Looks like I'm going to the desert in January for four days, which should be fun. When I leave the city in the colder months, I intend for it to be warm and nice where i go. This, of course, never happens. It will be cold as hell in Vegas, and the most beautiful weather here. It might be that perfect snowy weather, where the sound is dampened to silence and you're in your own white paradise, or it might be sunny and warm t-shirt weather. Either way, feel free to buy me a beer when I get back for making the weather so nice.
Double Flee A
Friday
Springtime for hitler? Here comes the real master race.
I just lost a few hundred words in a technofoible. It will have to suffice to say that I was going on about a dream I had today. You probably would have found it difficult to bear the degree of solipsism and introspeculation it contained. Be happy that I am not happy to have lost this, for if I learn not to post that shite we'll all be better off.
Now where were we... ah yes. I was in military school again, etc.
Now where were we... ah yes. I was in military school again, etc.
Thursday
Ive got to change this around a little, otherwise I'll hate my blog. I'm moving all the places I visit to the links bar, and you can just look there for wacky news stories and pictures of boobs. The occasional one will doubtles still appear, but I'm not liking the thought of repeating everything I see on the other sites.
Wednesday
Taken from the lounge at jimgoad.com's 'most idiotic celebrities of out time'---
"Musician -- John Lennon
A self-obssessed, calculating, anorexic family-abandoner who slagged his friends, chased whatever the current zeitgeist was, and reportedly made everyone around him miserable. But, like Lucifer, he managed to pull off one of the greatest tricks in the history of rock 'n' roll -- convincing everyone that Paul McCartney was the asshole, and that he was just a humble, peace-loving, fame-and-money-shunning second-coming of Christ that the world just didn't understand. Keep in mind, his first recorded Beatles song was "Please Please Me", which was named for his habit of demanding that groupies fellate him before he went onstage.
I have to give the guy credit for making the masses, especially (again!) New York's clueless cultural elite, in the late 70's, swallow his ten-years-too-late hippie New Age bullshit ("Imagine") as if it were this great new direction in rock. And how about when he sold himself as the GREATEST FATHER IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD, when Julian, his first son, very much alive and aware, had to swallow decades of neglect and even scorn? Although he did write that heartfelt song "Hey Jude" for Julian when Julian was so sad about John's divorce from...oh, wait, Paul wrote that one. Sorry.
But wasn't it cool how John Lennon wrote that bad-ass, edgy "How Do You Sleep At Night?" song about Paul -- an unlistenable, plodding number that no one's ever played twice? And what did that asshole Paul respond with? Oh yeah, "Silly Love Songs", a self-mocking, good-humored pop tune you can hum.
John Lennon -- woman hater, shitty father, trend follower, bulimic, sour-natured heroin addict and millionaire. Imagine!"
"Musician -- John Lennon
A self-obssessed, calculating, anorexic family-abandoner who slagged his friends, chased whatever the current zeitgeist was, and reportedly made everyone around him miserable. But, like Lucifer, he managed to pull off one of the greatest tricks in the history of rock 'n' roll -- convincing everyone that Paul McCartney was the asshole, and that he was just a humble, peace-loving, fame-and-money-shunning second-coming of Christ that the world just didn't understand. Keep in mind, his first recorded Beatles song was "Please Please Me", which was named for his habit of demanding that groupies fellate him before he went onstage.
I have to give the guy credit for making the masses, especially (again!) New York's clueless cultural elite, in the late 70's, swallow his ten-years-too-late hippie New Age bullshit ("Imagine") as if it were this great new direction in rock. And how about when he sold himself as the GREATEST FATHER IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD, when Julian, his first son, very much alive and aware, had to swallow decades of neglect and even scorn? Although he did write that heartfelt song "Hey Jude" for Julian when Julian was so sad about John's divorce from...oh, wait, Paul wrote that one. Sorry.
But wasn't it cool how John Lennon wrote that bad-ass, edgy "How Do You Sleep At Night?" song about Paul -- an unlistenable, plodding number that no one's ever played twice? And what did that asshole Paul respond with? Oh yeah, "Silly Love Songs", a self-mocking, good-humored pop tune you can hum.
John Lennon -- woman hater, shitty father, trend follower, bulimic, sour-natured heroin addict and millionaire. Imagine!"
Minimal porn, more proof there's no such thing as pornography
good 404 page. Maybe the internet is trying to tell me something.
The Shower Project This isn't what you think it is. Which is too bad, 'cause GO, man!
Erwin Olaf Personal Portfolio check out "royal blood"
Sideways Bike still no cure for cancer
Lady of the Carrots - created a waffle bra.
Virginia Tech PowerMac G5 Cluster Photos I am a dork, but this is cool.
UGO.com, - Hero Machine design a superhero. or go outside, you damn invalid.
M.I.L.K.E.D. Not Safe for work, but way cool --sex acts ensue--
Tuesday
Monday
Isaac PHP Browser: download for free! I don't know what this is but I intend to find out.
104 random pictures- random images from Alta Vista Here's a slice of other people's sad lives, interests, whatever you want to call their manifestations of imagination.
Look up the history of the expression "OK" some time. I don't have the inclination to tell you about it at the moment.
I spent some time this evening with an aquaintance who recently lost a friend to an incredibly painful and unpredictable car accident, so I want to make it silly clear that I love all of you for being my environment and for making my proliferation a happy one. Now that that's out of the way I hope I can begin again to keep it gangsta real.
I spent some time this evening with an aquaintance who recently lost a friend to an incredibly painful and unpredictable car accident, so I want to make it silly clear that I love all of you for being my environment and for making my proliferation a happy one. Now that that's out of the way I hope I can begin again to keep it gangsta real.
Sunday
What kind of guy am I, Boob guy or Butt guy? To what component of a chicky-poo am I more naturally inclined? Let's look that over in some detail, starting at the bottom and working our way up.
Ok, there's definitely something to be said for that.
Now as for the balloon smugglers, where to start -- the promise of naked breasts is enough to draw interest, even when they won't come out for sure.
It's like men love to be tortured or something. Perhaps people find being tortured by their unfulfilled sexual energy validating. It just pisses Dale Shipley off.
Cleave is the only word in the English language that has two meanings that are the exact opposite of each other. Maybe "cleavage" is meant to mean a togetherness, maybe or a separation, or maybe it's called "cleavage"
because it's paradoxical. Maybe that's what I'm wondering about whenever I see it and look at it meaningfully yet without comprehension. Then again, maybe not.
I've heard that lion keepers in circuses use a chair to confuse the lions, since the lions can only focus on one thing at a time. The four points of interest that are the legs of a chair confuse and bore the lion, so it doesn't go after the guy with the whip. Boob guy or butt guy, the cleavage is the same; mysterious and pleasant to behold, so I think I can say that aesthetically, I'm just in it for the cleavage.
Expect more of this type of introspection, as I have been endowed with a great deal of energy on the subject of seminude women.
Vida . If a picture says a thousand words, then these pictures say some at least a few hundred of those in a half-heard language sent to us in our dreams by the angels of merciful god in heaven above.
Ok, there's definitely something to be said for that.
Now as for the balloon smugglers, where to start -- the promise of naked breasts is enough to draw interest, even when they won't come out for sure.
It's like men love to be tortured or something. Perhaps people find being tortured by their unfulfilled sexual energy validating. It just pisses Dale Shipley off.
Cleave is the only word in the English language that has two meanings that are the exact opposite of each other. Maybe "cleavage" is meant to mean a togetherness, maybe or a separation, or maybe it's called "cleavage"
because it's paradoxical. Maybe that's what I'm wondering about whenever I see it and look at it meaningfully yet without comprehension. Then again, maybe not.
I've heard that lion keepers in circuses use a chair to confuse the lions, since the lions can only focus on one thing at a time. The four points of interest that are the legs of a chair confuse and bore the lion, so it doesn't go after the guy with the whip. Boob guy or butt guy, the cleavage is the same; mysterious and pleasant to behold, so I think I can say that aesthetically, I'm just in it for the cleavage.
Expect more of this type of introspection, as I have been endowed with a great deal of energy on the subject of seminude women.
Vida . If a picture says a thousand words, then these pictures say some at least a few hundred of those in a half-heard language sent to us in our dreams by the angels of merciful god in heaven above.
So I'm reading Out of Control by Kevin Kelly, the editor of Wired magazine, and it's very interesting. I didn't want this blog to be about "Hey, it's ME, and here's what I am doing, and ME ME ME", and I'm not all that afraid it's what's happening, but just to be safe, you know, I bring that fear to light. [And you know what? That old comparison about fear being the shadow of a cricket dancing in front of a candle is right! The fear is gone! Yay!]
Public service announcement: Interpol is teh 4w35om3.
