mad drunk genius

I used to have all sorts of problems. Now there's just the one.

Month: December, 2006

”So this is the source of all knowledge, then?”

The protagonist asked, looking at the ruined stone arches and crumbling walkways beneath his feet. The rose-colored pool on either side swirled constantly, probably because of the stiff wind, and the weeds occasionally took on the appearance of familiar shapes or faces. The protagonist assumed it was just tricks of the eye and mind and was thoroughly unimpressed.

“Yes,” said the robed figure standing under one of the broken arches, “This is that place.”

“I guess knowing everything really means knowing everything but masonry, huh?”

“Or perhaps when one has all knowledge, one does not concern one’s self with works of stone,” the robed figure replied.

The protagonist shrugged and glanced down at his feet where some weeds had blown out of the pool and onto the walkway. They moved almost like a sentient thing for a moment before sliding slowly back into the water. The protagonist rolled his eyes.

“Then let’s get on with the omniscience, shall we? I’m already sick of caring about architecture, so it shouldn’t be much of a change.”

The robed figure nodded and disrobed. The clothes fell at his feet and revealed that he was a him in only the non-gender-specific sense. He lacked all genitals and even normal orifices. When he spoke again, the protagonist saw his mouth—his everything, actually—was covered by flesh and the only openings on his body at all were the pus-seeping sores dotting him, head to toe.

“Kneel and drink from the pool on either side of you,” the now disrobed figure instructed, “Drink and know all you have ever desired. Know all and more still.”

The protagonist cocked an eyebrow and knelt cautiously. His hands nearly touched the water when he drew them back to his side, shaking.

“Tell me, good-lookin’, what happened to you with the skin and sores wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with drinking from this pool, would it?”

“When one knows all, one’s vanity ceases to be important,” the disrobed figure said, jaw moving up and down behind a curtain of skin.

“Be that as it may,” the protagonist said, “I am quite vain now, and certainly quite pretty. This is part of who I am. Maybe not my most attractive quality, but part of who I am nonetheless. I want to know everything because I’m ambitious, but the narcissist in me wants nothing more than that: to be myself and know everything. If I know so much I no longer care about appearances, I don’t suppose you could really call me ‘me’, could you? In fact, I think it would mean I’d be you. And no offense, but I do not envy you.”

“This is because you are ignorant, ignorant of the present as much as the future. Even of the past you are ignorant and forgetful. This was a long journey, was it not?” the figure said, drawing the robes back over himself and placing the hood to shade his face once again. “Turn away now, and you will be condemned to your ignorance forever. There is no greater ignorance than the grave, forgetting all, learning nothing, perceiving nothing. Drink and you will live forever.”

The protagonist scratched his chin and looked back into the swirling water. A group of weeds seemed to turn into the face of his father for a moment before coming apart again. The longer he looked, the more people he saw. Brothers, lovers, friends, strangers. All alive at some time and dead now, or whenever their deaths became now. He hadn’t even let a drop touch his lips, but maybe the vapors were enough for him to see with total certainty the eventual demises of everyone he had ever known or in fact would ever know. And then at last he saw his own death, the death he would receive if he walked away from this opportunity now.

He switched his hand from his chin to the back of his neck and continued thinking for another moment.

“You know, as much as I’d love to live forever, I’m also quite lazy. I thought knowing everything might make lfe easier, but if I’m going to know how never to die, that’s quite a lot of work, and I’m not sure I can handle that,” the protagonist rambled, “Plus, there’s all of that pus that has to get all over your robes and after a while it must really smell awful. Not that you have a nose to notice…”

The protagonist frowned then looked back at the re-robed figure, but found he’d already begun to walk away into further ruins.

“Hey, you know everything, don’t you?” the protagonist shouted, “Just tell me what I’m going to choose already so I can hurry up and get it over with”

“You will do the opposite of what I tell you in order to prove a point,” the figure said, “So you walk away from the water when I tell you you will drink it.”

