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Saturday, December 3, 2016

I Have a Real Problem With Randomly Complimenting Strangers

I absolutely love complimenting strangers. I hardly even think about it. It's a natural response for me. I'm walking down the street, I see someone with a really cute hair cut, and I say, "Hi! I love your hair!" and they say, "Thanks a lot!" and then we say goodbye and go on to do whatever it is we were going to.

It's wonderful. It costs nothing. It makes someone feel nice. It feels nice to do it. No drawbacks whatsoever. Hooray!

But I've learned through experience, that this isn't the case when dealing with the internet.

1/10 of the time, this previous exchange will happen as stated above and is still great.

But 9 times out of ten, this is not what happens. Instead, one of two bad things usually result from deciding to compliment a random person on the internet.

The first thing is they try to lock you into a long conversation you want no part in. In meatspace, the exchange is incidental and brief. Which is pleasant. In cyberspace, there is no walking away. The messages start pouring in. You feel bad for not responding. When you do, it only perpetuates the conversation. If you try to end it, they laugh it off as a joke, or guilt you into continuing. If I had a dollar for every time a girl has said, "Why do you keep trying to run away?"...

And yes, it is mostly the opposite sex I'm talking about in a gender normative way and from a male perspective. (I never really think about gender at all or belonging to one, but I have a beard and a penis.) I'm mainly referring to the bulk of my personal experiences. Dudes either don't respond, or insult you.

But why should I feel bad for only wanting to say a nice sentence or two to somebody and nothing more? I want nothing from you. Just to say, "Hi that's a cute outfit." or something. No late-night creepy messages 2 weeks later bc you interacted with me one time. No begging for pics. No asking for phone numbers or to skype, And don't offer. That's not what I'm after.

I just like saying nice things to people. Stop making it weird.

The other bad thing that happens, is they think you're a creeper. This one is so much more forgivable than the first because guys are totally shit on the internet. They creep. They stalk. They threaten and insult. I get it. But still, it sucks to have someone think you're a creeper when you're just being nice. I understand where that comes from at least. And I never get mad or send additional messages.

Even I know I can't disregard reality that much.

Still, it's saddening.

I don't know. I guess I've always felt more comfortable around women than around men. I'm a turbulent ball of emotion. Women tend to get that. Guys usually make me feel shitty so I mostly avoid them.

Although ever since puberty, everything has gotten very stupid. When I used to have a nice conversation with someone and it was just a nice conversation. Now when I have a nice conversation with someone, it apparently means I want to fuck them.

And I'm learning about how cyberspace and meatspace are only isometrically similar in aesthetics. The actual mechanics are a different story.

I don't understand social things, but I found something that works for me. Only, it doesn't work on the interwebs.

I don't want to be forced to suppress my harmless desires, but at the same time, I'm causing problems somehow.

And this is only the tinniest part of the confusing everyday nonsense I have to deal with. I could just give up and do what everyone else does. But that's not for me.

I'm trying. I just DON'T UNDERSTAND.

Saturday, October 22, 2016

Click Bait Part 2 or The Death of Choice

Looking at the previously included videos, you might have noticed a few strange things.

First, that they're all pretty much the same show.
(I used gaming shows since that's what I'm most familiar with)
Second, the titles are click-baitey as fuck.

The thumbnails are also over-the top, controversial, and meant to draw you in.

And when you look over at the suggested video list, nearly every video on there is from the same channel you are currently watching.

It's the last point I want to focus on, because it can't be cheap to make that happen. Normally there are a variety of choices on that list of videos. Yet, when it comes to these channels (which are, more often than not owned by large television companies and like fucking Viacom and shit) most of, if not all of the suggested videos are of a single channel.

That requires money. Lots of it. Large, faceless companies are putting up big bucks and are expecting a substantial return on their investment.

This is destroying the whole purpose of online video sharing platforms in the first place.

With this type of competition, random everyday weirdos don't stand a chance. Not to mention the flood of advertising these fucks brought with them. I watched the change happen in real-time over the course of a year or so.