Anyway, to get back to ME, I'm reading this book and it's touching on lots and lots of subjects right now, making correlations between different systems and their similarities, one of them being the brain. The brain is a system with no central control. It's just a network of subsystems that govern things like breathing, sensory information, motor control, etc. It can fail smartly, meaning if a part of it fails, other parts can reroute and damage to the whole is minimal. This system exhibits a nonlinear causality field, which is typical of "emergent behavior" systems, like an ecosystem or an economy. Hence, creativity is possible. The brain is huge in terms of connectivity and it doesn't sequentially execute commands the way a computer does. I think what Kevin Kelly's going to be getting at in a chapter or two is that in order to learn God's thoughts we're going to have to turn a computer loose to learn on its own in the real world. So it's a great book.
Public service announcement: Interpol is teh 4w35om3.
Anyway, to get back to ME, I'm reading this book and it's touching on lots and lots of subjects right now, making correlations between different systems and their similarities, one of them being the brain. The brain is a system with no central control. It's just a network of subsystems that govern things like breathing, sensory information, motor control, etc. It can fail smartly, meaning if a part of it fails, other parts can reroute and damage to the whole is minimal. This system exhibits a nonlinear causality field, which is typical of "emergent behavior" systems, like an ecosystem or an economy. Hence, creativity is possible. The brain is huge in terms of connectivity and it doesn't sequentially execute commands the way a computer does. I think what Kevin Kelly's going to be getting at in a chapter or two is that in order to learn God's thoughts we're going to have to turn a computer loose to learn on its own in the real world. So it's a great book.
Saturday
I was in Gatlinburg as a teenager, and there was a magic convention in town, so I went to check it out. I stole a card, a playing card, from a vendor. It was a prop for a magic trick. The playing card had a woman with big breasts on the front. The woman was holding another card that was the five of diamonds, but that's for use in some magic trick. I figured that if I could steal a card from a magic trick vendor who was very familiar with palming things to make them appear to be gone, then that would make me enough of a magician to suit me for the rest of my life. Guy, sorry I stole your card.
The internet has found its abstract impressionism. Not safe for work - lego sex.
A rugby goal-kicking game
I forgot about insaniquarium. Click on the play now button on the left of the page. Very addictive game.
Mass psychosis, or hysteria, or what?
Find out if you're into jailbait or not.
Is it good or bad, I have often wondered, and now there is an answer for everything. The gematriculator.
So you take a moblogged photo, upload it to your MobileType blog, a bit of script finds the GPS Lat/Long/Alt co-ords in it and then links it to a mapping system, so you can see where the photo was taken. Mmkay?
Polysyllabic insult generator.
Corporate fonts. Don't tell michael moore please, because I hate his self-satisfied laugh. Sort of a whinny, like.
A rugby goal-kicking game
I forgot about insaniquarium. Click on the play now button on the left of the page. Very addictive game.
Mass psychosis, or hysteria, or what?
Find out if you're into jailbait or not.
Is it good or bad, I have often wondered, and now there is an answer for everything. The gematriculator.
So you take a moblogged photo, upload it to your MobileType blog, a bit of script finds the GPS Lat/Long/Alt co-ords in it and then links it to a mapping system, so you can see where the photo was taken. Mmkay?
Polysyllabic insult generator.
Corporate fonts. Don't tell michael moore please, because I hate his self-satisfied laugh. Sort of a whinny, like.
I could hardly be more addicted to sissyfight. If you want to play, I'm Bekky and I'll kick your ass all over the playground.
Somebody has written something on the wall in the bathroom stall. What it says is, and please stop now if you're easily offended, is "Doesn't anybody want dog cum anymore?" I can't say for sure whether this type of bathroom writing is intended to offend people, though it probably is. What I feel ninety-nine per cent sure of is that it was not meant to be as funny as it is. Images outside context are abstractions, surfaces cobbled together to impart a certain flavor.
Soap. Calendar. Grind. Fungible. Rain. Caterwaul. Meathook. Treehouse. Grumpy.
What poor, dumb bastard thought it would be worthwhile to vandalize a stall for the sake of that message? We can be sure we see him every day, around here somewhere.
The messages in the bathroom are "bathrom messages", written by people who may otherwise feel unable to express themselves adequately. In another bathroom down a hall, I have to assume that the person(s) responsible for carving and scratching their gems into the stall's interior painted metal have serious homosexual repression issues. Going all the way to drawing pictures of one guy fucking another guy in the ass takes a little more energy on the subject than average. And why in the bathroom? The associations people make to the bathroom are evident in the messages, drawings, etc., and that's all that's evident to me. Look where you are sometime, and look what people write there. Look how they decorated. The painting doesn't make the room, the room was there first. It was obvious, but the illustrators of the toilet stall associate toilets with gay sex, slangy rhyming couplets starring four letter words, and more gay sex. Oh, while we're at it, just try to look at a word and not read it. You can't.
Somebody has written something on the wall in the bathroom stall. What it says is, and please stop now if you're easily offended, is "Doesn't anybody want dog cum anymore?" I can't say for sure whether this type of bathroom writing is intended to offend people, though it probably is. What I feel ninety-nine per cent sure of is that it was not meant to be as funny as it is. Images outside context are abstractions, surfaces cobbled together to impart a certain flavor.
Soap. Calendar. Grind. Fungible. Rain. Caterwaul. Meathook. Treehouse. Grumpy.
What poor, dumb bastard thought it would be worthwhile to vandalize a stall for the sake of that message? We can be sure we see him every day, around here somewhere.
The messages in the bathroom are "bathrom messages", written by people who may otherwise feel unable to express themselves adequately. In another bathroom down a hall, I have to assume that the person(s) responsible for carving and scratching their gems into the stall's interior painted metal have serious homosexual repression issues. Going all the way to drawing pictures of one guy fucking another guy in the ass takes a little more energy on the subject than average. And why in the bathroom? The associations people make to the bathroom are evident in the messages, drawings, etc., and that's all that's evident to me. Look where you are sometime, and look what people write there. Look how they decorated. The painting doesn't make the room, the room was there first. It was obvious, but the illustrators of the toilet stall associate toilets with gay sex, slangy rhyming couplets starring four letter words, and more gay sex. Oh, while we're at it, just try to look at a word and not read it. You can't.
I have a new fixation, I guess, that I'm discovering secondhand, which is sadistic games. I keep finding notes that I wrote when I was drunk which detail them. An example:
"It's a game. Two people bet how many sheets of toilet paper they can burn in their hands and then they compete."
Another one had to do with two people waiting for one another to die. Nobody leaves the room until one of them dies of dehydration. Where does this come from? I do not know.
What would Jesus do? Well, he'd wear a little purple bracelet, of course! Isn't that what you insinuate when you wear the damn thing?
Would Jesus hang out with these guys?
"It's a game. Two people bet how many sheets of toilet paper they can burn in their hands and then they compete."
Another one had to do with two people waiting for one another to die. Nobody leaves the room until one of them dies of dehydration. Where does this come from? I do not know.
What would Jesus do? Well, he'd wear a little purple bracelet, of course! Isn't that what you insinuate when you wear the damn thing?
Would Jesus hang out with these guys?
Thursday
This game is SO. COOL. It's like rock scissors paper but much, much better.. I give you SISSYFIGHT
Amazing! A geocities page that's worth a shit!!!
"You must work for UPS cause I caught you checking out my package"...
I think that the people I know, as I know them, could have their personalities pretty well summed up in words that they said to me. Here are some, from people that I, Dale Shipley, know. This may not make a lot of sense, but I'm banking on your imagination here, In a little segment I'd like to entitle:"
In their own words
Randy, who lives in Taipei, said about painting, "Paint with the paint."
Chet, who lives all over the country, said "You gonna eat that?"
Chris, who lives in Minneapolis, said "I was being hyperbolic."
George from Chicago said that his girlfriends had all said at one point or another "When you gonna stop selling that dope and get a job?" (My girlfriends have all said "I'm not fucking stupid, Dale!")
The late Harold Kahm said "No matter how upset others get, I remain Kahm."
My father said to me when I was nine "Dale, the worst thing you can ever do is to kill your father."
I think that the people I know, as I know them, could have their personalities pretty well summed up in words that they said to me. Here are some, from people that I, Dale Shipley, know. This may not make a lot of sense, but I'm banking on your imagination here, In a little segment I'd like to entitle:"
In their own words
Randy, who lives in Taipei, said about painting, "Paint with the paint."
Chet, who lives all over the country, said "You gonna eat that?"
Chris, who lives in Minneapolis, said "I was being hyperbolic."
George from Chicago said that his girlfriends had all said at one point or another "When you gonna stop selling that dope and get a job?" (My girlfriends have all said "I'm not fucking stupid, Dale!")
The late Harold Kahm said "No matter how upset others get, I remain Kahm."
My father said to me when I was nine "Dale, the worst thing you can ever do is to kill your father."
Emergent behavior? Or just chicks trying to play sports?
Screw Wal-Mart.
Have fun with this craziness
Bush is Hitler
Screw Wal-Mart.
