Smoke: The TV may have told you how mean the fires and smoke are being to people where I live. It's true. Example:
I was skipping to work today, bag lunch in one hand and flowers in the other, when a wisp of smoke tapped me on the lung. "Hey Harry," it wispered. "Whatcha got in that lunch bag?"
"Oh, just a tuna sandwich and some Gushers," says me. "I made the tuna just like my mom does!"
"Really?" said smoke. "You mean your DUMB mom!"
"Hey! What'd ya say that fer? My mom is smart!"
"My mistake. I just figured she had to be dumb seeing how STUPID you are!"
"Waaaaah! Why why why?"
"I know how much you like to eat your tuna with a cool glass of fizzy-pop, so give me the money you were gonna buy the fizzy-pop with!"
"Noooooooo! Help me someone! Anyone!"
But with that the smoke was gone. I opened my wallet in search of the five and dime I was gonna use to buy a fizzy-pop. Gone. Replaced with a note:
I'm mean. - Smoke.
PS Look at your flowers. They're dead.
Reruns: What's the last thing you ever want to hear when driving through the smokey countryside? A BBC News repeat on the radio of course! This is the second night in a row that I have heard stories of Australian opal farmers and Indian "short-people" clubs (you have to be 4 ft. 6 in. to join). They're nice stories, but I think we all know that once you've heard one opal-farming story, you've heard 'em all.
Except for the one about about the opal-farmer that beat up the smoke bully.
Friday, September 30, 2005
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Imaginary Lines
In case the cow has yet to moo it to you, I have changed this blog's name to Imaginary Lines. The new title succeeds in four different areas:
1. Pretention - Because "imaginary lines" are less physical than their predecessor "political pasta," they are inevitably more pretentious as well. It is a one-to-one relationship. (Unlike the one half-to-one relationship that is now the Kutcher family! Badump-ching!)
2. Legality - Apparently there is actually a product called political pasta. Now, I don't mind a good legal battle for the sake of Old Lady Justice, but I will not waste my life standing in court next to a lawyer representing a pasta company.*
3. Vonnegutia - I have now tied myself more closely to my literary hero, Kurt Vonnegut. The subtitle of this "webbery" (the new word for "blog") is a quote from Vonnegut's Mother Night, an excellent book which all can enjoy, learn from, and plant to grow more books. Whereas this connection has no real significance considering Mr. Vonnegut and I have never met, I can now imagine myself somehow connected to him. Eh? Eh?
4. Geometry - Lines are geometrical.
(*Editor's Note: In the year 2045, Harry actually did find himself fighting for his freedom in the Dakota State Supreme Court case Rigatoni v. Brammer. The case was dismissed when nine out of ten scientists agreed that pasta was not yet sentient enough to be considered a rape victim.
1. Pretention - Because "imaginary lines" are less physical than their predecessor "political pasta," they are inevitably more pretentious as well. It is a one-to-one relationship. (Unlike the one half-to-one relationship that is now the Kutcher family! Badump-ching!)
2. Legality - Apparently there is actually a product called political pasta. Now, I don't mind a good legal battle for the sake of Old Lady Justice, but I will not waste my life standing in court next to a lawyer representing a pasta company.*
3. Vonnegutia - I have now tied myself more closely to my literary hero, Kurt Vonnegut. The subtitle of this "webbery" (the new word for "blog") is a quote from Vonnegut's Mother Night, an excellent book which all can enjoy, learn from, and plant to grow more books. Whereas this connection has no real significance considering Mr. Vonnegut and I have never met, I can now imagine myself somehow connected to him. Eh? Eh?
4. Geometry - Lines are geometrical.
(*Editor's Note: In the year 2045, Harry actually did find himself fighting for his freedom in the Dakota State Supreme Court case Rigatoni v. Brammer. The case was dismissed when nine out of ten scientists agreed that pasta was not yet sentient enough to be considered a rape victim.
