Irony's Child
Things don't ever go as planned. Ever.
But enough of that. Things to say. What to say. I have a little notebook that I am using now to jot stuff down that I want to talk about here, because I'm just that much of a dork. Let's see here.
Ok, so there isn't much here. I have started learning HTML, and the history of the internet, because I need stuff to study. It's also given me some nice little story ideas. For instance, I can't help but wonder if one the the internet couldn't be considered a living thing. I mean, it's a compendium of knowledge and communication that is fueled by electricity. It's a cellular organism. Each server would be one of these. It has a nervous system, and has a micromanageable immune system, which is used to defend against viruses. Like a real immune system, we can only fight diseases that have already invaded its body. It's like a giant nervous system unto itself. The only work a writer would have to do to convert the internet into its own creature would be to try and define what sort of consciousness it would have. What would the internet do with itself if it suddenly became self-aware. Would it become moral? When so much of it is composed of sex and death and religion, it would be so much more dynamic than any one person could be. Right, so I have a story idea about something that isn't necesarily impossible.
What brought all this on? Learning what the internet is really made of, and a little about how it really works.
On another lane of the same highway, I've also been working on a nice new fantasy story. I'm happy with it, because it's not the deep philosophical monster that Azyr has become. It's just a simple story that has potential to be fun. My character is named Zideon. He's got one "power". Sympathy. On a telepathic level, of course, but really that's all he's got in his arsenal. It's got some nice little tangential benefits, but I'm not going to discuss those here.
So, what else is there? I've discovered in myself a deep and unabiding resentment for the human race, despite the fact that I can't help but feel they aren't all that bad. Every time I watch the so-called news, or see a multimedia monument to stupidity like late night dating shows, I feel my brain trying to throttle itself, knowing that escape is surely the best way out of this.
I read about some new law passed somewhere that represses some human right, in the name of "homeland security", a phrase not used since Hitler's regime, and cringe. I here about the so-called Patriot Act, and wonder what happened to the minds of these elected officials, that they would jump onto this cattle-drive bandwagon just because it has the word "patriotic" slapped across the side in bright red letters, and I realize that they never had minds in the first place. Go, Robot, Go!
Then there's television. Plenty of nice half-hour doses of comedy interspersed with hour long talk-shows that showcase the worst humanity has to display. Fashionably dressed morons clutch their microphones and show this zoo to an audience of avid finger-pointing sleaze addicts, and I find myself watching in horrid fascination. We should just get it over with, and start having public displays of ritual mutilation. I can just see these hosts digging their fingers into the fetid entrails of their "guests", spreading out their shit and fluids on a tarp for all to see. Wrap this one up, give them a final thought, and find our next example. "This is what you really look like, underneath it all."
Then there's late at night, when I can't sleep for the life of me. And I see programs like "elimidate". What the hell is that all about? Why not show exactly how shallow human beings can truly be? I see the next step in reality television. Lock ten people in a darkened box, with no air holes, food or water, and use infrared cameras to see how they live out their last moments. Maybe we can even let the last one alive back out. There's some body politic for you. It would be a hell of a lot less mindless that the mud they're putting out there now.
Want a real soap opera? Stick hidden cameras all over the house of some lower middle class family living in the burbs without them knowing about it. Or better yet, a backwoods country family. Find some fat, inbred genetic retard pig-farmer in his yellow stained wife-beater, appropriately named because that's exactly what he is. The ratings would soar. Just like my blood pressure whenever I see the kind of crap that gets aired on network channels.
Of course, I'm not out of fault, here. I am just as self-absorbed, microcosmic, and full of dirty little secrets and unfortunate personality flaws as anyone else. I won't even try to think of things that would set me apart. I'm in this mess like everyone else.
Does God enter into it? Maybe. I've done an unfortunate amount of thinking on the subject, and realized that, in the end, I don't care if God exists or not. I don't care if there's a heaven or a hell. I don't care if the bible is true, or if reincarnation is true, or if a meteor is going to kill us all. I'm not worried about it. I'm not depressed. In fact, I'm rather happier this way. Am I mad at humanity? Sometimes. Sometimes I think the world is the greatest thing, though. I don't even alternate, anymore, really. Simultaneously, I am enthralled and disgusted by what I see around me every day. I am in love with and appalled at the duplicity of "God" or "Nature".
In other words, I have plenty of opinions to go around. They don't run out, because they're never the same two days in a row, and never the same to seconds in a row. I'm human, for what it's worth.
It's like a lover. I see the beauty of things. I look around and can't believe how lucky I am to have existed at all. Then I see what people have done with it, this gift. There are those who believe that existance itself is a sin, or that being born is punishable by death. In one of my own stories, I'm looking into what birth really means, and if the sudden exposure to oxygen, noise, color and smell isn't responsible for driving every single one of us insane. We kill one another, for the right to live? We destroy what was there in the name of what should be.
So, what else? I'm skipping out on wednesday night bible study at the church I'm pretending to go to. It's funny how much better you can get at argueing a point when you're immersed to your ears in the opposite opinion. I don't like what I here there, and therefore I am forced to fill in the gaps in my own system. I should amend myself. I would like not to care. I would like never to hear another word about God, because it's never anything I can make myself believe. I just don't know what I do believe. It's a process of elimination that I use to take up the time until I die and find out.
So, that's it in a nutshell. My writing is optomistic and my life is optomistic, and my mind is way out there in misanthropyville.
That's all I have for now, kiddos.
Affectionately,
Nick, the unabridged
Quote of the Day:
Me (making fun of the character from Silent Hill): What? What's going on? What...What's going on? What's...(begin walking around in a daze, eyes glazed, head bobbing in circles)...What? What's going on...on...on..What...on....what's going...