Have fun with this craziness
Bush is Hitler
Wednesday
An odd conspiracy theory involving a boeing and a pentagon.
My god, the dorkiness it must take to make this site.
My god, the dorkiness it must take to make this site.
Commujism, the people's porn site, is actually safe for work and quite funny
This is annoying and retarded. Jock rock plays and the window shakes around. Why did I put it here?
"Whenever people talk me into going out to clubs, I always refuse to dance saying that I don't know how or that I don't like dancing. But when I'm alone in my room, I'm a total dancing maniac."
"i love a girl on the floor below me. although she doesnt know, i sometimes go and sit in her chair when shes not there and pretend that i am her typing me sexy emails. i even wanted to change my birthplace to mexico and ride horses"
Grouphug.
"i love a girl on the floor below me. although she doesnt know, i sometimes go and sit in her chair when shes not there and pretend that i am her typing me sexy emails. i even wanted to change my birthplace to mexico and ride horses"
Grouphug.
Tuesday
The Etherkiller They will destroy your hardware. You will cry.
Pasta plate invented for idiots who have no business feeding themselves. Dishwashers everywhere fail to shit selves.
Very important free speech exercise for our nationalistic times... it's Tom Tomorrow, with This Modern World, also check back weekly, seriously
and the archived spots rock like Ozzy and Sugar hill
and the archived spots rock like Ozzy and Sugar hill
So is this annoying to look at or what? /time for bed
props to my bro, with the truck drivin' love
Just so you understand, Jesusism (as I may or may not continue to call it) prevails thoughout the place that I am from, which maketh this pretty funny. The rest of the choices are here.
Just so you understand, Jesusism (as I may or may not continue to call it) prevails thoughout the place that I am from, which maketh this pretty funny. The rest of the choices are here.
Monday
Yahoo! Top Stories - Newly Liberated Gals Wearing Bosom Burquas This is how we defeat fundamental Islam. Go get em, girls.
Last night I sent an email to the guy at CAP and bitched about his ministry's aim. Now, the CAP strikes back. ("SP:BLU" is South Park, bigger longer and uncut)
On 10/19/03 10:19 PM, the CAP ministry wrote:
>
> Are you so lobotomized
Are you so manipulated by such "entertainment" as SP:BLU that you have no
respect? That much is at least obvious in this diatribe of yours.
> that you couldn't put it together that the movie
> South Park, for all its lack of substance, can only be wildly successful
> because people like you devote so much energy to telling people not watch
> it?
It's success has nothing to do with people like me who tell the truth about
such "entertainment" and everything to do with people like you who hunger
for that kind of filth.
> You do more to perpetuate "the problem" by holding it under a microscope
> than you would by ignoring it.
At least now you know it is a sin. What you do with that knowledge is up to
how mature you are.
> The unreligious expect you to react and you
> do.
I am happy to meet their expectations.
> I understand this country was settled by witch-hunting puritans,
No, it wasn't. A fractional minority of the settlers were evil is just like
a fractional minority of our population today just like a factional minority
of all the world's populations are evil, which you seem to fit into by your
lust for God-slapping tripe such as SP:BLU.
> but
> over the last however many hundreds of years, you'd think we'd come to see
> that the moral bar was set artificially, impossibly high.
By whose standards? Your comment shows precisely the point I am making:
that we have become so drugged by the narcotic effect of immoral extremes
that what once was morally unacceptable has become morally invisible.
> Specifically, I'd
> like to say that sex is good.
It is. But it is reserved for the heterosexual married couple. The moral
bar was not set too high, your morals cannot reach it is why it seems too
high. That is not the fault of the One who set the bar, it is your fault.
Get rid of all that excess "self" weight and you'll have a better chance at
reaching the bar.
> That's how new people are made.
Rape can make babies. Does that make rape good?
> Because people
> like you hide it from and condemn it to young people,
God did that. Not me. Take your argument for illicit sex to Him. He will
give you a much better Answer than I ever could.
> they come to see it as
> being an unnaturally large part of life, something worth being both obsessed
> with and ashamed of, and that is your worst mistake in your doomed crusade
> to cleanse the world.
And you will believe everything you read and hear?
That you make smooth noises someone has planted in you in favor of immoral
sex does not change the immorality of unwed sex.
> Just stop now and find some real peace,
I have. I truly have. Now it is your turn to stop and find peace. Because
from an open minded, objective viewpoint, what you have is certainly not
peace. You snivel and whimper well just like the toddler that decides
whatever s/he can see is his/hers; that whatever s/he can get his/her hands
on is his/hers who gets mad when s/he is denied that which s/he wants.
Reality is that just because you want something and think you should have it
if you want it does not make it yours.
> and let
> somebody else warn people about information that you don't give them credit
> for being able to process.
*You* haven't been able to "process" the "information" about SP:BLU yet: to
put into proper perspective that which was presented in it. Now you are
sounding like the drug dealer telling me to go ahead and take that first
hit. It won't hurt me! Go ahead! Try it! I'll be glad I did!
> If your religion is so great why do you have to
> protect its followers from information?
Because of people like you that try to tell everyone such "information" as
in SP:BLU is acceptable, moral, ethical, natural, expected, desirable,
.......
> Finally, you religious guys drive me
> nuts,
Then why are you visiting a Christian website? I suspect I already know the
answer to that.
> 1) because of your weird desire to be avatars of morality and
Of His morality, not yours, to be sure. And that you think it is weird does
not make it so.
> 2)
> because you pick on children,
And your unfair and totally one-sided claim that we are picking on children
is evidence of your mentality.
> the only people likely not to question your
> obsolete dogmatic hokum.
That you think God's standards are obsolete does not make them go away.
Whether you believe it or not.
> Food for thought, for free, from me to you: George
> Bernard Shaw once said "the vilest abortionist is he who attempts to mould a
> child's character."
Just like the devil would want it put. Think about that. It's free. It is
related to God Himself warning parents to not leave children to their own.
>
> Dale Shipley
> Minneapolis, MN
>
I suspect, Dale, that when you finally do get out into the real adult real
word your perspective will change. But you obviously have not been there
yet, probably by no fault of your own. But you will get there one day Be
patient. Then maybe you'll be able to reach the level of awareness I have:
one that brings tears to your eyes for what sinematic puke like SP:BLU does
to children like you, of which you are the perfect example: to defend that
which God condemns.
I am so incensed by hearing of stories like yours: of kids (which includes
at-home teens) being so manipulated by the very evils they defend that they
cannot see past the big screen; that unless your next message is more mature
and open minded about what is happening to you in the name of entertainment
such as SP:BLU you will be blocked from our inbox.
The ball is in your court.
In Service to His Little Ones through their Parents and Grandparents in His
Name by His Word
-------
Tom Carder
CAP Ministry
www.capalert.com
cap@capalert.com
A 501(c)(3) Nonprofit Christian Ministry
100% Dependent on Donations/Funding
EIN: 75-2607488
-------
Read the Word, not just the words.
<*}}}><
On 10/19/03 10:19 PM, the CAP ministry wrote:
>
> Are you so lobotomized
Are you so manipulated by such "entertainment" as SP:BLU that you have no
respect? That much is at least obvious in this diatribe of yours.
> that you couldn't put it together that the movie
> South Park, for all its lack of substance, can only be wildly successful
> because people like you devote so much energy to telling people not watch
> it?
It's success has nothing to do with people like me who tell the truth about
such "entertainment" and everything to do with people like you who hunger
for that kind of filth.
> You do more to perpetuate "the problem" by holding it under a microscope
> than you would by ignoring it.
At least now you know it is a sin. What you do with that knowledge is up to
how mature you are.
> The unreligious expect you to react and you
> do.
I am happy to meet their expectations.
> I understand this country was settled by witch-hunting puritans,
No, it wasn't. A fractional minority of the settlers were evil is just like
a fractional minority of our population today just like a factional minority
of all the world's populations are evil, which you seem to fit into by your
lust for God-slapping tripe such as SP:BLU.
> but
> over the last however many hundreds of years, you'd think we'd come to see
> that the moral bar was set artificially, impossibly high.
By whose standards? Your comment shows precisely the point I am making:
that we have become so drugged by the narcotic effect of immoral extremes
that what once was morally unacceptable has become morally invisible.
> Specifically, I'd
> like to say that sex is good.
It is. But it is reserved for the heterosexual married couple. The moral
bar was not set too high, your morals cannot reach it is why it seems too
high. That is not the fault of the One who set the bar, it is your fault.
Get rid of all that excess "self" weight and you'll have a better chance at
reaching the bar.
> That's how new people are made.
Rape can make babies. Does that make rape good?
> Because people
> like you hide it from and condemn it to young people,
God did that. Not me. Take your argument for illicit sex to Him. He will
give you a much better Answer than I ever could.
> they come to see it as
> being an unnaturally large part of life, something worth being both obsessed
> with and ashamed of, and that is your worst mistake in your doomed crusade
> to cleanse the world.
