Today

I saw an inflated rubber glove billowing in the streets.  Why and how were the only things I could think when I drove by it bouncing and rolling around my neighborhood.  A rubber glove is weird enough, let alone an inflated one.  It was almost surreal; I thought I was hallucinating. 

Anyway, Blogger, it seems that our semester together is coming to an end soon.  I had to keep you for creative writing, and now that the class is over, I'm not 100% sure if we'll keep in touch.  I'm not much for long goodbyes, but I'll try to make an exception.  I'll write what comes to me, and what gets filtered through my journals for studio classes (or maybe the opposite, I haven't decided yet.)

Ah screw it, I'll probably end up posting tomorrow, I think this is an addiction, honestly.

-Captain J. M. Sanders

I think blogger has capped me out at 39 posts.  I swear to god I keep posting one and it keeps saying 39.  Anyway, last week had nothing posted because it was really too busy.  I didn't have the tools to write, so obviously I wasn't reading either (or something like that.)

The weather is damp, and like damper than damp.  It's crotch damp here.

I haven't been taking naps after work lately, beacause I feel like my overall performance is affected for the rest of the day, but I think I may make an exception today, considering how I spelled because wrong a while back but I haven't corrected it yet.

Good night.

-Rumms X. Umber

Best Review for a movie I havent seen.

Atlas Shrugged?  More like I shrugged.

13.

Today I deleted my Facebook, guys!  I've never felt so powerful before :D.

Seriously though, I am reminded of when Siddhartha had left the presence of Gotama the Enlightened One. He had felt himself no longer tied to his old life. He gained a reverence for the world, and was able to continue on without looking back.

The way they tried to stop me.  They told me friends would miss me, that I could make facebook useful.  That my girlfriend  would miss me.  I almost felt sad, as if I was leaving forever my friends or experiencing death.

Death, as it is read in Tarot, doesn't exactly mean the end of life.  It represents a change, a new outlook, a different relationship.  It is an exciting card to receive, really.  It means it's time to move on with yourself and start over.  That doesn't mean get rid of everything beforehand.  I will continue to be with my girlfriend (Death can represent marriage too, isn't that funny!?), talk to my friends, and see them-especially when the summer rolls around!  I'm still creating art.  I am still passionate about the graphic novel.

Take this with you, guys:  When something ends, is it really over?  The world doesn't cease, even when it becomes dust.  A catastrophe is only a catastrophe in our eyes, because the end of our lives doesn't seem so beautiful in the wonderful scheme of the world.

The Internet and Me: Why Some Relationships Just Don't Work Out

I began browsing the internet as a child, of the mind that this was the big shit.  I could use Altavista or Webcrawler to find any inadequate amount of information about something as I could (This was before Google or Wikipedia.  Finding anything using the internet was a crapshoot.)  As I grew up, so did the internet.  We both came into our own, and I got it in my head that it was a legitimate place to share ideas and enjoy being able to talk to someone miles away.  I don't know where the hell I got this idea, because I can barely get along with people who are not anonymous and at the very least responsible for what they say to me.

So, for a while, I kicked around the internet, I even tried doing freelance work as a designer/artist.  You don't know how far your head needs to be up your ass to make any sorts of success on DeviantArt until you try to do it.  You literally need to make it a job to be as much of a kiss-ass as possible, and you can make some headway, even if you don't know foreshortening from foreskin.  When it made art wholly unfun, I left, because I didn't need my hobby/career choice to be miserable at age 20 (I also wasn't even getting jobs).  That was the first lesson I learned: No one cares about your shit until you make them care about your shit.

Because when all meaning fails, draw a funny face and you too can get an LOL from a stranger in Vancouver

So, Facebook, also.  It's supposed to be...for...what's it supposed to be for?  Do I keep in touch with people I don't see anymore? (Not really, I usually just send them irreverent crap, which I guess was our relationship before they left the state/city.)  More often than not though, I have to sift through my (by the way, not very large) pool of Facebook friends, honestly looking through senseless text that just makes me embarrassed to look at, oh and rage comics.  God, once one of your friends finds reddit.com it's like all the shit from reddit just gets plastered all over their Facebook wall.  By this point (the point where Facebook is recognizing my face to tag photos) I've learned my second lesson about the internet: Deactivate your Facebook and never look back; you were better off before it existed.

I know it really sounds like I'm taking a "holier than thou/too good for this shit" attitude, but that's because I am.  The internet is a vast, vast land of fantastic freedom and global connections, and the only thing I can seem to find redeeming about it is the pornography (the relatively virus free stuff, anyway).  I wish I had never hooked myself into all this crap, because I'm pretty sure I was better at entertaining myself than by clicking on here.  Anyway, just letting you know, Blogger, that I have my goddamn eye on you. (Did I already say this a few posts ago?)

