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|Tuesday, November 9th, 2004|
|And another thing!
Apparently, John Kerry was a good enough soldier that he put his personal feelings aside to fight in the Vietnam War. And like a good American, he did not let any oppression silence him. In the eyes of the right, shouldn't this have made him the conservative values poster-child, and not a vote-mongering flip-flopper? Current Mood: confused
|Intelligent people are a vocal minority in the Christian community.
Anyone see the Advocate today? On the front page is a picture of a guy standing up, with some little girl -- I presume his daughter -- next to him, and that little girl is holding a sign which reads, "SODOMY IS NOT
A CIVIL RIGHT" -- their emphasis. The caption reads, "Alexandria H******, 8, holds up a sign during an anti-gay marriage rally at the Statehouse on March 16 in Providence, R.I." (I am not going to repeat the little girl's last name on LiveJournal, but the bastards in the Advocate wrote it, so you can find it there if you want to.) The first thing that came to mind is how much of an asshole this guy is, if he's really the kid's father.
Attention all intelligent Christians. I know you're out there. I've met some of you before. Please, speak up -- don't let your religion be represented by such assholes as that man!
And if that man isn't responsible, whoever wrote that sign is a jackass. Current Mood: pissed off
|Wednesday, November 3rd, 2004|
|Now that I've worked myself up to it, an update of my life.
Monday I went to an ENT about this pain in my left ear I've been having, accompanied by Mallorie (who has more patience than I ever will for how long she was in the waiting room). Got there ten minutes late, but fortunately the doctor was later. Turns out, the inside of my ear is slightly red, and I have white spots on my tonsils. I hope surgery won't be necessary; I don't like the idea of knives going under my flesh. Well, the doctor prescribed an antibacterial ear drop. Then Mallorie got to enjoy my driving -- in the same way a person can enjoy, say, bungee jumping. Then we hung out a bit, rocking out and playing with her insane kitten, and went our merry ways.
Then there is yesterday. Now, I live an hour's drive from the LSU campus, and the place I vote is thirty minutes more -- in the other direction. I'm doing last=minute research until 9:30 (I decided on Badnarik, Gorman, and -- his name is something like Falensarano, which is actually a place name in Morrowind
, but nevermind); and I then have to make a 30+ mile drive to Killian and back to vote, stopping on the way to fill up my gas tank and get my ear medicine prescription filled (which takes thirty more minutes). Speeding was a viable solution on the way to Killian, but by the time I was done voting, the rain got very heavy on the Interstate. In Baton Rouge, the rain had reduced visibility so much that I only saw the taillights and general outline of the vehicle directly in front of me -- who was a car length ahead of me. I didn't feel like going to classes that day. I mean, complex analysis was just review for the test tomorrow; and I only have to attend three more mini-lectures in communicating mathematics.
And I have to keep my head tilted so this damned medication stays in my ear. It is making my neck sore. Current Mood: by a sore neck
|Another good result.
So a god of evil is being worshipped by superheroes? Either I'm a pretty crappy god of evil, or I'm pretty crafty. Or the world is more fucked up than I thought.
And I'd so love to see what kind of LARPing superheroes do. Current Mood: amused
|And on a lighter note, the following.
See, this is why I'm not an atheist. There are gods; they just don't do jack shit.
By the way, love the title.
"Are you a god?"
"Ray, the next time someone asks if you're a god, say 'Yes'!"
And now, I can! ^^ Current Mood: pleased
|Congratulations, America. You've elected Dr. Strangelove.
Ladies and gentlemen, prepare for your rights to be slowly stripped away in the name of national security, because it looks like Dubya's gonna be the rootinist, tootinist President this side of the Sierra Madre for another four years.
Quoth the bowl of petunias, "Oh, no. Not again."
And I just love how the default emoticon for indifference is a smiley face. Current Mood: indifferent
|Saturday, October 30th, 2004|
|Didja miss me? ^^
At long last, Kyran is back. Sweetness.
