Wednesday, September 28, 2005

The Human Race Stole The Soul

*attention human beings: how you gonna sleep when your left foot seems to think it's covered in starving, fucking ravenous ants? for some reason, it feels better on the arm of the couch in front of the stupid desk, so...*

Yahweh Prophet

Coast2CoastAM Story


That was one of the coolest things I thought coulda happened this year...kinda poo'ed out in the end, but I dug the guy. At least he had something to show you, goddammit. People went to war on this planet over weapons they never even saw and still haven't been shown...more than once!!
Fuck it. I wish Yahweh Prophet woulda brought down an entire fleet of ufo's that wiped our punk asses out "Mars Attacks"-style. Nothing cool happens anymore. The future is a fucking ripoff.
I don't want a flat-screen t.v. I want a fucking chip that goes into my brain and makes me think I'm a 19-year-old-girl taking a shower, like Strange Days said I'd get. I don't want a 4-door pickup, I want to Jaunt, Stephen King Style- where you lay on a little cot, a stewerdess gasses you out, your particles are seperated and accelerated and rebuilt into "you" at any other destination anywhere in the universe in less than a second (unless you're foolhearty enough to try to stay awake, in which case your conscience is aware of the entire experience which lasts about 1 million years in your memory and seems to make people wanna gouge their eyes out).
Imagination is confined to fiction. The simple observers compliment themselves on how clever they are and go back to work rotating bottles of Yoo-Hoo to see if the "cap's not sitting on there right" (I did it for about 2 weeks with B4A. It's pretty hypnotic). Nobody thinks in practical application of the cool shit, but somehow, they've already figured out how to turn real life into a Coca-Cola commercial and vice versa.
Are there NO MADMEN? I mean, not like these pussies that exist within the system like Hussein & Bush and all the war-guys like that, but just FREE-AGENT-TECHNO-PUNK-CRAZY-MUTHAFUCKAS? 

Some kid figures out nanotechnology in the early 90's and has this machine in his garage he been working on and it gets to the point where his mom asks what's up and all of a sudden the plug's pulled, the machine's taken apart, and the dude's like, drafted or something...I read that in "The Pleasure Of Finding Things Out" by Richard Feynman.
Good book...but my point is, what do they have that guy doing these days? You know? And, also, how many more kids were figuring it out at the time and what are THOSE guys doing these days?
Diseases suck. Clee's been telling me about this superflu in the birds in Asia and how scientists and doctors have been saying to catch up for a while now,  cause it wants to jump to humans now and we gotta get crackin on this shit now. I mean, that scares the fuck outta me. Chemical warfare...all that nasty shit... that's what scares me about zombie movies...there's no dignity in that crap.
But really...where's the guy who can appear in some bank vault and disappear with all the money cause of some machine his retarded son made? These aren't about ALIENS or some other force we can't control. It's HUMAN IDEAS and in an alternate universe, they already exist just because they were thought of, so fuck...who are you fooling?
You buncha tattle-tails who wrote each other's name on the board when the teacher was out of the room. Boring nobodies. Who's gonna skip a few pages and build a teleporter? You'd fucking CRUSH the world under your greedy little thumb.
 I can think of so MANY stupid fucking evil inventions that I either read about, saw in a movie or made up. I can make them up as I go, for god's sake...why none of them in our dimension?
When you're watching a movie you REALLY love, think:
or Socrates or Hitler or the first monkey that came down outta the trees...
is this the one you'd  show them? All that shit. Would the person you're imagining even comprehend what's going on in any way? or would it be just utter nonsense to their eyes and ears?
Man, if you could time travel even a LITTLE bit, you could fuck shit up...but i guess it'll never happen in this dimension, cause we wouldn't even be here if there was gonna be a paradox.
What about just goofy robots and flying cars like on The Jetsons?
Man, we're just PAST DUE for a James-Bond-Level-Global-Terrorist situation.
It's 2005!!!!!
and all that.
Even if this boring, rated-pg reality is all I get to see in this lifetime, it doesn't mean I should be satisfied just KNOWING that somewhere, in a dimension just like this one, there's a guy who is poised on threatening the world with a submarine that opens up and swallows ships and a spaceship that steals shuttles (or whatever they're gonna use now) and is ready to sink the entire surface of the Earth with a death ray that he does not even care might kill him too and wants to single-handedly repopulate the world alongside the entire female portion of the cast of BATTLE ROYALE, who he has kidnapped and are all drugged, awaiting him in his Pleasure Palace. That some kid, who might look just like me as a kid, is finishing up some machine that can make chocolate pudding outta thin air, but has no way of shutting it down cause he never planned it that far and it destroys half the city before it destroys its power source.
It doesn't comfort me to know they're there. I want to see them. I want the future like they told us we'd get. This is a buncha sellout bullshit. I do my best work in a place I can't even get to because the human race cancelled the muthafuckin future.