-Willing J. Knowles

Aw!  Thanks www.cuteoverload.com!

P.S. Oh, the pictures of cats and doggies are probably the only other thing that's worth doing on the internet.  Aw!

Facebook apparently is able to read your face and automatically tag you in photos.  I've never seen it first hand, but someone made a comment about it (assuming they weren't joking.)

I am

Deactivating

My Facebook account.  As soon as an entity of data knows my face just  by looking at is is when I cheese it from technology.  Do developers get off on making their websites and robots creepy as all hell by being smart?  Don't we know where this goes yet?

Fight me, Blogger.  I know you're fucking in on this too.

-Devlin A. Rutherfordson

Got really mad at this:

I had to read the graphic novel Fun Home for my class on graphic memoirs.  I spent a few hours reading the first half, got bored and ended up reading American Born Chinese (which was actually removed from the curriculum because of delays) and finishing it in less time than I had spent reading Fun Home. 

The difference was that I had really liked American Born Chinese. 

I have a theory as to why I so dislike Fun Home, and Alison Bechdel makes it so apparent in the work:  Her rampant use of Joyce inspired imagery and constant, overbearing and obvious allusions/references to Fitzgerald, Proust and Camus are just annoying.  It feels like I'm reading Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man again, except a comic book version of it, and that's something I'd really not rather half-read again.  I wouldn't mind so much these literary allusions, as I am ALL for that kind of crap, but, like, instead of using the medium of the graphic novel to create some kind of tension or use the visual elements of a graphic novel to tell things that words can only spoil, everything is narrated by the author in a pretty sterile manner.  The author's voice is so disconnected and matter of fact-ly, that it makes me wonder why I should even care about her story.  All of the clever elements of her story are undercut by the paragraph of text on each page explaining why her dad's death was ironic.  Is it really irony if you have to tell me it is?

P.S. I know I probably sound all kinds of ignorant for not "getting" James Joyce, but I think his work carries so much pomp with it that it makes me angry just reading it aloud, so I don't care

The best thing:

This is part of the scientifically "least desirable song."  A song designed to have elements that, according to surveys, has no popular elements.  I don't know, I sort of like it

Today was the day I was called in to work to attempt to shift around the holiday stuff in our weird storage room.  I came to a chilling realization-but first, a bit of background:

My store used to be a Super Fresh back in the 90's.  It has since closed down to become an arts and crafts store.  However, even if a store is re-purposed, it still contains the elements of its predecessors (see any Wawa or Pizza Hut, their architecture is wholly unique).  As such, since I began to work there, I often wondered where some of those parts were, namely the giant walk in fridge.  I thought that it was tucked away in this boarded up corner we continually barricaded with unsold glass jars and American flags and left it at that. 

Anyway, I was talking to my co-worker about this today, and ironically, as I walked out of the storage closet literally jam packed with unsold holiday merchandise, I noticed a big metal doorframe around this rooms entrance.  Then it hit me: I had been working in what was the refrigerator all day.  That doorway, the one that had bolts removed from the hinges, bolts big enough to hold a very heavy door in place, had to be to a cold storage room.  Then I imagined it.  Being hip deep in sandals and 5 dollar pairs of sunglasses in a subzero cooler, with the door shut.  This thought is probably on my top 20 list of ways I don't want to die, just below mauled by a bear, and just above crushed by one of those metal crushing deals they have at the dump.

I had a dream I think.

About a guy who dies and comes back from the dead.  He hated his life, anyway, but doesn't start liking being around til he has some adventures as a dead guy.  Man i just needed to write that down, because it sounds stupid as hell..

No class tomorrow, which I can live with.  I'd love to go protest the shit our fantastic elected officials are doing to our appropriations for education, but I have assignments and classes I can't skip.

Jesus I am not looking forward to looking for a grad school.  It's driving me nutty, but sculpture and I are on even terms right now.

Okay, that's all I got tonight.

Just wanna type

I haven't been blogging this week, oops!  I'm more in the mood for actually writing, and considering I have to write like, 20 pages of work for my final, it would be a prudent choice to focus my creativity on this.  Really it's just that I haven't got to physically typing it, but that all changes tonight (I hope.)

Life has teetered from not bad to absurdly dull and aggravating as of late.  I enjoyed the luxury of going outside without putting on a jacket today.  That's the best feeling in the world, when you can just go outside.  No worries about the nightmarish wailing of the polar winds.  Nothing feels better (except...well YOU know.)

I bought a pair of clippers with which to cut my cat's nails.  Every time I mention it I get a "good luck" with sarcasm attached.  I don't know.  My cat's can be sort of nasty, but I also have the ability to do just about whatever I want to them without them getting too mad at me.  It's all about timing, I hope.

I'll give you the scoop on how my cat's nail situation is doing some other time.