This weekend will mostly be filled by me readying for party, and for to vote this 11/2. First, I have to familiarize myself with the ballot of where I live.
For example, there is apparently an issue regarding the legality of hunting and fishing (I shall know more after doing some basic research). Now, those who know me, and who know that I am vegetarian, might be surprised to hear that I am an ardent supporter of hunting and fishing. My reasoning is this: I acknowledge that it is unlikely for everyone in the world to give up eating meat; and seeing what I'm putting myself through for this issue, it would be highly unethical for me to ask others to do such. So, since animals are still going to die to feed people, I therefore would encourage people to take up hunting, and become very good shots, so that the animals at least don't have to suffer.
Also, I've decided I will be going to see Finding Neverland
whenever it's released in the States. The concept of carrying a bit of childish innocence into adulthood is something I've been reflecting on for a while. Current Mood: contemplative
|Thursday, October 28th, 2004|
|The day some pigs would fly.
Apparently the Red Sox have won the World Series. Now they can shut up about the Bambino's curse, and that makes me happy. Since all that crap's out of the way, here's to hoping they don't win it again for at least another 80-something years.
Also, Kyran's ready to be picked up. She probably blames me for putting her through this, given her preexisting distrust of me. I shall probably be getting her between complex analysis and communicating mathematics. I think I can make it to Florida and back within an hour-and-a-half window.
And I'm scheduled to see an ENT specialist Monday concerning my swimmer's ear.
And I just noticed something: the normal Yahoo! smiley, if highlighted, looks downright depressed. Current Mood: content
|Wednesday, October 27th, 2004|
|Tuesday, October 26th, 2004|
|Update on Operation: Streak-Free
This morning, I woke up, took a shower, and put on the muscle shirt and tan shorts, and went to eat breakfast. (By the way, I would like to add that muscle shirts do not look flattering on me.) After returning, I put on the plastic wrap, and was disappointed to see that my shoulder straps were still visible. So I went on a quest: to find more plastic wrap! But first, I had to get some things from my room, such as my robe.
I could tell the day would be interesting when I first walked into my room, wrapped up in plastic wrap, hoping my roommate wouldn't see me. Well, it would seem he had just woken up -- how wonderful! After a bit of chatter back and forth, I stepped into his line of sight.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
"Don't worry about it."
"What the fuck are you doing?!"
"It does not concern you."
"That's some sick shit, bro'."
"It's not sexual in any way!"
Now, onto my quest.
Something I noticed rather quickly was that the plastic wrap around my legs had effectively lowered my waist to near-knee height; walking was going to be a task. (And sure enough, it was quite a workout.) First, I tried the little grocery store in the Pentagon, and they sent me to Circle K, who also didn't have any plastic wrap. So I returned to my dorm to reformulate my plan. It must have been about eight by then.
I checked the look out in the mirror, and pulled the shoulder straps off my shoulders and down from my arms, so that the muscle shirt became a sort of elongated tube top (which would later refuse to stay put). I noticed then that the shirt could still be seen through the plastic wrap on my back, so I decided I would not take the robe completely off. I then marched off to Free Speech Alley and looked over notes for Topology I while awaiting the Fire & Brimstone Gang. A friend pointed out that being wrapped up as I was could be dangerous in hot weather, so I got myself four bottles of water from the Union Bookstore, and returned to my Topology.
A bit later, some friends of mine arrived, and we started talking. One of them noticed the sandwich boards coming from the direction of the Parade Grounds. Showtime.
I don't remember exactly what happened, but I do recall some key moments. Once, before I'd opened my robe, the first guy accused a fellow heckler of blasphemy. "Blasphemy? That's not blasphemy!" I shouted. "This is blasphemy: God, you suck!" as I flipped off the sky. "Suck this!" as I made a Michael Jackson-style crotch-grab. I'm proud of that.
