Da Vinci Code

Well, so this weekend I finished Dan Brown's "Da Vinci Code." I really have to warn people against this book, because it is a time vaccuum. I really got into it. It's a pretty shallow, straight forward, book though. One of those ones that you sit back when you're done and say "that had a lot of holes in it." But it's a fun ride. It'll make an excellent movie. I can't wait to see Tom Hanks run...and run...and run...because really, all this book is, is one giant chase scene. The villian is pretty surprising too, although not too surprising because I had it narrowed down to two characters...and the Teacher turned out to be one of them. I was a bit dissapointed in some of the codes found throughout the book. They were way too easy. I have very little knowledge...about religious stuff...and I was able to decode a lot of the clues and puzzles WAY before the characters (who were college professors and historians). Some of the riddles were really obvious too, and they'd spend chapters trying to figure them out. I just wanted to scream at the page..."You stupid idiots!"




Is the book anti-Catholic? Yeah. If I was a Catholic, or for that matter, a Christian, I'd be pretty offended by much of the book. The book claims Jesus wasn't the son of God, but a prophet. The Holy Grail is Mary, who had Jesus' kid...and went into hiding with the Jews in Gaul (modern day France). Their bloodline is alive and well in Europe today...blah, blah, blah. If I had firm beliefs in Jesus I'd be really upset. But not too, upset, I'm no expert, but many of the book's claims are a little far fetched.

Anyway, the movie should be pretty good. Just don't take all this stuff so seriously. Sit back, and enjoy. I'd reccomend the book to anyone interested in what the film is about. If you are curious, and not too conservative, pick it up. You won't be able to put it down.

Lights Out

Well the power is back on here...it's been out for the last hour or so. Yesterday the lights flickered on and off. It really screwed up my GOD OF WAR game. It's been really windy today, I heard that a tree fell down on the next street over and took out our lights here in the dorm. I'm glad the lights are back on, because I was really freakin' out.

Since we can't have candles or matches here...when the lights go out I pretty much have nothing to do. I finally got a hold of Leah and I guess the lights are out at her place, too. Not sure what's up with that. Every since I moved out here to St. Louis I've noticed they lose there lights out here a lot. I think it has something to do with all the trees. Back home our trees are much smaller (what with all the new houses going up). I guess in a few years we'll have this same problem back home.

I managed to get all my stuff done today that I needed to get done...so I guess if the lights go back out again...I'll just have to deal with it (i.e. go to bed early).

"And in the end..."

Oh yeah, all right
Are you going to be in my dreams
Tonight?
And in the end
The love you take
Is equal to the love you make.

So, I'm sitting here listening to "Abbey Road" and I'm playing that deadly game...which is the best Beatles album of all time. It's hard, really. As a scholar of Beatle-U, I know there are really four different bands called the Beatles.

1. The first was the band that landed on America's shores in 1964, shortly after JKF was killed. Dressed in black suits, and with matching shaggy hair cuts...this band wrote catchy little diddies about love (yeah, yeah, yeah). Clearly, this band was talented, but they were very young and fankly, under the close control of older, more seasoned music people. This band is amazing, because not only were they able to "break" into the American music scene(somewhat unheard of at the time) they were able to consistantly turn out those his (and in such a short amount of time! "A Hard Day's Night" was written in hours).

2. The second band, known as The Beatles were older and more experianced. They'd made two motion pictures...and started hanging out with Bob Dylan. A little jealous of the fact that Dylan's songs were complex, and about more more than puppy love, this band started experimenting with both drugs and the sounds they could make in the studio. In the space of two albums ("Rubber Soul" and then to "Revolver") this Beatle-band left behind the boy band image for good.

3. The third Beatles went to India, did LCD, got married (and divorced), and started clawing at each other's egos. The cohesion began to fall apart. "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Heart's Club Band" is really split in half: Paul and John's show. A and B. From here they pushed the limits of psych. drugs (and music) and made the "balls-to-the-walls" tragically disliked "Magical Mystery Tour." The album is good, the TV movie...while poorly recieved at the time invented music videos as we know them today. "The Beatles" (also know as "The White Album") is an excellent collection of songs written and performed by the members of The Beatles...but is not really a true Beatles record. I mean, it is, but it isn't (often only one Beatle would write, record, and perform on a track). There were exceptions, and this certainly wasn't a bad thing. George and Ringo got to come out and shine. "Let it Be" was the end. Everyone quit the band...