And you will believe everything you read and hear?
That you make smooth noises someone has planted in you in favor of immoral
sex does not change the immorality of unwed sex.
> Just stop now and find some real peace,
I have. I truly have. Now it is your turn to stop and find peace. Because
from an open minded, objective viewpoint, what you have is certainly not
peace. You snivel and whimper well just like the toddler that decides
whatever s/he can see is his/hers; that whatever s/he can get his/her hands
on is his/hers who gets mad when s/he is denied that which s/he wants.
Reality is that just because you want something and think you should have it
if you want it does not make it yours.
> and let
> somebody else warn people about information that you don't give them credit
> for being able to process.
*You* haven't been able to "process" the "information" about SP:BLU yet: to
put into proper perspective that which was presented in it. Now you are
sounding like the drug dealer telling me to go ahead and take that first
hit. It won't hurt me! Go ahead! Try it! I'll be glad I did!
> If your religion is so great why do you have to
> protect its followers from information?
Because of people like you that try to tell everyone such "information" as
in SP:BLU is acceptable, moral, ethical, natural, expected, desirable,
.......
> Finally, you religious guys drive me
> nuts,
Then why are you visiting a Christian website? I suspect I already know the
answer to that.
> 1) because of your weird desire to be avatars of morality and
Of His morality, not yours, to be sure. And that you think it is weird does
not make it so.
> 2)
> because you pick on children,
And your unfair and totally one-sided claim that we are picking on children
is evidence of your mentality.
> the only people likely not to question your
> obsolete dogmatic hokum.
That you think God's standards are obsolete does not make them go away.
Whether you believe it or not.
> Food for thought, for free, from me to you: George
> Bernard Shaw once said "the vilest abortionist is he who attempts to mould a
> child's character."
Just like the devil would want it put. Think about that. It's free. It is
related to God Himself warning parents to not leave children to their own.
>
> Dale Shipley
> Minneapolis, MN
>
I suspect, Dale, that when you finally do get out into the real adult real
word your perspective will change. But you obviously have not been there
yet, probably by no fault of your own. But you will get there one day Be
patient. Then maybe you'll be able to reach the level of awareness I have:
one that brings tears to your eyes for what sinematic puke like SP:BLU does
to children like you, of which you are the perfect example: to defend that
which God condemns.
I am so incensed by hearing of stories like yours: of kids (which includes
at-home teens) being so manipulated by the very evils they defend that they
cannot see past the big screen; that unless your next message is more mature
and open minded about what is happening to you in the name of entertainment
such as SP:BLU you will be blocked from our inbox.
The ball is in your court.
In Service to His Little Ones through their Parents and Grandparents in His
Name by His Word
-------
Tom Carder
CAP Ministry
www.capalert.com
cap@capalert.com
A 501(c)(3) Nonprofit Christian Ministry
100% Dependent on Donations/Funding
EIN: 75-2607488
-------
Read the Word, not just the words.
<*}}}><
Rodney King Accused of Beating Woman, brought to you by KRON 4, the bubb rubb people, looks like they didn't beat his ass hard enough the first time
Sunday
A christian website that categorically analyzes movies' content and warns people against watching them. Here is the South Park review.
An email I sent the guy that runs that site:
Are you so lobotomized that you couldn't put it together that the movie South Park, for all its lack of substance, can only be wildly successful because people like you devote so much energy to telling people not watch it? You do more to perpetuate "the problem" by holding it under a microscope than you would by ignoring it. The unreligious expect you to react and you do. I understand this country was settled by witch-hunting puritans, but over the last however many hundreds of years, you'd think we'd come to see that the moral bar was set artificially, impossibly high. Specifically, I'd like to say that sex is good. That's how new people are made. Because people like you hide it from and condemn it to young people, they come to see it as being an unnaturally large part of life, something worth being both obsessed with and ashamed of, and that is your worst mistake in your doomed crusade to cleanse the world. Just stop now and find some real peace, and let somebody else warn people about information that you don't give them credit for being able to process. If your religion is so great why do you have to protect its followers from information? Finally, you religious guys drive me nuts, 1) because of your weird desire to be avatars of morality and 2) because you pick on children, the only people likely not to question your obsolete dogmatic hokum. Food for thought, for free, from me to you: George Bernard Shaw once said "the vilest abortionist is he who attempts to mould a child's character."
An email I sent the guy that runs that site:
Are you so lobotomized that you couldn't put it together that the movie South Park, for all its lack of substance, can only be wildly successful because people like you devote so much energy to telling people not watch it? You do more to perpetuate "the problem" by holding it under a microscope than you would by ignoring it. The unreligious expect you to react and you do. I understand this country was settled by witch-hunting puritans, but over the last however many hundreds of years, you'd think we'd come to see that the moral bar was set artificially, impossibly high. Specifically, I'd like to say that sex is good. That's how new people are made. Because people like you hide it from and condemn it to young people, they come to see it as being an unnaturally large part of life, something worth being both obsessed with and ashamed of, and that is your worst mistake in your doomed crusade to cleanse the world. Just stop now and find some real peace, and let somebody else warn people about information that you don't give them credit for being able to process. If your religion is so great why do you have to protect its followers from information? Finally, you religious guys drive me nuts, 1) because of your weird desire to be avatars of morality and 2) because you pick on children, the only people likely not to question your obsolete dogmatic hokum. Food for thought, for free, from me to you: George Bernard Shaw once said "the vilest abortionist is he who attempts to mould a child's character."
social hygiene posters
my favorite
I remember seeing this guy's art somewhere a long time ago, and here it is again. It's great when he does the stuff with ice. I think this blows away the guy who wraps everything in fabric.
Funny. An asian guy's page done up in fifties surf style
women from a man's perspective video, high bandwidth recommended
my favorite
I remember seeing this guy's art somewhere a long time ago, and here it is again. It's great when he does the stuff with ice. I think this blows away the guy who wraps everything in fabric.
Funny. An asian guy's page done up in fifties surf style
women from a man's perspective video, high bandwidth recommended
Saturday
Awkwardness arising from curiosity.
I saw three people outside just now on my way from one building to another and heard one of them crying. Two other people were attending to the crying one, which was a baby, and I approached them and asked them a question. "An adult that cries is doing it out of sadness, but a baby cries for lots of other reasons. I'm guessing that babies cry because they are in need or want of something rather than that they are sad, so what I'm interested in is at what age do you think a person starts to cry because he or she is sad?" At this point they attempted to answer, and it became clear that english was not their first language. We were all plenty confused by each other, and made our respective nods and pleasantries, and left the scene.
Indiana Jones game
Here are some absurd pictures of many naked women.
all about the number 666
Movie scripts
I saw three people outside just now on my way from one building to another and heard one of them crying. Two other people were attending to the crying one, which was a baby, and I approached them and asked them a question. "An adult that cries is doing it out of sadness, but a baby cries for lots of other reasons. I'm guessing that babies cry because they are in need or want of something rather than that they are sad, so what I'm interested in is at what age do you think a person starts to cry because he or she is sad?" At this point they attempted to answer, and it became clear that english was not their first language. We were all plenty confused by each other, and made our respective nods and pleasantries, and left the scene.
Indiana Jones game
Here are some absurd pictures of many naked women.
all about the number 666
Movie scripts
Puppets used to be cute, I thought, if a little odd, but this is just creepy.
It's spanish, but you'll understand what this page is getting at.
This sounds awesome: a 10-megabits-per-second indoor network that uses human bodies as portable ethernet cables.
Al Franken's book "Lies and the lying liars who tell them" is funny, sensitive, and impressive. Here's a review.
Be careful what computers you use for banking.
The official tear your hair out site of the day. I recommend you listen to the bubbles in the wine song for the full effect of heinousness. So so so bad.
Useless gif.
Not sure if I'm repeating myself, but it's worth it if I am.Billy bass flash movie. Not safe for work audio.
This video won't work here, but I'm hoping it's what it says it is: north korean anti-american propaganda.
It's spanish, but you'll understand what this page is getting at.
This sounds awesome: a 10-megabits-per-second indoor network that uses human bodies as portable ethernet cables.
Al Franken's book "Lies and the lying liars who tell them" is funny, sensitive, and impressive. Here's a review.
Be careful what computers you use for banking.
The official tear your hair out site of the day. I recommend you listen to the bubbles in the wine song for the full effect of heinousness. So so so bad.
Useless gif.
Not sure if I'm repeating myself, but it's worth it if I am.Billy bass flash movie. Not safe for work audio.
This video won't work here, but I'm hoping it's what it says it is: north korean anti-american propaganda.
Friday
My blog isn't so bad as all that. Look at this crap.
Preserving the sacred institution of marriage? It's called not cheating on your spouse. Damn. Keep your government out of my life, already.
What's on the radio? Right now? Everywhere? And how does it work?