A bit later the preacher started on the usual spiel: evolution is a fairy tale/lie, abortion is murder, and the obligatory ad hominem attack: You, sir, have a pierced tongue and nose! And you, sir, are a nudist! (Which set me up for what would become my grand finale, but more on that later.) He compared evolutionary theory to the assertion that buildings evolve, in spite of the fact that buildings don't have offspring. Someone said they found my choice of dress creepy (or disturbing or somesuch), and that made me happy. And a bit later I sang along to Disney songs. At one point, he even called me a hypocrite because I told him that early enough in gestation, a fetus is no more human than carrots or wheat, so that he's just as much a murderer as women who have abortions; he apparently didn't comprehend the significance of the fact that I don't care if I kill either a tomato or an early-term fetus. I don't mind being called a hypocrite, except when the accusation results from the accuser's ignorance/stupidity. I got into a side argument with some Christians in the audience, but fortunately Pipes came to save the day. And then, something terrible happened, something I had dreaded the possibility of: I had to pee. It was then about 11:30, and I had a half-hour before my first class.
I'm sure you'd rather not hear about my struggles with trying to find a way to empty my bladder without tearing the plastic wrap off, so let me just say this: there are times I'm very happy I'm not female. Not many times, mind you, but there are times.
By then, I had decided that I would not be wearing the plastic to class, as I had run enough of a risk of heat stroke already. So I lured the jackass into calling me a nudist again, and immediately started peeling off the plastic wrap to reveal -- lo and behold! -- I'd been wearing a muscle shirt and tan shorts all along! I think I really pissed him off there, because he asked the crowd if they actually enjoyed seeing someone like me mock (read: make an ass of) a messenger of Christ such as himself. As I took off all that damned plastic wrap, I was shouting back one-line remarks to his comments. For example, when he kept calling himself the messenger of Christ: "It's okay to shoot the messenger if he fucks up the message!" And when he talked about how he was the true messenger of God, sent to give us His Word, and our mockery of him was equivalent to blasphemy, and how we'd be sorry: "That's just a version of Pascal's Wager, and Pascal's Wager is an argument used by cowards." Which is how I feel about Pascal's Wager.
So I went and threw a bunch of plastic wrap away, then lost myself in the crowd as I walked over to my complex analysis class in Lockett. Current Mood: accomplished
|Monday, October 25th, 2004|
|Another depressing philosophical rant.
I was satisfied to leave my previous rant as the last (and only) rant of the day, but then I started reading other people's LiveJournals, and I stumbled upon the idea of soulmate, which made me think of why I hate the idea so.
Think about it. There are billions of people in the world. Let one of them be the ideal mate for you. Even if the person didn't die in childhood, imagine how hard it would be to find your needle of a perfect match -- not near-perfect, mind you, but perfect -- in this global haystack of people.
And the silliness of that metaphor so severely reduced its dramatic impact.
Now, look at someone like me, who has had such a major personality change that the group of people that particular someone would have been interested in before the change are on the opposite side of the philosophical, religious, and political spectra from the group of people that particular someone would be interested in now. Would that mean this someone's soulmate would have had to have a similar change at the exact same time? Well, too bad, because according to relativity, simultaneity depends on one's frame of reference. Thus, if there were people moving at several trillions of different speeds relative to earth, and you were to ask each of them who this someone's significant other would be, you would get more different answers than there would be viable options!
Unless my significant other exists in an alternate universe. And my understanding of the multiple world hypothesis is that according to it, interaction between entities in two different universes is impossible. Current Mood: depressed
|I defy any police to arrest me tomorrow on public lewdness charges.
It's official: psychoChristians are descending upon our fair campus tomorrow. Which means that my plans are going down tomorrow.
Join me, and let us help to overturn the foolish laws requiring clothes in public.
