Humanity is a paradox

We all know the phrase “The only constant is change.”
And we as a species seem to be afraid of change.
Its always the old vs the young.
Every generation is angry at the next because of progress.
Jealous for being closer to transcendence.
Resentment for not being as close as their children to living forever.
Things are becoming better for our species than ever,
But we historically perceive things as becoming worse
Paper and pen will end the world.
The printing press is the end if the world.
The telegraph will be the end of the world.
The radio will be the end if the world.
The TV will be the end if the world.
The computer, the internet.
All the end of the world.
Humanity is a paradox.
Despite our best efforts, we still exist.
Progress is our best ally and worst enemy.
We don’t understand it and don’t want to.
We come up with ways to avoid understanding it.
Well, I embrace it. I want my motherfucking robot body.
Because I am lazy.
I haven’t done shit with this flesh and blood body.
I want immediate upgrades for money.
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Trying to write

Writing gives me anxiety. I feel like I have restless body syndrome. Except not in my legs because I am lazy. I love sitting. And I love laying in bed even more. I’ll lay for hours and peruse Hulu and Netflix. (Well, not Netflix currently: I had to temporarily suspend it because of cutbacks). Hulu Plus still fits in the budget. The original subscription, of course. I look forward to affording the commercial free version someday. You got to have goals otherwise you stagnate. I think I’ll schedule it as my new years resolution.

Ultimately, I should cancel all of my entertainment subscriptions. I have become a consumer more than a producer. A couch potato; a bump on a log. A concept I used to ridicule when I was a young and virile skateboarder with health insurance paid for by my parents. But of course that was long before the internet or owning my own laptop. Hell, this was back when mobile phones had green screens and I was confused by a text message. (Why would my phone be asking me what I wanted to eat for dinner?)

But I digress…writing gives me anxiety.

[Loads Hulu Plus]


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Chuck Norris’ Blue Period

I friend of mine invited me to check out this Chuck Norris Movie titled Silent Rage. He said he had a VHS copy of it and that if I didn’t act, I may miss out altogether because the likelihood of it being transferred to DVD was slim. What an endorsement! I asked him to summarize it. His response was that on a scale of 1 to 10 he would give it 9 roundhouse kicks to the face. This wasn’t because of its artistic perspective or anything. That scale just informs you of the condition your brain will be in after watching it. And since I am never one to pass on the opportunity to destroy some brain cells, I took the invitation. Besides, an evening with Chuck Norris rarely disappoints. Unless of course you are expecting Cinema Verite. (Don’t tell him I said that, I’ve seen what his beard can do).

Brain, meet Chuck Norris’ beard

On the day of viewing, we spent some time rounding up the necessary paraphernalia one needs when experiencing a movie of this caliber:

– 12 pack Natural Ice, check!

Bong, er, “waterpipe”,check!

-Snacks (mainly gummi in nature), check!

With all things accounted for, we pressed play, took a hit, and settled in.

Here is a quick plot summary: A Sheriff in a small midwest town is entrusted to hunt down a killer that has been re-animated post mortem by some doctors with a God complex. The killer can regenerate from wounds and for all intents and purposes, is “unstoppable”. Cue Chuck Norris…

From the synopsis above, you can most likely glean an understanding that this film was created primarily to insult the audience’s dignity and intelligence. The arc of the story played out in a fashion that is typical of movies of this fare. Beginning, Middle, 17-roundhouse-kicks-to-the-enemy’s-face-while-in-flames-invariably-sending-him-falling-to-his-death-down-a-well, and End. As expected, no pith in the subject matter.

Well, well, well…what a surprise…

Despite the film’s lack of compelling storytelling and integrity, It still managed to evoke a “What the Shit!” moment. A moment in which, we the audience, collectively freaked the eff out! A moment that, to this day, still unsure of its meaning, I get creeped out whenever I wake up in the middle of the night and think back to this particular scene my friends and I witnessed.

The scene itself is not too terribly discomforting. It consists of stock dialogue in the Chief-of-Police’s office, where Chuck Norris’ character attempts to persuade his superior that they need more firepower to combat the threat. Something stupid like that, I don’t quite remember because I was busy standing on the effing couch pointing at the TV!

Onscreen, in the Chief’s office, hanging on the wall was Picasso’s famous “The Old Guitarist”. It’s kinda creepy in its own right, but what got me was the fact that it was hanging on the wall in the living room where I was! Not only that, there was a tall houseplant situated right next to the painting in the corner of the room that was ALSO in the Chief’s office! The same effing plant! WTF!?

Suspect A

Suspect B






After we all freaked out for about the next 10 minutes, we took a breath (bong rips), and finished the movie. But all I could think about after that was the scene in The Ring when the drowned girl broke the fourth wall and exited the TV to take the lives of all in the room. 

My friend was right. Silent Rage starring Chuck Norris will leave you feeling like you received 9 roundhouse kicks to the face, indeed.


