I figure if I can just get through them all and emerge on the other side, it'll work, but that's never the case. I can't get myself to stop worrying, to stop feeling guilty, and to stop beating myself up.

Maybe I just need to talk it out. Or write it out, as the case may be.

Or not. Who knows.

Maybe sometime sooner or later.

- Notorious Green Leopard

Me and my jackass subconscious

My battle with sobriety came to an end last night. There was much rejoicing. My inner dialogue is amusing and infuriating to me, though. Here's what happened:

I called Sara after work yesterday, and we arranged to meet at home and hang out a little. I'd hung out with her a bit before, and she was always very nice, if a bit quiet. So, she showed up, we chatted for a bit, then watched some TV. No big deal, right?

After a bit of TV, a sort of alarm went off in my head. I got the very distinct feeling that this particular moment was the opportune time for her to leave, and I knew that if I were her, I'd be getting up and taking off now.

As these thoughts are tumbling through my head, Sara gets up, thanks me for having her over, and vary graciously informs me that she must be on her way.

The following exchange occurs in my head:
Cool Me: "Well, that went well."
Jackass Me: "She's leaving."
Cool Me: "Yeah, but this is when I'd be leaving, too. Besides, I had an enjoyable time, and she seemed to, too. You're blowing whatever may be negative way out of proportion."
Jackass Me: "That's what I do."
Cool Me: "Tomorrow, I will recall this night as a successful venture in entertaining on my own, despite what you say."
Jackass Me: "That's what you think."
Cool Me: "You're going to beat yourself up all night, aren't you."
Jackass Me: "Yep."
Cool Me: "I hate you."

Guess what I spent the rest of the evening doing.

Looking back more objectively, though, I think it went well, especially considering my natural aversion to strangers and social situations.

I just need to stop taking that negative perspective so seriously. I hate that fucker.

- Negativity, Get Lost

The rape checklist

This was posted on SA recently. It ranges from blindingly obvious to blindingly retarded. I just knew I had to rebut.

1. You are a rapist if you get a girl drunk and have sex with her.
This is a bit iffy. If your intent is to take advantage of her, then yes, it's rape. If your intent is to have a few drinks and the two of you become amorous, it's not. The key is consent.

2. You are a rapist if you find a drunk girl and have sex with her.
I assume this refers to the passed-out girl on the sofa and the frat guy trying to get some. No problems here.

3. You are a rapist if you get yourself drunk and have sex with her. Your drunkeness (sic) is no excuse.
What if she is sober and consents?

4. If you are BOTH drunk you may still be a rapist.
"Let's get drunk and fool around."
"But that would be rape."

5. If she's alternating between puking her guts out and passing out in the bed then you're a rapist.
Only if you're having sex with her.

6. If she's sleeping and you have sex with her you're a rapist.
Pretty much, yeah.

7. If she's unconscious and you have sex with her then you're a rapist.
How is this different from # 6?

8. If she's taking sleeping pills and doesn’t wake up when you have sex with her then you’re a rapist.
How does this differ from #s 6 & 7?

9. If she is incapacitated in any way and unable to say 'Yes' then you're a rapist.
Duh.

10. If you drug her then you're a rapist.
What do you mean by drug? Roofies? Sure. Smoking a bowl, dropping some E, or snorting some E, then making with the crazy monkey love? No.

11. If you find a drugged girl and have sex with her then you're a rapist.
Same basic principle as # 10.

12. If you don't bother to ask her permission and she says neither 'Yes' or 'No' then you could be a rapist.
Here's a common scenario: You're in an amorous mood. The two of you kiss. Tongues start wrestling, buttons come undone, and within a few minutes, she's on her back, well, you get the idea. Rape or no?

13. You are a rapist if you 'nag' her for sex. Because you manage to ply an eventual 'yes' from a weary victim doesn't mean it's not rape. You are a rapist.
Previous lines were blurred a bit, but this one's ridiculous. Like I said, the key is consent. Some women like to play hard to get. Sometimes, after nagging, and she submits, she'll even thank you for being persistent. Is the guy suddenly a rapist? Of course not. If she relents and feels bad about it afterwards, it's as much her fault as his. No one forced her to stop saying no.

14. You are a rapist if you try to circumvent her "No" by talking her into it. She's not playing hard to get, and, even if she IS it's not YOUR responsibility to 'get' her. You're still a rapist.
So, the girl who gets off on playing hard to get have to go unsatisfied because suddenly her significant other is afraid of being labeled a rapist because of their traditional sex play? I don't think so.

15. You are a rapist if you manipulate her into sex when she doesn't otherwise want it. If you say, "If you loved me you’d do X" then you're a rapist. If you say, "All the other kids are doing it!" then you're a rapist.
It's her own damn fault if she buys into it. She always has the right not to consent.

16. If you threaten her, or act in a way that SHE thinks you're threatening her then you're a rapist. If you puff up and get loud and frustrated while trying to 'talk' her into sex then you're a rapist.
Threaten her? Sure. Act in a way that she considers threatening, even if you don't? I dunno. I mean, if a reasonable person can see it as threatening, yeah. If she has some weird quirk where she feels threatened every time a guy takes off his shirt, then no. She can always change her mind. If she doesn't and goes ahead with it, it's not rape.

17. You are a rapist if you don't immediately get your hands off of her when she says 'no'. You are a rapist if you take your hands off of her and then put them back ON her after 10 minutes and she eventually 'gives in' to this tactic.
Safeword scenarios aside, I agree with the first part. The second part, again, if she submits willingly, it isn't rape.