I used to love binge-watching dumb shit on Youtube. One of the main reasons I loved it was lack of commercials. Ads on Youtube where a rare and slight annoyance. I could watch charming, no-budget nonsense all day and only come across 5 or 6 ads that entire time. 5 OR 6 ADS FOR THE DAY.

Now I'll come across 5 or 6 ads during the course of one 15 minute video showing the other endings of a game I just finished.

But that's not the point here. I usually just scream at the top of my lungs until the ad goes away. Problem solved.

The point I'm trying to make is that the monetization of Youtube brought these people here. They rode a pale horse. It's name was Death, and ads followed in its wake.

Now the amount of agency a user feels while online has virtually vanished. It's a fucking battlefield. We have to fight everyday just to view the content we actually want to see.

It's bad enough that these channels dominate the suggested list, but once you understand the isomorphic connection to the retweet phenomenon, the implications of such a system, is terrifying.

Twitter And Youtube Sociological Conjecture or The Death of Choice

Recently a study was done on the science of retweets. It found that if a tweet isn't retweeted within about 15 minutes, its chances of being retweeted are almost nil.

Now this actually makes sense when you consider the vast amounts of tweets being posted by people every minute of every day and the fact that each individual user will only be able to view the tiniest fraction of the total tweets being posted to the database.

When something is retweeted, its probability of being seen essentially doubles. Now there are two separate conduits in which people may see the the tweet and decide to retweet it themselves, increasing the availability of the original tweet.

With every retweet, the probability of it being seen and tetweeted again rises exponentially.

The content of the tweet isn't a deciding factor, nor even the user who posted it. The true deciding factor is time. If a tweet isn't retweeted quickly, it generally tends to fall to the wayside, forgotten by time and the community at large.

Having more followers increases the chance of posts being shared, but the deciding factor is always on whether or not it was retweeted in a timely manner.

Good, So we're all on the same page now. The tweets that get shared the most are the tweets that were shared the most. Good. Wonderful. Fantastic. Moving on.

Another socially-based web service is Youtube, and it basically functions the same way. Only this time, with the augmentation of an algorithm.

"Suggested videos" are the Youtube equivalent to retweets. Most users tend to prefer clicking on one of those as opposed to searching for something on their own. Chances are high that the videos presented to you are related to whatever you just watched, or what you've already watched a lot of. Besides, come on, who's going to opt to type in a bunch of shit into a search bar when there's a video you'd watch right there, just a click away?

Most people tend to click on of the suggested videos, only searching for something if they're looking for something specific, or the suggested videos are all garbage.

Here is where things get fun. Back in the day, Youtube would suggest videos solely based on content and how often individual users watched both videos.

But of course, money always have a way of fucking up these nice services. Forever warping their innocent natures into greedy, bloodthirsty scams.

Once it became painfully obvious to companies that kids were choosing to binge Youtube videos instead of cable tv, and that channels had fanbases in the millions, they realized there was money to be made and they needed a piece of the action.

This was the point when new channels started popping up rapidly. Professional channels. Channels with obvious financial backing, an entire crew to work with, high production value, and sub-par content. Often it was content similar to what was already popular, but obviously made by a passionless team. They were attempting to rip-off pre-established content as a cash grab. Only, they aped the wrong parts of these shows.

They didn't know why people were interested in the original content. They made shows that were functionally similar and almost interesting. It was clear these creators didn't understand or care about the content they were pushing. Completely unlike the passion-driven channels that paved the way before them with their honest love for video games, horror, movies, or scientific speculation.

Well-made shows were popping up everyday rehashing topics already beaten to death... and they weren't getting the ratings they expected.

Since then, most of these shows hired people who actually did know and care what they were talking about, with mediocre results. The rest were pretty much relegated to click-bait list shows.

Like this one. Or this shit. Or this one that I don't really hate. I should. But honestly it's probably one of the best cash-grab channels to come out at this time. Or this rote garbage Or this complete waste of everything

I'm sure you clicked on at least one of them.

What did you notice?