4. The fourth and last band known as The Beatles was a group of friends who, sensing their time together was nearly over, got together and made one last great record. Sure, there was fighting, but there was compromise too. John would later get sued because he borrowed a little in "Come Together." The second half of the record was a collection of unfinished songs all strung together. And yet, this is probably my favorite incarnation of the band (and my favorite record). Why? I hate it when things are left hanging, or unfinished. I don't like saying goodbye, but I hate it even more when I'm not given the chance. All too often, in life, we have last meetings and we don't even realize it. We walk away, not saying the things we really should say...because we think we're going to have another chance. There's always tomorrow, right? Not always. The Beatles knew they were done, but rather than part the world with an album they considered "un-releaseable" ("Let it Be") they came together one last time. The final tracks say it all. "The End" is such a good song for so many reasons. The lyrics are great, a final message in a bottle for humanity. You only get what you give. The music is also good, I like the fact that every one of them gets an instrumental solo. The final bow. And then, just when you think the record is over, that you will never see your best friend again...they tack on the cheeky "Her Majesty." Perfect.

Burnout.

I am getting so burned out. School in general is really dragging me down. Between not being able to graduate sooner, to one of my English teachers getting pissy with me...to Spanish (do I need to say anything more?). What a mess. I thought this was going to be a 4.0 semester, but I'm sorry to say I'm looking at 2 A's and 2 B's. Crap. What a disappointment. My major is also starting to bother me. I hate how my classes consist of reading a text, listening to someone tell me what they think it's about, and then write a paper/take a test telling them what THEIR opinion is...all the while trying to pass it off as my own. What a bunch of fucking phonies. Holden Calufield was right. God damn, is this place full of phonies. Lying 1001, that's what I'm learning right now.

Ugh, it's not as bad as I'm making it out to be. I'm really lucky, just to get a chance to be here, but...blah, blah, blah-blah, blah. All of the passion, love, and joy is sucked out literature by these people. All the creativity, imagination, and free thought is vacuumed out. Anyway, if you see me and I look like crap, it's because I'm a big ball of stress. Only two weeks left. One week of classes.

Ringleader of the Tormentors

The new Morrissey album is fantastic. I have a little bit of downtime right now, and I'm listening to it. "Ringleader of the Tormentors" is good, rainy-day, pissed off music. The Moz is always good for a quick pick-me-up. Feelin' depressed? Nah, you're a ray of sunshine compared to Morrissey. I think there's a certain healing factor about his music. Kinda like Jerry Springer. You think YOU have problems, just wait and see what's going on over here...

I think it's funny both the CIA and MI6 have a file on him. Like he's going to kill anybody? Please, the guy's clearly a fruit. Besides, he's too depressed to pick up a gun.

Favorite Moz Moment: "You Have Killed Me" because he's just so freakin' pathetic. The guy's heart is superglued to his bloody sleeves (plus come on, who doesn't like a song that's also a list of Italian Film directors?). And then there's "I Will See You In Far Off Places" which many contend is addressed to Osama Bin Laden (the jury is still out for me...just because someone makes a Middle Eastern record doesn't mean they're talking to the world's #1 terrorist). Whoever he's singing to, the Moz man plans on seeing them in hell. Also, "The Youngest Was the Most Loved" because I'm the oldest and I like the chorus 'there is no such life in life as normal.' But my new favorite has to be "To Me You Are a Work of Art" which goes:

I live a life
I feel the pain
To sing this song
To tell the tale
I wish I never even heard the song
I see the world
It makes me puke
But then I look at you and know
That somewhere there’s a someone who can soothe me

To me you are a work of art
And I would give you my heart
That’s if I had one

I see the world
It makes me puke
But then I look at you and know
That somewhere there’s a someone who can soothe me

To me you are a work of art
And I would give you my heart
That’s if I had one, had one

To me you are a work of art
And I would give you my heart
That’s if I had one


If this guy wasn't so rich, I'd be half tempted to fly to London and help him get laid...cos I'm pretty sure that's all this guy needs. Then again, why would I want to do that? Ending his misery would probably ruin his career (well worse than the job of that he's doing by himself).

Man Ip's You Lation

Pseudo-intellects squeeze the minds of others, trying to get what they want like normal people make lemonade. People's brain's aren't lemons, so why use the vice-grip of manipulation? Clearly, there is a lack of trust in this world. To compensate for this, some resort for mind games. Head trips with no good destination. What possess people to perpetuate principals such as this? A blind man is one who cannot see, regardless of the condition of his eyes. What's "hidden" in plain sight is usually the reality these manipulators refuse to see. Why? Because it doesn't fit into their worldview. See the world, and the people in it, for what they are...at face value. That's usually their correct market worth.

Save the lemons for squeezing, and peoples minds for thinking.

John's "Lost Weekend"

Sometime in the late '70s, John Lennon and Yoko Ono broke up. I forget why exactly, but I'm sure it was because he was an egotistical ass (he was). This time in his life/career his known as his "lost weekend." It wasn't really a weekend, it was actually several years. It's known as his lost weekend, though, because during this period all John did was party and try to forget Yoko. He got pretty fucked up, if I remember correctly. He recorded a bunch of mediocre albums..."Walls and Bridges," and that one his label (and the courts) made him do of '50s covers. I'm also pretty sure he had sex with Elton John during this time (they did a couple of songs together...and well...there has always been rumors that John tried that sort of thing...at least once with Brain Epstien). Dark, scary times.