18. You are a rapist if you won't let her sleep peacefully without waking her every 15 minutes asking her for sex. Sleep depravation (sic) is a form of torture and YOU are a rapist.
Sleep deprivation is torture. Sleep interruption is not. I get interrupted in my sleep all the time. Does that mean my bladder, alarm clock, or beloved cat is torturing me? Of course not.

19. If you're necking with her and you're naked and you've already gone down on her and she says 'No' to sex with you and you have sex with her anyway then you're a rapist.
Well, yeah.

20. If you're engaged in intercourse and she says 'No' at ANY point and you don't immediately stop then you're a rapist.
Unless there's a safeword in effect, then yeah.

21. If she said "Yes" to sex with a condom and that condom breaks and you proceed anyway then you're a rapist.
That all depends. What if you don't notice the condom breaking? What if it does break, and you agree to continue anyway? (Not a good idea, I know, but it happens.) Is it still rape?

22. If she picked you up at a bar looking for sex and then decides that she doesn't WANT sex and you continue then you're a rapist.
Yeah.

23. If she changes her mind at ANY point for ANY reason and you don't immediately back off or you try to talk her into it and get sex anyway then you're a rapist.
First part, yes. You should back off. However, if she willingly agrees to continue, even after a bit of verbal coercion, it isn't rape.

24. If you don't hit her and she says 'No' you're still a rapist.
What.

25. If you don't have a knife or a gun or a garrote and she says 'No' then you're still a rapist.
Oh, so if you have forced sex, even without using weapons, it's rape? Well, yeah.

26. If you're a friend of hers you can still be a rapist.
Duh. I can't imagine that friendship lasting, though.

27. If you had sex with her the night before but she doesn't want morning sex and you pressure her for it anyway then you're a rapist.
Globviously.

28. If you're her husband you can still be a rapist.
Guh.

29. If it's your wedding night and she doesn't WANT to have sex with you and you force or coerce her anyway then you're a rapist.
True.

30. If she's had sex with you hundreds of times before but doesn't want to on the 101st time then you're a rapist.
Pretty much.

31. If you penetrate her anally, orally or digitally against her will then YOU my friend, are ALSO a rapist.
Orally, yes. Anally, yes. Digitally? That's called molestation, not rape. But that's just splitting hairs.

32. Women do not owe you sex.
True.

33. Buying her dinner does not entitle you to sex.
Also true.

34. Paying her mortgage does not entitle you to sex.
Also also true, but it does mean you're whipped. Or her cosigner.

35. Buying her clothing does not entitle you to sex.
Yep.

36. Buying her lingerie does not entitle you to sex. It also doesn't mean that she has any obligation to wear that lingerie around you.
Uh-huh.

37. Spending any amount of money on her does not, ever, entitle you to sex.
Right.

38. Seeing her legs or cleavage does not entitle you to sex.
Right.

39. If she 'turns you on' you're not entitled to sex.
Yeah.

40. If she has fucked every man in a 10 square mile radius and she doesn't want to fuck you and you have sex with her anyway, then you're a rapist.
It also means you raped your sister. Ew.

41. Her clothing is not a reason for you to rape her. Her LACK of clothing is no reason to rape her. If she's wearing a thong and pasties you STILL have no right to rape her.
Right.

42. If she's a prostitute and she says "No" then you're a rapist.
No, it means you're a shoplifter.

43. If she's a stripper and she says "No" then you're a rapist. Likewise, if she's a stripper and she's been rubbing against your dick all night long and you follow her to her car and have sex with her against her will then you are ALSO a rapist.
Uh-huh.

44. If you watch a woman being raped without calling the authorities then you're as bad as a rapist and you may also be a rapist yourself.
You're a bit of a dick, but you're not as bad as the rapist.

45. If you don't fight rape then you accept rape.
What do you mean by "fight rape"? Staving off your attacker? Standing in the street shouting at cars? Taking an active stance? I'm not a fan of rape, but it doesn't mean I'll take an active stance against it any more than I will against the thousands of other atrocities that happen every day. Gotta earn a living and enjoy it, y'know? And if that means less time shouting at cars, distributing pamphlets, and writing up retarded checklists, so be it.

46. If you don't believe a woman when she says she was raped then you're encouraging rape.
"I was raped."
"Really?"
"No, but you encourage it."
Seriously. Rape is a terrible thing, but how many women out there scream rape when they regret sleeping with a guy, broke up with a guy, or just plain don't like some dude for whatever reason? Questioning rape charges is, unfortunately, necessary.

47. If you choose to remain friends with a man who raped a woman you are encouraging rape.
"What were you in for?"
"Date rape."
"Whoa."
"Yeah, I felt bad about it and the judge went easy on me. Still, I'd never do it again."

48. If you confess to the authorities that you raped a woman it does not exonerate you. You are not suddenly a model of good behavior.
True.

49. If you ‘only’ raped one woman, you’re STILL a rapist.
"You raped someone?"
"Yeah, but just a small one. It doesn't count."

50. You cannot tell who is a rapist by the way they look. Rapists are your friends, your brothers, your fathers and you won't know it.
With your gloriously encompassing definition, that's true.

51. Do not get frustrated with a woman if she doesn't trust you. SHE already knows that rapists don't wear signs on their foreheads. Something you think is innocuous SHE may find terrifying.
And if she chooses to sleep with you anyway, you're a rapist, too!

- Non-German Ladies