It's been a while since I've written anything, hasn't it? Perhaps it's because nothing interesting has happened to me at all. I've been a bit of a busy beaver lately, so there's been little time to think, let alone type, so- ...you know what? Fuck formalities -- you didn't come here to read about what I haven't had time to do :P Let's talk about shit that has happened... sorta kinda :P
I have been devoid of any interaction with my fancy (here the fucker goes again :P) and hence this blog has been devoid of any reporting from the front line, which has been partially responsible for my lack of textual presence. I saw her for the first time in 5 weeks today... if only I had known it was her upon the first sighting :P Here's the lowdown: I'm walking to the meet where the rest of the group is; and when I walk, I walk fast. Anyone walking faster than me is usually sprinting. I also listen to music while I walk, and I had the Ratchet and Clank: Going Commando soundtrack on shuffle -- no, I'm not obsessed with the furry bastard to the point where his soundtrack is my motivation for any form of pedal transportation; I just like the soundtrack and haven't listened to it for a while. Get off my proverbial back, God damn it! :P
Anyway; I'm walking down, listening to GC, and one of the faster tracks comes on, which means I walk faster (I have this undeniable urge to walk in time with the music I'm listening to -- do you have that too? It can't just be me- bah! Tangents be gone!) I'm overtaking anyone and everyone in front of me, and I'm nearing my destination, but even with plenty of time to spare, the music takes hold, pushing me forward. There's a lone figure up ahead, and this would easily be the last person I have to get around, making for a swift arrival at the meet. I close in on them to discover the person is some girl, about the same height as me, with pale white skin and dark red hair, wearing short shorts, stockings, and black sunglasses on her head -- just another slow random who's getting in my way. Let's walk past her."
This is the part where I fucked up.
Big time.
I arrive at the meet, and five minutes later, guess who shows up? My fancy! ... who is about the same height as me, with pale white skin and dark red hair... and who just happens to be wearing short shorts, stockings and black sunglasses on her head!
...FFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUU-
I can only imagine the calibre of facepalm it would take to fully represent what a dickhead I've just made of myself! Let's start with the obvious: here is my fancy, the girl of my dreams, walking along a footpath at a reasonable pace with nowhere urgent to be... and I WALK PAST HER!? I could have completed an entire dossier on the girl in the time I spent rushing to get somewhere I was early for anyway! That's a phone number, an MSN address and hence initial contact down the drain! Oh... did I mention the fact that she was by herself? Alone! In solitude! When she gets there, she indulges in conversation with others -- there's no chance for any decent discourse between us -- but here, no other punk-ass intruders were even present, let alone able to get in my way...and I don't even notice! Believe it or not, I had moments earlier checked to see if the girl I speak of was coming out of the train station I walk past on my way there... how does one MISS what they were actively LOOKING FOR only FIVE MINUTES EARLIER!?
The biggest consequence of my (lack of :P) actions, however, is far more subtle, and it may have actually damaged relationship potential rather than simply having missed an opportunity to boost it. We know I walked past her, but let me remind you of the speed at which I passed her: she was at walking pace... I'm at almost jogging pace... which means I bolted past her! This not only means I didn't notice her, but that may very well have told her I was in a hurry to get away from her! That tells her I don't even want to speak to her when that's all I've been trying to do for WEEKS ON END! I'd kill to have a conversation with her, and I am not talking in any figurative manner! Whilst this was never confirmed and we actually did speak for a bit before the group went inside, but there was nothing special today in our interaction; and, considering we hadn't seen each other for 5 weeks, you'd think a "so, what did you get up to?" would have come my way. Yes, yes; I know I should have asked her that question... but we'll get to that later :P
The knockout punch actually came just after we got inside. I was thinking to myself "it's OK, it's all OK... you'll still leave with her. You'll still walk with her after the session. Another girl will be there, but it's better than nothing..." I was going to find that out the hard way :P No more than a few minutes after we get in, my fancy (and the girl she walks to the train station with) made arrangements to leave 10 minutes early. Being straight across from my fancy (one of the few things that went right that afternoon -- her face is so pretty! :D) I heard, and it was at this point that my head internally collapsed -- that's every avenue I have for initiating form of contact exhausted in the space of 20 minutes. We were then instructed to clear our minds by writing whatever we were thinking about now for 2 minutes, which basically involved me writing what you see here condensed in to a short, handwritten paragraph (with increased profanity density :P).
Even knowing that I could (and, with a stroke of luck, will) bump in to her at the same time next week, being fully aware of her presence and able to take advantage of the opportunity, she probably won't be alone next time (nor any other) as I'm sure she usually walks with someone who was away this week -- the walking with her afterwards is also fucked seeing as I can't run fast enough to catch up with a 10 minute gap (and believe me, I tried. Hard.) There is, however, one teensy weensy little trick I have up my sleeve: illegitimately acquired contact details. That's right; you read correctly: contact details. I discovered that her e-mail address is in the big list of 'em when the whole group gets sent stuff. To use it would be a little unusual, yes, but what options do I have now? This is the only reliable one left -- the encounters leave too much to chance. With the group now working on our final task, ideas are being discussed, and her's is one of intrigue and mystery... I don't know just what it is, but it sounds... just interesting. What little details I have now don't fit, and she's the only one with the missing pieces, so let us ask for them! What do I have to lose? If I e-mail her and she replies, there's my ticket and off I go; if she doesn't reply, we know the answer to that all important question and can get the fuck on with life. It's win-win... for me, anyway :P
...you know what else I'd kill for? A DeLorean... with a flux capacitor and time circuits that actually work.
Wednesday, 11 May 2011
Monday, 25 April 2011
Self-Esteem: Stop Flicking That Goddamned Light Switch!
I recall in an earlier entry I wrote creating some wild metaphor where I described mood in terms of a fluorescent light, and how I had "severed the connection" so to speak, effectively disabling the bulb. I've successfully managed to solder the wires and get the bulb back up and running, but only to an intermittent extent. It's unusual how one minute I'm full of confidence, but the next leaves me lacking worth and cause... that can't be good :P The first term that jumps to mind for most would be "bi-polar," and I'd be rather inclined to agree, but the second idea that comes in to play is that of seeking help... right :P The only person who can help me right now doesn't even know who she is... nor do I know who she is :P I have a fairly good idea who she is at the moment, sure, but I could be very very wrong (and it wouldn't be the first time.) My self-esteem has taken up bungee jumping, and if you've ever had one of your fluorescent lights just get up and decide to go bungee jumping, you'll know how dangerous (and hallucinogenic :P) such a situation is -- that bulb so much as taps that wall, and, without the rope even breaking, it shatters in to a million pieces... goodbye Mr. Bulb...
...there I go again :P Metaphors: how do they work?
