riaP
People overreact. It's a fact of life. Sometimes it can be over something as simple and trivial as a misspelling, like I have been known to sometimes do. Sometimes it can be over the usage of a word that totally doesn't exist in any English dictionary anywhere, like I did once. Politicians are judged by how often or seldom they overreact. And other times it can be over something silly like a combination of misspelling that just so happens to end up being something offensive to one overly-sensitive individual. The game of Drawception I've included below this paragraph is a perfect example of such an over reaction. In the comments below the actual game (You will need to click on the picture itself in order to read the comments.), one user in particular took offense to one player's spelling error in panel #3 saying that it was disrespectful to not capitalize the 'g' in 'god' and also to confuse him for a dog or something. The drama was short-lived and actually isn't all that interesting, but I remember laughing heavily when I first saw it because I can just imagine that whiner being an uptight Bible thumper in real life who becomes mortified and overcome by fury when somebody so much as uses God's name in vain. Some people need to grow a pair. I don't what type of pair. A pair of testicles, eyes, ovaries or brain hemispheres. Just grow a pair. Oh yeah, and I drew panel #14 in this particular game.
Aside from Drawception, I'd like to tell you about a chunk of a dream I partially remembered. It's the first time in weeks that I've remembered even a small part of a dream, so I'd like to spread my subconscious around the Internet, if I could.
The segment of dream I remember begins and ends in my house. More specifically, it takes place in my dining room. The whole dream was in first person perspective. I was standing in between the dining room table and the window as I spoke to my brother Shaun who was using the stove in the kitchen. I don't remember what we were talking about, and I don't remember what he was cooking. After a few moments of chatter, he looked towards me, pointed at the table and said, "Something came for you in the mail."
I looked down and to the right. On the table was a brown cardboard box in the shape of a perfect cube. It was about a six-inch cube, more or less. I opened it and saw that it contained several plastic bags full of drugs?! Bryan the dreamer was shocked and perplexed. Bryan within the dream was delighted and grateful. Apparently, I was expecting this package and said, "Aha, it's about time it got here!" Shaun saw the contents of the box and said nothing. He went back to cooking while I took a fist full of whatever was inside there and shoved it directly into my mouth. I have no idea what it was. But almost as soon as I swallowed the mouthful, the world around me began to distort. I was still in the dining room, but lines and colors became distorted and disfigured. Rigid blue walls of wood and dry rock now resembled flimsy bluish waves of waffles and modeling clay.
Not much happened after that oneiric hallucination. I seem to remember my brother saying something along the lines of, "He's still expecting that package." I didn't know who 'he' was, but it didn't matter because that's when I woke up. I could have sworn the box and its contents were real. For such a short dream, it certainly left an impression on me. Only two or three other dreams have managed to stay stuck in my brain as if they were actual memories of my life. This one will not be one of them, but if the dream carried on for a bit longer or if I had a bit more context, it certainly might have.
Moving on from the imaginary, I should probably mention the latest kickstarter.com project I've put money behind. There are only three days left in its fundraising process, but if you care about the quality and fidelity about your computer's sound, then look no further than the GEEK. It is a USB-mounted digital to analog converter (DAC). Once the aparatus is plugged into your computer, the internal hardware and software get right to work transforming the normal audio coming out of your computer in a three-dimensional soundscape. Er, I'm sure it's explained better on their kickstarter page. They've already exceeded their fundraising goal by 900%, but you can totally contribute money if you want a DAC of your own. There is a jack for your headphones, too, so you can listen to all of your favorite songs the way they were meant to be heard, probably.