Of course, John and Yoko got back together and became Johnandyoko again. People were so pissed off. He pretty much dropped off the face of the Earth and became a stay at home dad. The year he died, he and Yoko did their last album "Double Fantasy," which despite what my Mom would say...is pretty crappy. His half is listenable, but very sappy and sentimental. "(Just Like) Starting Over" is good though. I'm not sure what the lesson here is. I do know that when he died, he was happy because he was back where he belonged, with Yoko.


Our life together is so precious together
We have grown, we have grown
Although our love is still special
Let's take a chance and fly away somewhere alone

It's been too long since we took the time
No-one's to blame, I know time flies so quickly
But when I see you darling
It's like we both are falling in love again
It'll be just like starting over, starting over

Everyday we used to make it love
Why can't we be making love nice and easy
It's time to spread our wings and fly
Don't let another day go by my love
It'll be just like starting over, starting over

Why don't we take off alone
Take a trip somewhere far, far away
We'll be together all alone again
Like we used to in the early days
Well, well, well darling

It's been too long since we took the time
No-one's to blame, I know time flies so quickly
But when I see you darling
It's like we both are falling in love again
It'll be just like starting over, starting over

Our life together is so precious together
We have grown, we have grown
Although our love is still special
Let's take a chance and fly away somewhere

Starting over

Life is a Solitaire Game

I've been playing Solitaire for a while now, and I guess I like it enough. The only thing I don't like about it, though, is that for the most part...it's a game you rarely can win. I think that says a lot about people, whether or not they play Solitaire or not. Why do we play games where the odds are so horribly stacked against us? What's the point in subjecting ourselves to something like that? It's a just another heartache, that's all it is.

Nine times out of ten I end up losing. Usually I know I've lost within the first few moves (or lack of moves). So why play it? Because it's there I guess. It's one of those standard programs, designed to divert us. PC's and MAC's all come with it, I think it's pretty much a Federal Law to include it...

People pretty much are masochists. I know I am.

Learning

"That is what learning is you suddenly understand something you
understood all your life; but in a new way" ~unknown

That is not what learning is. Learning is light in the darkness. Learning is oxygen rushing into a vaccum. Something from nothing, that's learning. It's not understanding what you already know. When people are born, they are a blank page. Learning is the type written there upon.

My Funeral

We are all mortal. Someday, we will all die. Morbid, but true. Now I don't want to rush things...BUT! In the unlikely event that I do not outlive you all (and get to wallow in self pity) this is what I want my funeral to be like. Please, no diviations:

I want a serivce, but not a Christian, Muslim, or Jewish one...something non-demominational. Universal. I want an elephant and hula girls. I want to be cremated (naturally) and my urn placed on a mantel somewhere, maybe Lindsey's house. All of my Earthly possessions are to sold, the profits to which should go to a charity (not any of the ones that are currently sending me junk mail). In fact, scratch that...I want the money to be a prize for a literary contest: The Jason Wendleton Memorial Literary Contest. Short fiction only, please, none of that poetry crap. Whatever money you get should be split into three, for the first, second, third prize winners to enjoy.

Okay, about the service...after my Universal service I want "Stairway to Heaven" to be played. THEN, I want the B-Side of The Beatles "Abbey Road" to be played. Everyone has to sit there. Now, just to help you out...the B-Side starts at "You Never Give Me Your Money" and ends at "The End." Once that parts over (and the coda "Her Majesty" is over too) everyone can go home.

I want these instructions to be carried out, because you know I'd do it for you.

REM was right...

So last night I saw something really freaky on iTUNES (never thought I'd say that). It was a free trailer for Al Gore's new movie/documentary "An Inconvient Truth." It's about global warming. How real is global warming? I think there is no denying the fact that things on planet Earth are getting hectic and frantic and scary and freaky.

When I was a kid, it was a rare event when we had hail. Now, in my native Kansas City, they seem to have it every time it rains. And it's big hail too, not this little pea sized stuff. My Dad showed me a bucket of golf ball eggs that flew from the sky. Terribly freaky. Then there was last Summer's Katrina. What will this summer hold for the Hurricane season? God only knows.

Every since human industrialization, however, it's been a smoggy place. I went to Chicago this past Janurary and I couldn't believe how dirty it was. Very nasty, the big city is. Imagine what New York must be like! Too many cars on the road...that's why I try to walk as much as I can. I can do that because I live on campus, duh. I read a report on the internet a few days ago about how Americans are "abandoing the big cities." Crime and pollution being the chief cause. I think that this is only going to make things worse though. People need to start living CLOSER to where they work, not further away!!! I thought the price of gas would fix that thinking. Oh well, I guess people will learn the hard way.

People in government don't take this stuff seriously because:

1. They aren't scientists
2. They owe their offices to big business (the people doing the polluting)
3. They are so old, they figure the problems won't start until they are dead.

This stuff is going to happen sooner or later...I hope it'll be later than sooner, but eventually somebody's going to have to deal with the mess we've made.