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
Rumplestiltskin
I am very confused over what exactly Rumplestiltskin was trying to accomplish by demanding that straw-spinning girl's first-born child. Was he interested in using the child to labor in some medieval chamberpot factory? Was he an incredibly lonely short-person, too lost in his own self-loathing to search for a woman who would grant him the child he truly wanted to love? Or was he just an idiot, not realising the incredible annoyance that is parenting?
I mean, come on. He'd have to pay for everything for that kid forever. (I, myself, will soon be leeching off of my family again.) And for what? So that he could live vicariously through the child? I would think that a magical elf with the power to turn straw into gold would have the means to live as he pleased.
What's that Rumpy, you wanna play on my soccer team? Well, I don't know, you kinda suck, but...what's that? You're offering me a huge pile of gold? Welcome to the team! We're going to Boston Market after the game!
My best guess is that Rumplestiltskin was a cannibal. He didn't want to have his own kid because he was afraid he would be too emotionally attached to truly enjoy the meal. So he had to conjure up a plot to get someone else's baby.
What worries me the most, though, is the following: What plot did Rumplestiltskin conjure up to acquire the salt that we all know is necessary to cook proper baby-loaf?
I mean, come on. He'd have to pay for everything for that kid forever. (I, myself, will soon be leeching off of my family again.) And for what? So that he could live vicariously through the child? I would think that a magical elf with the power to turn straw into gold would have the means to live as he pleased.
What's that Rumpy, you wanna play on my soccer team? Well, I don't know, you kinda suck, but...what's that? You're offering me a huge pile of gold? Welcome to the team! We're going to Boston Market after the game!
My best guess is that Rumplestiltskin was a cannibal. He didn't want to have his own kid because he was afraid he would be too emotionally attached to truly enjoy the meal. So he had to conjure up a plot to get someone else's baby.
What worries me the most, though, is the following: What plot did Rumplestiltskin conjure up to acquire the salt that we all know is necessary to cook proper baby-loaf?
Sunday, September 25, 2005
A Dream Village and Chris
Oftentimes of late I yearn to live the village life. It would just be me and my family and friends (and some other older and younger people I guess, so that inbreeding would be a choice rather than a necessity). We'd probably be in the mountains somewhere, with the only way to traverse being through a dangerous mountain pass that is rumored to be haunted by Captain Stan's remains. Oh and we'd have a view of the sea, as well, which explains why someone named Captain Stan could haunt the pass, but also opens the possibility to escape by the water instead of through the mountain pass. So let's just say that the water is poison to boats, so no one can get out that way. In fact, Captain Stan was the only man who knew how to build a boat to resist the poison, but he was shot by his wife when she decided he loved the sea more than her.
In any case, one of my friends in this village would be Chris. Why?
Reason one: He requested I mention him in this...ugh..."blog"... or whatever it is until I think of a less vile word...
Reason two: He is irrestibly cute. Some who know him have referred to him as muppet-like, while some who do not refer to him as "Who the f are you talking about?" He can be cuddled, cradled, and, after one too many glasses of chocolate milk, spooned.
Reason three: He is a genius. Everytime I read something he has written my head explodes. Then, before my head even has a chance to put itself together, Chris makes my head explode again. If his weapon weren't literature, he'd be a criminal, and a damn good one.
So to conclude:
Villages are where people belong if they don't want their head to explode from the complexities of modern life. Chris is where people belong if they do want their heads to explode from the subtleties of societal reflection.
In any case, one of my friends in this village would be Chris. Why?
Reason one: He requested I mention him in this...ugh..."blog"... or whatever it is until I think of a less vile word...
Reason two: He is irrestibly cute. Some who know him have referred to him as muppet-like, while some who do not refer to him as "Who the f are you talking about?" He can be cuddled, cradled, and, after one too many glasses of chocolate milk, spooned.
Reason three: He is a genius. Everytime I read something he has written my head explodes. Then, before my head even has a chance to put itself together, Chris makes my head explode again. If his weapon weren't literature, he'd be a criminal, and a damn good one.