I called the apartment lady on Friday to see if we could finalize the paperwork regarding my apartment, but nobody picked up. So, I left a voicemail. Tomorrow (today), I'll have to make a follow-up call just to be persistent and driven. If I wait much longer, this opportunity will surely pass me by. I can't forget that I am a procrastinator. And I get used to cold comfort quite easily. It's one of my most glaring negative traits. Most people in my position would be out searching for a better job than a warehouse generalist and may probably have such a job by now. Most people in my position would very likely be moving on to their second or third apartment by now. Most people in my position wouldn't spend so much time thinking and writing about this stuff and would just get right down to it. I'm not happy with how things are currently, but I am certainly not complaining about how things are, either. That shouldn't be. Isn't it odd? I KNOW that I ought to be out there seeing the world, taking road trips across the country and seeing what life is like in other time zones. I've only ever been on an airplane twice in my life. I've barely seen what it's like outside of New Jersey. However, I feel nothing but apprehension. It's the same old story. My cold feet could freeze an ocean. I've got to light a fire under my ass. And if that means burning myself, then I'll just have to tough it out.
Dad's birthday was on Saturday the 7th. To celebrate we went to the Dubh Linn Square Inn on Rt. 130 north. If you'll recall, my family and I have been there once before to celebrate my brother's birthday way back in January. That time we were on the bottom floor enjoying the more-than-passable food, good beer, and live music. This time we were on the top floor enjoying the more-than-passable food, good beer, and drunken people playing darts. It was such a huge difference between the two experiences! Downstairs sounded so active and engaging. Upstairs was noticeably more quiet and dull. At least we could hear each other talking, though. No need to shout. I had a shepherd's pie. I like Mom's better. Mom had salmon. Dad enjoyed some fish and chips. And I drank a delicious pumpkin ale. Plus, I paid for the whole meal as part of the birthday gift to Dad. I also made him my own birthday card using just a sheet of printer paper and a pencil. And I gave him a small and lightweight LED computer monitor because the screen on the laptop Shaun and I got him has stopped working properly. Blech... And then we played ping pong downstairs. Dad is getting much better, but he gets angry at himself too easily. He hits the ball harder than he needs to and sends it flying. It's a ping pong ball. Most of what you need to do is manipulate its trajectory and not add even more speed to the ball unless you're using some kind of tactics or going in for the kill shot. Once in between games we trained by just going back and forth working on our accuracy instead of competing, and he did much much better. I think his compulsion to 'put junior [me] in his place' overpowers his mindset in the game and he gets too aggressive. I don't know- just guessing.
And I think I'l end things by asking a question. Coke or Pepsi? Hah, just kidding. Although, feel free to answer that one, too. No, the question I will ask is this: Would you rather be a great dancer only when you're alone or be a great public speaker only in front of two or three people? Plus, this dancing and speaking cannot be recorded in video form because magic or something. I think I'd go with the public speaking. I never cared much for dancing anyway. Is this question too easy? I get the feeling most people would go with public speaking, too. Oh, and I prefer Coke. Definitely Coke.
I just watched Toy Story 3. Awesome.-
Bryan
m- B11 - July 1
B12 - p. 115
Aside from Drawception, I'd like to tell you about a chunk of a dream I partially remembered. It's the first time in weeks that I've remembered even a small part of a dream, so I'd like to spread my subconscious around the Internet, if I could.
The segment of dream I remember begins and ends in my house. More specifically, it takes place in my dining room. The whole dream was in first person perspective. I was standing in between the dining room table and the window as I spoke to my brother Shaun who was using the stove in the kitchen. I don't remember what we were talking about, and I don't remember what he was cooking. After a few moments of chatter, he looked towards me, pointed at the table and said, "Something came for you in the mail."
I looked down and to the right. On the table was a brown cardboard box in the shape of a perfect cube. It was about a six-inch cube, more or less. I opened it and saw that it contained several plastic bags full of drugs?! Bryan the dreamer was shocked and perplexed. Bryan within the dream was delighted and grateful. Apparently, I was expecting this package and said, "Aha, it's about time it got here!" Shaun saw the contents of the box and said nothing. He went back to cooking while I took a fist full of whatever was inside there and shoved it directly into my mouth. I have no idea what it was. But almost as soon as I swallowed the mouthful, the world around me began to distort. I was still in the dining room, but lines and colors became distorted and disfigured. Rigid blue walls of wood and dry rock now resembled flimsy bluish waves of waffles and modeling clay.