Like a Banana

I got this trucker's sunburn over the weekend...it was just beat red...now, I'm afraid it's quite gross and peeling. Peeling like a banana, I'd post a pic, but I don't want to make anyone throw up!

SO, what's the lesson here kiddies? Don't stick your arm out the window while you drive...unless you have a good SPF on.

Important, life lessons...from Tylor Durden

You can make napalm by mixing equal parts gasoline and frozen orange juice. You can also make plastic explosives by mixing gasoline with cat litter, you add a little at a time until the mixture has a nice, play dough-like consistancy.

Maybe I should have done "To Kill A Mocking Bird..."

So for the last paper of my Practical Criticism class our teacher gave us a list of four books (turned into movies) that we could choose to read and watch...and then write about. The list was really passe, normal, safe stuff. Then this wise ass pitched a fit about fucking "Harry Potter" and got "Fight Club" added to the list. Having recently re-acquiring both my copy of "To Kill a Mocking Bird" and "Fight Club" I had two clear choices. I chose "Fight Club" (FB) because, as much as I love TKAMB, it's been done...to death. I'm done writing about this book. It's good, don't get me wrong, but I'm done. Had a really well intentioned High School English teacher turned that book into a four month lesson. Four months. I'm done with it.

I just started re-reading "Fight Club" and I'm starting to question my decision. For one thing, I'm in a weird place mentally right now. I'm trying to get over some of my more...self destructive tendencies. "Fight Club" is not a feel-good, pick me up type story. The book is nihlistic to the Nth degree. And then some.

Then, like an idiot, I left the stupid DVD at home. So much for saving money, right? I think I can handle this, though, because a guy I'm friendly with in class is doing it too and has the movie. I'll either borrow it or arrange a viewing somehomw. Anyway, I'm more worried about what it'll do to my mood and thinking. I'm a big boy, I'm sure I can handle it...but damn is it a messed up book. People think movies and video games are so bad...terrible, mind rotting vessles of ugliness. I'm not saying they aren't, but the mental connection a well written book can form with the reader and the author is far more powerful. The mind is a wonderful sandbox, you can do anything there. Anything. Even slip slowly into maddness because you a book tells you it's the only way out of your problems.

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Monday Manuscript

I'm really tired. I stayed up late last night, reading and coming down from my trip home. So I'm not really all here, if ya get my drift.

I realized that I forgot to leave a copy of my novel-in-progress with anybody before I took off...so as soon as I write this post I'm going to go email it off to bunch of people. But, as a side note to my manuscript let me just say:

1. It's a work in progress. I think I know where it's going but nothing is certain. Obviously there are some errors/typos I haven't caught yet.

2. I'm writing in the first person (something I hate doing). I don't know why, but for some reason that's how it started, and that's how it's going to end. The main character IS NOT ME! There is no symbolisim in the story, so I hope no one freaks out.

3. It's what I like to call a "popcorn" story. In other words, I know it's not Shakespeare or "Citizen Kane." I'm saving that for book two (when I have a book deal I can piss away on making a broad statement nobody wants to hear).

4. Did I mention it's not finished?

I hate this beacuse I don't no anyone who will be honest with me. I think people want to encourage me, and will say anything. At the same time, I really don't want to hear my ideas are crap from the people I know and love. Which makes this all very difficult. I have different sensiblities than most of the people I'm really close with, so I worry people won't "get it."

Anyway, my story started out a murder-revenge story and quickly changed into something else. Partly because I wanted to write a "journey" or "traveling" type story because I like those. I also like "quests." I sat and watched the first part of the Lord of the Rings with my folks this weekend, and I remembered how much I enjoy those movies. I can't write fantasy...everything comes out LOTR's. Anyway, my journey story became bent into a rather personal quest for me! (of all things). I want to explore my own spiritual beliefs, so that's what I'm doing. Beneath the thin layer (or maybe it's not that thin) are what passes for my beliefs on life and death. Do I think this story is an accurate portrayal of the after life? No, but the story is a vehicle for me to think about some of the "big" questions.

I'm afraid I'm only into the fifth chapter (which is really the sixth, because I wrote a short Prologue). I didn't get a chance to work on it over the Easter weekend, because, frankly I was too tired from driving and spending time with everyone. I was going to work on it today, but I think I'll wait until I get some feedback from people.

Well, that's all I wanted to say about that. If I don't hear from anyone I'm going to bug them this weekend!

Missing records, long novellas, AS, and stayin' up all night

Okay, so I'm back in St. Louis. Boy did I step into it...shit that is. I have a "short" novella to read (Oronooko). That's kinda a stupid thing to say, isn't it? A short novella. A novella is a short novel, but a long story. So a short novella is really just a short story. This thing is a novella (about 70 pages). It's a tideous, Reformation era slave story. I wish this was the worst of my problems, but see, it's not.