The protagonist grinned.

“I knew this omniscience was load of shit,” he said, standing up again, “It’s just a bunch of doubletalk and horseshit.” The protagonist took a step back from the edge of the walkway, and stopped. “Whatever you received, I’ll receive a double portion.”

And with that the protagonist leapt into the rose-colored waters and sank like a stone into the midst of the weeds at the bottom. He smiled as wide as his mouth would allow the moment before his lungs accepted the water. When the protagonist screamed, no one could have noticed any change in the surface of the water just as no one could have noticed the grin spread across the robed figure’s face. But then he had been grinning throughout the entire conversation.

Unnatural Beauty

Yeah, this is one of those blogs, so if I come across as preachy or prematurely enlightened with any of this, please overlook it and bear me no ill will. Of course the fact that Iam prematurely enlightened means that I’ll probably come across that way occasionally, but what can you do, eh?

Anyway, we’re often told to look to nature and appreciate all of the wondrous beauty therein. The mighty trees, the simple wind, the creatures that we see everyday and those we only notice when we stop and make a point to– all of that nonsense. I say it’s nonsense not because I disagree or anything, but just because there are enough people out there who will make a case for it and try to shame you into stopping to smell the roses as you go throughout your busy, technologically distracting day. There’s a place for all of those people, but I’m not among them.

I’m a hopeless romantic and a hardened cynic simultaneously, or at the very least in cycles. As I reject the romantic idealism of nature, I also find beauty in all of the ridiculous man-made objects I see around me. Or at least I do when I’m in the mood for it.

Recently when I was driving home at night, listening to music, and just looking at what was ahead of me, I found very little appeal in the darkness of nature. If I’d stopped and gotten out of my car to look straight up, I’m sure I would have found something spectacular in the sky above, but just driving as I was, I couldn’t really appreciate this. Instead, I appreciated the lights of the cities. From far away, almost any city is beautiful, I think.

If you’ve ever seen one of those pictures of the dark side of earth from space or looked down from the window seat of an airplane, you know what I’m talking about on a grand scale. Every little piece of light is indistinguishable and uniform, and the overall effect is something simple and beautiful. I mean truly, truly beautiful.

On a smaller scale, driving toward a town at night you get this same feeling. The world is dark, but here, here where there are people and human life, are these glorious bobbles of light.

As an added bonus in my particular situation, because of all of the dirt on my windshield, the light scattered when I went through the town and it was kind of like an undynamic fireworks show that continued as long as there was electricity around me. Lights from signs and a dirt on a windshield, simple and mundane, but when framed by the human mind, art of a fashion. Not the Sistine Chapel, but art of a fashion.

In most cases, the towns were a few hundred or thousand people, and I suppose the fact that they were still able to have such an effect makes them even more remarkable. But my hometown has about one hundred thousand people, not huge by any means, but sizeable, certainly. How glorious the lights were as I drove in on the highway overlooking that city. I was close enough to pick out individual buildings and such that I recognized, but it was best when I couldn’t and it was just the lights.

It’s Christmas, so that’s part of it, but in another way, that’s not part of it at all. See, there’s a building at the center of the town with a kind of conical tower on the top which is always decked out like a Christmas tree at this time of the year. It and other buildings, really the entire downtown, are decked out in Christmas lights and banners, and you know what season it is. On the highway heading east, the town and this building are on the left, but I found myself looking to the right more, to the old industrial complexes that run all along that side of town. And I found myself looking at one building complex in particular, I think it’s involved in oil refining. It is covered in lights year round, for safety purposes, airplanes flying in the area and the like. During the day I’m sure it isn’t much to look at. In fact, I know it isn’t. But at night? Oh God, at night it’s more beautiful than any Christmas decorations you’ll find anywhere.

