If You Build It, They Will Come.

Monday, December 31, 2001

As it turns out, I may have a problem, but I think problem is the wrong word. Heh heh. It's a good problem. Yet, a bad problem, in parts. HA! I'm not telling ANYBODY!!! HAHAHAHAH!!!!!!!

Sunday, December 30, 2001

I may have a problem. And actually, I just realized as I wrote that last sentence that I really don't want to go into it. It may be nothing at all, it may be. Who knows. But man I'm feeling a little funny. It's not like an illness or anything. In fact it's not anything anyone should be concerned about. Probably not even me. I just couldn't sleep last night. I actually wanted to type my way through it and kind of organize it, so I logged on to my page, but now I'm remembering who reads this and I kind of don't want to share. I can do without the concerned looks from people, so I'm not going to tell anyone. At least not yet. Maybe never. Maybe it's nothing. Maybe you already know.

So why did I go through the trouble of writing this whole thing down? Maybe you already know.

I think I need a psychologist. Or someone with a degree in psychology. Someone who has worked on crisis hotlines or something. Someone who knows me really really well. Maybe I'll call someone today. Or maybe it's nothing. Maybe I'm over-thinking. I do that. From time to time.

Maybe you already know. Maybe it's not what you think it is. Maybe it's nothing.

Saturday, December 29, 2001

Whoa. Like Keanu Reeves style woah. I just had a weird weird dream.

Ok, I lived in this city. And my friend had this baby that this evil guy, who was really like a robot or an alien or something unstoppable, for some reason needed to kill. This baby could like communicate telepathically. It wanted to go to this cathedral in the city. My friend entrusted me to protect this baby, and told me not to take her to this cathedral because that is the first place the evil guy would look for her. So I hopped on my bike, put te baby in this bag thing that hung on my chest and drove deep into the city to find help. I needed to find Jay and Silent Bob. I found Jay crossing the street on his bike, so I called him a pussy to get his attention and then rode away. He chased me almost out of town. Then he caught up to me and we talked for a little while. He was making fun of me because he thought the baby was mine. I asked where Bob was and he said he didn't know, but we could try going to his house. So we kept on riding out of town, because Bob lived in a farmhouse. We got to his place, and he wasn't there. We went inside and people were having christmas dinner or something. This one lady had a baby of her own and it was no bigger than my hand. Then this like 85 year old grandma said, "That one's mine" and pointed to a babty carriage. That was pretty creepy. Anyway we go back outside and suddenly Bob is there. He had just gotten home. I said hey to him and he said hey back, then Jay got mad because he talked, but Bob said he wanted to talk. He said, "Sometimes I want to be Bob and not say anthing, sometimes I want to be Kevin Smith and just wear a hat and a long coat." Somehow, I related to him, saying I knew exactly what he meant. Then there were lights behind us. Red and blue. I turned to see a pick up truck with cop lights on top of it. I thought we had been caught by the robot alien guy (by the way, apparently Jay and Silent Bob and me and this baby had dealt with this guy before because Jay and I were talking about it when he caught up to me. In the dream I remembered shooting him and it had no effect.) We turned the other way and there was a fire truck. Both had seemeingly come out of nowhere. We were like, what is going on? And the fireman was like, "Can't you see the house is on fire??" We turned up and looked and Bob's room was flickering orange through his bedroom window. and so was the roof of the house. I was like "Bob, your room is on fire." He just kind of laughed. That's when I woke up. I got up and turned the computer on and wrote this like right away. It needed to be shared.

Friday, December 28, 2001

I just heard someone say something kind of funny.

"I am 34 years old, and the other day I was looking back at my life. I make $7,000.00 a year, I have a couple pair of pants, some CD's. I thought to myself I am a loser. That's when it hit me. I'm not a loser. I tried. I am a failure."

Made me smile.

Saturday, December 22, 2001

Is it just Muslims that blow up buildings? Is that the image we're painting? I have to believe that if the World Trade Center Towers were a pair of giant abortion clinics, bomb happy Christians would've knocked them down a long time ago. They of course wouldn't speak for all Christians, just like Osama bin Laden doesn't speak for all Muslims.

I'm still stuck on this guy from two nights ago. He was talking about people who didn't follow the Bible and how they were all going to burn. A thought came to me. I want to test it out...

God wrote this.

Now... think about that. This has as much logical merit as the Bible does. You have to believe in God. Why? It says so in the Bible. Why should you believe the Bible? It was written by God, and God is infallable. Just like this. You have to believe that God wrote this. Why? It says so on this webpage. Why should you believe the webpage? Because it was written by God, and God is infallable.

The real question is, how do you know that God wrote this? Even deeper of a question is, how can you define God's existance by begging the question? In other words, how can you use the idea that God exists to prove God exists? Ockham's Razor (the idea that the simplest answer is usually the right answer) would dictate that the Bible was written by man, and the idea of an infallable author was inserted as a Catch-22 to make people believe that God must be there. But if God doesn't exist, then what is the Bible, other than a book, no more relevant to life than "The Hobbit" or "1984." Not even if God doesn't exist, but if Christianity is false. Which I'm sure it is to some degree.