Adult Swim is really starting to piss me off. I wrote Cartoon Network over the weekend because on Monday at 12AM they're going to start showing that old '80s show "Saved by the Bell" (which besides sucking the big one, IS NOT A CARTOON). Everyone on the net is buzzing (ie. pissed off) about this development. I think, deep down, that this is all just a sick joke. No way are they going to show that shit. No way could they be so uncool.

Okay, so I'm also upsest because I've missplaced 1/2 of one of the greatest records ever. The Beatles "White Album." My parents evil house has eaten it. I'm not too upset, because I still have in on vinyl...but how long before that copy is gone too? I have so much reading to do...it's not even funny.

I also have a shit load of work to do this week. Spanish, papers to write, more reading. I'm sad that I'm going to be done with this year...but at the same time...part of me can't wait to be done with this so I can sit back and sleep on the job again in KC.

Here's hoping.

...Back in the Saddle Again...

So it's Easter morning (really freakin' early) and I can't sleep. I feel weird being at home, I can't say I like it. I know that in about a month I'm going to be back at my old job, plugging away. And it makes me sad. I wish I was staying out in St. Louis, going to school. But the lazy days of the rest of the year must give way to the dog days of summer. Or something like that.

It's supposed to rain like cats and dogs tomorrow in St. Louis...right around the time I plan on getting back into town. G-R-E-A-T. I'm going to have a nice, quiet Easter dinner...then jump into my newly cleaned car (see? I did do something this weekend) and make a bee line for home. Or, at least, my home for the next four weeks.

The pressure is on boy! What are you going to do? Fucking choke most likely. Then I get to go to Nashville (second time in six months yay!) and after that it's going to be KC for the summer. I can't say that I'm too upset, I'm thinking about requesting one of the harder, more physically intense positions to get into shape (since I'm too cheap to buy a gym memebership). Can you imagine me on a Segway? It could happen (though I doubt it, they know me pretty well down there...I tend to drive things a little to...hard).

I really should cool it.

Back in the saddle again

So I'm about to take a long car trip home. That'll do me some good (I hope). I'm going to try really hard to stay out of trouble until I get back. Wish me luck.

"Right, wrong, what to do someday It will come to you..."

I've got nothing to say.

Don't be a coconut, this page started out as a writing exercise. A way to prompt myself into writing everyday (like my Uncle Stevie suggested in his book "On Writing"). It's a place where I rant and write. I've been trying to keep emotion out of it, even though I have strong feelings on the subject. Don't (anyone) make this personal. If it bothers you, don't read it.

How many times have you thought something you don't mean? Well just consider this blog an extension of my thought process. Why? Because that's what it is. Just another mental appendage, a set of extra muscles to flex. You know what? It's not even that complicated, it's not extra muscle, it's a dumbell. I pick it up to build strength. Think about it like that, so you can sleep easier. Someone should be sleeping easier after all.

If you're reading this, and you think I'm addressing you...then I probably am. Don't take this all so seriously. I'm fine. This is fine, it's healthy. You should try it sometime, you might even like it. You can get a blog (they're free) and you can even make it private. I don't make it private because I'm an exhobitionist. Like a desert house with no fucking blinds. Come one, come all take a peek inside my head. If it causes problems I guess I could go and pick up some cortinas (curtains).

Me llamo Jason. Me gusta escribir y escuchar musica.

"What if this is as good as it gets?"

It's nearly 2AM and I'm still up. I haven't been sleeping much lately. I'm not going to say I have insomina, it's nothing that serious...I just don't seem to want the days to end. Class, library, gym, dorm room. Repeat. Repeat. I didn't work on my novel today (I still feel stupid saying I'm working on a novel). I went to class, called some people, went to the library.

I watched "As Good As It Gets," I really like that movie. Brilliant, gem of a film. I think part of what's wrong with me is that I don't have enough beliefs. Not enough convictions to stand on. I do have one belief: I believe that every single person has within them the capability to make something great. Create something great. It's different for everybody. That one hit, hiding inside the one hit wonder. Have you found your one hit? Your "My Sharona" (or if you're really twisted, "My Bologna").

Madness and greatness are separated by a line life of achievement. That's what they say, atleast. How many people walk around, never realizing their full potential? And how many C students become President? The whole thing is really quite sad. The guy bagging your groceries, the woman cutting your hair--maybe Walt Whitman is sacking at Hy-Vee. I'm not talking about fame or money, I'm talking about realizing a level of greatness beyond the norm. And I think we're all able to do it. The question is not a matter of ability...but faith. Do you have faith in yourself? Are you smart enough to see your strengths as well as your weaknesses?

There is an easy road. TV, sex, drugs, international politics...These are the things that will distract you. Take you in a direction contrary to the one you need to be going in. Media fear cripples us into our personal prisons of mediocrity. Money is a drug just as addictive as crack, let me assure you. Have no illusions, the Capitalist society we live in hangs a yoke on our necks the second we're born. I'm constantly finding myself wanting things I know I don't need. It's sad, because I'm not even that materialistic...not like some people. When I work out, I listen to music...but there are TV's. TV's that show channels I don't normally watch. BET is full of all sorts of nasty brainwashing, MTV too. Diamonds, cars, women with fake tits. Growing up kids think they need to have these things to be whole, complete, successful people.