Continued in Part 2

Sunday, October 9, 2016


First we begin with axiomatic. Reality being self-evident is pretty well... axiomatic. We dwell upon  Earth, a shitball in the middle of nowhere. The world around you is a fact, knowable as far as any fact. Yet, it is a system. Like a mathematical system, bound by a few simple axioms. We've come to know these as the laws of nature. Things like gravity, the laws of thermodynamics, inertia, momentum, blah blah blah. You know this. And it is by these simple rules that complex forms emerge. Forms such as you yourself

A great example of the phenomenon of simple laws creating complex systems is computer program called The Game of Life.

To break it down even further, all matter is composed of a simple list of substances. They are the elements of the periodic table. Beneath that, a small number of particles. And even lower, a handful of sub-atomic particles that by their interactions create all of existence.

Expressions should be a simple one at this point. It is simply the execution of such a system.

So, Axiomatic expressions are therefor reality in motion. The combination of this sytem of rules in an active state. The self-evidence of the happening around and within us. Double definition, same meaning.

Temporary autonomous understanding is a bit trickier. An impermanent, individual, perspective. Well, wait. Is that actually trickier? What is a short-lived, singular, viewpoint?...

Yourself, of course!

But I chose temporary autonomous understanding for a very specific reason. It is more of a puzzle phrase than the others. "Understanding" most of all.

Firstly, temporary not only refers to our insignificant time on this Earth, but also of the transitive nature of our minds. ie; we change them. With a new influx of ideas, we can rapidly switch of viewpoints at will. Not only are we physically temporary, but so also is our understanding.

Autonomous should be axiomatic at this point. If I'm referring to ourselves and our minds, then obviously I'm speaking of our individual nature. We are forever separated from each other by a slight, yet insurmountable distance. We can never truly understand each other. In fact, it's doubtful any communication at all is even possible. Still, we can't help but try.

There is absolutely no way of honestly knowing whether or not we both see, hear, feel, or experience anything in a similar fashion. We guess. We try, We hope.

The tree I see will always be different from the tree you see. If, at the least, you are standing in a different place, or the same place at a different time. No conditions can ever be recreated exactly. That exact moment was mine alone, and will never come to pass the same way again, if just for the fact that I cannot experience the same thing for the first time again.

So we are autonomous. We are temporary. We understand. And we have understanding.

Now to combine those 2(?) thoughts. Ready for this one? The axiomatic expressions of temporary autonomous understanding can also be defined as... Life.

Well, as far as we, as sentient mortals, are concerned.

But that isn't all. We've only decoded half of our original phrase.

You might want to take a break now and come back later. I know, it's a lot to take in. If only what flashes through my mind like lightning could be explained just as quickly. (or as easily. My hands are starting to cramp up.)

Okay. Did you grab a drink? Possibly a snack? Drain your bladder? Have a smoke? Because now begins part 2. Buckle up.

Qabalistic. Now this is a tough one. An entirely separate piece (attempting to) define this word would (and already has) need its own essay.

For our purposes, I will not even attempt to give anything but the weakest, smallest, most tenuous of definitions. This is a subject many have devoted their entire lives trying to understand. Its origins date back thousands of years. I will not do it justice. If you want to study qaballah, then go lose yourself for a few days in research. You will hardly scratch the surface. 

The definition I will give it now is "of a system for classifying and organizing complex ideas and concepts." "A language fitted to describe certain classes of phenomena."

Okay, Now that the Thelemites and followers of the Golden Dawn are prepared to hunt me down and brutally murder me for that... let's get to the rest of it.

Cacophony. It's like a symphony of garbage. Remove all pleasure and order from music, and it becomes a cacophony. Imagine being in a room full of hundreds of screaming children, barking dogs, sirens, horns, and screeches. That's a cacophony.

So qabalistic cacophony. What's that?

Things happen to us, and within us, constantly. Every second of everyday we are bombarded by an endless barrage of feelings, sensations, memories, thoughts, distractions, stimuli, words, pictures, sounds, and so on. We are only consciously aware of but the tiniest fraction of what is going on at any point in time.

How many cars did you pass on your way to work today? What models were they? What color?