But enough of that. Things to say. What to say. I have a little notebook that I am using now to jot stuff down that I want to talk about here, because I'm just that much of a dork. Let's see here.
Ok, so there isn't much here. I have started learning HTML, and the history of the internet, because I need stuff to study. It's also given me some nice little story ideas. For instance, I can't help but wonder if one the the internet couldn't be considered a living thing. I mean, it's a compendium of knowledge and communication that is fueled by electricity. It's a cellular organism. Each server would be one of these. It has a nervous system, and has a micromanageable immune system, which is used to defend against viruses. Like a real immune system, we can only fight diseases that have already invaded its body. It's like a giant nervous system unto itself. The only work a writer would have to do to convert the internet into its own creature would be to try and define what sort of consciousness it would have. What would the internet do with itself if it suddenly became self-aware. Would it become moral? When so much of it is composed of sex and death and religion, it would be so much more dynamic than any one person could be. Right, so I have a story idea about something that isn't necesarily impossible.
What brought all this on? Learning what the internet is really made of, and a little about how it really works.
On another lane of the same highway, I've also been working on a nice new fantasy story. I'm happy with it, because it's not the deep philosophical monster that Azyr has become. It's just a simple story that has potential to be fun. My character is named Zideon. He's got one "power". Sympathy. On a telepathic level, of course, but really that's all he's got in his arsenal. It's got some nice little tangential benefits, but I'm not going to discuss those here.
So, what else is there? I've discovered in myself a deep and unabiding resentment for the human race, despite the fact that I can't help but feel they aren't all that bad. Every time I watch the so-called news, or see a multimedia monument to stupidity like late night dating shows, I feel my brain trying to throttle itself, knowing that escape is surely the best way out of this.
I read about some new law passed somewhere that represses some human right, in the name of "homeland security", a phrase not used since Hitler's regime, and cringe. I here about the so-called Patriot Act, and wonder what happened to the minds of these elected officials, that they would jump onto this cattle-drive bandwagon just because it has the word "patriotic" slapped across the side in bright red letters, and I realize that they never had minds in the first place. Go, Robot, Go!
Then there's television. Plenty of nice half-hour doses of comedy interspersed with hour long talk-shows that showcase the worst humanity has to display. Fashionably dressed morons clutch their microphones and show this zoo to an audience of avid finger-pointing sleaze addicts, and I find myself watching in horrid fascination. We should just get it over with, and start having public displays of ritual mutilation. I can just see these hosts digging their fingers into the fetid entrails of their "guests", spreading out their shit and fluids on a tarp for all to see. Wrap this one up, give them a final thought, and find our next example. "This is what you really look like, underneath it all."
Then there's late at night, when I can't sleep for the life of me. And I see programs like "elimidate". What the hell is that all about? Why not show exactly how shallow human beings can truly be? I see the next step in reality television. Lock ten people in a darkened box, with no air holes, food or water, and use infrared cameras to see how they live out their last moments. Maybe we can even let the last one alive back out. There's some body politic for you. It would be a hell of a lot less mindless that the mud they're putting out there now.
Want a real soap opera? Stick hidden cameras all over the house of some lower middle class family living in the burbs without them knowing about it. Or better yet, a backwoods country family. Find some fat, inbred genetic retard pig-farmer in his yellow stained wife-beater, appropriately named because that's exactly what he is. The ratings would soar. Just like my blood pressure whenever I see the kind of crap that gets aired on network channels.
Of course, I'm not out of fault, here. I am just as self-absorbed, microcosmic, and full of dirty little secrets and unfortunate personality flaws as anyone else. I won't even try to think of things that would set me apart. I'm in this mess like everyone else.
Does God enter into it? Maybe. I've done an unfortunate amount of thinking on the subject, and realized that, in the end, I don't care if God exists or not. I don't care if there's a heaven or a hell. I don't care if the bible is true, or if reincarnation is true, or if a meteor is going to kill us all. I'm not worried about it. I'm not depressed. In fact, I'm rather happier this way. Am I mad at humanity? Sometimes. Sometimes I think the world is the greatest thing, though. I don't even alternate, anymore, really. Simultaneously, I am enthralled and disgusted by what I see around me every day. I am in love with and appalled at the duplicity of "God" or "Nature".
In other words, I have plenty of opinions to go around. They don't run out, because they're never the same two days in a row, and never the same to seconds in a row. I'm human, for what it's worth.
It's like a lover. I see the beauty of things. I look around and can't believe how lucky I am to have existed at all. Then I see what people have done with it, this gift. There are those who believe that existance itself is a sin, or that being born is punishable by death. In one of my own stories, I'm looking into what birth really means, and if the sudden exposure to oxygen, noise, color and smell isn't responsible for driving every single one of us insane. We kill one another, for the right to live? We destroy what was there in the name of what should be.
So, what else? I'm skipping out on wednesday night bible study at the church I'm pretending to go to. It's funny how much better you can get at argueing a point when you're immersed to your ears in the opposite opinion. I don't like what I here there, and therefore I am forced to fill in the gaps in my own system. I should amend myself. I would like not to care. I would like never to hear another word about God, because it's never anything I can make myself believe. I just don't know what I do believe. It's a process of elimination that I use to take up the time until I die and find out.
So, that's it in a nutshell. My writing is optomistic and my life is optomistic, and my mind is way out there in misanthropyville.
That's all I have for now, kiddos.
Affectionately,
Nick, the unabridged
Quote of the Day:
Me (making fun of the character from Silent Hill): What? What's going on? What...What's going on? What's...(begin walking around in a daze, eyes glazed, head bobbing in circles)...What? What's going on...on...on..What...on....what's going...