I think that in a perfect world, I'd be a Communist. Not like Lenin, but Lennon. But even that's just another impossibility that only really detracts from the problems at hand. I was joking around with someone, a friend of mine, a few days ago. I asked if I ran for Governor, would they vote for me? Of course, was their reply. Unless of course my opponent was a Christian. Religion is another story all together. The comment took me by surprise. Not because I didn't know people actually thought like this--I knew they did. I guess it was just really disheartening. Someone with good ideas is screwed unless they fit into a round hole. Revelations says that the Anti-Christ will know the Bible forwards and backwards. He'll speak the Holy Scriptures like a Priest or Pastor. Why does this not bother people? All systems of control can be corrupted, especially because a really smart evil person will be able to use it to his/her advantage. That's why some of the worst criminals are lawyers...they know the rules inside and out. They can figure loop holes, stretching and bending the constructions to do their bidding.

So, as part of my new "what do are my beliefs" quest I've decided that I believe everyone is capable of fantastically great things (even if it's only one thing), and that I will never, ever be a religious person. Spiritual, yes. But I cannot, and will not subscribe to any organizations. I don't want to know the intricate rules and pieces. These machines, Bible, Torah, Koran...they're human machines. Marvels, yes, but they are products of a human mind. The world should be people's Holy text. The people we meet are the words upon it's page.

This week, I had to read Frederick Douglas's "Slave Narrative." Shortly after he learned to read, Douglas became very depressed. With his newly acquired knowledge, Douglass found himself depressed. He could read the newpapers, he knew that the life he had was not only cruel but unnecessary. At one point, he envied the other slaves around him. He envied the bliss of their ignorance. I feel like that sometimes. I wish sometimes I bought the general notions of popular Religion. I wish I could be happy working in a cubicle. I envy people that can marry their high school sweethearts.

Anyway, this has nothing to do with anything probably. I bet these thoughts make me sound condescending, but it's just how I feel. I don't look down on anyone...I just see that the road I'm walking on (out of my own nature) is different than most people.

ZZzzzzz.....

The Devil's Radio

Devil's Radio
By George Harrison

Gossip, gossip
Gossip, gossip

I heard it in the night
Words that thoughtless speak
Like vultures swooping down below
On the devil's radio

I hear it through the day
Airwaves gettin' filled
With gossip broadcast to and fro
On the devil's radio

Oh yeah, gossip
Gossip, oh yeah

He's in the clubs and bars
And never turns it down
Talking about what he don't know
On the devil's radio

He's in your TV set
Won't give it a rest
That soul betraying so and so
The devil's radio

Gossip, gossip
Gossip, gossip
(Oh yeah) gossip, (gossip) oh yeah
(Gossip) oh yeah, (oh yeah) gossip

It's white and black like industrial waste
Pollution of the highest degree
You wonder why I don't hang out much
I wonder how you can't see

He's in the films and songs
And on all your magazines
It's everywhere that you may go
The devil's radio

Oh yeah, gossip
Gossip, oh yeah

Runs thick and fast, no one really sees
Quite what bad it can do
As it shapes you into something cold
Like an Eskimo igloo

It's all across our lives
Like a weed it's spread
'till nothing else has space to grow
The devil's radio

Can creep up in the dark
Make us hide behind shades
And buzzing like a dynamo
The devil's radio

(Gossip) oh yeah, (gossip) oh yeah
(Gossip) gossip, (gossip) gossip
Oh yeah, gossip I heard you on Satan's wireless
Gossip, oh yeah You know the devil's radio, child
Gossip, gossip
Gossip, gossip


So I happened upon this story, about a company banning gossip. It's a problem on the job. My last job (last real job) was really bad about it. What's so weird about it was who I was working with: mostly old men. How's that strike you? That's all we used to do, shoot the shit and talk about who did what (and the like). It's a disease. It really is. Maybe it was the idle hands...but I've never worked in an environment where gossip was so pronounced. Me and my buddy would get caught up in rumors (chasing the rumor mill like the Man from La Mancha). Anyway, good luck to them in trying to ban it. Can't happen, won't happen. Maybe if the people were all labotmized or something. I'm sure it effects productivity and workplace happiness, but how can something so intangible and subjective be banned? What constitues gossip anyway? A lot of the things we say are unproven, unjustified, and unfair. You can't tell people not to fraternize, becuase that's human nature too. You can't ban workplace friends (and enemies) can you? From the sound of the article, it seems there are two main offenders...I suspect this is an attempt to get rid of them. I also predict these people will hire a lawyer, and probably never have to work again. That's justice for ya? Right?

http://www.fayettevillenc.com/article?id=230702

What a novel idea

Okay, now I'm freaking out...so I have this thing I've been writing and now I people are going to want to read it...ugh...I hate that. It's a stupid popcorn novel. At least that how it started, but after examining it today I see that I'm injecting a lot of my personal spiritual beliefs in it...