On a slighty different topic, but not really. I want to write about reality. So here we go...

1.) This is not a perfect world. Nor will it ever be. The sun will not shine every day. The traffic will not flow everyday. There will not be rainbows and happy go lucky birds flying through the sky everyday. So stop. Stop trying to change the rules for everybody to save the few that slip through the cracks. Life is unfair. Innocent people die. Everyday. There's nothing you can do to stop it. Kids get shot at school. People are put in the chair for things they didn't do. Bombs go off in the wrong places. Should we home school all our kids? Should we get rid of the criminal justice system? Should we stop all fighting and simply roll over? Hell no. Mistakes are made all the time, we are human, it comes with the territory. Life is unfair. I'm going to say that again. Life is unfair. This isn't a perfect place, you can't make it be a perfect place, no matter how hard you try. You can't prevent a psychopath, you can't stop an accident, you can't predict a freak occurance. You can always look back and say "I should've done this." But whoopdee shit, you didn't so move on. You can always learn, you can always take something from everything. But a system or a practice or an event that is 99% effective is not a failure. That one percent is what is known as an acceptable loss. If I drop a bomb and kill 99 terrorists and one innocent person, I'm sorry Johnny Innocent, but you were in the wrong spot. It's terrible that you were there, I'm sorry, but the mission was still a success. If I execute 500 murderers on Death Row and one turned out to be innocent, I'm sorry. But that's still a 99.8% effective rate, and that's pretty damn good. I'll feel bad. We'll all be upset. But when murderer number 501 comes around, he's still going to die. Nobody is perfect. It may sound like I'm trivializing Johnny Innocent's life. I may be. But Christ, he was a person. Just like you, just like me. I'm sorry he's gone, I really am. But when an innocent victim in World War 2 was killed, the Allies didn't just say, "Crap, Johnny Innocent died. Guys, let's pack it up. War's over, an innocent guy just got fragged. Sorry. Nazi's, Europe is yours."

2.) People are stupid. Not all people, but a lot of people. The sad thing is, this cannot be helped. People go through life and don't think things through. People like to be led. Like sheep. People can hear something and believe it is gospel truth, for whatever reason they choose. People like Rush Limbaugh. A lot of people are satisfied with stupidity. That's okay. I'm in college. There are a lot of smart people here. An entire environment filled with smarter people starts to make you forget that it is a special environment. People fly confederate flags. Why? They are stupid. People attack me because I learn fake knowledge from college professors instead of real truths from Ted Nugent and Charleton Heston. In life you are the sheep or the shepard. You are a mindless drone or a queen bee. You are spoken for or outspoken. You are given your opinons or you find them yourself. But we need you both.

3.) Communism is a good theory, but it doesn't work. People are in poverty. People are rich. Humanity is greedy. Humanity is lazy. Humanity works in a way that seems unfair. Every know and then gets shaken up, and eventually settles right back to where it started. It's like silly putty. You can shape it any way you want, but if you leave it there afterwards, it eventually becomes a little pink puddle again. The perfect human society is one where there are people on top and people on bottom. The United States revolted from England in 1776 to create a better newer society. One where taxes didn't get imposed without the say of the people. To one where everyone had a voice, a say. To one by the people, for the people. To one where everyone was equal. Look at us now. We are England 1776. Taxes are made without the peoples consent. Not everyone has a say (presidential election 2000.) Not everyone is equal. Rich people and corporations rule the country while we all lie underneath, brushed around like dust in a windstorm. This is where humanity settles. This is our natural state. Disrupt it all you want, this is our little pink puddle. Communism failed because humanity cannot work harder that someone else and still get the same thing. We need rich people living the glamorous life, so we underneath have a picture, a video byte to strive for, to cling to, to say, "I'm going to work hard, and that's going to be me someday."

4.) All men are not created equal. I am not you, you are not me. Men are not women, women are not men. Blacks are not whites are not latino are not asian. We are not equal. We are different. There are pros and cons. Men cannot flirt out of a traffic ticket. Women cannot work in a strip club 31 days in the month. Again, this is not a perfect world. You have pros, I have pros. You have cons, I have cons. Personally, and many women friends of mine agree with me, I think women have it easier. Not much easier, but slightly. People will go against you because you're a woman, because you're a man, because you're black, because you're white. It sucks, yes. But life is unfair. Accept it. Just accept it. I don't owe you a million dollars because I made you feel uncomfortable at work by looking at your breasts, like you don't owe me for saying men are pigs. Just deal with it.

That's all. All I can muster. For now. Ah, I feel a little better.

Friday, December 21, 2001

Know what I want to do tonight? I want to watch The Rocky Horror Picture Show with my old pal Laura Barb, while singing every song with my hand up in the air. I want to get hit with inspiration and write the next part of my screenplay. I want to come up with a new idea. Any new idea.