This pendulum-esque behaviour usually starts when I begin comparing myself to others. I'm a very judgmental person, both unto myself and everyone around me. If you've so much as been in my presence for more than a few seconds, or if you've said so much as a word to be, I've assessed you, top to bottom :P It's a hobby that only retains its appeal with the possibility of someone I'm judging to be "worse" than I am, hence making me feel better about myself -- I use the term "worse" loosely because to call Person A "worse" than Person B is just fucking ignorant, seeing as people do not have a "quality value" attached to them for easy comparison (as everyone seems to think these days). Compared to people I find on the Internet, I'm an intelligent, talented and credible figure. With all the brain-dead motherfuckers out there in the digital realm, I can at times see myself as some kind of mystical deity; one of the few who somehow retained the ability to communicate on a level beyond that of the virtual commoner. When I return to the real world, however, things take a mighty turn mighty fast :P
My life in a sense more broad than the computer is nowhere near as appealing, and I'm sure many others would look down on my position considering my circumstances -- I am alone most of the time, with hardly a name or two I can attach to "friends;" I am without the desire to meet new people or enter new places; and I am without the eager nature to do things that have even the *potential* for catastrophe, unlike everyone else in my demographic who all seem otherwise impatient and careless. The people I know are always socialising and doing dangerous shit (at least what I consider dangerous :P) and it evidently makes them happy... so what the fuck is stopping me? Fear! I don't want to be killed in a car accident by some dope who can barely tell left from right when he's sober, not do I want to take control of any similar death machine! Fuck that! I've got things to do, and I don't need a car to do any of them! Thinking of myself in this way destroys all hope and all happiness, leaving me empty inside for a seemingly indefinite time. This is all intensified as my ex comes to mind, always ending with me pondering on my worth as a person and wondering why I should even try to socialise when it's evident I'm just not good with people.
As we hit the middle of the pendulum, now at near maximum velocity (yes; my metaphors obey the laws of physics :P), we approach light speed, and as everything is a dark blur, I begin to search for anything that reflects light. Usually, this is my fancy -- probably because she's fair-skinned and hence reflects lots of light :D -- but those questions of "what does she see in me?" come back to fuck with my head once more. The momentum this pendulum has, however, is incredible (it's fuckin' big, man!) and these questions fade; they aren't answered, but they aren't prevalent either. I just see her and all the things we could do together; I see us. I'm aware it could all be a big fantasy that may never come to be (I'm not mental or anything :P) but it brings that smile I once had right back to my face. It's been a bit harder recently having not seen her for nearly three weeks now, but the power is still there. Hopefully, if I do end up with her (or anyone else, for that matter) we can stop the pendulum somewhere on this side -- as I said, it's heavy, so you'd probably need two people to stop it.
I'm evidently not taking my own advice with the "stopping the metaphor" thing :P
The real kicker comes when I come back to what I've always had and what will always be there for me; what will never die: comedy. As a writer and a performer, I'm always comparing myself to others at both an amateur and professional level, and this is what I've been using lately to bring myself back up to par. In my country, there's a national stand-up competition called "Class Clowns." Last year, when I was only just starting to write comedy, I put together a five minute performance of all the good jokes I had and presented them in the local heat. Now, remember: it's stand-up; you're going up there alone, without backup and without a safety net. It's do or die, and I... sustained minor injuries :P At the end they basically said "you were pretty nervous, so we're gonna give this to the other guy -- however, your material left his for dead."
My material left his for dead, did it? Of course it fuckin' did! The other guy just did a shit-ton of racial and sexual humour; I can write that with my fingers sewn together! Wit, wordplay, intellect and the power of suggestion always triumph, and with a year of writing and performance experience under my belt (not to mention the "balls of steel" I now carry with me at all times :P) I can get in there and kick some fuckin' ass! I've watched the winners of the last two years' competitions, and while they were damn funny, I can point out performance and writing flaws in each one with regards to both relevance, cleverness, audience appropriateness and intellect. They made fun of topical stuff and teenage stuff: Facebook, isolated incidents of violence covered by the media, and celebrities. That material ages fast, and if you don't keep it up to date, it may not even last from the local heat to the grand final. My piece, whilst it does cover some topical issues (it's always good to talk about recent activity -- makes you look like you're committed to your routine) the majority of it is all about the English language, religion and women; three issues that won't be going out of style any time soon. That, coupled with the metal testicles (bleugh :P) should get me pretty damn far, so long as I practice.
I might not win though... gotta keep in mind that I'm not the only one in the country with comic talent... can't get over confident; pride cometh before the fall, and all that... oh shit, no no. Please Mr. Pendulum, don't fall, DON'T FALL! GODDAMN IT! COME BACK HERE! COME BACK HEEEEEERRRrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeee... !
...there I go again :P Metaphors: how do they work?
This pendulum-esque behaviour usually starts when I begin comparing myself to others. I'm a very judgmental person, both unto myself and everyone around me. If you've so much as been in my presence for more than a few seconds, or if you've said so much as a word to be, I've assessed you, top to bottom :P It's a hobby that only retains its appeal with the possibility of someone I'm judging to be "worse" than I am, hence making me feel better about myself -- I use the term "worse" loosely because to call Person A "worse" than Person B is just fucking ignorant, seeing as people do not have a "quality value" attached to them for easy comparison (as everyone seems to think these days). Compared to people I find on the Internet, I'm an intelligent, talented and credible figure. With all the brain-dead motherfuckers out there in the digital realm, I can at times see myself as some kind of mystical deity; one of the few who somehow retained the ability to communicate on a level beyond that of the virtual commoner. When I return to the real world, however, things take a mighty turn mighty fast :P
My life in a sense more broad than the computer is nowhere near as appealing, and I'm sure many others would look down on my position considering my circumstances -- I am alone most of the time, with hardly a name or two I can attach to "friends;" I am without the desire to meet new people or enter new places; and I am without the eager nature to do things that have even the *potential* for catastrophe, unlike everyone else in my demographic who all seem otherwise impatient and careless. The people I know are always socialising and doing dangerous shit (at least what I consider dangerous :P) and it evidently makes them happy... so what the fuck is stopping me? Fear! I don't want to be killed in a car accident by some dope who can barely tell left from right when he's sober, not do I want to take control of any similar death machine! Fuck that! I've got things to do, and I don't need a car to do any of them! Thinking of myself in this way destroys all hope and all happiness, leaving me empty inside for a seemingly indefinite time. This is all intensified as my ex comes to mind, always ending with me pondering on my worth as a person and wondering why I should even try to socialise when it's evident I'm just not good with people.
As we hit the middle of the pendulum, now at near maximum velocity (yes; my metaphors obey the laws of physics :P), we approach light speed, and as everything is a dark blur, I begin to search for anything that reflects light. Usually, this is my fancy -- probably because she's fair-skinned and hence reflects lots of light :D -- but those questions of "what does she see in me?" come back to fuck with my head once more. The momentum this pendulum has, however, is incredible (it's fuckin' big, man!) and these questions fade; they aren't answered, but they aren't prevalent either. I just see her and all the things we could do together; I see us. I'm aware it could all be a big fantasy that may never come to be (I'm not mental or anything :P) but it brings that smile I once had right back to my face. It's been a bit harder recently having not seen her for nearly three weeks now, but the power is still there. Hopefully, if I do end up with her (or anyone else, for that matter) we can stop the pendulum somewhere on this side -- as I said, it's heavy, so you'd probably need two people to stop it.
I'm evidently not taking my own advice with the "stopping the metaphor" thing :P
The real kicker comes when I come back to what I've always had and what will always be there for me; what will never die: comedy. As a writer and a performer, I'm always comparing myself to others at both an amateur and professional level, and this is what I've been using lately to bring myself back up to par. In my country, there's a national stand-up competition called "Class Clowns." Last year, when I was only just starting to write comedy, I put together a five minute performance of all the good jokes I had and presented them in the local heat. Now, remember: it's stand-up; you're going up there alone, without backup and without a safety net. It's do or die, and I... sustained minor injuries :P At the end they basically said "you were pretty nervous, so we're gonna give this to the other guy -- however, your material left his for dead."