It occurs to me that I should elaborate on my plans, after the last comment I made. I'm not actually going to be nude; I'll just be wearing so much plastic wrap no one will be able to see that I'm wearing something under the wrap.
The stigmatization of the human body is an absurd practice for a society with such an advanced understanding of human psychology as ours; the bases for such a practice are, to my understanding, in direct conflict with modern science. The idea that exposing flesh leads to lustful thoughts is absurd; the practice of covering flesh which makes it exotic, and therefore desirable to such an absurd degree as we have in our culture. The key word here is 'desensitization': if people see naked bodies all the time, they won't go crazy over the form of the nude human.
In short, I'm saying this: it's the very prudishness of people like Jerry Falwell which makes our country so sex-crazed!
Now, I have nothing against sex -- it can be quite fun, from what I hear -- but people seem to forget that it's not the only pleasure. Current Mood: ready
|Sunday, October 24th, 2004|
|Friday, October 22nd, 2004|
|Ghost in the Shell: The stalking and rape of Makoto Kusanagi
I was thinking about the Ghost in the Shell
movie, and it occurred to me: if the Puppetmaster and the Major were real people, the Puppetmaster would be considered a stalker. Think about it: it's the Puppetmaster who first discovers Kusanagi's existence. For a few years after that, the Puppetmaster takes advantage of the power it wields to get closer to Kusanagi, without her being aware of it until the last few months of the entire ordeal. Then, in spite of the fact that she says she doesn't want to produce offspring with the Puppetmaster, it isolates her from the one person who could protect her, and then slowly persuades her to have offspring with him.
This has been brought to you by a shower session. I think of the most fucked up things in the shower. I love it! ^^ Current Mood: giddy
|What horrible place is this where I live?
I was packing up to go home for the weekend, when I heard a noise coming from the other room of the suite where I'm staying. At first, I couldn't identify it; but I soon felt a primal chill run through my spine as I recognized the sound to be one of those horrid corruptions of the guitar: a country music song.
Help me. Please.
Oh, and my computer will be fixed by next week. Hopefully, I'll have headphones by then, so I can rock out in blissful ignorance of the atrocities to music committed by my suitemates, without bothering those around me.
Lord Bowie, forgive them, for they know not what they do.
And for the record, Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure
is the only movie Keanu Reeves acted in that is insanely good. Okay, Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey
was pretty good, too.
The only reason the Matrix
movies were good was because instead of acting, Keanu Reeves just stood around looking cool. He's very good at doing that, at least. Current Mood: scared
|At the time I was a waitress in a cocktail bar . . .
Well, I know my deadline for knowing the stuff I'm supposed to learn this semester: January 10.
I really should resume brushing up on topology 1.
Oh, and my computer has a trojan, a bunch of spyware I don't really mind, and a couple bad capacitors on the motherboard. The trojan and spyware will cost $120 to get rid of. I checked in with my father, and he ok'd my using credit to pay for it.
*whines* I want Kyran (my computer) back!
I probably won't update again today before my test -- which is at 1:30.
Also, I really need to shower. Yesterday, I was in my truck, in hot weather, refusing to turn on air or roll down my window, and I wasn't wearing anti-perspirant, so my shirt is carrying a personal scent I'd rather not share with others.
And why am I telling all of you this? Current Mood: anxious
|So . . . Hungry. . .
Waa! Five and a half hours until the Pentagon Dining Unit opens!
Have I yet mentioned that breakfast is my favorite meal? Mm -- eggs. Mm -- grits. Mm -- hash browns. An ovo-vegetarian's power breakfast. Current Mood: hungry
|I'm a dead man, but I'm a happy man.
I just wasted the last three hours catching up on what I've missed in Megatokyo instead of studying real analysis. And sitting in one place for so long seems to have given me a wedgie.
Strip number 600 includes a reference to C. J. Cherryh's Downbelow Station
. My regard for Piro has gone up even more since I've discovered this. Current Mood: euphoric from sleep deprivatio