I see wrong people. I see them all the time. They don’t know they’re wrong…

My cat appears to be dying.

This is the weekend that I shall become one or more of:

• A huge yet nimble insectoid creature, mantis-like in appearance, with serrated mandibles and forelegs, dripping with caustic goo, that lives only to rend humans limb from limb.
• A charismatic street preacher whose exhortations to “Live as though you were already in HELL!” fill the air at gas stations, grocery stores, and open-air restaurants throughout the county.
• A serial murderer of drywall contractors whose crimes include jigsaw pieces left in each victim’s mouth; the pieces, as assembled by the detectives, are slowly revealing a face. But whose?
• The only non Chinese member of the Communist Party’s Central Coordinating Committee in Beijing.
• Chewbacca.
• The world’s leading collector of pre 1989 Soviet and Eastern Bloc gay pornography.
• Mary Baker Eddy.

Give me an underground laboratory, half a dozen atom-smashers, and a girl in a diaphanous veil waiting to be turned into a chimpanzee, and I care not who writes the nation’s laws. — S.J. Perelman (1904-1979)

substitute: I am scared of growing old. I’m 40 and my 401(k) only has $50K in it and is on the stock market.
Guy Mann-Dude: It’s Chinatown, Jake.
Guy Mann-Dude: Buy land. They’ve started unmaking it.
Guy Mann-Dude: or wait, buy Europe.
Guy Mann-Dude: I’m waiting for slavery to come back.
Guy Mann-Dude: they I can buy shares in some nice shiny Thais
substitute: I think when I get old I’ll just have to shoot people and take their stuff.
substitute: Good thing I’m white, I won’t do any time.
Guy Mann-Dude: I think that’s perfectly viable
Guy Mann-Dude: We can get jobs reconfigging the killbots at an Assisted Prisoning Community!
substitute: (privatized by JaleCo)

http://www.zen-style.com/

Here be tygers, there be tygers, everywhere a tyger tyger.

My favorite part of this map is the Disney Sea.

I have a tragicomic history with subcultures.

I’m a joiner, and ought not to be. I get a crush on a new one, go on a couple of dates, start to get really into it, go steady, and then there’s a loud messy breakup or maybe just a slow tapering fade into failure. The groups I’ve been through with since about junior high school age include (in no sorted order):

• Gamer dork
• Punk
• Amateur radio
• Evangelical Christianity
• Left wing politics
• Gun nuts
• Car nuts
• SF geeks
• Music scenesters
• Entertainment people
• Computer geeks

There may well be others I’ve blotted out. It never works, you see. There’s always some dealbreaker, something about the subculture that drives me nuts, and it’s not going to change. My choices are to bug out or flip out, and I go insectoid. If you look at that list, once you stop giggling, you’ll see why. The geeks and dorks can’t see out of their fanboy worlds, and are socially retarded. Scenester-hipster-entertainment types are self-absorbed social climbers and users. Both the Christians and the radical political crew demand ever-strict adherence to a code of thought and conduct which eventually becomes insane in either the Stalinist or ultramontane way. The only partial successes in that list are punk and cars, because you can always yell FUCK YOU at a punk, and you can back slowly away from the person who’s obsessed with mopar and go hang out with the Subie crowd for a bit.

Usually people list the groups they’ve failed as badges of pride. My identity is so strong, they say, that I can’t compromise for anyone so I’m a lone gun! They tried to tell me what to think, but I’m a rebel, etc.

I think it’s a failure, though. Something about me needs not only for the entire world to love me unconditionally, but for all my groups and circles to get along with me and each other, harmoniously, forever. I am that despised moderate liberal intellectual softy who wants to find the common ground everywhere, and ends up pissing everyone off. Goddamn Menshevik. If I had more balls I’d be able to tolerate the local craziness of groups, maybe, and not get all twitchy and leave.

I sure don’t miss the music scenesters, though. Yecch. Give me a good honest gun nut any day over that.

I found a theme for this year so far! I’m going to have it made up into a big red and blue banner with tassels hanging off it, as for a high school dance, and put it on my house and a t-shirt and a bumper sticker and maybe one of those suburban mom house flags. It will say:

I THOUGHT WE WERE ON THE SAME SIDE!

I just spent about an hour going through Vice Magazine’s website, after reading a bit about it on other peoples blogs. What a piece of shit.

They’ve scoured the planet’s trendy nightclubs for the most privileged young people they can find, told them they’re special, and put them in a magazine to giggle in an oh so sophisticated way at the lesser beings below them. Every bad trend is there: pointless snark, kitsch, racist humor, rich hipster elitism, shitty trendy taste in music, yet more racist humor, and that awful self-satisfied sneer of the half-educated writer who’s never read anything longer than a cereal box.

If you took the meanness of the old Spy, the vapid trendiness of the old Details, the neocon triumphalism of Wired, and the masturbatory self-congratulation of Interview, you’d almost have this one. Maybe needs more Maxim to get the recipe right.

I can be this big of an asshole too, but I don’t go to work and put out a magazine about it, it’s just something that happens to me after 2 beers when I get thoughtless and mean.

Fuck you, Vice.

last nite my niece was murdered exactly like my other brother¥s daughter.. hit from the side in a car crash… she was a straight A student studying law.. i believe it was the filtered photos of whom DIANA called a ROTWEILER that provoked them.. apparently they do NOT like to be known for their LIZARDNESSSESSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!

I had forgotten about this person. His Her photoshop filter research reveals many, many things. Apparently if you solarize or posterize world figures you can see the eeee-vil. Me, I think Henry Kissinger looks like an evil space lizard already.

http://www.wiolawapress.com/