My material left his for dead, did it? Of course it fuckin' did! The other guy just did a shit-ton of racial and sexual humour; I can write that with my fingers sewn together! Wit, wordplay, intellect and the power of suggestion always triumph, and with a year of writing and performance experience under my belt (not to mention the "balls of steel" I now carry with me at all times :P) I can get in there and kick some fuckin' ass! I've watched the winners of the last two years' competitions, and while they were damn funny, I can point out performance and writing flaws in each one with regards to both relevance, cleverness, audience appropriateness and intellect. They made fun of topical stuff and teenage stuff: Facebook, isolated incidents of violence covered by the media, and celebrities. That material ages fast, and if you don't keep it up to date, it may not even last from the local heat to the grand final. My piece, whilst it does cover some topical issues (it's always good to talk about recent activity -- makes you look like you're committed to your routine) the majority of it is all about the English language, religion and women; three issues that won't be going out of style any time soon. That, coupled with the metal testicles (bleugh :P) should get me pretty damn far, so long as I practice.
I might not win though... gotta keep in mind that I'm not the only one in the country with comic talent... can't get over confident; pride cometh before the fall, and all that... oh shit, no no. Please Mr. Pendulum, don't fall, DON'T FALL! GODDAMN IT! COME BACK HERE! COME BACK HEEEEEERRRrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeee... !
Monday, 18 April 2011
Idiocy: The New Black
I haven't been on this Earth for very long, but boy, I've gotta tell ya... there are some stupid-ass motherfuckers walking around this place! I know that as humans, we all make mistakes, but when did being a moron become a fad? It's moronic to act like a moron, and it is not, is never was, and it never will be "cool" or "hip" to be a dipshit. Acting like a dipshit can be funny, but actually being a dipshit means nothing but bad things for the world as a whole. What makes it even more astounding is that I'm not actually exclusively talking about children and their usually-retarded behaviour; there are just as many -- if not more -- dopey adults who make up part of the human population, whose retarded actions aren't excusable via lack of age or personal experience! I don't take myself to be a genius; I make mistakes and mess up all the time, but the number of times I think "wow, that's fuckin' stupid!" is far more often a reference to what someone else did rather than what I did.
Prime example: I was watching a news story online (which is a great source of moronic material by default :P) and the report was about a double-shooting that had occurred in Sydney. According to the source, the perpetrator went in to the victims' apartment complex, went up to his apartment, got in one way or another, had a heated discussion with one of the victims, and shot him in the stomach. The other (soon to be) victim tried to escape by climbing over a balcony railing and making his way to the ground, only to have a cap quite literally popped in his ass. In spite of all of this, the victim and his dual-hole buttocks, rather than calling an ambulance or the police, or at the very least asking someone else for help... decided to go down to the local cafe shop and have a nice cup of holy-shit-I'm-bleeding-out-my-arse latte. Only when the cafe staff noticed the blood dripping out the guy's arse did the paramedics and coppers get involved.
So, let's get this straight: this guy has taken a bullet to the behind, and decides that coffee will make this all go away... what!? First, let's start with the obvious: if you've been shot, and you don't call an ambulance or the police, you've probably got something to hide :P Why the fuck would you want to delay the removal of a round in your keister, let alone attempt to sit down on it in a cafe? That's just giving yourself away, that is :P Not to mention what a dick his flatmate thinks he is now; he didn't even get help for his friend! Tsk tsk tsk. What gets me is that he went to... a cafe... to get coffee... WHAT!? Coffee is full of caffeine! Caffeine is a stimulant; it would make the pain worse! I can understand one going to a bar to try and numb the pain with alcohol -- this makes far more sense, albeit still being a relatively stupid idea :P -- but why would you want to make your nervous system even more alert given the situation!? Dumb cunt is dumb; let us proceed :P
In a more general sense, I'm really getting sick of stupid people asking even stupider questions. The Internet is made up of a giant pile of stupid people and a giant pile information, and they can't find one another because the populace consists primarily of lazy, unenlightened douchebags inherently incapable of thinking properly. There are two types of shitty questions: the ones that have a simple, objective answer that you can find with a Google search are the most prominent. Why are people incapable of using a search engine? "Where do I get this item in LittleBigPlanet? What's the level where you find this prize bubble in?" HOW IN THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW!? HOW!? WHAT AM I; A LITTLE BIG ENCYCLOPAEDIA? LOOK IT UP, YOU DAFT TWAT! Woah; all caps! I'd better drink some coffee to calm my mad self down :P
Then there are the questions that are so vague, an answer only results in a follow-up question that's slightly more specific, but still far too general to answer properly! I was recently asked "how do i make machines tht move with the controllernater?" Well, assuming "controllernater" means "Controlinator," the answer is... "you hook the buttons and sticks up to whatever you want them to do." Would that help them? Not really! It depends on what machine it is, what buttons you want to do what, and how the rest of your level is designed -- I'm not as psychic as these people think I am, nor are answers to these questions going to help these poor fuckers. People tend to ask these questions when they think it's appropriate to skip all forms of experimentation and just take the easy way out, evident by the fact that they come to the table with no information for you and no experience to share with you. Here's a tip: try some shit first, then come and ask questions! Perhaps you should find and take in relevant information that's already out there, proceeding to try to apply it to what you're doing; you know, being self-reliant!
Thankfully, a lot of these questions come from children, who are morons by nature, and whose learning ability is at such a high that they can (hopefully :P) learn quickly not to do this again in the future... yeah, and maybe that nitwit having metal surgically removed from his rectum can learn how not to look like a criminal. Some say the very definition of insanity is trying the same thing twice and expecting a different outcome; I associate such a definition with idiocy, but I suppose it fits the other i-word just as well. We've all been there, and we all know that were were full of questions back then, as well as the fact that those questions were outright stupid sometimes :P I question the new generation and their ability to learn, however... they just seem so dumb! Am I just a judgmental, conceited dickhead, or am I expressing a serious and shared concern here?
I thought everyone's ability to learn would last them a lifetime... looking at these new guys... perhaps I was wrong...
Prime example: I was watching a news story online (which is a great source of moronic material by default :P) and the report was about a double-shooting that had occurred in Sydney. According to the source, the perpetrator went in to the victims' apartment complex, went up to his apartment, got in one way or another, had a heated discussion with one of the victims, and shot him in the stomach. The other (soon to be) victim tried to escape by climbing over a balcony railing and making his way to the ground, only to have a cap quite literally popped in his ass. In spite of all of this, the victim and his dual-hole buttocks, rather than calling an ambulance or the police, or at the very least asking someone else for help... decided to go down to the local cafe shop and have a nice cup of holy-shit-I'm-bleeding-out-my-arse latte. Only when the cafe staff noticed the blood dripping out the guy's arse did the paramedics and coppers get involved.