Allow me to illustrate my point that there is no such thing as pornography. Information doesn't mean anything unless you say it does. Somebody saying something is bad don't make it that way. Everything is a surface, but you can still choose to enjoy this interesting form of sexual content. I won't think any less of you. What's with all the sex lately? Maybe it's the testosterone because I am a man. Oh well. You've been warned. Nakedness.And more lovely nakedness.
helicopter game
neato high speed photography
neato frisbee golf game
keep your beer cold, drink faster.
Forbes compiled a list of the richest fictional characters
You'll want to kill your computer if you play this
Britney spears lookalike. i think i'm done for the day.
What's on the radio? Right now? Everywhere? And how does it work?
Allow me to illustrate my point that there is no such thing as pornography. Information doesn't mean anything unless you say it does. Somebody saying something is bad don't make it that way. Everything is a surface, but you can still choose to enjoy this interesting form of sexual content. I won't think any less of you. What's with all the sex lately? Maybe it's the testosterone because I am a man. Oh well. You've been warned. Nakedness.And more lovely nakedness.
helicopter game
neato high speed photography
neato frisbee golf game
keep your beer cold, drink faster.
Forbes compiled a list of the richest fictional characters
You'll want to kill your computer if you play this
Britney spears lookalike. i think i'm done for the day.
spaced penguin is an addictive game like gorilla from quickbasic, only WAY FUNNER!!
Names and places have been changed to protect me
News of the Dale
Dateline: pharmaceutical resources office
Yesterday at unit 5G I saw where a nurse had been in the machine and drugs were missing. I did what I usually do when it appears that somebody is gonna get in deep shit, and that person is me: I went on the offensive.
A nurse named Ketherine Bleser had said there were fiften left. There were really thirteen. That means two were missing. They were fifty mg syringes of demerol. I was next to go in, at least that's what the computer said, and so either she or I took them. At least that's what the computer says. I, of course, didn't take them. I wouldn't take drugs from this place because I don't steal, I don't take drugs or know anyone who does, and because it's too damn easy. Ketherine Bleser, if she did take the stuff, managed to knock the cable loose in doing so, which is difficult but guarantees there will be someone else to blame it on. As it turns out, I am that somebody else.
Anyway, the unit is in a state of minor chaos. No nurses are around that can aid me in my quest to get off the hook. A pharmacist comes up and figures out how to make the problem go away, which is good, but does it with my account, which is bad. Now my problem is much bigger. I talked to a couple of people who divined how to get my ass out of trouble (even though, and because, I didn't actually do anything wrong) and kept it in the back of my mind in case the phone rang today with the call "Yeah, Dale, we don't need you to come in today. Looks like you cleared your own discrepancy and that ain't cool. No hard feelings. Toodles." The phone call didn't come, I showed up at work, and everything was normal. Until I went to help out with a little problem and many of my functions were disabled. Two of the things I do every day many times to keep patients swimming in heavenly opiates are now things of the past. Ironically, I can still do these things, but I'll have to use hardware instead of software to make it happen, and now anything I actually steal will be completely untraceable as a matter of necessity. The administration puts its faith (not all of it, of course, or I wouldn't be here right now, working hard at my job) with a computer system that is easy to get around. I'll bet Ketherine Bleser would fail a quick drug test.
News of the Dale
Dateline: pharmaceutical resources office
Yesterday at unit 5G I saw where a nurse had been in the machine and drugs were missing. I did what I usually do when it appears that somebody is gonna get in deep shit, and that person is me: I went on the offensive.
A nurse named Ketherine Bleser had said there were fiften left. There were really thirteen. That means two were missing. They were fifty mg syringes of demerol. I was next to go in, at least that's what the computer said, and so either she or I took them. At least that's what the computer says. I, of course, didn't take them. I wouldn't take drugs from this place because I don't steal, I don't take drugs or know anyone who does, and because it's too damn easy. Ketherine Bleser, if she did take the stuff, managed to knock the cable loose in doing so, which is difficult but guarantees there will be someone else to blame it on. As it turns out, I am that somebody else.
Anyway, the unit is in a state of minor chaos. No nurses are around that can aid me in my quest to get off the hook. A pharmacist comes up and figures out how to make the problem go away, which is good, but does it with my account, which is bad. Now my problem is much bigger. I talked to a couple of people who divined how to get my ass out of trouble (even though, and because, I didn't actually do anything wrong) and kept it in the back of my mind in case the phone rang today with the call "Yeah, Dale, we don't need you to come in today. Looks like you cleared your own discrepancy and that ain't cool. No hard feelings. Toodles." The phone call didn't come, I showed up at work, and everything was normal. Until I went to help out with a little problem and many of my functions were disabled. Two of the things I do every day many times to keep patients swimming in heavenly opiates are now things of the past. Ironically, I can still do these things, but I'll have to use hardware instead of software to make it happen, and now anything I actually steal will be completely untraceable as a matter of necessity. The administration puts its faith (not all of it, of course, or I wouldn't be here right now, working hard at my job) with a computer system that is easy to get around. I'll bet Ketherine Bleser would fail a quick drug test.
Thursday
Better go get the FIVE new windows patches
this game is a little fun, a little complicated
sperm react to coffee
and speaking of sex, selling bracelets in the town of lakeland, florida is lucrative as hell
drinking can be fun, but it can also go too far > .43!?
woman stalks bus driver, sends 1,000 letters
the spot in my heart for everybody getting all the information they want regardless of age is throbbing
America doesn't need any more of this kind of crazy shit
Saudi women take their headdresses off, get punished. It'll be nice if we can get past the "women take off their clothes and everyone freaks out" phase of cultural development both here and in the middle east. But that probably won't happen.
this game is a little fun, a little complicated
sperm react to coffee
and speaking of sex, selling bracelets in the town of lakeland, florida is lucrative as hell
drinking can be fun, but it can also go too far > .43!?
woman stalks bus driver, sends 1,000 letters
the spot in my heart for everybody getting all the information they want regardless of age is throbbing
America doesn't need any more of this kind of crazy shit
Saudi women take their headdresses off, get punished. It'll be nice if we can get past the "women take off their clothes and everyone freaks out" phase of cultural development both here and in the middle east. But that probably won't happen.
Last night my brother got the idea to make up a song. We didn't know what to sing about but then an eighteen wheeler almost ran us off the road. At that point the melody took shape, followed by the words. The words alone do not do it justice, but they'll have to suffice.