You don't know, do you? It's superfluous and difficult. Don't worry about it. We are assailed by way to much sensory information to keep track of everything that occurs withing our field of perception. Perception itself is limited by the perception moment. A time lasting one tenth of a second. Anything occurring in a time frame shorter than the perception moment is not even perceived. Life is but a series of frames glued together with imagination. But that is a story for another day. 

On top of all that is happening to us from outside, is all that is occurring within us at all times. Our consciousness is a tangled mess of unintelligible flotsam being broadcast at (literally) the speed of light. Again, we are barely aware of even the slightest bit of what occurs within our own minds. How we function at all is a miracle to me.

Media has popularly depicted inner thoughts to be linear and directed for as long as entertainment existed. Books were notorious for having characters sitting and thinking about things in an unbelievably purposeful fashion. This, as we are all thinking creatures, is complete fucking horseshit.

No one really thinks in such a way.

It wasn't until James Joyce penned Ulysses that the world finally got a (slightly) more accurate glimpse of characters who think more realistically. Characters often when from thinking about the current situation, to thinking about what they ate for breakfast, or when they last clipped their nails, or what the final song from a certain play was. Completely oblivious to how they ended up at that specific thought.


Not for one moments do they let up. Even in sleep, they're toiling away, creating their own warped fantasies.

There is a nonstop flood of shit running through our brains from the moment we first begin to think, to the day we die. And guess what? It ain't fucking logical.

Certain odors will triggers bizarre long-forgotten memories. Certain songs drag us back to 10 years ago to when we first made out with that hottie with the cute butt. It makes no goddamn sense. It's chaos. It's a fucking CACOPHONY.

Okay then...

This insane cacophony when named and ordered through our complex internal filing system of concepts is only half of this thought. Pause this, and let's go to the final half of the final half. Easy at this point. One might even say, "axiomatic."

Constipated. And. Concentration.

Constipated. Easy. Shit withheld. Unable to pass. Blocked up. Shit like this endless streaming CACOPHONY mentioned above.

And what's doing the constipating, and is also constipated?


By focusing on what's prevalent at the moment, we are not only able to maintain a single thought, but we are kept from going totally batshit insane. (A lot of shit in this story. Horse, bull, human, now bat. What next? Cat?)

If we were to entertain every thought and notion that popped into our heads, our minds would deteriorate like we had some crazy catshit sniffing addiction.

By only releasing and acknowledging specific thoughts, we can stay grounded in this semi-real hopefully probably not a mirage or a holographic matrix designed to keep us prisoners as our biological energy is harvested and our minds are used like lab rats in cruel thought experiments world where we probably exist, and can communicate somewhat agreeable states of the world.

This is essential for society to function.

Thusly, all the excess thought never leaves our minds. Is never spoken aloud. Is never passed like a fat cow turd.

NOW we get to combine the two final final halves or whatever.

Qabalistic cacophony of constipated concentration.


Sane sentience.

It's not enough to just say, "thought" or "consciousness."

It's a FUNCTIONING consciousness.


Axiomatic expressions of temporary autonomous understanding of the qabalistic cacophony of constipated concentration is....

Functional sentient life.

Or at least as we know it. It's what we all go through. It's something we take for granted. Since our inception, and until our death, we have it. We experience it. Sometimes it seems like it will never end, or it's boring, or it's over. But you are simply looking at it incorrectly. When seen in a new light, or phrased differently, it becomes an entirely new thing.

It's strange. It's all we have; and we barely have it. It comes once and is gone forever.

If you rely on the familiar for too long, it becomes unimportant and lackluster. Sometimes all it takes to see your life differently, is to use a few different words.

Onerous Experiments In Phraseology

Axiomatic expressions of temporary autonomous understanding of qabalistic cacophony of constipated concentration. Or Axiomatically expressing temporary autonomous understanding of a qabalistic cacophony of constipated concentration. Or qabalistic cacophony of constipated concentration tinctured by axiomatic expressions of temporary autonomous understanding. Or Brief ontological perspectivity by extrusive unmelodious dissonance. Or Instancial comprehension of independant theoremhood through an extrusionarily uproarious pandemonium. Or Discordial polyphony in stultified absorption by restrictive instantaneous perspectivity. A bedlam of clamorous miscellany metastasized defectively by yarely instruments.