Tuesday, September 27, 2005

Hope Is A Burlap Sack With A Brick In It

I think I'm finally getting to the bottom of this bullshit. When I was a stupid teenager, I pretty much hated myself (for the usual reasons many other teenagers hate themselves. I'm not trying to introduce some brand-new concept here) and wished I could be dead, but, since I was scared of actually dying, I figured I would just continue wishing while I waited to see how the good guys came out in the end.
HOPE got me this far. I have that and my friends and maybe a couple of real good songs to thank for making me enjoy breathing sometimes.
 At some point, the word HOPE grew to become its very own entity. A shadowy figure looming on the edge of THE LINE. The line i cross when i'm ready to define GIVING UP.
I mean, you say it all the time: "I GIVE UP!!", but whatcha gonna do? Flip your OFF switch and slump over like a powerless droid? If you don't stick a gun in your mouth right afterwards, you're lying when you announce your giving-up-status. HOPE is that little angel or devil walking along the line making sure you are subconsciously aware of the things you're telling yourself. It's ok to lie to yourself here and there. Hell, it's probably good for you, but don't start believing that shit. HOPE is that part that hears you tell yourself that you're gonna rip you a new asshole, but never flinches cause it knows you wouldn't really do that. I think maybe that was the clearest I'm capable of explaining this, so I'll waste no more of our valuable time with examples.
Of course, HOPE lets certain things through all the time. If you give up on something give-up-able, then HOPE signs whatever the-proper-forms-for-your-particular-situation must be printed on somewhere, and lets it through. 
"Peace..." and it falls away into oblivion never to bug another soul. If you chicken out of pushing that shit over the edge after HOPE has already given you the clearance and walked off about his business, it's nobody's fault but your own. "You can lead the horse to water..." and all that.

So, enough about you. This was supposed to be about ME.
So my HOPE, assuming that you now understand who that is, got really sick of me in those self-loathing teenage years and formulated the perfect revenge for being picked last and thrown on my team:
 "I'll just randomly let him push important shit over the side and make him keep dragging around all the crap he was supposed to forget about" ...of course, all I heard was some mysterious whispering.
It's years later and HOPE quit whispering a long time ago. Now it pokes its finger into my chest while it dreams up its wild conspiracies...
"what if you give up now and everything would've worked out?"
All i can think is to push HOPE, itself, over, but what does that mean? do i stop being me and stop hoping what i hope without actually offing the ego that defines me as a person, cause i can't imagine how to be someone else? 
HOPE is one evil motherfucker and, if it's the last thing I ever do, I'm gonna take all those things that it has damned me with, for better or worse, till the grave, and shove them down its rotten little throat. I will make it apologize for forcing me to do it the way I did it, but, Goddammit, I will do it. 
If you lived in a 5' by 5' plywood box, with nothing inside but alight and a finger painting of a beautiful angel on the wall, you'd worship her by now and be incapable of understanding why anyone else wouldn't. You'd also, because of HOPE, (or mine, at least), be convinced that there was a way of being inside that painting with her as long as you believed it strongly enough. As the years went by, you'd believe it more and more strongly, regardless of failed attempts and refuted theories. 

Maybe it's just not the right time...
I'm trying too hard...
I must not believe strong enough...
What the fuck am i doing wrong?...
Maybe it'll feel sorry for me and just let me in...
It's gotta realize one day that it was meant to be...
Maybe God'll step in or some referee or something...

I've been to that place. I touched it. I held it close and it held me and everything stopped and it was good. Time does not exist there. Nobody but you and it exist. Everyone else is just an illusion dreamt up to either entertain you or suck you back into the box-world, where you only dream of it and have to go back-to-the-ole-drawing-board and argue with HOPE for awhile about if maybe this time you could just "not want it anymore"...
but, of course, HOPE hates my guts and I stumble on...perfectly aware of what a clown that makes me.
It's YOUR finger-painting you're staring at, but, despite your constant obsessing, you can't remember when you made it. It doesn't look like the goofy stick figures your artistic capabilities limit you to. This one's alot more complete and seems to have absorbed all your previous "masterpieces" and combined them into one perfect landscape.
How can you argue with that?

Friday, September 16, 2005

Spiritual Healing pt.2 (The Deep End)

* i split this bullshit into 2 parts, 1) so the 3 people bored enough to read it could take a breather from what unintentionally became the history of my lame-ass life in Eunice as a teen, and 2) because i write so slow, i ran outta time and had to go to work, so...*

Timothy Leary wrote his last official book about his terminal cancer and about the many different theories on cryogenics, downloading (and uploading) the soul onto computer, string theory implications of death and the all-in-all psychedelic experience that we all must one day face. When asked if he was interested in preserving his brain for future possibilities of resurrection he simply replied, "I've done all I wanted to do here. I wanna see what's next." (maybe those weren't the exact words, but who's writing this, asshole?)