I feel the need to write something here that is kind of a difficult subject to tackle. Religion. I know I've already on this page somewhere displayed my thoughts on the matter. But, last night I saw something truly remarkable. Politically Incorrect with Bill Maher. Last night they had a Bishop, a Rabbi, and an Islamic Priest on the show. It was amazing because here I was my entire life being under the christian blanket of knowing the stories of Jesus and Joseph and Mary and whatever. Watching these three talk, I was like, that Bishop guy is kind of an asshole. The Jewish guy was saying, believe what you want, Judism isn't an exclusive club, if you want in, come on over. The Islam guy was like, hey, I'd be more than happy to tell you about Allah, but if you want to be Muslim, that's a choice you must make for yourself. The Christian guy was like, y'all are burning in hell if you don't convert to my religion. He was like, "It is the duty of every Christian to convert non-believers." Is that true? If so, is it too late to change my religion? Although I guess I don't really even consider myself Christian, or anything at all, but man, I was like, what a dick. And apparently so was the crowd, who I imagine were mostly Christian or some variation themselves, who took every chance to applaud the other two's message of tolerance over the Christian guys message of you guys are stupid. And this conceited bastard actually had the gall to try and make the other two convert to Christ right there on the show, by asking them to accept Jesus. The Rabbi was awesome, he was like, "I hear your invitation, and now hear me say that I respectfully decline."

Man is not truly vain until he believes he can speak for God.

People are born into religion. Bill made the point that if the bishop was born in Egypt, he'd be arguing the others point. And this guy, man what a jerk.

Tuesday, December 18, 2001

I've posted here twice now and neither of them published. Kind fo a bummer. Although, neither time I really had anything important to say. Just as I don't for this one. I just want to see if this goes up.

Red Wings lost last night. 2-0. They got shut out which was a bummer, because I love being at Joe Louis when that horn goes off, and everybody jumps up out of their seat. Laura and I figured it all out though. We know why they lost. We have the Red Wings, 1st place in the NHL, kicking bootie the whole time. The team is virtually unstoppable. Then we also have the Detroit Lions, 0-12 until last sunday. A team that was virtually un-unstoppable. Then somehow, they win a game last week, and now of course that means the Wings have to lose. So once again, it's the Lions fault. Jerks.

Saturday, December 15, 2001

All in all it's just another brick in the wall.

I felt the need to write that there. Maybe because I watched The Wall last night. Maybe it's because I feel that way about a few things in my life right now. Namely my boss. She gave me what I wanted, so I'm not as mad anymore. Maybe it's for these dreams. Or what they may pertain to. Maybe the song is just in my head. I'm daydreaming now. A lot easier than I used to. People will talk to me and I won't hear a thing they said, although I'm smiling and nodding the whole time. I never remember peoples names. People will be like, "I'm Jim" and like five seconds later, I'm like, wait, what was his name again? I watched an episode of the X-Files a few nights ago. It was the one about Big Blue. The prehistoric creature that supposedly lived under this lake. It turns out it was just a big aligator. Mulder and Scully got talking about Moby Dick (Scullys dog was named Queequeg.) Mulder made some comment about not being Ahab, but always wanting a peg leg. He rationalized it by saying that then he wouldn't have to look for the truth anymore. His success wouldn't be measured by his great accomplishments. If he had some kind of disformity like that, he would be successful in only surviving day to day. No one would pressure him to go out and be huge or great. They would take pride in him and he could take pride in himself by just getting up in the morning. I just thought that was interesting. I mean he's kind of right. The more you can do, the more you're expected to do. The more you do the higher you raise your own bar, the easier it is to falter. Like if I was a goalie in the NHL, and all season trough 81 games I never let a goal in. Then in the 82nd game one gets by. People would think I was slipping. For one goal in 82 games. But, if I was a quarterback for the Detroit Lions and I threw a game winning touchdown, I would be a hero, because no Lion quarterback has thrown a game winning touchdown all season. So Mulder has a point. But, then again, if you had a peg leg, it WOULD be an accomplishment to do the things that others do easily. So in truth it would probably suck hard.

Anyway, goodnight.