How is it matter? Fluctuations or rhyme, meter, and exactitude of meaning. (Not to begin to even incorporate strange loops or mirrored reality... vessels filled with water reflecting darkened images of each other and the universe itself...)

What is this exactly when shredded open and examined?

:  taken for granted :  self-evident <an axiomatic truth>
:  based on or involving an axiom or system of axioms <axiomatic set theory>

a :  an act, process, or instance of representing in a medium (as words) :  utterance <freedom of expression>
b (1) :  something that manifests, embodies, or symbolizes something else <this gift is an expression of my admiration for you> (2) :  a significant word or phrase (3) :  a mathematical or logical symbol or a meaningful combination of symbols (4) :  the detectable effect of a gene; also :  expressivity 1
a :  a mode, means, or use of significant representation or symbolism; especially :  felicitous or vivid indication or depiction of mood or sentiment <read the poem with expression>
b (1) :  the quality or fact of being expressive (2) :  facial aspect or vocal intonation as indicative of feeling
:  an act or product of pressing out

1 is bullshit. A definition containing the word to be defined is redundant and shall not be included here. 
a :  having the right or power of self-government

b :  undertaken or carried on without outside control :  self-contained <an autonomous school system>
a :  existing or capable of existing independently <an autonomous zooid>
b :  responding, reacting, or developing independently of the whole <an autonomous growth>
:  controlled by the autonomic nervous system

:  a mental grasp :  comprehension
a :  the power of comprehending; especially :  the capacity to apprehend general relations of particulars
b :  the power to make experience intelligible by applying concepts and categories
a :  friendly or harmonious relationship
b :  an agreement of opinion or feeling :  adjustment of differences
c :  a mutual agreement not formally entered into but in some degree binding on each side
:  explanation, interpretation
:  sympathy 3a

Qabalistic -
No definition in Merriam-Webster. See Aleister Crowley's appendix within 777 titled "What is Qabalah?"

:  harsh or discordant sound :  dissonance 2; specifically :  harshness in the sound of words or phrases These definitions are atrocious, but usable, for our purposes

:  abnormally delayed or infrequent passage of usually dry hardened feces
:  stultification
Again: awful

All three definitions are crimes severe enough to warrant the hanging of its writer. "Direction of attention to a single object" will have to do. Keeping my own concentration on the menial task of explaining what I already so clearly understand is trying enough. Look the rest up for yourself. Especially yarely. But I'm moving on now.

Better comprehension of these words and their multiple definitions should shed a bit of light on the above statements. I find it most important that when using words steeped in so much meaning, one must be aware of all different uses and definitions of the word. Each differing in literalcy, yet still functional. One sentence; many interpretations. All varied and unified simultaneously.

Exactitude of wording is a must. Like a puzzle, a good sentence can occupy the mind for hours. Constantly being reinvented and reconsidered, unfolding itself before the skilled mind in a flower of artistic excellence.

So is this write? Is this worthy of such a honor?


More likely not.

Yet, it is a step. Each step is important, even if the goal is not achieved thusly. The wielder is one step closer. And the reader is rewarded.

So, now we've come to it. What are the above phrases attempting to express?

Understand each word. Break it down. Combine slowly. Like other systems involving basic rules, the results of simple mechanics can be astounding.

Two meaning-rich words, when combined, rise by orders of magnitude. It's a magic practicable by any and all. Fascinating incantations with the ability to summon forth previously unforeseen concepts of intricate complexity.

Nothing and everything.

I will give you an hour or so to solve this. In the meantime, I will be writing the xplanation.

Friday, May 27, 2016

We Have Nothing But Fear Itself.

I used to believe a person could be both good AND strong, but the longer I live, the more it seems these forces are diametrically opposed. Either a person is good OR they are strong. If they are good, then they are not strong. And if they are strong, they are not good. What follows is that the strong abuse the good, and the good let them. In the end, everyone is miserable. But why is this so? I looked into it and found only despair.