I just need to get the first one out, that one's usually crap...then I can move on. Don't get me wrong, I believe in it...but it's really just something I'm doing for me. Ya dig? Anyway, here's why I'm worried people who read it might think I'm batty:

The protagonist (with no name) dies on like the second page. The meat of the story is a spiritual journey which questions the nature of "good" and "evil." It's a metaphysical landscape so nothing makes sense. I just hope people "get it."

Anyway, I guess I won't worry about it.

Happy 10,000

I have good news (for once). Today, at 7:26 PM, I crossed the dreaded 10,000 word mark on my new novel. It's only the first 40 pages, no real reason to celebrate, but I've only accomplished this feat twice before...so yeah, I'm real excited. I started working on this thing LAST WEEK, when I suddenly aquired some free time. Since I only have one class tomorrow, as soon as I got out of class today (my last class didn't meet) I printed out what I had and started editing. Usually I find my enthusiasm dies once I re-read what it is I've written, but so far...so good. I've really been pouring myself into this and I think that this might (might) finally be something I'm able to finish!

I get excited by these things, and usually abandon them because I get so busy doing something else. So, to everyone and anyone who reads this...if something should ever happen to me--I have a request...FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD AND RIGHT IN THIS WORLD...PLEASE FINISH ONE OF THESE DAMN MANUSCRIPTS FOR ME! I WILL NEVER "REST IN PEACE" UNTIL I HAVE A COMPLETED NOVEL. I DON'T EVEN CARE IF IT NEVER GETS PUBLISHED. YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE TO DO ANY WORK...JUST TYPE "THE END" ON THE LAST PAGE I WAS WORKING ON.

Thanks!

The Last Word

This is the last thing I have to say about everything:

I'm sorry I let everyone down, and I'm sorry I'm such a fuck up. I'm imature and selfish. At the same time, I think it's really hypocritical for a parent to encourage one child to end a long term relationship and at the same time get pissed off/angry/whatever when another child does just that (6 months is 1/2 a year by the way).

I can't be all things to all people. Deal with it, that's what I'm trying to do.

Come Undone

So unimpressed but so in awe
Such a saint but such a whore
So self aware so full of shit
So indecisive so adamant
I’m contemplating thinking about thinking
It’s so frustrating just get another drink in
Watch me come undone

They’re selling razor blades and mirrors in the street
I Pray that when I’m coming down you’ll be asleep
If I ever hurt you your revenge will be so sweet
Because I’m scum
And I’m your son
I come undone
I come undone

So rock and roll so corporate suit
So damn ugly, so damn cute
So well trained, so animal
So need your love, so fuck you all
I’m not scared of dying I just don’t want to
If I stopped lying I’d just disappoint you
I come undone

They’re selling razor blades and mirrors in the street
I pray that when I’m coming down you’ll be asleep
If I ever hurt you your revenge will be so sweet
Because I’m scum
And I’m your son
I’ve come undone
So write another ballad
Mix it on a wednesday
Sell it on a thursday
Buy a yacht by saturday
It’s a love song
A love song
Do another interview
Sing a bunch of lies
Tell about celebrities that I despise
And sing love songs
We sing love songs
So sincere
So sincere

They’re selling razor blades and mirrors in the street
Pray that when I’m coming down you’ll be asleep
If I ever hurt you your revenge will be so sweet
Because I’m scum
I’m your sonI’ve come undone
I’ve come undone
I’ve come undone
I’ve come undone
I am scum
Love your son
I am scum
Love your sonYou’ve gotta love my sad song, my love song
My sad song, my love song, my sad song, my love song

Bill Clinton Syndrome

Alright, I just had a seriously weird phone call with my Mom. It's pretty bad when your Mom thinks you're no good. I am no good. I have a disease. It's called "Bill Clinton Syndrome." I can't help it...this is the way I was made. "I feel your pain" Bill...I really do. I wish I was Catholic...then I could just run away and become a priest. I've been trying to figure God out, really I have. But then I had a certain person (no names) who kept purposefully steering me away from that (out of her own self interest). I need to get on my knees, start praying. Hallelujah, amen.

Even now, my old pattern...it's happening. I have to stop, right now. This cycle of destruction and immorality...its a real bitch. I can't sleep. I don't eat. I've been chain smoking. My nerves are shot to hell (sorry). I can't think.

What would Bill do? Ah, run for public office...no. That's the last thing I need. Literally, the very last, honest to goodness...LAST fucking thing I need right now. At least I didn't cheat! I could have damn it! I may be a gutless coward, but I'm not cheating SOB. I think I have an idea, and inkling as to what the cure is. I'm afraid to say it, but I think I need to swear women off for good. I don't care if people do whisper, and think I'm a closet case...I'm gonna do it! I am! No more...no more...no more women. Why is that so hard to type? Man, could you imagine if I WAS goodlooking. Please, forget about it.