Friday, December 14, 2001

I need a new job. A closer job. A better job. I don't like my boss anymore. She's a cheater. She tells us to do ten things at once, then complains when one gets done before the other. In the Sr. Sale position I was in I got a 5 day paid vacation. She never told me this. She knew, and she knew I didn't know, but if I knew, that would mean I would've taken five days off. I only found this out when John, the assistant manager, who has been the assistant manager for about a year and a half, stumbled onto an email that said there was a new cut-off for times when employees could take said vacation. He was like, "We get vacations?" John got seven days, and he took them the next week, because his cut-off time was the week after that. But Bambi, (yes Bambi, not a hot blonde, but a middle age not-hot lady) never told us. We get free games sent to us. Although, we didn't find this out until Bambi went to El Salvador, and Tom came over and managed our store. He was like, "Yeah, they sent stuff for the employees all the time. Bambi probably takes it all." And she does. She's so two sided. She always made fun of our last DM, and so did we, but we never really made fun of his person, just his voice. He really, in my mind, was an alright guy. Bambi would get mean. But shes one of those people who always says she stands up for her employees. Then one day I went in the backroom and heard her on the phone with him saying, "I didn't think they should be making fun of you, so I told them to stop, but they just kept doing it." Now I've had a few days scheduled off for about two months or so. My mom and dad got me Red Wings tickets for my birthday. The games on monday and wednesday next week. So I figured instead of driving back and forth, I'd just take my usual two days off then. Work monday morning, off tuesday and wednesday and work thursday night. This has been on the calendar since september. But of course I know that she doesn't pay attention. So I remind her of this often. She's like, yeah, that should be fun. So I called her again yesterday and asked if she had the schedule done yet. Of course she said no. The schedule covers sunday to saturday and usually doesn't get done until saturday, the day before it's needed, so no one knows if they work the next day. Although, she has been doing better at getting it done earlier, like saturday morning, instead of night. So anyway, I call to remind her, and she flips out, saying I can't do it, because tuesday is Final Fantasy X day. I'm like, "I've had this scheduled for like two months now." She's like no. And so I'm trying to work with her asking if I can make it up or something and she just starts yelling and says, "Fine, take it, I'll just have to work open to close everyday. Bye." and hangs up on me. This is where it all went downhill for me. I was thinking to myself, you don't have to cover me, you're the manager, you just need to have one of your staff cover me. You have three guys, Aaron, Mike, and Charles, who work only four hours every week. You have Jeremy, Adam, Tim, Jeff, and two new guys you just hired. She was like, "I didn't hire on this season because I thought I'd have a full time staff." When I know for a fact she just hired those two new guys this week. Then the part about her having to work it? Bite me, there's no need for her to work, she's already scheduled the management. She just tried to guilt trip me into giving up something I wanted to do, I had PLANNED to do, by lying to me again. It's the thing with the vacations again. She's a two faced liar.

Needless to say I'm looking for a better job. I'd feel bad quitting now, even if I had another job, because the christmas season is the hardest time to work at the mall, and even though I'd gladly give it up, I'm sure she'd make everyone else work like ten times more and take it out on them. And I like everyone else. I like them a lot, they are all really really cool. But whenever I'm scheduled to work with Bambi, I feel like breaking something. She always gives us fifty things to do, and then goes and talks to her husband and kid on the phone in the back room. There will be like me and Adam working, and she'll be like, "Joe, you reorganize all the used stuff" (Which I've told her stay organized until the next customer looks at them, you have to take them off to look at them. It's the most assinine system ever, but she doesn't care. Logic bounces off this woman like bullets to Superman.) and then she'll tell Adam to put fifty new games out on the shelves. (Which don't even have room for the ones that are out there.) She'll be working on the shrink wrap table (meaning on the phone with her husband). Something not right with this equation? Are we forgetting something? Oh yeah, who's working the freaking registers? Nobody? That's right. So we get a small line of customers, and we stop to help them. (A small line during christmas takes about twenty minutes to work through.) Then Babmi bitches that we haven't gotten doen yet. Bite me lady. If I hear her say "Ya follow me?" or "Looking is good, buying is better." or "I'll need 42 pieces of ID, not really." or "I love christmas. I'm Bambi, my second cousin is Rudolph." one more goddamn time, I'm going to flip out.

That is all. I work in an hour and 20 minutes. You may see me on the front page of the paper soon. Under the headline, "Stressed Out Mall Employee Goes Postal."

Ok, I'm not kidding here. Another dream last night. But this one was much different. In this one, I was at this campus that I have been to in my dreams many many times before. It isn't WMU, in fact I don't think it's a place that exists in reality, but I know it like the back of my hand. Anyway, I saw the Undertaker on this campus, and he said he was going to fight this one guy, who was actually the big mean guy from Highlander. I told a lot of people, and no one could make a guess as to who would win, because the Undertaker was going to go old school, back to when he was dead, and had Paul Bearer and the urn. So I went to tell all my friends about this fight, and I found them all in this room watching TV. Jon, Ryan, Jen and Jackie, and Jess were all watching this really disgusting gross stuff on TV that they said was porn. (I watched The Wall last night, it was kind of like that part when Pink is dead, before he peels his own skin off and he becomes the Nazi Pink. Plus with all the maggots. It was just a bunch of disgusting disturbing images. But at the same time it was porn, which made it worse.) So I was like, "I can't watch this." and went and sat in the hallway. Jackie came out and sat by me and started to kiss me and I was like, "Stop!" because I was still grossed out by the maggots and stuff, and it was like I didn't want her to even touch me because I was so turned off to anything sexual. So I was like, "the Undertaker is fighting the Highlander guy, want to watch it?" And she was like, "sure," but I could tell she was mad. So she tried to go back into the maggot porno room and I was like, "No, I don't even want to go in there. Lets just get in the car and go watch it at my apartment." She was like, "ok." but the fact that I didn't want to go back into the other room made her even madder. I felt bad, because I knew it was making her angry, like she was watching it for me hoping I would see it and enjoy it, but I couldn't do it. So we drove back to my place, and in the car she kept trying to kiss me and I was pulling away because it was still gross. Sounds weird, eh? It was. But seriously, if you had seen the show they were watching in my dream, Jesus, I'm still grossed out. Grody.