First of all, are these "good" people actually even good? I used to wonder this back in elementary school when I saw kids getting bullied for no logical reason. At first, I felt bad for the victims. I tried to help them. I befriended them. It was only when I got to know them that I saw what piece of shit cowards they were. 

They weren't really good, they were just weak and afraid. It was their weakness in character, not their kindness that made them appear to be good. If you're only doing nice things because you're too scared to be an asshole, you're not fucking good. You're just a little dandy-ass bitch. These little fucks had no problem bossing around and humiliating kids lower than them in the social hierarchy. If they were more popular or stronger, they'd be doing the same shit as the bullies. After seeing enough of this, I lost all of that worthless pity for those spine-less pricks.

Then came the bullies. They were generally athletic and/or good looking. They wielded power either physical or social. They used that influence for enjoyment and more importantly, security.

Again, I got to know some of these people. I wanted to understand them, and what I found wasn't much different than the victims. Yet again, the main motivation was fear. They were afraid of not being liked, or not being strong enough. If they attacked others, they remained dominant. If they were dominant, no one would hurt them. It was pathetic. Tough demeanors hiding frightened little babies. They disgusted me.

In the end, it was all about fear. 2 sides of the same coin. Either they dealt with their fear using aggression or placidity. The differences between both kinds were barely distinguishable. It sickens me to this day to see these fear-raddled worms. 

I hate the idea that fear is mankind's chief motivator. Fear of death motivates us to live a full life, to do something important, to be remembered, and fear of others, of pain, makes us act shitty to each other along the way. So fuck you. All of you.

Wednesday, May 4, 2016

Music-Hating Town Inadvertently Creates New Form of DIY Event.

Money-loving, music-hating capital of the world, Asbury Parrk NJ, has recently banned local businesses from playing background music in their stores.

Despite its reputation as a hip, musical mecca, Asbury Park's chill, hipster attitude is actually a facade disguising its greedy totalitarian reality. Unless you are only playing pre-approved types of music and making the right people money, this town doesn't want any of your bullshit.

Background music isn't completely banned however. Businesses may play as much music as they like as long as they keep the volume below 65 decibels and they pay a fee upwards of $1500.00 a day. So if you're were looking to savor a fancy pasta dish at a candle-lit table over a bottle of wine with barely audible jazz music, you're shit out of luck.

The new ordinance has thusly forced ambiance aficionados to form a new underground scene. The $5 basement show is being replaced by events where you can bring your own food and eat it while listening to genuine, 100% real music played on somebody's phone through a crappy speaker. Punk houses don't know what to do with the sudden influx of new revenue from all of the middle-aged married couples seeking the refuge of a crusty basement in which to listen to Radiohead and Jack Johnson over salad and breadsticks.

"I'm thinking of buying a car. Maybe starting a 401k or something." says local resident Jake Healy in an interview yesterday. "It's cool, man. If these weirdos want to give me money, I'll take it."

A brand new DIY underground scene. Like always, bourne from the fascism of the greedy and powerful. This town has been dead for years, we're just fucking its corpse at this point. Expect organized police raids of these speakeateries to soon follow.

Thursday, April 21, 2016

Eaters of the Flame

I can feel the world moving. Beneath, above, around, and within. Knew unto new. An expression of futility and quixotic ignorance. Faces shrouded beneath shifting folds of time. Connections and lack thereof. Faces slack with inarticulate vacuity. Tumbling through the escapades of a shameless generation. Nothing real can last in this travelcade of set pieces, interchangeable roles, vast sands of desolation, stagnant, repugnant waters. Not of life, bereft of life-giving succor. Nothing floating nothing moving.

Media junkies. Addicts of a substance far more dangerous than that of chemical euphoria. Slug-like entities. Human shells, skulking darkened on rivers of black rock. Groping for a fix in every bar across this shit-hole excuse of a country. Desperate. Manipulating. Sheparding toward self-annihilation. Insatiable sensationalists. Whip-scarred backs scraping and crawling through an ocean of spent semen and lingerie. Burn marks permeate their ligaments, dulling their ever-fleeting tangenital grasp on holographic reality. Who among you can claim immunity to this vile sickness? Atrophication of the grey matter. Axions missing their mark. Spiraling nothingness iterating itself into existence. Hildegarde doth professed.