Well he hasn't had sleep in many moons so he's running people over like water balloons
Well he don't give a damn about the load he lugs 'cause he stole his nephew's prescription drugs
Well he's trying to keep his rig between the lines but it's kind of hard to do with a broken spine
Well his knuckles are white and his eyes are red 'cause it's been two weeks since he went to bed
Well he's been fired and it's time to leave so he's selling his ass to Bruce and Steve
He's got a trailer full of cattle and an itchy crotch so he eats a big mac while he makes them watch
He does twelve lines of coke just to stay awake, three states ago he disconnected the brakes
If you don't move over and let him pass he's gonna drive that truck right up your ass
Well his wife's been cheatin while he's away, so he does a half gram of coke a day
He drives four hundred miles on a head full of speed but it still won't fulfill his aching need
Well he don't give a damn where he goes any more he just pushes that pedal down to the floor
Well he don't give a damn about the highway patrol and the ninth gate of hell is eating his soul
He keeps a gun in the cabin in case he sees a cop cause he'll do anything to keep from having to stop
He keeps driving like hell in his big ass truck just running people over 'cause he don't give a fuck
Well his nose is bleeding and his pupils are big so he keeps on driving that bad-ass rig
He's done so much meth his head's about to explode but he's got to keep hauling that heavy load
When he dies and I know he will he just wants to be strapped to the grill
Well he's running out of bullets from shooting dogs but he don't put it down in his truckin' logs
He tries to hold it in but it's leaking out that's what being a trucker is all about
Well he's going real fast 'cause of too much speed and he needs to slow down so he smokes some weed
Well his axles are broken and his wheels are shot, where he's goin he done forgot
Well there ain't another exit for a hundred miles but he don't give a damn 'cause he's pukin' bile
Well he's goin' real fast around a dangerous curve 'cause the methamphetamines have fried his nerves
Well he's scarin' hitchhikers and he don't know why so he asks his puppet mordecai
Well you can't see fear in his bloodshot eyes 'cause he don't give a damn if he lives or dies
Well he passed the weigh station at the county line 'cause he don't give a damn about the fine
Well he ain't been in love since he don't know when but his hooker is stayin at the shoney's inn
Well he'll run your ass right off the road 'cause he don't give a damn if your car explodes
Well his load is shifting and his knuckles are white, he's a bat out of hell screaming throught the night
Well he's on qualuudes and percodan so you just can't stop this truckin' man
Well they took his license in Arkansas but he don't give a damn about the law
Well he dropped of his load at the fifteenth gate and he's starting to hallucinate
Well, fifth gear is the only one he knows 'cause he don't give a damn about drivin' slow
He don't give a damn about following rules, like those sissies in trucker school
He's got a heart infarction and his lungs won't expand and his aorta's blocked but he don't give a damn
Well he don't give a damn about the radio, just the voices in his head saying GO GO GO
Well the other guys on the old CB stopped talking to him in 1993
Well he hasn't had sleep in many moons so he's running people over like water balloons
Well he don't give a damn about the load he lugs 'cause he stole his nephew's prescription drugs
Well he's trying to keep his rig between the lines but it's kind of hard to do with a broken spine
Well his knuckles are white and his eyes are red 'cause it's been two weeks since he went to bed
Well he's been fired and it's time to leave so he's selling his ass to Bruce and Steve
He's got a trailer full of cattle and an itchy crotch so he eats a big mac while he makes them watch
He does twelve lines of coke just to stay awake, three states ago he disconnected the brakes
If you don't move over and let him pass he's gonna drive that truck right up your ass
Well his wife's been cheatin while he's away, so he does a half gram of coke a day
He drives four hundred miles on a head full of speed but it still won't fulfill his aching need
Well he don't give a damn where he goes any more he just pushes that pedal down to the floor
Well he don't give a damn about the highway patrol and the ninth gate of hell is eating his soul
He keeps a gun in the cabin in case he sees a cop cause he'll do anything to keep from having to stop
He keeps driving like hell in his big ass truck just running people over 'cause he don't give a fuck
Well his nose is bleeding and his pupils are big so he keeps on driving that bad-ass rig
He's done so much meth his head's about to explode but he's got to keep hauling that heavy load
When he dies and I know he will he just wants to be strapped to the grill
Well he's running out of bullets from shooting dogs but he don't put it down in his truckin' logs
He tries to hold it in but it's leaking out that's what being a trucker is all about
Well he's going real fast 'cause of too much speed and he needs to slow down so he smokes some weed
Well his axles are broken and his wheels are shot, where he's goin he done forgot
Well there ain't another exit for a hundred miles but he don't give a damn 'cause he's pukin' bile
Well he's goin' real fast around a dangerous curve 'cause the methamphetamines have fried his nerves
Well he's scarin' hitchhikers and he don't know why so he asks his puppet mordecai
Well you can't see fear in his bloodshot eyes 'cause he don't give a damn if he lives or dies
Well he passed the weigh station at the county line 'cause he don't give a damn about the fine
Well he ain't been in love since he don't know when but his hooker is stayin at the shoney's inn
Well he'll run your ass right off the road 'cause he don't give a damn if your car explodes
Well his load is shifting and his knuckles are white, he's a bat out of hell screaming throught the night
Well he's on qualuudes and percodan so you just can't stop this truckin' man
Well they took his license in Arkansas but he don't give a damn about the law
Well he dropped of his load at the fifteenth gate and he's starting to hallucinate
Well, fifth gear is the only one he knows 'cause he don't give a damn about drivin' slow
He don't give a damn about following rules, like those sissies in trucker school
He's got a heart infarction and his lungs won't expand and his aorta's blocked but he don't give a damn
Well he don't give a damn about the radio, just the voices in his head saying GO GO GO
Well the other guys on the old CB stopped talking to him in 1993
Tuesday
Well, I know you've been missing me my darlings, but in the hills of tennessee it's hard to ge tto the internet. I'm at Crossville's library, trying to squeeze as much as I can into the ten minutes until I have to go somewhere else, and I have to get up now and leave because the filling I just got from my dad the dentist next door is making me want to expectorate like a llama. I can't feel my mouth and I'm sure I'll bite the hell out of the inside of my mouth. Mepivicaine. Different than novocaine but I'm not sure how. On leaving, though, I have to say that the library crowd is different and more enjoyable than any other that I've encountered in this town in which i was raised up strong and brave. They are the comparitively enlightened. My dad gave me treason by Ann Coulter to read a week ago when he visited me in Minneapolis. I gagged and bought Lies, etc. by Al Franken. When I went to my checkup at his office yesterday I wrapped Lies in the Treason book jacket so as not to have him think I was trying to provoke him. And because he wields the mighty and fearsome tooth drill, which does 30 thousand rps. Yo.
Friday
Stuff you already knew, and they didn't. Cretinous zealots. Well, some people actually need god to help them explain their insanity.
Rush Limbaugh is addicted to pain medicine. Sad.
Bigfoot found, looks like.
Gay marriage chapel destroyed. What's next? Destroy everything, I guess. Pat Robertson's all for it. I wish the rapture would fucking hurry up already.
Staring as a sport.
Make your own movie, link goes to mine.
Get your patriotism on.
Horny ravers go at it on a dance floor. Safe for work.
Here's a fun'n! Add a quote, have it judged.
You know you want to.
Rush Limbaugh is addicted to pain medicine. Sad.
Bigfoot found, looks like.
Gay marriage chapel destroyed. What's next? Destroy everything, I guess. Pat Robertson's all for it. I wish the rapture would fucking hurry up already.
Staring as a sport.
Make your own movie, link goes to mine.
Get your patriotism on.
Horny ravers go at it on a dance floor. Safe for work.
Here's a fun'n! Add a quote, have it judged.
You know you want to.
An important artistic observation:
On the sidewalk a girl is walking. She takes a step and a clunky, foamy sandal goes "thop" against her heel. On the fourteen-story building next door five feet of sunshine remain as the sun sinks under the horizon. I barely notice that she hasn't noticed a squirrel getting out of her way, because the sound "thop" is making me think about other curved surfaces and the sounds you can make on them with a cupped hand, but thank god for that squirrel. Leaves are attempting a small tornado but rise in an eddy to be met again by contradictory leaves, making the most of their iteration before the long cycle of decay and rebirth. In the middle distance a guy falls off a skateboard but catches himself before the ground does. His skateboard makes a crashing sound that echoes off of many near walls. The squirrel is gone. The sandal goes "thop". The sun retreats by eight inches. Brick walls radiate the heat they've gathered all day. An office guy flirts with a nurse. Leaves rattle. "Thop".
On the sidewalk a girl is walking. She takes a step and a clunky, foamy sandal goes "thop" against her heel. On the fourteen-story building next door five feet of sunshine remain as the sun sinks under the horizon. I barely notice that she hasn't noticed a squirrel getting out of her way, because the sound "thop" is making me think about other curved surfaces and the sounds you can make on them with a cupped hand, but thank god for that squirrel. Leaves are attempting a small tornado but rise in an eddy to be met again by contradictory leaves, making the most of their iteration before the long cycle of decay and rebirth. In the middle distance a guy falls off a skateboard but catches himself before the ground does. His skateboard makes a crashing sound that echoes off of many near walls. The squirrel is gone. The sandal goes "thop". The sun retreats by eight inches. Brick walls radiate the heat they've gathered all day. An office guy flirts with a nurse. Leaves rattle. "Thop".
I'm pretty happy today about a new method of circumventing network security, so I can check my email at work again.
Another amazing tale of survival.
Grody. How to cook a placenta.
conspiracy flowchart
addictive reflex tester
soda constructor
drunk propaganda
fill your brain with useless trivia here
hack this site
Another amazing tale of survival.
Grody. How to cook a placenta.
conspiracy flowchart
addictive reflex tester
soda constructor
drunk propaganda
fill your brain with useless trivia here
hack this site
Thursday
Thanks, symantec, for hijacking my computer as i was attempting to publish my blog. I lost a lot of work. I hope your attempt to control everything works out to your detriment.
Anyway, to start completely over from scratch,... screw it. I'm doing different stuff now.
Redheads, bless them, are the most beautiful girls in the world. This news story explains why.
I quit crying very much about two years ago. It just stopped. I'm glad. I remembered one of the things that made me feel like crying today walking through the pharmacy, and a lump came to my throat, which I am just now swallowing. Starting a new job that I thought would be better, and was, for various reasons, than the last one, and having a moment when I looked around the new place and saw the edges of it and smelled it and listened to it and hated it, I knew that this was only the first day, and that I was locked into a long time being somewhere that was very very wrong for me. Those were sad days and nights. Making the most of a place is the goal, or even not noticing may be preferable, but sometimes you just got your hopes up, or there was some vibration in the air, that turned you a color. This is making little or no sense but I'm not going to try to clean it up because I just don't want to right now.
Anyway, to start completely over from scratch,... screw it. I'm doing different stuff now.
Redheads, bless them, are the most beautiful girls in the world. This news story explains why.
I quit crying very much about two years ago. It just stopped. I'm glad. I remembered one of the things that made me feel like crying today walking through the pharmacy, and a lump came to my throat, which I am just now swallowing. Starting a new job that I thought would be better, and was, for various reasons, than the last one, and having a moment when I looked around the new place and saw the edges of it and smelled it and listened to it and hated it, I knew that this was only the first day, and that I was locked into a long time being somewhere that was very very wrong for me. Those were sad days and nights. Making the most of a place is the goal, or even not noticing may be preferable, but sometimes you just got your hopes up, or there was some vibration in the air, that turned you a color. This is making little or no sense but I'm not going to try to clean it up because I just don't want to right now.