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Black Plastic Bags

When I was 18 I worked at video store. Yes, you heard that right, I said VIDEO store. Complete with VHS rewinding devices, late fees and teenage management. Also, we had free popcorn for the public! Yay! Free stuff! Now, as much as this salted-styrofoam confection got patrons to come in, most of it invariably ended up on the floor.  This prompted the hiring of a “Lead Concession Specialist”.  I assure you, every applicant did their darndest to pretend they knew what that was.

Today it’s “free popcorn”. Tomorrow it’s “socialism”.

This was long before the term “instant queue” entered our shared lexicon. You were at the mercy of the outside world as you traversed across town to rent your next video odyssey. This was the “buffering” of the analog era. You had to leave your house and drive to another building and back before enjoying the contents of the precious magnetized tape housed within its slate black casing. And God forbid if that pimple-faced kid behind the counter forgot to use that store mandated rewinder!

What part of “Be Kind, Rewind” do you not understand!?

Another benefit of our video chain was a drop box in the parking lot. This was great for our customer base but it primarily afforded  men with trenchcoats and floppy hats a way to covertly return their recent installment of Battlestar Orgasmica, Shaving Ryan’s Privates or both. Usually both.

Yep, that’s right.  We had an adult video section. The only one in town. Which, depending on who you asked, was something to be proud or ashamed of. Personally, I found it comedic that, in an attempt to minimize the shame, we provided black plastic bags to cover the smut until customers reached the counter. In reality the bags seemed to serve more like the “A” in The Scarlet Letter than a way to hide one’s video choice and I always savored the moments when neighbors, with starkly different evenings planned, would stand awkwardly in line.

Finally home!

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Smell The Whales!

I recently saw an article regarding a boy that discovered a mound of Whale Vomit that has been valued at an estimation of $60,000…

I’ll say that again: Whale Vomit?! $60,000!? …found?!

I started to think…

How did he know this was Whale Vomit? Why would he know it’s Whale Vomit? And what makes Whale Vomit so special to valued so high?! (By the way, Whale Vomit is now going to be the name of my new metal band).

As I read further I discovered that these “Bilious Deposits” (Album name), are used in the manufacturing of women’s make-up.

This is no surprise, as most are aware of the fact that we have used many other parts of whales to produce vanity products in the past. But the bumper sticker mindset of the 80’s and 90’s all but “put an end” to that vicious and inhumane industry *cough, (Right!)

As I was saying earlier, what is so special about Whale Vomit? What makes it better than Human Vomit? (punk band name?)

Why hasn’t the fashion industry used Human Vomit. It is undoubtedly prevalent.  What with all of the models purging after every meal. Heck, practically after every bottle of water! Is it too diluted, maybe? I’m not an expert. But I do know that most fashion industry types, including models, eventually set their sights on their own line of make-up and perfume fragrances. It seems like a logical combination. Each fragrance could be modeled after the lunch or dinner that they ate! There is some real potential here…

I can see the product names now! Starting with….

Purge, by Raaalph! Lauren

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Wine Country Chaos pt.1

The night started with a meetup at Yeti, a Nepalese restaurant in Glen Ellen CA. It was early evening and the setting was straight out of a Thomas Kinkade painting.  The food was amazing (and free**) and quashed all my prior doubts regarding delectable meals prepared by the Himalaya’s indigenous “Abominable Snow Chef”.

“The menu states an 18% percent gratuity with parties above 6 guests!”

After leaving Yeti with our lives and limbs intact, we then proceeded to downtown Sonoma CA to a bar titled Hopmonk. This immediately filled my head with images of a Hip-Hop Buddhist Chipmunk.  Unfortunately, to my chagrin, that was not the theme the restaurateur chose for the establishment. Instead, they decided to go with intimate lighting, great beer, a good crowd and live music. Not a bad combination by any means as it infused us with a good vibes and a persuaded us to spend money on a “slice” of chocolate cake so amazing that even a picture of a sea lion can’t resist. Seen here:

If this sea lion could talk it would say: “AR! AR!” But it can’t because it is just a photo.

Our next destination was any form of bar. It did not take long to find.  We proved our worth with the bouncer and proceeded inside.  My friend quickly discovered that the dj happened to be her UPS driver and went to over to him.  I went immediately to the bar for another beer.  I cannot sufficiently “back dat ass up” on any dancefloor without the proper dose of alcohol.

Beats so Fresh they require Overnight Delivery

As I stood drinking and waiting for my inhibitions to secede, a petite blonde girl boisterously introduced herself…and her boyfriend…and his friend.  I was surprised by their friendliness and later even more surprised and perplexed to find out that she asked my friend about my sexuality. I guess that is what I get for wearing a purple hoodie to a sports bar though.  It was some of the strangest 25 minutes I’ve experienced at a bar.

Stay tuned for Wine Country Chaos pt. 2!

**The dinner was paid for by my amazing friends and I owe them, please do not arrive at Yeti Restaurant expecting free Tikka Masala. Pay for it and enjoy…

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