Alright, I'm done ranting and raving...and I hope...done with skits (la folda) for good! I'm serious! Until I can look my mother in the eye...no more!

Magician

Well kiddies, it seems your old pal Jason is nothing but a really good actor, a charlton, a stooge, and a scoundrel. Did we learn anything this week that we didn't already know? No, not really. I'm an oversexed, zelous, hypocrite...who lusts for more than gold (if ya get my drift). It's a low down, dirty shame. It's a goddam crime. The crime of the century. The only thing I can say for the moment is that I don't have a single regret. I can't , or won't admit to making a mistake because I can't do something against my nature. Sorry kiddies, but uncle Jason can't say "fuck up" without laughing.

I pray to God there is a hell. And I pray to God I go there...soon.

Hemingway

Hemingway was quite honestly one of the baddest MOFO's of the 20th Century. Here's why...

Dodging Smallpox
While working as a reporter for the Kansas City Star in 1917 and '18, Hemingway hones his spare writing style while covering marginal characters for the paper. He saves one of his subjects -- a smallpox-stricken homeless man -- by dragging him to the hospital when no one else will. He later charges the expenses for this rescue mission to the Star. The deadly pox doesn't take hold.

Surviving a Shelling
Hemingway is wounded in a mortar attack as he distributes chocolate and cigarettes to Italian soldiers in the trenches during World War I. He becomes soaked with blood as he carries a soldier to the first-aid station. In a letter home, he writes that they pulled 227 shrapnel fragments out of his leg and that he'll never again "look well in kilts."

Weird Hemingway Moment #23
For the first 3 years of his life, Hemingway's parents clothed him in pretty dresses and hair ribbons. The " 'fraid o' nothin' " kid worried that Santa might think he was a girl and bring the wrong presents. One of his biographers, James Mellow, lets him off easy: "Hemingway seems not to have suffered any dire psychological effect from the early cross-dressing."

Machine-Gunning Mako Sharks
During a 1931 fishing trip on his boat, the Pilar, Hemingway uses a Thompson submachine gun to fend off sharks intent on scavenging his catch -- a 500-pound tuna -- before he can hoist it onto the boat. He ends up shooting himself in both legs trying to sink a man-size mako.

Slugging Orson Welles
At a 1937 screening of the film Spanish Earth, for which Hemingway cowrote the narration, he comes to blows with the narrator, Orson Welles, because Welles wants to change some of the lines. After throwing chairs and punches in front of the crowd, the two reconcile over a bottle of whiskey.

Weird Hemingway Moment #57
Roald Dahl, kid-lit author, visited Hemingway in London during World War II. When Dahl entered his hotel room, he found Hemingway applying hair-growth elixir. The following conversation ensued:DAHL: "Why the eyedropper, Ernest?"HEMINGWAY: "To get the stuff through the hair and onto the scalp."DAHL: "But you don't have much hair to get through."HEMINGWAY: "I have enough."

Spying on Fascists
Hemingway establishes the "crook factory" in Key West, a clandestine outfit whose mission is to spy on pro-Franco and pro-Hitler agents in Cuba. The operation, which at one point consists of six full-time operatives and 20 other agents, is disbanded by the FBI less than a year after it is formed.

Chasing Nazi U-boats
After outfitting the Pilar with extra fuel tanks, grenades, and high-caliber machine guns, Hemingway and a few buddies set out to hunt Nazi U-boats in the Caribbean. It's mostly an excuse to drink to excess and employ large munitions, but that's why it's great to be Ernest Hemingway.

Weird Hemingway Moment #82
Traveling in Africa in the 1950s, Hemingway took a Masai bride while his fourth wife, Mary, was off shopping in Nairobi. A few days after Mary's return, he wrote in her diary, by way of making up: "[Mary] loves me to be her girl, which I love to be. . . . I loved feeling the embrace of Mary which came to me as something quite new and outside of tribal law." To which you can only respond, "Whoa, T.M.I."

Mixing Martinis under Fire
Hemingway is driving with a few buddies on a road near Luxembourg in 1944 when he hears the ripping sound of aircraft fire. He yells, "Jump!" and his friends fly out of the car just as it's strafed down the middle by a machine gun. While they huddle in a ditch, Hemingway uncorks his canteen to distribute premixed martinis.

Walking Away from Plane Wrecks
Touring Uganda by plane in 1954, Hemingway crash-lands when his pilot nips a telegraph wire. Twenty-four hours later, his rescue plane also crashes. Hemingway's legend grows, but the man himself doesn't fare so well. A ruptured kidney, crushed vertebrae, brain damage, and chronic pain haunt him until his death.





All this, and in 1961 he decided to kill himself...honsetly, I think it was the only way he'd have ever died. The man was a real life superhero.