Anyway, that one makes much less sense, but to me, some parts make sense. The Undertaker and The Highlander Guy. I really wonder who would win....

Thursday, December 13, 2001

Babbage's makes me angry. The company makes me angry, the manager makes me angry. I am angry.

I had another dream last night. There were different people in this one, and different places. But it was still the exact same idea.

Wednesday, December 12, 2001

Here we go again. It's the end of the semester and grades have just been released. I've once again put myself in this position waiting for the fire to reign down. This was my fault. No one else. I'm not blaming anything for my terrible performance this semester but myself. I had problems with school this semester. I missed a bio lab test in november because I was three minutes late to class and they started without me, and wouldn't let me in. I couldn't find a place to park before class and ended up having to park way further away than I did every other time, and then having to run to class. I still missed it. That would've easily put me over in my bio lab, seeing as we have three tests. That is it though. That's the only one I can point to one moment that turned it all around. I gave up this semester. I just didn't care. I don't really know why, but I knew then and now that I should've cared. I just couldn't get into it. I hated school. I thought to myself, I'm busting my ass for a career that I am going to hate. I thought this would be something I would eventually become passionate about, but it hasn't gone that way. I've been faking it. To my parents and to my family to my friends and to myself. I have been studying psychology for 3 years now, all the while hoping eventually this would catch on to me. I mean hell, I love people, and helping people, and kids, and giving advice. It was one aspect of life that I truly felt passionate about. Then I got into it. At WMU the only psychology you learn is behavioral, not clinical. There is a big difference. Behavioral psychology has nothing to do with schizophrenia, or any actual mental disorders whatsoever. It's more based on contingencies. Prompt yields behavior yields consequence. Then suddenly it occured to me this semester that I've spent three years learning to train a dog. Say fetch yields dog fetching, yields treat. That is what I have learned. Of course this can be put to use in humans too. Say stop yields child stopping yields saying thank you. This is practical only with people with low brain fuctions. Children with autism, dogs, infants, etc. This is not practical for real people. These realizations have been coming to me slowly, and I realized that all I'm going to do for the next 30 years of my life is sit in a booth with a child saying "Put same with same... good job putting same with same. Put same with same... stop... this is putting same with same." This is where my psychology has taken me. And I've tried to keep interest in it. I've tried so hard to say, "It's school, this is the sucky part. When you get out there, that's when you'll feel good about it again." For the last two years, I've been saying I want to work with children with autism. This semester I did. This semester I learned that it isn't what I want. But I faked it anyway. I faked it because I hate being this far and still not knowing where I'm headed. I hate for my parents to think that too. So I said that I can get a job in California, straight out of school, to work with autistic kids. I can. This is very true, and very possible. The truth is I want to work in film. I want to write screenplays, I want to direct, I want to be creative. There isn't a stable market for creativity. So California, namely Los Angeles is where I wanted to go to work in schools for autistic kids. That way, I'd have a stable job, while working for what I really wanted in life on the side. That was my plan. Get to LA, find a stable job so I don't fall under the starving artist category, and work for my dream, what I really want in life. I am still a psychology major, now with a declared creative writing minor. I'm writing a screenplay now. I'm working with a few friends, one who is studying film, to develop this. It's going ahead well. I'm a ways into it, and I like it so far. But I can't get there like this. They won't take me in LA if I get grades like I got this semester. I've said this to myself, and to my parents and family numerous times. But this time I am serious. I'm not just saying this to make anyone feel better. I'm not lying. I am being held to this. Next semester, I am four pointing. I know I can do it. I'm going to take out a student loan to pay for school, and I am going to four point every class. It seems I say this at the end of every semester, but somewhere along the line, I lose sight because I find something, a flaw, which dismantles my entire theory on school. It can be as easy as the teacher making us learn a fact that is obviously false propaganda, that makes me question everything I've learned. This time, I have a goal. This time I'm not looking at this coming semester and being part of the whole college experience, I'm not looking at it as just another step. I'm changing my paradigm. This time it is the only step. This time it's all a test. It's all a game. My game ends in April. The score is tallied up then, not at graduation. If I learn a false fact, it will not dishearten me this time. It's a rule. And in this game, there may be stupid rules, like four pitches to walk a batter. But if you want to play the game, you have to play by the rules, no matter how stupid they may seem. God, even in writing this I'm getting fired up. This is for me. For as long as I can remember, my grades have been for my parents. I'm proving this to myself. I can four point, and I'm going to prove it. I've never done it before, as far as I know, in my life. But I've always in the back of my mind, known I could. Now, I'm going to prove it. To me, to my dad, to my mom, to my family and to everyone. This was it. This is my wake up call. This is my instant, dad, where it all hits me. This is what you were talking about. I know what you were talking about. I can do this, I can take care of myself for myself. I can put in this effort to do it. I will put in this effort to do it. I'm done floating, I'm done sitting on the fence being pampered. I have the will now to do this for me. I have the will to make a good life for myself. To work for myself. To strive to make the best life for me that I can have. I'm done just hoping things wil work out for the best. I'm ready to make them work out for the best. And now that I've gotten going, just watch me.