Last night at work I was too dang busy to update. Dry your tears. Tonight is slower. The joint commision was here today and everybody was on their best behavior, which resembled a coke party minus the nosebleeds. JACO, as they're called, raised hell a few years ago when it was shown that our safety procedures were, let's just say, below par. On a related note, a kid got killed here when they did an MRI on him but forgot to take the oxygen tanks out of the room. When they switched on the mega-magnet the incredibly heavy cylinders made a beeline for their mama, through the air and the space which that kid's head was occupying. Oxygen tanks one, kid zero. It's things like this that the joint commision ostensibly exists to guard against, but no mountain of paperwork can replace just some guy or girl with a little common sense. Lawsuits being the new reality for all of us in this day in age, we'll all have to sign a lot of papers we don't have time to read because we're too busy doing what we do, which is helping each other live.
What is patriotism? Please email me with the answer at grackle1010 at yahoo.com.
gee, I wonder who did this?
y do we age? I'll tell you why. Because god wants us to, that's why. That's also the reason my kids should shut up. Because I said so, that's why. There's two rules in my and in god's house. Rule #1, the man is always right. Rule 2, if in doubt, see rule 1. And that's the way it is, by golly.
What is patriotism? Please email me with the answer at grackle1010 at yahoo.com.
gee, I wonder who did this?
y do we age? I'll tell you why. Because god wants us to, that's why. That's also the reason my kids should shut up. Because I said so, that's why. There's two rules in my and in god's house. Rule #1, the man is always right. Rule 2, if in doubt, see rule 1. And that's the way it is, by golly.
Tuesday
Quorporation eye candy. Nice flash art stuff.
Looks like with the help of Symantec the place I work is starting to restrict the pages I can view. If I can't do good work I won't do any, so if the updates are rarer, that's the reason.
Looks like with the help of Symantec the place I work is starting to restrict the pages I can view. If I can't do good work I won't do any, so if the updates are rarer, that's the reason.
A friend of mine who desires to remain unidentified has a problem, and this is an open call for recommended solutions. He allegedly experiences excruciating, throbbing headaches immediately on completion of sexual congress. He says it feels like Satan is inside his head and is throwing the most screechingly evil death metal party, or as a sick joke is cranking christian hair metal. He says it feels like his head is about to explode and he almost wishes it would, just to put an end to the awful, cruel torture. He can't stand up in this condition and must lie down and hold his head in his hands, asking why lord, why have you done this to me? Is it some punishment for enjoying himself, when he should be glorifying the name of his creator and spreading the good word to all corners of the globe? At this point, his girlfriend is concerned and brings him aspirin and doesn't know what the hell to do about it, either. So for this friend of mine, please email me anything you can come up with at grackle1010 at yahoo.com. He'll appreciate the chance to resume life as he knew it, back when it was fun to get it on like the easter bunny. I love the juxtaposition of children with the bunny on a christian holiday, considering the bunny's original representative purpose as a fertility symbol, and the christian right's attitudes about sex. Just imagine if everyone knew and were able to internalize the truth about reproduction and how central it is to our existence. Life would be something to celebrate, not ancient, bloody religions.
Rhetoric toolbox. Good for us!
Dialect, anyone?
It may be homosexual necrophilia but it's safe for work!
If you had time for that, you'll have time for this. Exile.
Rhetoric toolbox. Good for us!
Dialect, anyone?
It may be homosexual necrophilia but it's safe for work!
If you had time for that, you'll have time for this. Exile.
Hogging is the short way to say sleeping with fat women.
FCC okays the word "fucking" when used as an adjective.
Scroll lock explained
Hearts set to break Thanksgiving, heal by following Monday
Silly muslims, sex is not your enemy.
No link, but someone sold an air guitar on ebay. An air guitar.
FCC okays the word "fucking" when used as an adjective.
Scroll lock explained
Hearts set to break Thanksgiving, heal by following Monday
Silly muslims, sex is not your enemy.
No link, but someone sold an air guitar on ebay. An air guitar.
Indian summer has come. It's the last gasp of warmth before the world goes into hibernation, and flesh disappears underneath layers of fleeces from Old Navy and trendy fall jackets. Slightly melancholy, we pack up our memories of the balmy laze and batten the hatches. I find myself thinking it must be a good season to have a family of your own.
My father and his wife were in town this weekend and we did a lot of movie-watching, bookstore browsing, and cutting up.
Movie: Vince McMahon has correctly judged the adolescent tastes of United Statesian moviegoers with his production "the roundup", real reviews here starring "the rock", a professional wrestler whose bountiful charisma allows him to perpetrate the silly slogan (not in the movie, mind you, in wrestling; real life, as it were) "can you smell what the rock is cooking?" It's ninety minutes of buddy-humor, peppered with slapstick ass-kicking and shot with style. The movie is so character-intensive that at one point I had to actually look off-screen. Yes, children, I had become tired of looking at the rock. Other than that moment it was fully enjoyable, but don't think it gets much better than the opening sequence, which may be the best action sequence (minus the gratuitous white-girl-black-guy-nightclub-grinding, which takes less than a second each shot but is conspicuous as hell) ever to introduce a film. The plot is straight out of the rejected Indiana Jones script vault, hokey but bearable. Expect a sequel.
My father and his wife were in town this weekend and we did a lot of movie-watching, bookstore browsing, and cutting up.
Movie: Vince McMahon has correctly judged the adolescent tastes of United Statesian moviegoers with his production "the roundup", real reviews here starring "the rock", a professional wrestler whose bountiful charisma allows him to perpetrate the silly slogan (not in the movie, mind you, in wrestling; real life, as it were) "can you smell what the rock is cooking?" It's ninety minutes of buddy-humor, peppered with slapstick ass-kicking and shot with style. The movie is so character-intensive that at one point I had to actually look off-screen. Yes, children, I had become tired of looking at the rock. Other than that moment it was fully enjoyable, but don't think it gets much better than the opening sequence, which may be the best action sequence (minus the gratuitous white-girl-black-guy-nightclub-grinding, which takes less than a second each shot but is conspicuous as hell) ever to introduce a film. The plot is straight out of the rejected Indiana Jones script vault, hokey but bearable. Expect a sequel.
Monday
Let's face it, it's obvious that most of psychology is out of touch when it's a revelation that happiness and sadness are linked and not separate.
Crazy: a fish called ONDA
our president
again
again
again
again
Incentive not to join the Indonesian military
free speech is in danger as usual
Crazy: a fish called ONDA
our president
again
again
again
again
Incentive not to join the Indonesian military
free speech is in danger as usual
After a night at the bar I'm wondering, which is the right way to leave the bar, as opposed to knowing either everything or nothing. I'm wondering about exactly what we call the social conventions we succumb to in order to make nice and keep everything normal. What do we sacrifice? What don't we do that we might do, to make life easier on everyone? What do we want to do that we don't? What I don't is very often to spout exuberance in general. There are so many things to say and so few appropriate contexts. Is it a decision to create the context, or to find a way to fit in? It must be a combination. I'm drunk, and now you know about it. Does that give you some grim satisfaction? Does that make you feel more sane, or more real, or more realistic than me? If so, please drop me a line, because I hate crap like that. I'm just a guy, and I expect all the courtesy that should come with that and no less.
Friday
And I've about had it with the popularity of obey, andre the giant has a posse, etc. So thanks for beating me to it, somebody.
A stolen quote that I will no longer enjoy in about three minutes, no, one: "Plastic asks nothing else of you except pretense. It is what all true art is--pure surface. It has no depths and it wants none. Nor is it pretentious in any manner. It never asks for sacrifice. In fact, it never asks for anything. Thus, it has integrity."
My firned jsut worte to say taht aocrcindg to a Cmbaigdre Uvintseiry sdtuy, it dnsoe't metatr waht oderr the ltetres of a wrod are in as lnog as the frsit and lsat ltetres are in teihr cceorrt pacle. Bcusaee the bairn rgeoczeins the wrod as a wlohe.
Building on a theme, it could be worse. These women are virually guaranteed to destroy your life, pick a method.
My firned jsut worte to say taht aocrcindg to a Cmbaigdre Uvintseiry sdtuy, it dnsoe't metatr waht oderr the ltetres of a wrod are in as lnog as the frsit and lsat ltetres are in teihr cceorrt pacle. Bcusaee the bairn rgeoczeins the wrod as a wlohe.
Building on a theme, it could be worse. These women are virually guaranteed to destroy your life, pick a method.
Thursday
Let this nice piece of writing chase away the bad feelings.