So, let's get this straight: this guy has taken a bullet to the behind, and decides that coffee will make this all go away... what!? First, let's start with the obvious: if you've been shot, and you don't call an ambulance or the police, you've probably got something to hide :P Why the fuck would you want to delay the removal of a round in your keister, let alone attempt to sit down on it in a cafe? That's just giving yourself away, that is :P Not to mention what a dick his flatmate thinks he is now; he didn't even get help for his friend! Tsk tsk tsk. What gets me is that he went to... a cafe... to get coffee... WHAT!? Coffee is full of caffeine! Caffeine is a stimulant; it would make the pain worse! I can understand one going to a bar to try and numb the pain with alcohol -- this makes far more sense, albeit still being a relatively stupid idea :P -- but why would you want to make your nervous system even more alert given the situation!? Dumb cunt is dumb; let us proceed :P
In a more general sense, I'm really getting sick of stupid people asking even stupider questions. The Internet is made up of a giant pile of stupid people and a giant pile information, and they can't find one another because the populace consists primarily of lazy, unenlightened douchebags inherently incapable of thinking properly. There are two types of shitty questions: the ones that have a simple, objective answer that you can find with a Google search are the most prominent. Why are people incapable of using a search engine? "Where do I get this item in LittleBigPlanet? What's the level where you find this prize bubble in?" HOW IN THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW!? HOW!? WHAT AM I; A LITTLE BIG ENCYCLOPAEDIA? LOOK IT UP, YOU DAFT TWAT! Woah; all caps! I'd better drink some coffee to calm my mad self down :P
Then there are the questions that are so vague, an answer only results in a follow-up question that's slightly more specific, but still far too general to answer properly! I was recently asked "how do i make machines tht move with the controllernater?" Well, assuming "controllernater" means "Controlinator," the answer is... "you hook the buttons and sticks up to whatever you want them to do." Would that help them? Not really! It depends on what machine it is, what buttons you want to do what, and how the rest of your level is designed -- I'm not as psychic as these people think I am, nor are answers to these questions going to help these poor fuckers. People tend to ask these questions when they think it's appropriate to skip all forms of experimentation and just take the easy way out, evident by the fact that they come to the table with no information for you and no experience to share with you. Here's a tip: try some shit first, then come and ask questions! Perhaps you should find and take in relevant information that's already out there, proceeding to try to apply it to what you're doing; you know, being self-reliant!
Thankfully, a lot of these questions come from children, who are morons by nature, and whose learning ability is at such a high that they can (hopefully :P) learn quickly not to do this again in the future... yeah, and maybe that nitwit having metal surgically removed from his rectum can learn how not to look like a criminal. Some say the very definition of insanity is trying the same thing twice and expecting a different outcome; I associate such a definition with idiocy, but I suppose it fits the other i-word just as well. We've all been there, and we all know that were were full of questions back then, as well as the fact that those questions were outright stupid sometimes :P I question the new generation and their ability to learn, however... they just seem so dumb! Am I just a judgmental, conceited dickhead, or am I expressing a serious and shared concern here?
I thought everyone's ability to learn would last them a lifetime... looking at these new guys... perhaps I was wrong...
Wednesday, 13 April 2011
Addiction: Protector of All That Is Holy, Deliver Me from Crash Bandicoot
Man oh man... it's been a crazy few days! I've got two weeks of (relative :P) relaxation time from my otherwise busy schedule, and what's the first thing I do? Play Crash Bandicoot! Fuck catch-up, fuck preparation for the future and fuck socialising with friends I don't have; it's time for some old school platforming with our favourite marsupial friend! Perhaps the title should have been "Priorities: I Don't Has" :P I have been doing a lot of work for LittleBigShow in between sessions -- it's taken ages to edit because a new game calls for changes aplenty -- but that furry little bastard has swept me away to a land of pure digital bliss... and seemingly endless cursing that's eventually met with a platinum relic :P It's crazy how something can suck you in like this, and many would consider playing video games for (what I consider to be) long periods of time bad for one's self in terms of physical and mental well being, but those fuckers are probably bored stiff from their 9-to-5 routine and a lack of self esteem that causes them to call anything differing from the norm "unhealthy" -- they should play some Crash Bandicoot! Give these people a PlayStation and the original trilogy! Relieve them of their piousness to conformity!
I actually started out playing Crash Bandicoot 3: Warped, skipping the first two games in exchange for something I was more familiar with, seeing as I grew up playing Warped and never had the other two. The nostalgia is mind-blowing; playing a game where I used to scrape through and barely got past the main storyline, but now having the skill and ability to go back and get everything there is to get... it gives me a strong sense of power, as if I'm some kind of gaming God. It's amazing how I can ignore the blocky graphics and the low polygon count, being able to just play and play, enjoying the game for what I'm doing in it rather than what I'm looking at during gameplay. We all know from experience that a more powerful system does not necessarily make for more enjoyable titles; the responsibility for AAA content always has and always will lie with the developer, and Naughty Dog knew what the fuck they were doing :P After I got all the gems and gold relics, I finally earned me 105% completion -- and for those of you pondering on that, remember: this game puts you in the role of a bandicoot with a mystical mask for a friend and a wumpa-bazooka as a weapon; 105% completion is far from the most illogical concept this game has to offer :P -- but I still wanted all the platinum relics, so off I went trying to get them... and fuck me, they can be hard! A few of them are easy, but some of them are damned tricky! You usually can't make a single mistake, or you'll have to restart. Every jump must be timed perfectly, every jump justified, and every time box broken, or you're sweet outta luck, jolly well fucked, and restarting the level as you swear and curse your way in to mental oblivion -- it makes me wonder why I play if I'm just gonna go ape-shit at a TV screen :P And don't get me started on the jet-ski levels... just don't.
After I got all 30 platinum relics (a feat I thought was far beyond my ability) I wondered what to play next... well, isn't it obvious? Let's play the next Crash Bandicoot game! I'm evidently losing control over myself here :P The next one required me to blow the dust off my PS2 -- I'd play it more, but the component cables I used to use to hook it up to the TV are now permanently connected to my capture card for my PS3, and I can't be fucked buying more cables, so the poor bastard's been left alone for months at a time over the past year or so... oh well, this is sure to get his spirits back on high! Crash Bandicoot: Wrath of Cortex is basically Warped, minus the cartoony PS1-era presentation and with a few level changes: namely no stinking jet-ski levels, and the added ball-rolling levels! They are sweet! If there's one good thing that came out of this game, it's the ball-rolling. *You may insert a reference to Chamillionare's "Ridin'" here if you find such references humourous.* For every good idea, however, there's a whole bunch of fuck ups -- take the camera, for instance: it's god awful, especially in the underwater levels, where enemies appear on screen out of nowhere, giving you only half a second to react... annoying shit, let me tell you. Speaking of annoying, how about the loading times? The original trilogy didn't even have loading times, and this is the PS1 we're talking about here! These loading times, whilst not totally unbearable, are still irritable... and the music doesn't loop! Naughty Dog figured that shit out; why can't these new guys do it?
They're both enjoyable titles though (hence why I've been barely able to put the controller down) but when I play video games with this chronological density, I wonder... am I playing because I enjoy it, or am I playing because I need to? Did I go "hey, you know what would be fun? Playing the next game in the series" or "gimme a game gimme a game gimme a game any game I don't care so long as I'm not doing anything productive gimme gimme gimme!" What's gonna happen when I finish this one? Am I gonna go out and get Crash Twinsanity in my urge to manipulate this little bandicoot digital existence? Am I gonna go back and play the first or second game in the trilogy? Am I gonna go outside due to a critical Vitamin D shortage? I don't wanna spend my days getting crystals, gems and relics, no matter how fun it is! I have a girl to chase, damn it, and she sure as fuck ain't gonna be impressed by gaming statistics of any kind, even if they do defy the basic laws of mathematics.