Now, I feel this way partly out of my own aesthetic tastes. Simple and uniform is always more desirable to me than gaudy and complicated. And of course, it’s also easier for me to find something beautiful about an object whose purpose is something completely different than one whose purpose is just to be beautiful. But even with all things equal, there’s a beauty about an industrial complex lit up to protect it from planes (and vice versa), something that we constantly overlook.

We pay attention to Christmas lights and appreciate the unnatural splendor because we’re made to notice it by the season, but the unnatural splendor is everywhere and in almost everything touched by man or framed by human mind.

You can take this too far, as I often do. The bowling alley is just a place where people bowl and drink and play arcade games, nothing more. I don’t mean to suggest that it represents anything deeper or more philosophical than a (somewhat) enjoyable pastime.

But what do I see when I go there? I see an eternal struggle between good and evil, between the irresistible force and the immovable object. The bowling ball will knock over whatever it hits and the pins will always stand back up. In lane after lane after lane after lane this struggle is played out over and over again. It doesn’t matter what the score is or who’s throwing the ball, only that it happens. The collision, the mighty, wonderful collision.

This is another example of premature enlightenment but one that’s only possible because of technology being what it is in the modern era. Bowling existed before automated machines, but only with automation can bowling be what it is in the pseudo-philosophical way. As static and unchanging as it is, only with amateur bowlers does it take on its most dynamic form where throw to throw one has no idea what the results will be.

Plenty of people find something beautiful and wonderful about places untouched by humans. But even if it hasn’t been shaped or touched by human hand, it’s the human mind that decides nature is something worth appreciating. How much more so when the mind not only appreciates but designs?

I had a dream about Dakota Fanning last night

It was weird. Someone kidnapped her and took her to a nearly abandoned town in West Texas that had some hidden underground complex hiding her. It was kind of a mix of Silent Hill and Metal Gear Solid, I guess would be the best way to describe the reality of the dream.

I can’t really remember all of it, only that it employed some horror, some intrigue, some surprise allies (a big guy, mechanic, I think). In the end, there was some kind of confrontation and we found her and it was time to go home.

This is the end of the first half of my dream.

In the second half, I discovered that more time had passed while I was gone than I had actually experienced. In the meantime, aliens had conquered the earth and taken the humans that were still alive as servants. My home was occupied by a human servant who was worried because her master was coming home and some my friends (who I do not believe were with me before but somehow arrived without me finding anything odd about them being there) told me we should leave, so we started to. However, then one of the aliens came through the door (with a poodle) and the human servant rushed over to take care of it. My friends and I were hidden, but I wasn’t hidden very well, and the alien spotted me, so I rushed over to it, grabbed it around the neck and slit its throat.

These aliens were milky white and their insides were kind of a milky white goo, but apparently you had to kill them by getting the cognitive portion of their bodies in one section, then cut it off from the rest. What I had done would disable it, but it would survive. So we still needed to flee.

We all got in our various cars and trucks and such and drove away. I was riding on the back of motorcycle along with two other people, and we were being pursued by human lackeys in traditional cars. Typical hollywood carchase through a nearby neighborhood followed. I bailed out when it was clear I was slowing down the motorcycle and preventing them from escaping.

I had been looking for my lost love, wondering if she had survived the worldwide holocaust and what had become of her. I wandered around for a bit, when I saw a band of humans in between some buildings and I ran over to them.

Of course she was with them, and I found her and hugged her and told her I was happy just to know she was alive. She expressed similar sentiments while I held her.

Suddenly, a machine appeared behind us, knocking a building out of the way and pointed something in the direction of band who all began to run except for the two of us. I asked her what it was and she said it was a weapon.

“It erases you from the past, present, and future,” she said, “It makes it so that you never existed. This is what they used on the people who fought back when they took over the earth, but no one can remember who they killed.”

As she said this, in my head I imagined the fabric of reality (green, the fabric of reality looks green) being melted and holes appearing in it like a roll of film. And across every frame holes were burned into each spot covering someone’s body, as I imagined it, my body.

Then I looked at her and back at the beam and it washed over us.