Two nights ago, I had a dream. A very realistic dream. A dream that, when I woke up I was convinced had actually happened, until I realized that the dream took place during christmas dinner at my grandmas house, and that hasn't happened yet. This was a very symbolic, Freudian dream. And as soon as I woke up I understood exactly what it meant. A realization overcame me. I realized the dream was right. There are only a few people I can actually tell all the details of this to. Those people have already been told. If you are not one of them, more than likely this is all you will know. But now, it seems, my eyes are open.

Monday, December 10, 2001

I just created a new blog. I also moved that big freakin blog of song quotes. Enjoy.

Two things:

I freaking hate Booker T. Not in the typical way a guy hates a wrestler. Not like I hated Stone Cold Steve Austin because he ran over the Rock's car with a monster truck. Not like I hated the Undertaker because he single handedly destroyed Hulkamania. These are part of the show, these are in the script. Me hating them was the desired effect, because that's what they were going for. I hate Booker T because I am convinced he is some kind of goon who has no place in the WWF, in the public eye, or even working anywhere but behind the counter at a McDonalds serving me fries. Ok, there are two absolutely ridiculous moves in wrestling. One is Scotty 2 Hotty's worm. This is fun to see. One is Booger T's Spinneroonie. What in the blue hell is the spineroonie for? Hi, I'll do a freakin breakdance in the ring, and then look at my hand like it was the first time I've ever seen the stupid thing. What am I forgetting. Oh yeah, to hit the guy, at all. Idiot. So WCW and ECW lost the Survivor Series, and Booker T was fired. But he won't go away!! He came back and screwed up and match, then came back and begged Ric Flair for his job back. All the while making that stupid Booger T face saying, "Tell me you just didn't say that." Shut up. Then tonight, he messed up the match between Austin and Jericho, and Jericho is the champion. Now, I don't mind that Jericho won. I don't mind that the match ws interfered with. But BOOKER T? Anybody but him. Undertaker, RVD, Angle, HHH, Hulk Hogan, I don't care. Just fire that stupid bastard.

(yes, I watch too much wrestling. joe=dork)

The second thing. I'm watching Sleepless in Seattle. Now. As I am typing this. I hate this movie. Not because its a bad movie. It's a great chick flick. I can watch them, I have a problem with most of them, but I can watch them. The problem with chick flicks are usually the same. The reason I hate this movie is Bill Pullman. You see, women love the love story. The one where coincedences and events eventually bring people together for the last scene, the first kiss in front of the amber sunset. But, if you want a love story, isn't that the beginning and not the ending? See, there's the first kiss, and it's a great first kiss. But how do you know that the next day, they don't break up because they realize they don't even know the other's name? Take Sleepless in Seattle. (I'm to the part I hate in the movie.) Annie hears Sams voice on the radio and even though she has built a relationship up with another guy enough to become engaged, she decides to go to New York WITH her fiancee, and decides to dump him after they pick out dishes and stuff, and after he buys a bottle of wine and a nice dinner. She leaves him at the freaking table, and goes to find out if this man she has never met and really knows nothing about is waiting for her on the top of a building. And the kicker? He lets her go, because he loves her so much that he wants her to be happy, even if it means his complete and total heartbreak. So Annie is like "I don't deserve you. I gotta go." She throws her entire love life away, demolishes a guy that trusted her, and runs to the building. There Sam and Jonah are there eventually, and they hold hands. There isn't even a first kiss! And the movie ends there. What the hell kind of a stupid story is that? Poor Bill Pullman gets ditched for a guy on the radio. All the women forget this though. Bill Pullman doesn't matter, as long as Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks hold hands. This is why women bug me. Love is great right? It's awesome. I agree. But it can be painful too. Devistating. But it's easy to ignore Bill Pullmans demise and destruction, because Tom and Meg held hands.

Saturday, December 08, 2001

I was driving home tonight when I suddenly got a craving for a Frisco Melt Platter and a Cookies and Cream Shake from Steak and Shake. It's been a long time since I've wanted one of those, (and now that it's been 45 minutes since I've eaten it, I remember why). Anyway, I brought a book in, becuase I was all alone, but I never got to read it. Behind me there was an argument going on between a Jehovah's Witness and a girl who seemed slightly agnostic. Very cool. I just sat and listened to them talk the entire time, barely supressing my urge to hop in as well.

I'm writing a screenplay. Right now it's called "Ordinary Life" but that's just the working title. It's basically about life as a college student, but not the stereotypical college student you always see movies about. It's about the students out there who still have no idea what they are doing with their lives, or who have realized that they have already walked into the rut of adulthood and that there is no turning back. Someone who buys into the fact that there's more to life than anyone ever tells you, than anyone wants you to know. For those that are unsure of themselves. Not the frat guys who have their house expelled and then take revenge at the homecoming parade, not the five guys who make a pact to get laid, not the partying guys who take a drive to retrieve a incriminating video tape. All these ideas went through my head, before someone pointed out that they had been done. I thought then I should write about something I think I know.