That's one question I asked myself during a gaming session: if I had the choice between playing a new game I've been eager to get for a long time, and a date, which would I choose? In theory, I'd pick the date -- that's a fuckin' no-brainer right there -- but in practice... I'm not even sure anymore :P I'd have to put the controller down to get to the stage where I'd be offered a date, so I suppose it's not as simple as my hypothetical makes it out to be. I thought about my fancy as I was doing some work in between gaming sessions (or am I gaming in between writing sessions... o.O) and one lone butterfly came to say hello to my stomach. It makes me glad that I'm not so warped (pardon the reference :P) by games that my mind leaves reality and enters the simulated one; that would suck, hard. I suppose that means I'm OK -- if I can still dream about bliss with people, I can still engage in my bliss with my gamepad.
What? I fell down that hole again!? AGAIN!? Oh, for fuck's sake!
I actually started out playing Crash Bandicoot 3: Warped, skipping the first two games in exchange for something I was more familiar with, seeing as I grew up playing Warped and never had the other two. The nostalgia is mind-blowing; playing a game where I used to scrape through and barely got past the main storyline, but now having the skill and ability to go back and get everything there is to get... it gives me a strong sense of power, as if I'm some kind of gaming God. It's amazing how I can ignore the blocky graphics and the low polygon count, being able to just play and play, enjoying the game for what I'm doing in it rather than what I'm looking at during gameplay. We all know from experience that a more powerful system does not necessarily make for more enjoyable titles; the responsibility for AAA content always has and always will lie with the developer, and Naughty Dog knew what the fuck they were doing :P After I got all the gems and gold relics, I finally earned me 105% completion -- and for those of you pondering on that, remember: this game puts you in the role of a bandicoot with a mystical mask for a friend and a wumpa-bazooka as a weapon; 105% completion is far from the most illogical concept this game has to offer :P -- but I still wanted all the platinum relics, so off I went trying to get them... and fuck me, they can be hard! A few of them are easy, but some of them are damned tricky! You usually can't make a single mistake, or you'll have to restart. Every jump must be timed perfectly, every jump justified, and every time box broken, or you're sweet outta luck, jolly well fucked, and restarting the level as you swear and curse your way in to mental oblivion -- it makes me wonder why I play if I'm just gonna go ape-shit at a TV screen :P And don't get me started on the jet-ski levels... just don't.
After I got all 30 platinum relics (a feat I thought was far beyond my ability) I wondered what to play next... well, isn't it obvious? Let's play the next Crash Bandicoot game! I'm evidently losing control over myself here :P The next one required me to blow the dust off my PS2 -- I'd play it more, but the component cables I used to use to hook it up to the TV are now permanently connected to my capture card for my PS3, and I can't be fucked buying more cables, so the poor bastard's been left alone for months at a time over the past year or so... oh well, this is sure to get his spirits back on high! Crash Bandicoot: Wrath of Cortex is basically Warped, minus the cartoony PS1-era presentation and with a few level changes: namely no stinking jet-ski levels, and the added ball-rolling levels! They are sweet! If there's one good thing that came out of this game, it's the ball-rolling. *You may insert a reference to Chamillionare's "Ridin'" here if you find such references humourous.* For every good idea, however, there's a whole bunch of fuck ups -- take the camera, for instance: it's god awful, especially in the underwater levels, where enemies appear on screen out of nowhere, giving you only half a second to react... annoying shit, let me tell you. Speaking of annoying, how about the loading times? The original trilogy didn't even have loading times, and this is the PS1 we're talking about here! These loading times, whilst not totally unbearable, are still irritable... and the music doesn't loop! Naughty Dog figured that shit out; why can't these new guys do it?
They're both enjoyable titles though (hence why I've been barely able to put the controller down) but when I play video games with this chronological density, I wonder... am I playing because I enjoy it, or am I playing because I need to? Did I go "hey, you know what would be fun? Playing the next game in the series" or "gimme a game gimme a game gimme a game any game I don't care so long as I'm not doing anything productive gimme gimme gimme!" What's gonna happen when I finish this one? Am I gonna go out and get Crash Twinsanity in my urge to manipulate this little bandicoot digital existence? Am I gonna go back and play the first or second game in the trilogy? Am I gonna go outside due to a critical Vitamin D shortage? I don't wanna spend my days getting crystals, gems and relics, no matter how fun it is! I have a girl to chase, damn it, and she sure as fuck ain't gonna be impressed by gaming statistics of any kind, even if they do defy the basic laws of mathematics.
That's one question I asked myself during a gaming session: if I had the choice between playing a new game I've been eager to get for a long time, and a date, which would I choose? In theory, I'd pick the date -- that's a fuckin' no-brainer right there -- but in practice... I'm not even sure anymore :P I'd have to put the controller down to get to the stage where I'd be offered a date, so I suppose it's not as simple as my hypothetical makes it out to be. I thought about my fancy as I was doing some work in between gaming sessions (or am I gaming in between writing sessions... o.O) and one lone butterfly came to say hello to my stomach. It makes me glad that I'm not so warped (pardon the reference :P) by games that my mind leaves reality and enters the simulated one; that would suck, hard. I suppose that means I'm OK -- if I can still dream about bliss with people, I can still engage in my bliss with my gamepad.
What? I fell down that hole again!? AGAIN!? Oh, for fuck's sake!
Wednesday, 6 April 2011
Religion: The #1 Solution for All Your Clarity-Destruction Needs
Tuesday, Tuesday, Tuesday... gotta get down on Tuesday :P I'm not even sure if I want to continue writing with what information has just popped out of nowhere and punched me in the face. I've met this motherfucker before, and a motherfucker he remains, as does his burden: religion is back to test my patience. I don't have much against religious people as a whole; most of the ones I know are hardly different from the atheists and agnostics I know with regards to their acceptance, their tolerance or their intellect. The problem is that it's always the person who I least want to have faith that has it, and this time, it's my fancy. I suppose the issue here is that she's religious and I'm not, creating an incompatibility I'm all too familiar with -- my ex girlfriend was (and is) Christian, and although she never told me why she wanted to end it all, I'm damn sure the whole "God thing" played a significant role in her departure from my life.
Believe me when I say I have no issue with her faith in and of itself; she isn't trying to convert me, so it doesn't bother me. It does get me, however, that it never came out! She has no chain around her neck with a cross or a crucifix hanging from it, she never mentions God, Jesus or anything else "holy," and she's wild! She's loud, proud and boisterous! She's sworn, she wants to be famous, and I've heard her talking about parties and drinking! Where's the fucking consistency here!? Did she convert only yesterday or something? Seriously... just... blargh! It just proves what I've been thinking all along: women make no sense. Don't look for consistency in women; you won't find any :P My ex girlfriend, whilst quiet, was obviously Christian; the cross around her neck put that fact out in the open, for all to see. Here, though: nothing! How do you hide something like that? I mean, I'm glad she's not the type who goes on and on about it -- those people piss me off immensely -- but this is the sort of choice people usually take pride in... where is it here? No obligation for a symbol within the church, I suppose...