Then I woke up.

Words of an Archangel

BodyI didn’t write this, but hey, I’m an unoriginal man and have no problems using this for my own purposes. A good read, written on a forum by the son of a Korean and German Jesuit.

“I do appreciate the mythology of reason, but like all philosophers he is long winded and believes philosophy and poetry to be the epitome of humanity. It’s funny you don’t really hear this in the 21st century, I wonder why.”

Because the level of knowledge has gone up, while the level of genius has gone sharply down.

Actually, it’s not even true knowledge that has prospered. It’s raw data that has been accumulated, and our arrogance regarding it; the common man is still dumb as shit, but because of the achievements of a few, and the fact that we have elevated the worship of knowledge to the detriment of everything else, he somehow believes himself to be superior to those who came before. Thing is, people who don’t know what Saturn V was fueled with deem themselves greater than Nietzsche or Descartes because “we went to the moon”.

Thing is, if I look at Germany during romanticism and, say, Oklahoma or Iran (or Germany, for that matter) in the 21st century, I get the idea that they’re catastrophically wrong.

Genius has no place in our society anymore. Any original thought is jeered out of the lecture halls, and anything not regarding pure empirical pragmatism is considered unnecessary. Ironically, Hölderlin described that very thing even back then:

The Applause of Men

Is not sacred my heart, filled with greater life,
Since I love? Why did you hold me in higher esteem,
When I was prouder and wilder,
Fuller of words, yet emptier?

Alas! The mob only loves that which is good for the market,
And the servant honours but the violent;
The divine is only believed in
By those who are divine themselves.

(translation: my own. It sucks, but it’s still better than most of what I found on the web – also, for all their purported differences, Goethe wrote the same thing)

And today, we’ve reached the culmination of that trend: anything that has to do with the market is worshipped, whereas the divine is ridiculed and denigrated. Some may think it makes us smarter; I think it makes us infinitely poorer. And while feeling superior to bygone epochs is a trait common in most modern western societies (it started with the Renaissance), we have taken it to a whole new level – everything older than 20 years is utterly benighted. Just desserts, then, that we’ll suffer the same fate by 2026.

We have reduced man to one facet of his existence and neglected the other, going as far as to deny its necessity, even its existence. Another German romantic, Novalis, formulated it thus:

When numbers and figures no longer
Are the keys to all creatures,
When those who sing or kiss
Have deeper knowledge than the learned scholars,
When the world returns to free life
And at the same time into itself,
When then, light and shadow
Reunite again to form true clarity[…]
(yeah, yeah, I know, my translation is bad…)

Pretty much every philosophy from Laotse to Aristotle acknowledges some form of duality. Yet we think only of the light, the yin.

Well, at least it rhymes

I ate her as she disappeared
I ate her as she cried
I ate her as she wept red tears
I ate her as they dried

It’s morning now, the churchbells ring. They sound like churchbells ought. The church attends to folk so poor, their souls are all they’ve brought. But these are what’s desired most, these souls that need be cleansed. Wash fresh the sins of naked flesh, the sins of naked men.

Too quick she left and took my fun
Took quick she ran home sobbing
But home at last is where she rests
While I’m alone, yet throbbing

You don’t quite seem to understand the service churches render. They remind us that we’re more than beasts, give reason to be tender. The laws of man are easy broke, man’s justice easier still. But the laws of God are absolute, and find us, good or ill.

Little girl, little girl, don’t lie to me
Don’t lie and spread your fibs
Was snake, not God, who made mankind
Eve’s children, Adam’s ribs

Salvation, then, is rarely found, in nature or in heaven, but here on earth it’s all around, all week, all day, each second. Salvation comes from Christ above, Christ the true Messiah. Christ alone can save weak souls, and rapture the pariah.

Too late, too late to change your ways
Too late to even try
Too late you fin’ly realize
To whom you owe your eye

The earth would be better off without human beings

However, no one would be around to appreciate this fact.