Tuesday, December 04, 2001

So I got this friend who told jokes about chemistry on his page. I suddenly want to punch this friend in the throat. I got one for you.

Q: What's the difference between you and a mallard with a cold?
A: One's a sick duck, and I can't remember how it ends, but your mother's a whore.

For this friends information, I work in a video game store because I know about video games, not because I like them. Do people work in abortion clinics because they like to kill babies? Do people work in morgues because they like fiddling with dead people? Do people work at Wendy's because they like fast food? No. They do it because its a job they are qualified to do. As far as video games go, all that they come out with now is crap. Crap here, crap there. Nothing good. Every now and then something comes along that is interesting and fresh. Those are SO few and far between though. People are for some reason, entertained by the same crap over and over. Boring stupid ARRRRRRR!!!!!!!

I got finals to study for now. Then its off to play Wolfenstein 85: No One Lives Forever.

Wow, this all sounded hostile. It's not. I'm smiling. :-) see?

Monday, December 03, 2001

Video games suck.

Odd that I work at Babbages, a video game store, but still, video games suck. Let me tell you why. There is nothing truly original out there anymore that is selling, so the industries don't make original games. They recycle the same over-used mindless garbage that for some reason is really popular. For example...

1PS (First Person Shooter)
This genre started with Wolfenstein, and continued through Wolfenstein 2, Wolfenstein 3, 4, 5.....93, 94, and finally has come to Return to Castle Wolfenstein. All the games along the way have had different sub-nambes. Wolfenstein 2 I believe was called "Doom" and Wolfenstein 3 was "Doom 2." Then came "Wolfenstein 7: Quake 2" and "Wolfenstein 12: Unreal" One of my favorites was "Woflenstein 48: Halflife" or it's later, just as expensive version of "Wolfenstein 82: Halflife Blue-Shift." My favorite, of course, used to be "Wolfenstein 23: Duke Nukem" but since getting my hands on "Wolfenstein 44: Quake 3 Arena" (Not to be confused with "Wolfenstein 49: Quake 3 Team Arena") I've just sort of lost interest in it. That and "Wolfenstein 67: Perfect Dark," or "Wolfenstein 37: Goldeneye." My friend told me I should try "Wolfenstein 91: Deus Ex." What's the differece? Kill Nazis, aliens, zombies, or other people, you've changed the look of the enemy. You've changed the map, you've changed the look of the guns. Does anybody else out there realize they are the EXACT SAME GAMES?!?! It's like buying two boxes of Milk Duds because one has a yellow box, and the other has a yellow box with a red stripe. It's still just Milk Duds!!

3PS (Third Person Shooter.)
These are your Tomb Raiders, your Max Payne's, your Alices and I'll admit they are more interesting. Why? Because you can jump! You can actually see your guy jump! That's about it. Run around and shoot things. Why? Who knows, but did you see the blood splatter out of that demon when I fired the BFG10K at him? That was AWESOME!!!!

Sporting Games
Not Sports games, Sporting games. Real Fishin', Sega Bass Classic, Real Fishin' 2, Deer Hunter 1-5, Wild Turkey Shoot. The only thing lazier than playing video games, USED to be getting in a canoe, going out on the lake, dropping your line in the water and waiting for hours. Now? You don't even have to make THAT effort. You can sit in your chair and play a video game by doing nothing but staring at the screen, waiting for a tug. If I ever buy one of these games, I must be in a coma, and please, somebody pull the plug.

Racing Games
Racing Games ALMOST fall into the Sporting Games category, because a lot of these games are for hicks. NASCAR Thunder and such. But I realize that there are games out there that are more popular for the city folk too. Gran Turismo 3 comes to mind. Oh Gran Turismo 3, the best racing game! Oh Gran Turismo 3, it looks so real! Oh oh. AH HORSE SHIT!! What the hell is so entertaining about a game where you sit and drive? I do that all the time on the way to campus, and you know what? That drive is as mindless as GT3. Racing games are SO boring. I once got the silver cup in F-Zero X. I didn't even realize I was playing. The entire time I was thinking about going home for Thanksgiving, and how my classes were going, and does my car need gas, who am I working with tonight, I wonder what Fred Savage is doing right now? Or that kid from Saved By The Bell. The nerdy guy, Screech. You know the Zack kid is now on NYPD Blue? That's pretty cool. That fat bald guy is still on that show, I thought he got shot in the pilot. Oh look, I beat the game. You know who I miss, that one girl from Saved By The Bell, the one from Showgirls. I always liked her.

Role Playing Games
Final Fantasy, Dragon Warrior, these games are actually good. Why? They have something that makes you want to keep playing. Plot. A story. Twists, turns. These are things that make me pick up a controller and say, "I wonder what will happen next." Unlike Quake, where I bet what happens next is I kill something with a really big gun, or GT3, where I bet I turn left. The only problem I have with them is the fighting. That is TOO slow. If only we could have a game about an elf kid who needs to save a princess and he fights this evil guy, but along the way theres a story that changes and a plot gets developed and the fighting is quick and more realistic than HP and MP. We could call this game, "The Legend of Susan" or whatever the princesses name would be. That would be cool.