Wrinkled, mucus-trailing swarm. Drinking clear frothy nectar. Lapping fervently the tap of devoidal opulence.

Thursday, March 31, 2016


Logically, if intelligent life continues onward without an extinction event, there will inevitably be an end to history. The point at which every permutation of every given event has already occurred. Literally a moment when nothing is new, because nothing can be new. With infinity as our time frame, it is an unavoidable inevitability. Given, one far beyond a time we could ever conceive, and certainly one we will never live to see. Yet, that does nothing to deter the ineluctable truth of limited options in a limitless time frame.

Now this... this is a pretty bleak concept.

Imagine being born into a time in which it is literally impossible to do anything new. Feels pretty futile doesn't it? As if our lives didn't feel pointless enough, we've got this atom bomb of futility looming ever-present in our genetic future.

Once you come to terms with this fact, you knock down one of the massive barriers preventing happiness for both the people alive at that time, and for ourselves right now. By imagining this world, we can learn a bit more about life, its meaning (or lack thereof), and our innate desire for agency.

At least we can have the hope of doing something novel. It's something we dedicate our lives searching for or creating. But future people will be denied that at birth. No possibility of leaving their mark on history. All the history books have already been filled and shut.

On the other hand, does that necessarily void meaning in one's life?

How many times have you been in a situation that is as old as mankind itself? Ever been sweet on someone who didn't even realize you existed? Ever fought with the urge to spill your heart out to them for fear of rejection? Ever been stabbed in the back by a friend? Or cheated on by a lover? These things have happened in nearly identical ways since our earliest ancestors. It's part of the human condition, and it is timeless. Despite knowing you're involved in a situation that has been played out billions of times and billions of ways by billions of people, it doesn't remove the meaning that you feel from it, does it? You still feel like it matters, even if it only matters to you. You still feel a sense of agency even when the possibilities have previously been exhausted by others. Because they're not you. You are you. This is your experience on your path. It is yours alone.

Live your life. Fuck history.

Friday, February 19, 2016


Traditionally, humans were defined by gender, with women being indirectly defined as "unman."

Women fulfilled the role of "other." Whatever it meant to be a man, being a woman meant you were the opposite.

In recent years, these lines have blurred. What you were was no longer dependent upon the gender you were born with. One found meaning in oneself.

It was a new freedom for the individual. One could finally express whatever qualities one personally valued.

It was fine for a time, but global interconnectivity and access to media led to an overabundance of entertainment. We spent less time discovering what was in ourselves and more time discovering what was out there.

Epiphenomenally, we came to define ourselves by our interests and tastes in entertainment. Less by our personal values and philosophies.

Our sense of humor, attitude, and style pulled directly from the screen we shed our personal identities. Reality, now a construct of imagination distanced by a screen, no longer felt real.

If the camera didn't capture it, it might as well have not happened at all.

And what remains when our defining features are culled from without instead of within? Nihilistic movie-quoting sex fiends? Carbon copy media mugwumps? Hollow-hearted, dying to live, distractopheliacs overdosing in a futile effort to kill the pain? Hiding the only honest part of themselves behind a mask? Refusing to relate to others on any meaningful level? Denying the fact that each of us is hollow and lost within the black hole of ourselves?

Tuesday, February 2, 2016


Whenever someone is kind, generous, or helpful to me, my immediate reaction is WHAT ARE YOU AFTER, YOU MANIPULATING PIECE OF SHIT?! WHAT'S YOUR ENDGAME HERE?!




or whatever.

In other news, I've been trying to be more sociable lately.
And by sociable, I mean saying exactly what I need to say to get people to not want to talk to me anymore but not dislike me in any way.

It's going well.

Another large glob of protoplasmic jelly falls from his atrophied form and hits the floor with a loud smack. A faint sucking sound can be heard as the pressure equalizes at the rapid loss of glia and axons. Processes halted, stimuli undigested, aneurystic  insect eyes seeking sugar and light in a young boy's virgin cavities and burn cherry-red with pent up desires.