PETA and Greenpeace are entitled to their opinions, but if you’ve ever tried to ask one, you’ll find animals rarely have much of an opinion on environmental degradation or extinction, much less abstract moral and ethical behavior.

Maybe those activists ought to be arguing that biodiversity and long-term, sustainable natural resources are in the best interests of the human race instead of a burdensome responsibility for the sake of organisms with no real ability to appreciate our efforts, eh?

Fire alarm, round five (or six?)

Okay, so last night the fire alarm goes off again. Just like before, I and most people expect nothing to be truly wrong and I’m sure to dress warmly, expecting another half hour out in the cold while the police and RAs took their sweet time to turn it off and let everyone back in. However, this time I discovered that that was not the case.

Apparently someone on the second floor used their lighter to set off the sprinklers, which in turn set off the fire alarm. However, on the second floor, so much water came out that the hallways and a lot of the rooms were flooded. I am on the first floor, and some of those rooms were damaged too, however mine escaped this fate. Not that I knew this for some time.

So it’s about 3:30 am and we’re told to go to the other dorms for a while, find a friend’s place to go stay at, or just sit in one of the various lounges. I tailed one of my friends and just went with him because he’s on the baseball team and knows more people than I do. Another baseball player with him remembered that one of their friends lives on the third floor and we all went up there to see if we could stay and watch television. We weren’t sure we were at the right place, so the other friend called to confirm it was the right room, but neither of the occupants were actually there. Luckily, the room was still unlocked. Unfortunately, nothing was on cable television and the room smelled awful with rotting junkfood and sodas everywhere. After ten or fifteen minutes of watching ESPN and some minor presentation ceremony for college football awards, we went over to the lounge and hung out watching the firetrucks out the window.

Why did they send in firetrucks to take care of a flood? I don’t know.

We talked about yo-yos, pogs, how we never understood the rules of pogs despite having some. Classes. We were very bored and had nothing at all to do.

FInally the firetrucks started pulling away so the three of us left the lounge and went downstairs to see if we could get back in our rooms for the night and get a few more hours of sleep.

However, when we got back downstairs and outside, the RAs told us that no one could go back to our rooms. Our options were to either go back to the other dorms and try to stay with a friend, or we could go to the old dorms everyone moved out of at the beginning of the year. This is where I had started, coincidentally. It’s not bad, but 40 years old is 40 years old.

Anyway, that was the selection we made and the three of us drove over there in the other friend’s truck because by now, it had started sleeting. Good times.

We got over there and and my friend and I went over to the television room (big screen, reasonably nice) and someone was watching HBO. The movie on was Internal Affairs with Richard Gere and Andy Garcia, although I needed the use of imdb.com to figure that out. Not a very interesting movie, at least not when you only catch the tail end of it. Friend’s friend decided to try to sleep, but of course he had to do it on mattresses with just a mattress cover, no sheets or pillows. Needless to say, this did not work out for him.

After a while (4:30 I guess) the RAs said they could temporarily let people back into their rooms to get a few necessities. One of the guys had gothis Xbox 360. We played Call of Duty III until about 7:30 and then everyone had to go take their first final or just went to breakfast.

I won 3 out of the five matches with my friend as the allies. Which made me feel good because I’ve never played the 360 before.

By nine am the first and third floors were allowed back in.

Good times, good times.

Which of these magical objects would you take?

A – a notebook full of blank paper. Whatever you need to turn in in a printed format, you will find it inside this notebook. If you’re in school, it will do your homework, if you need essays, this will write them properly formatted, if you have a white collar or newspaper job, this will have them ready for you as soon as you need them. The catch: the overall quality is only as great as if you’d done it yourself so all it really does is save you the time of doing it yourself. However, you’ll never be accused of cheating.