Stephen Jay Gould, may he rest in peace, by which I mean far from the heavenly residence of malt liquor-guzzling thug Tupac Shakur, was a lecturer in natural history. If you have time, read some of his greatest hits here. I just fininshed this one. Juicy excerpt: "The basic attack of modern creationists falls apart on two general counts before we even reach the supposed factual details of their assault against evolution. First..." If that doesn't interest you, maybe this will.
"Doctor" Laura says that women should have sex any time their husbands want to.
My family life could have been worse growing up.
Stephen Jay Gould, may he rest in peace, by which I mean far from the heavenly residence of malt liquor-guzzling thug Tupac Shakur, was a lecturer in natural history. If you have time, read some of his greatest hits here. I just fininshed this one. Juicy excerpt: "The basic attack of modern creationists falls apart on two general counts before we even reach the supposed factual details of their assault against evolution. First..." If that doesn't interest you, maybe this will.
"Doctor" Laura says that women should have sex any time their husbands want to.
My family life could have been worse growing up.
The other day my expertise was requested to help the pharmacists break into a cabinet containing vast quantities of narcotics. I usually try to ignore my surroundings at work to a point, because much in the same way that no one with two broken wrists likes to explain to every person they meet how they came to be broken, people at work like to do their jobs quietly and without fuss and egagement so they can leave more mental space for things they care about. In the case of the people working in the inpatient pharmacy, however, who enjoy watching and then discussing mindless Japanese cartoons at great length, I felt it was appropriate to inquire why the cabinet had been moved, rendering its functions of inventory useless. It turns out that a road used to run right through where the pharmacy is, and below that road had been pipes. Pipes, most likely, for transporting both clean and waste water. A mysterious substance began seeping up through the floor underneath the narcotic cabinet, and no records were available on the pipes, so no one knows what that stuff is. So in this hospital that is packed with patients praying for various organs to become available to save their lives, where bone marrow transplants are a daily occurrence, where the ill come when they are too ill to be absolutely anywhere else, there is a weird fluid bubbling from the floor in the pharmacy. Not comforting in any sense except that reality will come and find you wherever you are. Chaos is always where we didn't know to expect to find it.
There have been many who have tried and failed to exactly duplicate the qualities of ham using turkey and other meats and substances. Nothing is exactly like ham, no matter how hard you try. Therefore, everything is either better or worse than ham. For example, beer is better than ham. Getting your hand slammed in a door is worse than ham. Analyzing the differences in the relative quality of different things to ham helps me stay objective, which, of course, is better than ham.
The bus I take to work takes in the neighborhood of forty-five minutes to get there. During this forty-five minutes, at least three children can be expected to squeal and/or cry, one extremeley drunk person of the native American persuasion can be expected to ask me a random question (today it was "Why you hate the teachers? Why you hate the preachers?" Then in a fit of creative genius, "Why you hate the teachers and the preachers?"), and at least one wheelchair can be expected to delay the bus. The wheelchairs I don't mind, but when a person is so fat that they can't climb aboard using the stairs and we have to wait for the driver to operate the lift to heft their chub, I get cranky.
This paragraph will hopefully imitate what I don't like about the writing of James Lileks, author of the "Backfence" column in a local newspaper. I spoke to my brother Joe last night, and he suggested we make a show called "queer eye for the queer guy." I say why stop there, when we can do "Eye for the blind guy, a wild romp through experimental opthalmology"? Since it's bound to be such a hit, we'll follow it up the next season with "Why pinkeye with a sty makes Robert Bly cry". And then what would be EVEN FUNNIER THAN THAT... damn you, James Lileks. Just damn you.
I, on the other hand, am so funny, listen to what I came up with today: when a lightbulb conspicuously needed changing directly over the speaker at a comedy convention, all participants knew at once that they were at the apex of some cruel and fitting joke. Eh?
Eh? Yeah. Actually, you know what's funny? An unexpected shift in context. Har.
This paragraph will hopefully imitate what I don't like about the writing of James Lileks, author of the "Backfence" column in a local newspaper. I spoke to my brother Joe last night, and he suggested we make a show called "queer eye for the queer guy." I say why stop there, when we can do "Eye for the blind guy, a wild romp through experimental opthalmology"? Since it's bound to be such a hit, we'll follow it up the next season with "Why pinkeye with a sty makes Robert Bly cry". And then what would be EVEN FUNNIER THAN THAT... damn you, James Lileks. Just damn you.
I, on the other hand, am so funny, listen to what I came up with today: when a lightbulb conspicuously needed changing directly over the speaker at a comedy convention, all participants knew at once that they were at the apex of some cruel and fitting joke. Eh?
Eh? Yeah. Actually, you know what's funny? An unexpected shift in context. Har.
Wednesday
If you want to learn some stuff go to MIT open course ware. There, you are now an expert in many fields of human knowledge.
Dumb shit.
Anti-rape device to make a big debut in South Africa, I imagine. From the birthplace of flamethrowing car security comes a tampon that chops would-be rapists' penises off. Yo.
Celebrate your masculinity with a slideshow of hot women. Hot women and their tiny, tiny pants.
Dumb shit.
Anti-rape device to make a big debut in South Africa, I imagine. From the birthplace of flamethrowing car security comes a tampon that chops would-be rapists' penises off. Yo.
Celebrate your masculinity with a slideshow of hot women. Hot women and their tiny, tiny pants.
Post-feminism's time has come. Let the beatings begin.
Well, I had a birthday yesterday, and it was a great day. I wasn't online at all. I got a lot of nice stuff, and if anyone reading this gave me any of it, thanks. What I really wanted was an oven mitt with a picture of a celebrity on it, any celebrity, as long as they're very, very famous. I can't think of anything tackier at the moment, but it has been over a year since I received a fingerhut catalog.
I spent the better part of the morning today at the courthouse, not getting grilled by the defense attorney, which I had every reason to expect I would. I was going to be a witness for a friend who picked up a DUI while I was in the car. Our strategy was to convince the court that the stop leading to the arrest was itself illegal, and I thought our chances were good of making it happen. But lo and behold, mandatory training today for the arresting officer, and the state's case went straight to shit. I didn't have to say anything, and actually was helping by being there. The D.A. saw that we were ready to go and bumped the charge down to careless driving, which, ironically, was exactly what didn't happen. My friend took the deal, and since the D.A. was a woman, I believe that there is somewhere a man whose wife will be bitchy this evening.
Another time, the same friend wanted to get some money out of the bank. This was about two days after the aforementioned arrest, during which they had clipped his license, making it invalid. The bank wouldn't take his identification and he was upset, so he broke their door on the way out. (Eventually, he took a pair of nail clippers to the clipped corner to make it look like a cat had got hold of it, and no one ever gave him crap about it again.) He had gone to the extent of asking the people at the bank to call the cops to verify his identity but they wouldn't, because you can't get the cops to show up without somebody breaking the law. I think it's pretty obvious what you do in a situation like that, but he didn't agree, hence a door was broken. What you do is, you say :"One way or another I'm leaving this bank with some money. Now you can call the police now, or later." The brilliance of this plan is that the threat to rob is implicit only on the condition that the police are NOT called. 1) Company policy is bound to be fuzzy on this issue so they might just take your ID and forget about it, or 2) They'd probably arrest you, but any court in the land should throw that one out for extreme cleverness. At least that's how it works in Dale's fantasy world.
I spent the better part of the morning today at the courthouse, not getting grilled by the defense attorney, which I had every reason to expect I would. I was going to be a witness for a friend who picked up a DUI while I was in the car. Our strategy was to convince the court that the stop leading to the arrest was itself illegal, and I thought our chances were good of making it happen. But lo and behold, mandatory training today for the arresting officer, and the state's case went straight to shit. I didn't have to say anything, and actually was helping by being there. The D.A. saw that we were ready to go and bumped the charge down to careless driving, which, ironically, was exactly what didn't happen. My friend took the deal, and since the D.A. was a woman, I believe that there is somewhere a man whose wife will be bitchy this evening.
Another time, the same friend wanted to get some money out of the bank. This was about two days after the aforementioned arrest, during which they had clipped his license, making it invalid. The bank wouldn't take his identification and he was upset, so he broke their door on the way out. (Eventually, he took a pair of nail clippers to the clipped corner to make it look like a cat had got hold of it, and no one ever gave him crap about it again.) He had gone to the extent of asking the people at the bank to call the cops to verify his identity but they wouldn't, because you can't get the cops to show up without somebody breaking the law. I think it's pretty obvious what you do in a situation like that, but he didn't agree, hence a door was broken. What you do is, you say :"One way or another I'm leaving this bank with some money. Now you can call the police now, or later." The brilliance of this plan is that the threat to rob is implicit only on the condition that the police are NOT called. 1) Company policy is bound to be fuzzy on this issue so they might just take your ID and forget about it, or 2) They'd probably arrest you, but any court in the land should throw that one out for extreme cleverness. At least that's how it works in Dale's fantasy world.
bowling green sewing machine
retina barbecue
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