If I would've waited to go to college when it actually woulda done me some good, I would've majored in quantum physics. I probably would've flunked out, but I can think of no subject more interesting or important to humanity in the 2000's.
Sometime in '97 or so, my girlfriend and I were watching Nova and it was an episode about the ever expanding universe. Maybe i fell asleep, but an hour after it had ended, she finally snapped me out of my daze because my eyes were open and she was getting creeped out because I wouldn't answer her or even bat an eye for that matter. I can't verify what it was, but it's the closest thing to a vision I have ever experienced. I was no longer on the couch, observing. I was there. I saw the big bang and black holes and supernovas and my new narrator (the original had apparently given up trying to get my attention too) spoke with no voice, only thoughts. I suddenly was vaguely aware of the significance of math in the universe. I became fully aware of the ongoing chain reaction of everything affecting everything else. Not just alot of things that happen at the same time, but everything. It was the first time I ever dreamed, or day-dreamed, or whatever, where I was not a present entity in the scene. I mean, first-person-view is one thing...I was not there. I saw these things in their entirety, as if I was some bodiless part of the process itself. If you've ever felt this way, you know the exhilaration involved. I came out of it feeling disoriented and a little bit afraid. I don't necessarily think in terms of visions and miracles and shit. The first thing i thought was possibly a stroke or seizure or something, but there was no shakiness, no pain...nothing.
 I've since done a little research and had several things confirmed, several things contradicted, several things altered, but the vision has grown within me. I don't see it anymore as much as feel it. I have complete and doubtless faith in the fact that there is a creator and it must be God. Not that Zeus looking guy with the fire and brimstone, sitting on a throne, passing harsh judgement on his own creation. The God I envision has no shape and is a million times more grand than all that. It is a mathematician and a philosopher...a scientist and a is omniscient, yet chaotic. It is the center of everything. The first "if" in the equation of Life, The Universe and Everything. It is the destiny of all things.
Energy cannot be destroyed. Mine can't, anyway. It disperses from the computer that was your brain and becomes part of the life-cycle as it has every time something has died in the history of anything. It carries information that you have gathered that you weren't even aware you were doing and feeds that into the DNA strand that EVERYTHING is made of. It becomes part of the program that creates life and causes that life to adapt and change according to environmental and social conditions. Every single animal on this planet is born with some advantage over its predecessors, however insignificant. It's why we're still here. In a Way, being "still here" is a good another way completely, our still being here may be numbering our days as a species. Mankind seems pretty satisfied with the current physical state we have become. Our days as "hunter, gatherers" have given way to "consumers". We shop, therefore we am. All our inventions are really just cheap improvements on old ideas that strive toward eliminating all physical labor absolutely. We knowingly allow ourselves to be conditioned by obvious brainwash techniques and pass this complacently down through the generations...then complain that they've become degenerates. We have forked the path of evolution in such a way that it may be too late to survive the declining stability of the Earth that we have taken for granted for so long.
We live by obsolete ideals. Of all the books and films on physics and their relationship to religion that i've come across, the simplest (but still pretty informative and funny) is by Tim Allen (yes, The Tool man). This is by an average guy, for the average guy. Let's stuff ole Tim in the way-back-machine and see how well he does explaining string-theory and dark matter to, say, the ancient Mayans. They'd feast on his white ass. You sometimes dumb things down for children because it's the only way to make them understand. The ancient religions were created by people who lived in constant fear of the world around them, had no idea that they were not the ONLY people on Earth and needed religion just to get them organized and progressing as a people. Would they accept your explanation of what causes a hurricane and the perfectly normal nature of it? I'm thinking "the gods are punishing us" would be way more convincing.
Join me now, in 2005, where the majority of monkeyheads still believe damn near the same stories. "God" has given us proof. DNA is the word of the creator. It's actually alot more basic than we thought it would be (not DNA itself, but the concept that it supports). I don't necessarily disbelieve the bible or its worldwide equivalents. I just know that those guys didn't have access to the information we have now. Evolution works that way. Lightning was alot scarier when you were a kid and had nothing but your own interpretation of what caused it.
It only makes sense that if energy cannot be created or destroyed, it must grow in complexity and efficiency. I have faith in that. I don't pretend to understand all the things i have faith in...I strive to, don't get me wrong, but i'm simply not smart enough. It just seems logical that if this energy continues to grow and each of us is standing on the shoulders of giants, then there must be a point. There must be a destination. There also must be a point when our understanding reaches the level of acceptance that allows us to be so bold as to entertain the notion that we are all part of an eternal process started by some great mathematical equation that is constantly working its way toward a solution. 