B – a car that will transport you anywhere you need to go. All you need to do is think of a place, and the car will take you there in five minutes. The catch: you will arrive at your destination five minutes later than you honestly intend. That is, if you plan to go somewhere at 7:45 because you really want to be there at 7:50 or 8:00, you’ll still get there at 7:55 or 8:05

C – a pen that writes the modern equivalent of Shakespeare or Joyce or Voltaire. Basically, you will almost universally be considered a genius. The catch: once the ink runs out, the pen is worthless.

D – a wallet with an infinite amount of money in it. The catch: it’s all in one dollar bills and people will naturally grow suspicious if you spend too much of it.

Yes, this is open to responses and your own explanations. Might try sending this out as a bulletin, but I don’t have much luck there either. So you are encouraged to respond here and feed my curiosity.

I, of course, would take the notebook because I consider myself of a competent writer, but have absolutely no motivation or consistency. Plus, wouldn’t school or any kind of white collar job become ridiculously easy?

Something that’s been keeping me up lately.

Well, caffeine and stress have been keeping me up. But if those weren’t already doing it, this probably would:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/myriorama/314547906/

Brain fungus. For ants and small insects in the case of this video, but you know there are several types that already exist for humans and I can’t help but think research scientists are hard at work around the world trying to modify existing fungi for military applications.

This about that for a second and try not to let your head explode.

Of course if it does, it’s probably already too late for the rest of us.

(There’s also this, but it’s more cool than anything:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EWB_COSUXMw)

Revised bulletin: When a girl bumps into your arm

I got this from a bulletin someone sent, and it was the standard fare. Little bit of superstition, little bit of immature romance, wit nonexistent. The wit is still lacking quite a bit, but I will contend that is many times more accurate than the original version.

Girl facts

When a girl bumps into your arm
while walking she wants
you to hold her hand
because she’s a crazy emotional bitch

When she wants a hug
she will just stand there
because she’s a crazy emotional bitch

When u break a girls heart,
she still feels it when
u run into each other 3 years later
because she’s a crazy emotional bitch

When a girl is quiet,
millions of things are running through her
mind.
because she’s a crazy emotional bitch

When a girl is not arguing,
she is thinking of something you did three years ago.
because she’s a crazy emotional bitch

When a girl looks at you with eyes full of
questions,
she is wondering how long you will be
around.
because she’s a crazy emotional bitch

When a girl answers, “I’m fine, ” after a
few seconds,
she is not at all fine.
because she’s a crazy emotional bitch

When a girl stares at you,
she is wondering how to trap you in an unnecessary relationship
because she’s a crazy emotional bitch

When a girl lays her head on your chest,
she is wishing for you to be hers forever.
because she’s a crazy emotional bitch

When a girl says, “I miss you, “
she’s fucking someone else
because she’s a crazy emotional bitch

When a girl is mean to you after a breakup
she wants you back, but she’s
scared she’ll get hurt and knows
you’re gone forever
because she’s a crazy emotional bitch


Guy Facts:

When a guy calls you,
he wants to fuck you.

When a guy is quiet,
he wants to fuck you.

When a guy is not arguing,
he wants to fuck you.

When a guy says, “I’m fine, ” after a few
minutes,
he wants to fuck you.

When a guy stares at you,
he wants to fuck you.

When you’re laying your head on a guy’s
chest,
he wants to fuck you.

When a guy calls you everyday,
he wants to fuck you.

When a (good) guy tells you he loves you,
he wants to fuck you.

When a guy says he can’t live without you,
he wants to fuck you.

When a guy says, “I miss you, “
he wants to fuck you.



repost this in 10 minutes and your true
love will
call you

post this as

IF YOUR A GUY “When a guy calls you…”

AND

IF YOUR A GIRL POST IT AS “When a girl bumps into your arm

Also, I bloody well know I didn’t follow the instructions, but I find it funny this way anyhow.

I could attempt some kind of serious explanation about the biological, evolutionary, and sociological explanations for why women are generally more romantic and men more carnal, but none of you care. And besides, I want to fuck something.