This takes me back to when I liked my ex. I knew she was Christian, but I didn't give a shit! I liked her enough to put this otherwise major difference aside and bear with the restrictions -- yes, I would have loved to stick my tongue down her throat and smother her with physical affection, but we didn't need to go there with the deeper connection we had with one another, so it had no real effect on us as a couple. We had a damned good time together! We did anything a normal couple does, and no deity stopped us from being together! The break-up, however, made it very apparent that conflicting religious values can end up being the deal-breaker in these kinds of relationships, and this new perspective in an otherwise identical experience has changed everything. I even wish I didn't know about it, for at least such ignorance would leave me happy! Seeing her arrive today put a smile on my face; this has effectively wiped it off, knowing what could become of this new fancy and I should we come together.
My feelings for this girl have diminished, and it saddens me a great deal -- not because she's religious and the implications that come with that, but the fact that I care that she's religious. The thing is that this little escapade has kept my hope for something (aka "someone") better alive for the past month, and it won't die without a fucking fight; it won't prosper without a fight either, but it won't go down unless I stomp the now quiet flame out. Surely, this girl is no less beautiful, no less intelligent and no less remarkable because of a mere difference in faith; I can't just expect her to mirror my faith (or lack there of) can I? Not everyone believes what I believe. This difference didn't stop me last time, nor shall it this time -- and, let's face it: this shit is still in the research and development phase! I don't even know if she likes me back yet! I'm thinking too far in to a merely potential future! I'm still without sufficient information to make any informed judgement as to whether this relationship can or will blossom, irrespective of religious grounds! It's way too easy to get caught up in shit like this, especially if you've got nothing else to think about :P
Regardless of what "stage" this hootenanny remains in, it'll all have to wait; I don't see my fancy for three weeks... three weeks! The way I see it, if those butterflies don't come back the next time I see her, all this can be safely put to rest, no one the wiser... lest she see this... like that's gonna happen :P As for contacting her... sweet outta luck there; no email, no phone number, no nothing :P Fuck all to show for all my mental strain except for what you see written in front of you. It makes me think though: what the hell was up with all the signs? The greetings were normal -- her character -- but the weird compliments and the asking me to go first... methinks something's afoot there :P Do we have another Christian falling for an agnostic? Now that she knows I ain't a believer, however (she's gotta know by now,) does that change things with her? This week was nothing special: no greeting, no otherwise irregular conversation, hardly a glance... perhaps it's ended for both of us... or maybe it's just the beginning...
THIS WEEK'S HOLLYWOOD ENDING BROUGHT TO YOU BY:
FEELINGS: THERE FOR YOU WHEN YOU WISH THEY WOULD JUST FUCK OFF FOR A SEC SO YOU CAN THINK
Believe me when I say I have no issue with her faith in and of itself; she isn't trying to convert me, so it doesn't bother me. It does get me, however, that it never came out! She has no chain around her neck with a cross or a crucifix hanging from it, she never mentions God, Jesus or anything else "holy," and she's wild! She's loud, proud and boisterous! She's sworn, she wants to be famous, and I've heard her talking about parties and drinking! Where's the fucking consistency here!? Did she convert only yesterday or something? Seriously... just... blargh! It just proves what I've been thinking all along: women make no sense. Don't look for consistency in women; you won't find any :P My ex girlfriend, whilst quiet, was obviously Christian; the cross around her neck put that fact out in the open, for all to see. Here, though: nothing! How do you hide something like that? I mean, I'm glad she's not the type who goes on and on about it -- those people piss me off immensely -- but this is the sort of choice people usually take pride in... where is it here? No obligation for a symbol within the church, I suppose...
This takes me back to when I liked my ex. I knew she was Christian, but I didn't give a shit! I liked her enough to put this otherwise major difference aside and bear with the restrictions -- yes, I would have loved to stick my tongue down her throat and smother her with physical affection, but we didn't need to go there with the deeper connection we had with one another, so it had no real effect on us as a couple. We had a damned good time together! We did anything a normal couple does, and no deity stopped us from being together! The break-up, however, made it very apparent that conflicting religious values can end up being the deal-breaker in these kinds of relationships, and this new perspective in an otherwise identical experience has changed everything. I even wish I didn't know about it, for at least such ignorance would leave me happy! Seeing her arrive today put a smile on my face; this has effectively wiped it off, knowing what could become of this new fancy and I should we come together.
My feelings for this girl have diminished, and it saddens me a great deal -- not because she's religious and the implications that come with that, but the fact that I care that she's religious. The thing is that this little escapade has kept my hope for something (aka "someone") better alive for the past month, and it won't die without a fucking fight; it won't prosper without a fight either, but it won't go down unless I stomp the now quiet flame out. Surely, this girl is no less beautiful, no less intelligent and no less remarkable because of a mere difference in faith; I can't just expect her to mirror my faith (or lack there of) can I? Not everyone believes what I believe. This difference didn't stop me last time, nor shall it this time -- and, let's face it: this shit is still in the research and development phase! I don't even know if she likes me back yet! I'm thinking too far in to a merely potential future! I'm still without sufficient information to make any informed judgement as to whether this relationship can or will blossom, irrespective of religious grounds! It's way too easy to get caught up in shit like this, especially if you've got nothing else to think about :P
Regardless of what "stage" this hootenanny remains in, it'll all have to wait; I don't see my fancy for three weeks... three weeks! The way I see it, if those butterflies don't come back the next time I see her, all this can be safely put to rest, no one the wiser... lest she see this... like that's gonna happen :P As for contacting her... sweet outta luck there; no email, no phone number, no nothing :P Fuck all to show for all my mental strain except for what you see written in front of you. It makes me think though: what the hell was up with all the signs? The greetings were normal -- her character -- but the weird compliments and the asking me to go first... methinks something's afoot there :P Do we have another Christian falling for an agnostic? Now that she knows I ain't a believer, however (she's gotta know by now,) does that change things with her? This week was nothing special: no greeting, no otherwise irregular conversation, hardly a glance... perhaps it's ended for both of us... or maybe it's just the beginning...
THIS WEEK'S HOLLYWOOD ENDING BROUGHT TO YOU BY:
FEELINGS: THERE FOR YOU WHEN YOU WISH THEY WOULD JUST FUCK OFF FOR A SEC SO YOU CAN THINK
Monday, 4 April 2011
Assemblies: Now With Added Relevance
Picture this: you're standing in front of 800 people, about to address them. No one knows what you're going to do; they know you're going to say something, but only a select few have any real insight as to what you plan to spout. You're nervous, and rightly so; you could get in trouble! You could fall in to a hole too tall to climb out of! You could fall so far that any hope of seeing daylight again would be totally and utterly destroyed by the inbound darkness! You could get in to some deep shit -- real deep shit -- but you are determined to get up there and speak. The previous speaker gives you the microphone, and the audience expects just another message, only to be met with an unusual and seemingly random comment about a linguistic folly, then a joke about a fence. The audience is now laughing and cheering harder than you could ever imagine (you didn't think it was that funny) as the big boss takes the microphone from you, proceeding to talk for 5 minutes about how it's wrong to waste people's time.
This was me at 11:15 this morning.