Not much happened after that oneiric hallucination. I seem to remember my brother saying something along the lines of, "He's still expecting that package." I didn't know who 'he' was, but it didn't matter because that's when I woke up. I could have sworn the box and its contents were real. For such a short dream, it certainly left an impression on me. Only two or three other dreams have managed to stay stuck in my brain as if they were actual memories of my life. This one will not be one of them, but if the dream carried on for a bit longer or if I had a bit more context, it certainly might have.
Moving on from the imaginary, I should probably mention the latest kickstarter.com project I've put money behind. There are only three days left in its fundraising process, but if you care about the quality and fidelity about your computer's sound, then look no further than the GEEK. It is a USB-mounted digital to analog converter (DAC). Once the aparatus is plugged into your computer, the internal hardware and software get right to work transforming the normal audio coming out of your computer in a three-dimensional soundscape. Er, I'm sure it's explained better on their kickstarter page. They've already exceeded their fundraising goal by 900%, but you can totally contribute money if you want a DAC of your own. There is a jack for your headphones, too, so you can listen to all of your favorite songs the way they were meant to be heard, probably.
I called the apartment lady on Friday to see if we could finalize the paperwork regarding my apartment, but nobody picked up. So, I left a voicemail. Tomorrow (today), I'll have to make a follow-up call just to be persistent and driven. If I wait much longer, this opportunity will surely pass me by. I can't forget that I am a procrastinator. And I get used to cold comfort quite easily. It's one of my most glaring negative traits. Most people in my position would be out searching for a better job than a warehouse generalist and may probably have such a job by now. Most people in my position would very likely be moving on to their second or third apartment by now. Most people in my position wouldn't spend so much time thinking and writing about this stuff and would just get right down to it. I'm not happy with how things are currently, but I am certainly not complaining about how things are, either. That shouldn't be. Isn't it odd? I KNOW that I ought to be out there seeing the world, taking road trips across the country and seeing what life is like in other time zones. I've only ever been on an airplane twice in my life. I've barely seen what it's like outside of New Jersey. However, I feel nothing but apprehension. It's the same old story. My cold feet could freeze an ocean. I've got to light a fire under my ass. And if that means burning myself, then I'll just have to tough it out.
Dad's birthday was on Saturday the 7th. To celebrate we went to the Dubh Linn Square Inn on Rt. 130 north. If you'll recall, my family and I have been there once before to celebrate my brother's birthday way back in January. That time we were on the bottom floor enjoying the more-than-passable food, good beer, and live music. This time we were on the top floor enjoying the more-than-passable food, good beer, and drunken people playing darts. It was such a huge difference between the two experiences! Downstairs sounded so active and engaging. Upstairs was noticeably more quiet and dull. At least we could hear each other talking, though. No need to shout. I had a shepherd's pie. I like Mom's better. Mom had salmon. Dad enjoyed some fish and chips. And I drank a delicious pumpkin ale. Plus, I paid for the whole meal as part of the birthday gift to Dad. I also made him my own birthday card using just a sheet of printer paper and a pencil. And I gave him a small and lightweight LED computer monitor because the screen on the laptop Shaun and I got him has stopped working properly. Blech... And then we played ping pong downstairs. Dad is getting much better, but he gets angry at himself too easily. He hits the ball harder than he needs to and sends it flying. It's a ping pong ball. Most of what you need to do is manipulate its trajectory and not add even more speed to the ball unless you're using some kind of tactics or going in for the kill shot. Once in between games we trained by just going back and forth working on our accuracy instead of competing, and he did much much better. I think his compulsion to 'put junior [me] in his place' overpowers his mindset in the game and he gets too aggressive. I don't know- just guessing.
And I think I'l end things by asking a question. Coke or Pepsi? Hah, just kidding. Although, feel free to answer that one, too. No, the question I will ask is this: Would you rather be a great dancer only when you're alone or be a great public speaker only in front of two or three people? Plus, this dancing and speaking cannot be recorded in video form because magic or something. I think I'd go with the public speaking. I never cared much for dancing anyway. Is this question too easy? I get the feeling most people would go with public speaking, too. Oh, and I prefer Coke. Definitely Coke.
I just watched Toy Story 3. Awesome.-
Bryan
m- B11 - July 1
B12 - p. 115