So to conclude:
Villages are where people belong if they don't want their head to explode from the complexities of modern life. Chris is where people belong if they do want their heads to explode from the subtleties of societal reflection.
Saturday, September 24, 2005
Diamond Necklaces
My last post received the following comment:
" Anonymous said...
" Anonymous said...
Nice blog, I have a basic site about diamond necklaces if you want to check it out. I will bookmark your blog and come back every once in a while to say hi. Take Care!"
Is this to what advertising has devolved? Leaving comments in a blog that I don't think anyone has ever looked at besides me? Sad.
I remember back when advertising was fun and envigorating. you know, back when a person could stop by his/her local orphanage, pick out a cutie for a nickel a day, send 'em to a street corner, and say "Shout this phrase and hand out these papers, kid, and maybe I'll buy you an extra scoop of molasses down at the sweetery."
E-advertising, as it may be called, is perhaps the most idiotic form of advertising yet. It has no substance. no tact, no charisma, and, apparently, no common sense. Why the h would I be interested in a site about diamond necklaces? I suppose enslaving the African labor population to make said necklaces is a fun idea, and dressing like a pirate is even funner, but seriously, I'm a "straight" man, and we don't wear such tomfoolery.
So to those of you ad-bloggers who threaten to litter the world wide web with your middle school attempts at capitalism, grow up. Diamonds aren't as forever as my fist in your face.
Friday, September 23, 2005
Faith and Hope
These two words now represent more than just the best sitcom in the history of animalia: They also represent the most overused sentiments in the news right now.
As nice as it would be to hear news that could actually be constructive, the media is obsessed with beating dead horses, killing them, and roasting them into a fine stew of sorts. Stop with the "All we can do is pray" disaster stories. Tell us how to improve the future so that this praying can exist in an inevitably weather-prone environment with people who realise that their "God" or whatnot has provided them with the ability to reason and solve problems.
Sad these stories are, yes, says Yoda. And some of the stories can actually provide excellent insight into modern culture and the human condition. But tired do these stories soon get, Yoda continues. And wishing I could get a date that isn't my mom, says anonymous Star Wars fan.
That's right. I went out on a limb and called Star Wars fans nerds. But little did you know that I also made a cheap Star Wars joke so that I could now reference Episode IV: A New Hope, and tie up this little installment with a word from the title of the entry.
As nice as it would be to hear news that could actually be constructive, the media is obsessed with beating dead horses, killing them, and roasting them into a fine stew of sorts. Stop with the "All we can do is pray" disaster stories. Tell us how to improve the future so that this praying can exist in an inevitably weather-prone environment with people who realise that their "God" or whatnot has provided them with the ability to reason and solve problems.
Sad these stories are, yes, says Yoda. And some of the stories can actually provide excellent insight into modern culture and the human condition. But tired do these stories soon get, Yoda continues. And wishing I could get a date that isn't my mom, says anonymous Star Wars fan.
That's right. I went out on a limb and called Star Wars fans nerds. But little did you know that I also made a cheap Star Wars joke so that I could now reference Episode IV: A New Hope, and tie up this little installment with a word from the title of the entry.
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
Ghost Attack
I actually do not know of any ghost attacks.
I do know that I am satisfied that my "blog" (which is a disgusting, vile word in my opinion - not for any substantial reason, but just because it provides aural agony) now has enough posts that I can never return to it and people will still say "Hey. This blog looks like its real."
I do know that I am satisfied that my "blog" (which is a disgusting, vile word in my opinion - not for any substantial reason, but just because it provides aural agony) now has enough posts that I can never return to it and people will still say "Hey. This blog looks like its real."
Literary Idiocy
An insight into inane insanity:
On the Sentient Capabilities of Humana
Authored by Dr. Harry Brammer, “The Rebel Scientist”*
Stage One
The first few years provide very little data. The only thing remarkable about Stage One is Humana’s disgusting choice of Gerber’s mashed peas over Gerber’s mashed corn bits.