To make that a lot clearer for those of you who don't attend my educational facility, what I've just described was this weeks installment of our weekly assembly, and it differed from the norm in the fact that I got up and made a political comment regarding our (Australia's) indigenous culture and its acknowledgment, as well as a crack about a fence that's being installed all the way around the facility I attend. This was met with an incredible and seemingly unbelievable reaction from my audience, as well as disapproval from our facility's head honcho. 15 seconds of applause and a 10 minute one-on-one talk with the aforementioned honcho is a fair price to pay for a minute of stage time :P I'm a (wannabe :P) comedian: when I see 800 people sitting and listening to the reproduction of the sound traveling in to a microphone that it seems just about anyone is allowed to use for a minute or so, what the fuck do they expect me to do?
I'll put the two comments in context; the first comment deals with indigenous relations in my country. At each public gathering that any government body oversees, a representative reads aloud the "Acknowledgement to Country," a passage that (supposedly) recognises the former sole residents of this country -- the British colonised the country in the late 1700s and early 1800s, and needless to say, the indigenous people didn't have much fucking input :P This is all well and good -- at least, in theory, provided the intention is to advance indigenous reconcilement rather than just being a doohickey that relieves the government of guilt -- and I support this acknowledgement, however, its wording is poor. The expression I question is the part where the indigenous people are referred to as the "owners" of the land, which, according to documented history, they are not; they believed the land to be an entity that they were one with, not a commodity to be bought, sold or exploited. Ownership is a European term and a European concept; thus, I see no place for it in such an acknowledgement -- to quote George Carlin: "...we do think in language, and so the quality of our thoughts and ideas can only be as good as the quality of our language." This comment go no reaction, just as I expected, for it actually made the audience think for a goddamned second! They didn't see it coming, but it wasn't just to get the brains in the audience rolling; more was to follow :P
Comment two: the fence. As I mentioned before, there's a fence going up all the way around our little facility: the "vertical bar" variety in a nice shade of black. I think this too is stupid; not so much because of the fence's purpose -- to "keep out unwanted guests" according to the officials the project has been mandated by, but it's there just as much to keep students in; believe me :P -- but because of its look. No, the facility isn't an art project, but it looks shitty enough as it is: we've got this dull grey paint covering the buildings (installed after I started attending, covering an otherwise tolerable navy,) all the students are (expected to be :P) in uniform, and there are even bars covering some of the windows; does this place need to look more like a prison? It was this line that sparked my implicit dismissal as I was relieved of the microphone to the tune of uproarious applause; I hate to mention it repeatedly, but it was fucking insane! I expected a chuckle here and there, but nothing like what actually happened! This too probably spelled the end of my little tirade; God forbid the students hear and share the opinion of someone they can relate to :P
This was followed by head honcho going on about how the assembly isn't a platform for political commentary, and that such banter is a waste of time... what the fuck? I see people get up there week after week and spout all kinds of shit about women's rights and the third world -- important issues, no doubt -- but I can't take the piss out of a fence!? I can't comment on something more relevant to these people? Not to mention the fact she rambled on about this for five times the amount of time I spent with my little crusade; is that hypocrisy, or is that hypocrisy? Wanna make it clear that the assembly's time isn't to be wasted? SHUT UP AND GET ON WITH IT! I'd speak of the 10 minute conversation head honcho and I had afterwards... but we'd be here all day :P
What amazes me is the plethora of attention this has sparked in not only me and my "balls of steel," but the presented issues themselves. My friend tells me that Facebook is alive with conversation; mission completed! That was the whole fucking idea: to get people thinking! I won't lie: it was also an ego trip, and a damned good one -- it's not everyday you have students coming up to you telling you the materials out of which your testicles have been constructed in their metaphorical world :P If you're gonna get up and speak, I feel you should be proud of what you have to say and embrace it, not to mention stick behind it, even if your views have changed. Take it in -- you only live once! That, however, was just as much a goal as the discussion was, and if people are talking about these issues and taking an interest, my work is done. I don't want to tell people how to think; I want to encourage people to think, as well as make people laugh. Views need to be challenged to be developed, and that goes for me as much as anyone else. Got a problem? Speak up; something cool might happen!
Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a few drums of insta-dry rainbow paint to acquire :D
This was me at 11:15 this morning.
To make that a lot clearer for those of you who don't attend my educational facility, what I've just described was this weeks installment of our weekly assembly, and it differed from the norm in the fact that I got up and made a political comment regarding our (Australia's) indigenous culture and its acknowledgment, as well as a crack about a fence that's being installed all the way around the facility I attend. This was met with an incredible and seemingly unbelievable reaction from my audience, as well as disapproval from our facility's head honcho. 15 seconds of applause and a 10 minute one-on-one talk with the aforementioned honcho is a fair price to pay for a minute of stage time :P I'm a (wannabe :P) comedian: when I see 800 people sitting and listening to the reproduction of the sound traveling in to a microphone that it seems just about anyone is allowed to use for a minute or so, what the fuck do they expect me to do?
I'll put the two comments in context; the first comment deals with indigenous relations in my country. At each public gathering that any government body oversees, a representative reads aloud the "Acknowledgement to Country," a passage that (supposedly) recognises the former sole residents of this country -- the British colonised the country in the late 1700s and early 1800s, and needless to say, the indigenous people didn't have much fucking input :P This is all well and good -- at least, in theory, provided the intention is to advance indigenous reconcilement rather than just being a doohickey that relieves the government of guilt -- and I support this acknowledgement, however, its wording is poor. The expression I question is the part where the indigenous people are referred to as the "owners" of the land, which, according to documented history, they are not; they believed the land to be an entity that they were one with, not a commodity to be bought, sold or exploited. Ownership is a European term and a European concept; thus, I see no place for it in such an acknowledgement -- to quote George Carlin: "...we do think in language, and so the quality of our thoughts and ideas can only be as good as the quality of our language." This comment go no reaction, just as I expected, for it actually made the audience think for a goddamned second! They didn't see it coming, but it wasn't just to get the brains in the audience rolling; more was to follow :P
Comment two: the fence. As I mentioned before, there's a fence going up all the way around our little facility: the "vertical bar" variety in a nice shade of black. I think this too is stupid; not so much because of the fence's purpose -- to "keep out unwanted guests" according to the officials the project has been mandated by, but it's there just as much to keep students in; believe me :P -- but because of its look. No, the facility isn't an art project, but it looks shitty enough as it is: we've got this dull grey paint covering the buildings (installed after I started attending, covering an otherwise tolerable navy,) all the students are (expected to be :P) in uniform, and there are even bars covering some of the windows; does this place need to look more like a prison? It was this line that sparked my implicit dismissal as I was relieved of the microphone to the tune of uproarious applause; I hate to mention it repeatedly, but it was fucking insane! I expected a chuckle here and there, but nothing like what actually happened! This too probably spelled the end of my little tirade; God forbid the students hear and share the opinion of someone they can relate to :P
This was followed by head honcho going on about how the assembly isn't a platform for political commentary, and that such banter is a waste of time... what the fuck? I see people get up there week after week and spout all kinds of shit about women's rights and the third world -- important issues, no doubt -- but I can't take the piss out of a fence!? I can't comment on something more relevant to these people? Not to mention the fact she rambled on about this for five times the amount of time I spent with my little crusade; is that hypocrisy, or is that hypocrisy? Wanna make it clear that the assembly's time isn't to be wasted? SHUT UP AND GET ON WITH IT! I'd speak of the 10 minute conversation head honcho and I had afterwards... but we'd be here all day :P
What amazes me is the plethora of attention this has sparked in not only me and my "balls of steel," but the presented issues themselves. My friend tells me that Facebook is alive with conversation; mission completed! That was the whole fucking idea: to get people thinking! I won't lie: it was also an ego trip, and a damned good one -- it's not everyday you have students coming up to you telling you the materials out of which your testicles have been constructed in their metaphorical world :P If you're gonna get up and speak, I feel you should be proud of what you have to say and embrace it, not to mention stick behind it, even if your views have changed. Take it in -- you only live once! That, however, was just as much a goal as the discussion was, and if people are talking about these issues and taking an interest, my work is done. I don't want to tell people how to think; I want to encourage people to think, as well as make people laugh. Views need to be challenged to be developed, and that goes for me as much as anyone else. Got a problem? Speak up; something cool might happen!
Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a few drums of insta-dry rainbow paint to acquire :D
Thursday, 31 March 2011
Confusion: When Will These Birds Piss Off!?
Yeah... here I go about my fancy again :P Considering I saw her no more than 24 hours ago, however, it seems almost appropriate. As for this week's evidence as to this attraction being not as unrequited as it could be, let us delve: my arrival at the writing session was met with another direct greeting from her. That's the same thing done twice. Consistency is a good sign, no? The real catcher for me was actually a silent pair of moments: eye contact. Eye contact! Yes, it only lasted a few seconds, and yes, it may have been (a.k.a was probably :P) coincidental, but everything must be taken in to account here. I find this girl unusual in her reactions to my "noticing" of her seeming habits - I look back to when I used to ogle a girl I liked during class time, more specifically the instances of turning my head straight away if I even thought she was going to catch me staring. This girl didn't budge! If my eyes met the girl in the previous scenario, I'd do the ol' "stare at the ground in front of you to make it look like you're thinking about something really hard" look; it's a skill I've since mastered :P On the other hand, this girl just... keeps looking! Is she slow? Is her reaction time impaired? Was she looking at someone else? I could have sworn!
What's even more confusing is how I'm acting - and, if I'm acting, I'm not being myself, which is no help at all considering the circumstances :P As I said, she didn't even blink or bat her (lovely :D) eyelids in either occurrence. Guess who did: me! My eyes wander; they're adventurous bastards, always looking for more. I make a sustained effort to not lock my sockets on my fancy; an effort that stems from the basic logic that she'll get creeped right the fuck out if she sees me staring her down :P I get the odd glimpse here and there, but nothing lasting longer than a second or so - the clips can be joined later during editing. On both occasions where our eyes met, it was I who made the unintentional look, and I who looked away first! What the fuck is up with that!? Is she mesmerised by me or something!? That doesn't make sense - I'm ugly! I'm the ugliest motherfucker in the room! I'm mesmerised by her, but that's understandable because she's attractive! How ironic: the beautiful woman is intentionally ignored by the lazy slob, while the lazy slob is secretly admired by the beautiful woman... an ironic theory at the very least :P
The real confusion was only to begin after the session was over, as I decided to walk with this girl for a while, as we travel in the same direction for a kilometre or so before heading our separate ways - you don't need a secret GPS chip when you can simply trail behind 50 metres or so and take mental notes. The previous week, she walked with one other person -- another girl -- which would have been perfect seeing as there's someone she's already friends with there to help the social vibe along; I wouldn't have had to do anything but join in! It doesn't work so well, however, when there are two girls accompanying the lady on her way home! We all know women are powerful beings on their own, but by God do they become something else as a team! Once they start, they will never ever ever stop talking until they disband! If you're a guy tagging along with them, you're just along for the ride, and it's not a fun ride :P It's impossible to get a word in, seeing as not only do they persistently talk and leave no room for you to speak, but the subject manner changes at such a pace so that the moment you do think of something to say, it's irrelevant!
This is why I need contact details: to cut the other misfits out of the goddamned picture and get some quality one-on-one time with this girl! I don't give a fuck about the means of communication, nor do I give a fuck about what we talk about; I just want some conversation! The butterflies have taken my stomach hostage, and they demand some vigorous and enthralling communication or they ain't goin' nowhere! That's the thing, though: how do I get contact details without fucking everything up and giving myself away!? I can't just ask straight out of the blue -- that's a recipe for disaster, especially with the other two girls around -- but when can I ask? This is the sort of shit one normally does when they first meet someone, not months and months later! The thing is, that if she does like me... she's probably thinking the same thing, and waiting for me to make the first move! Perhaps I'll just have to wait and hope for the perfect opportunity to arise where asking will fit the mood and won't be awkward...
... these butterflies look impatient though... especially that one...
What's even more confusing is how I'm acting - and, if I'm acting, I'm not being myself, which is no help at all considering the circumstances :P As I said, she didn't even blink or bat her (lovely :D) eyelids in either occurrence. Guess who did: me! My eyes wander; they're adventurous bastards, always looking for more. I make a sustained effort to not lock my sockets on my fancy; an effort that stems from the basic logic that she'll get creeped right the fuck out if she sees me staring her down :P I get the odd glimpse here and there, but nothing lasting longer than a second or so - the clips can be joined later during editing. On both occasions where our eyes met, it was I who made the unintentional look, and I who looked away first! What the fuck is up with that!? Is she mesmerised by me or something!? That doesn't make sense - I'm ugly! I'm the ugliest motherfucker in the room! I'm mesmerised by her, but that's understandable because she's attractive! How ironic: the beautiful woman is intentionally ignored by the lazy slob, while the lazy slob is secretly admired by the beautiful woman... an ironic theory at the very least :P
The real confusion was only to begin after the session was over, as I decided to walk with this girl for a while, as we travel in the same direction for a kilometre or so before heading our separate ways - you don't need a secret GPS chip when you can simply trail behind 50 metres or so and take mental notes. The previous week, she walked with one other person -- another girl -- which would have been perfect seeing as there's someone she's already friends with there to help the social vibe along; I wouldn't have had to do anything but join in! It doesn't work so well, however, when there are two girls accompanying the lady on her way home! We all know women are powerful beings on their own, but by God do they become something else as a team! Once they start, they will never ever ever stop talking until they disband! If you're a guy tagging along with them, you're just along for the ride, and it's not a fun ride :P It's impossible to get a word in, seeing as not only do they persistently talk and leave no room for you to speak, but the subject manner changes at such a pace so that the moment you do think of something to say, it's irrelevant!
This is why I need contact details: to cut the other misfits out of the goddamned picture and get some quality one-on-one time with this girl! I don't give a fuck about the means of communication, nor do I give a fuck about what we talk about; I just want some conversation! The butterflies have taken my stomach hostage, and they demand some vigorous and enthralling communication or they ain't goin' nowhere! That's the thing, though: how do I get contact details without fucking everything up and giving myself away!? I can't just ask straight out of the blue -- that's a recipe for disaster, especially with the other two girls around -- but when can I ask? This is the sort of shit one normally does when they first meet someone, not months and months later! The thing is, that if she does like me... she's probably thinking the same thing, and waiting for me to make the first move! Perhaps I'll just have to wait and hope for the perfect opportunity to arise where asking will fit the mood and won't be awkward...
... these butterflies look impatient though... especially that one...
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