Sports Games
Electronic Arts can make a sports game like it's nobodies business. EA is responsible for NHL 2002, NBA 2002, FIFA 2002, MLB 2002, and the most realistic of them all Madden 2002. John Madden actually sounds like the annoying moronic announcer we've all come to know and mute. Sports games are fun, but in portions. I can sit here and play an entire hockey game, and if I'm into it enough, I can play the playoffs over a few days. But man, after a while, I'll bet it would look more realistic if I strapped on a pair of skates and actually went outside with a tennis ball and a hockey stick. That's the thing, why play a game on a tv you can play in real life? I mean yeah its cool to be Steve Yzerman, or Joe Sakic, or Theo Fleury. It's cool to be coming to you "live" from Madison Square Garden or the Kiel Center. But man, get up and go play hockey, or football, or basketball. If you want to, play baseball, but I suggest something more strenuous and physically exhausting in baseballs case. Try EA's MLB 2002. Or maybe fishing.

Online Communities
Tired of Ultima or Everquest? Waiting for the next big community thing? Well here it is! It's called EARTH!! MEET REAL PEOPLE! Everquest boasts 700,000 occupants. Here's news for you. Earth boasts 6,000,000,000 occupants. That's not counting animals or nothing either. That's just in people!! Real people look more realistic, there's no monthly fee, no waiting to log on, no getting booted off! It's amazing! Just listen to these satisfied customers.

"I was online for 20 hours a day, and then one day it happened. My curtain collapsed and I saw the real world. I was like 'Whoa, you can't see the end of it!'" -Derrick S., 24 years old.

"My mom broke my computer, and she made me take my brother outside. Well naturally I was nervous, I mean, outside, come on. But one I got there, I wasn't sitting in a putrid fog of my own tearjerking body odor anymore. I heard noises and they were in surround sound. I heard a bird, and it sounded like it was behind me! Thanks mom!" -Kyle M., 20 years old.

You don't need to be afraid of shampoo or showers, toothbrushes or sunlight anymore! So go outside and get Earth today!!

I'll admit, mindless as well. But these are good for sentimental reasons. These are the games that most of us grew up playing. These are the ones where we got real excited when they came out. These are Super Mario Brothers, Sonic the Hedgehog, Metroid, Ninja Gaiden, etc. These are classics on the old NES and Sega Genesis. And if anyone born near 1980 got ahold of one now, we'd still know about the warp zone behind the pipe in level 1-2.

Tekken, Mortal Kombat, Soul Calibur, Street Fighter. Fun, in doses. And only if you aren't playing against a dork. I use that term with a smile, because it isn't derogatory. But the dork is one who spends countless hours learning every combo for every character, and then proceeds to flawlessly destroy you everytime you touch the controller before your guy even blinks. And my god is that fun. Sarcasm. And after that dork beats you over and over, gloating about it, thinking that the fact that Scorpion just ripped of Johnny Cage's head is really going to hurt your feelings, along comes another dork, who mops the floor with the inferior dorks candy ass. To the first dork, this is a personal attack. His dorkhood has just been taken to the cleaners, and he isn't happy. So he challenges superior dork again. And once again his ass is handed to him. Inferior dork is now angry, livid, blaming the controller ("NO FAIR, MY BUTTON STUCK!!"), the game ("I HIT HIM, I HIT HIM! THIS FREAKING GAME CHEATS!!"), or some other random factor that has nothing to do with it (DAMMIT, I COULD BEAT YOU IF I HADN'T EATEN ALL THAT SPAGHETTI!!!). Then he proceeds to make sure everybody who witnessed his demise at the hands of Super Dork understands that this is the excuse he is going with. ("Man, I can't believe the button stuck. Can you? Look at it. Try it, I bet it sticks. Oh sure it doesn't stick for you. Of course. Man did you see that though, I had him, then the button stuck. It stuck, I swear. Why else wouldn't I have hit you? You were open for the kill shot. It stuck. The button. The button stuck.") Sometimes watching people play video games is more entertaining than the games themselves.

These are it. The best games. The games no one comes out with anymore, because people are somehoiw satisfied with Real Fishin'. Adventure games. Games with a plot, a story that you are in. The 7th Guest, Phantasmagoria, Tex Murphy, Myst, Riven, The Longest Journey. These games require too much thought for some. They'd rather turn left for hours. Me? I need a game with an inventory or puzzles and a plot with characters that talk and there's twists and turns and you don't know what will happen next, and the soundtrack is cool and you can talk to other characters and pick what you're saying, and you have to be smart to figure stuff out. You have to go back and see where you've been to see where you're going. Of course, this doesn't fit in with the kill everything motif, and these games aren't around anymore.

Original new ideas never catch on because no one lets them. Tender Loving Care pretty much flopped, though it was given the title of Best DVD Game for the year it came out. Majestic is one I've gotten into, a video game that calls you at home, emails you, IM's you. That's never been done before, and may never be done again. I don't think we've sold a single copy.

But man, Wolfenstein 138: Return to Castle Wolfenstein?? We can't keep that on the shelves.