Stage Two
Once Humana emerges from the cocoon of toddlerdom, it is faced with a variety of natural perils especially dangerous to its species. The first is education. Education, or the natural process of learning and adapting to one’s environment, has been complicated for Humana by the parallel evolutions of species Mathematica, Politica, and Religiosa. These rival species flood the educational environment with ideas that exist both in and out of known space/time. It has been found that those Humana which best study the essence of these rivals survive significantly longer than others. However, of these survivors, a large percentage go mad with depression and whatcouldhavebeen-entia.
The second natural peril is love. Unfortunately, science is forced to shelve any further investigation into this realm until Hugh Grant returns to acting.
The third and ultimate natural peril is conscience. This is the most overwhelming burden on Humana, which unsurprisingly leads many of the species to slough it off. Conscience attacks Humana with the seeming paradoxes of survival and humanitarianism. When the option of survival is favored too greatly, diseases such as wealth and polo shirts quickly spread. However, when the option of humanitarianism survives, a sappiness that could fill a thousand syrup pitchers nourishes the population.
Stage Three
Humana returns to the dust from whence it came, as long as conscience has succeeded in making Humana realize that this dust is necessary.
*Dr. Harry Brammer has garnered the nickname “The Rebel Scientist” via his irreverent referencing of species using but a single Latin word instead of two. He is also completely ignorant of reality.
On the Sentient Capabilities of Humana
Authored by Dr. Harry Brammer, “The Rebel Scientist”*
Stage One
The first few years provide very little data. The only thing remarkable about Stage One is Humana’s disgusting choice of Gerber’s mashed peas over Gerber’s mashed corn bits.
Stage Two
Once Humana emerges from the cocoon of toddlerdom, it is faced with a variety of natural perils especially dangerous to its species. The first is education. Education, or the natural process of learning and adapting to one’s environment, has been complicated for Humana by the parallel evolutions of species Mathematica, Politica, and Religiosa. These rival species flood the educational environment with ideas that exist both in and out of known space/time. It has been found that those Humana which best study the essence of these rivals survive significantly longer than others. However, of these survivors, a large percentage go mad with depression and whatcouldhavebeen-entia.
The second natural peril is love. Unfortunately, science is forced to shelve any further investigation into this realm until Hugh Grant returns to acting.
The third and ultimate natural peril is conscience. This is the most overwhelming burden on Humana, which unsurprisingly leads many of the species to slough it off. Conscience attacks Humana with the seeming paradoxes of survival and humanitarianism. When the option of survival is favored too greatly, diseases such as wealth and polo shirts quickly spread. However, when the option of humanitarianism survives, a sappiness that could fill a thousand syrup pitchers nourishes the population.
Stage Three
Humana returns to the dust from whence it came, as long as conscience has succeeded in making Humana realize that this dust is necessary.
*Dr. Harry Brammer has garnered the nickname “The Rebel Scientist” via his irreverent referencing of species using but a single Latin word instead of two. He is also completely ignorant of reality.
Look how fast I make new things!
Whoa it's only been an hour and I'm already typing a new post! What am I, a New York Times correspondent or something? No, cuz then I'd have ink all over me! Badump-ching. (That's the kind of printing press humour I'm gonna publish here.)
Speaking of British-spelled words, I just realized that my great grandpa had a British accent, which completely changes my image of him. Why should I care, seeing as how I'm an anti-nationalist (whoa! a peak into my agenda)? Because I'm not an anti-culturalist. I like different people. As long as they don't smell (I'm looking at you Syria. Maybe you need to get off the Axis of Evil and join the AXEs of evil, as in the body spray deoderant. Now in new dynamo flavors and in stock at your local Walgreens/CVS/trading post).
And as I do love culture, I was very upset at the audience behavior at the Christopher Hitchens v. George Galloway debate I've been watching online. Please people. Stop shouting random things at the debaters. I didn't not pay to watch this event so that I could listen to angry people who are not in the debate yell.
As for the debate itself, I have about a half hour left of it to watch while doing intense sit-ups and push-ups (that's for you ladies out there). I don't think any grand conclusions are going to come of it, but I am glad to see two people debate who are not sugar-coating their words with re-election hopes and who actually seem to have some knowledge in there fields. It is an event last recorded in America during the 1980 Reagan v. Insert Funny Name Here debates because I couldn't think of a funny name before I decided to stop typing.
Speaking of British-spelled words, I just realized that my great grandpa had a British accent, which completely changes my image of him. Why should I care, seeing as how I'm an anti-nationalist (whoa! a peak into my agenda)? Because I'm not an anti-culturalist. I like different people. As long as they don't smell (I'm looking at you Syria. Maybe you need to get off the Axis of Evil and join the AXEs of evil, as in the body spray deoderant. Now in new dynamo flavors and in stock at your local Walgreens/CVS/trading post).
And as I do love culture, I was very upset at the audience behavior at the Christopher Hitchens v. George Galloway debate I've been watching online. Please people. Stop shouting random things at the debaters. I didn't not pay to watch this event so that I could listen to angry people who are not in the debate yell.
As for the debate itself, I have about a half hour left of it to watch while doing intense sit-ups and push-ups (that's for you ladies out there). I don't think any grand conclusions are going to come of it, but I am glad to see two people debate who are not sugar-coating their words with re-election hopes and who actually seem to have some knowledge in there fields. It is an event last recorded in America during the 1980 Reagan v. Insert Funny Name Here debates because I couldn't think of a funny name before I decided to stop typing.
Is this fun?
I have joined the parade of blog-creators for three reasons.
One is because I just discovered that all of my friends created one within the last couple weeks..without telling me! Thus, I must track them by appearing on their blogs with witty comments like "Hey! Nice post!" or "Hey! Why didn't you call me last night?" and "Hey! I was waiting outside the theater for four hours and you guys never showed."
Two is because I, like other sentient beings, have opinions. As the title of the blog I have chosen within five minutes shows, I focus my opinions on politics, which is like sooo cliche for twenty-somethings. So I'm not gonna make dumb posts like "Man is Bush a dumbass!", no matter how simplistically insightful such comments may be. Instead I'm gonna try to make something creative, if I ever log into this site again. Thus, the pasta title! Because "Political Pasta" is a creative name, right? Ha! I'm a fool to think so. The only reason I named this Political Pasta is because Political Sandwich and Political pie were already taken. I'm serious.
Third is because I've seen some of these ladies that post their pics on the Internet, and I must say that they do enjoy the strippy strippy. Ohhhhh yeah.
PS I just read what I wrote and the grammar and syntax are questionable, but I'm not gonna edit these into pieces of brilliance. Cuz that would take a while. (Note: "A while" is spelled almost the same as "a whale," which is an animal! Hahahahahahha.)
One is because I just discovered that all of my friends created one within the last couple weeks..without telling me! Thus, I must track them by appearing on their blogs with witty comments like "Hey! Nice post!" or "Hey! Why didn't you call me last night?" and "Hey! I was waiting outside the theater for four hours and you guys never showed."
Two is because I, like other sentient beings, have opinions. As the title of the blog I have chosen within five minutes shows, I focus my opinions on politics, which is like sooo cliche for twenty-somethings. So I'm not gonna make dumb posts like "Man is Bush a dumbass!", no matter how simplistically insightful such comments may be. Instead I'm gonna try to make something creative, if I ever log into this site again. Thus, the pasta title! Because "Political Pasta" is a creative name, right? Ha! I'm a fool to think so. The only reason I named this Political Pasta is because Political Sandwich and Political pie were already taken. I'm serious.
Third is because I've seen some of these ladies that post their pics on the Internet, and I must say that they do enjoy the strippy strippy. Ohhhhh yeah.
PS I just read what I wrote and the grammar and syntax are questionable, but I'm not gonna edit these into pieces of brilliance. Cuz that would take a while. (Note: "A while" is spelled almost the same as "a whale," which is an animal! Hahahahahahha.)
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