What's the solution? 42, Douglas Adams joked...because in all of our pondering on the answer to everything, our arrogance has blinded us to the fact that maybe the question isn't as obvious as we imagined. Maybe humanity isn't even supposed to reach the end. Maybe we are just some catalyst for a more important part of the puzzle. Maybe our destiny actually IS to destroy ourselves senselessly and thereby triggering the slight change in the solar system necessary for further development of the universe as a whole. It doesn't matter. Instinct tells us to try. Our collective programming instructs us to push forward as a species whether we like it or not...whether in the right direction or not. 
Instinct is a motherfucker. The first people ever had no contact with each other, much less knowledge of each other, yet still universally expressed their feelings in the same manner. A smile means the same thing the world over. People have fallen in love, ritualized the death of loved ones, etc. since the beginning. Some things just don't need to be taught. I envy those early folks and the empty canvas that was their world...
When did you first associate GREEN with go and RED with stop? Who taught you to read right to left or left to right or top to bottom or however it is you habitually read things? Who invented the art of standing in line and how did they convince others it was a good idea? I know I think too far into things, but, dammit, maybe somebody needs to. How much of your reality did you create and how much of it did you accept as "how things are done?" Were you born a creator or just another helpless child in the flume?

One of the things that drives me craziest in this life is having to hear my fellow monkeys comment on how everything's been done and it's all mapped out. FUCK YOU. Do you accept the current state of man, circa 2005, as mankind's destiny? Have you not enough imagination to see past the money-circle you've been born into? This is not the end of the maze. Just take a bite of that's poisoned.
We have only just begun to evolve to our next state of being. Space is a gigantic place that grows larger every second. All current theories of crossing that vastness fall short of our physically making it the distance that our technology can. Is it that nonsensical an idea to suggest that maybe part of our destiny lies in overcoming our physical form? I'm not talking about being frozen, Walt Disney style, and thawed out later when the diseases eating at our insides have been conquered...I mean, as a species, becoming non-physical it blasphemy to want to perfect ourselves to the point of discarding these shells we have occupied for so long? I hate that word. It is a non-existant limitation on the ideas that progress has blessed us with. Stem-cell research, cloning...all reguarded with such fear and disgust. What if it falls into the wrong hands? ...except that those wrong hands would have no motivation for their deeds if we were not so close minded and dogmatic in tradition in the first place. If there were no money system to reward us for work that we shoulda been willing to do for the betterment of mankind, then who would stand to gain anything by corrupting what are otherwise blessings? Our minds are so locked into the system that we were born into that it stifles all the possible applications of such technology and scares us into the silly James Bond type plots that become our reasons for not supporting new concepts and even outlawing them.
How many ways can you imagine the Earth, and humanity, meeting its demise? Can you also imagine how we might overcome these possibilities? THE LORD HELPS THOSE WHO HELP THEMSELVES.

I have faith. When i meet whatever unsavory end this world has in store for me and my energy finally disperses, erasing the ego that makes me wz3d, I take with me the ideas that have so intrigued me over the past 9 years or so. I have some conceptualization of what might be going on in that seemingly eternal instant that the waves of particles that make up my soul are hyper-accelerated and spread out across the DNA chain for further reference. I don't understand how, but i do know that all things are connected by those waves and, with everything that still exists of "ME", I hope to cheat a little by jumping across some of those connecting points and speed some of "me" along toward that final goal of all things. It's been fun hanging out with all you guys, but i wanna see God, Goddammit. What if everything I've learned and everything I believe is passed on to the next generation, but my next conscious incarnation is a moron? I can't afford to waste my evolution on people who won't appreciate it, so I'm outta here?
What do I expect to find?
 If the God I was taught to believe in isn't the God that I currently envision, is there still gonna be a heaven?
I think so. "Heaven", by my definition, would mean perfection. Not streets of gold (what the hell use would gold have?), not angels with wings (if i'm not a physical entity, why would I need wings to overcome gravity?)...just perfection. I think that you WILL get to meet Grandma and your old pets again, just not in the way you've seen in movies and shit. 
If God is the mathematician at the center of the equation, then heaven would be to exist within the solution of all that math and, by comparison, HELL would be the complete absence of God. Think about how much time we have left on this planet...all that energy recycling over and over on the same ball of sustenance until, finally, that ball can no longer sustain lifeforms or even itself.
That's the end, brothers and sisters of the Poxyclypse. Complete fucking absence of God. You were given your ticket at birth, but fear and conditioning caused you to forget where you put it and the boat sailed away. Forever.
Not me, fools. What's your favorite thing about fucking? There's all kinds of physical things that you can list. I'm a big fan of them all, I promise, but, in my mind, the number one attraction to the act of "making love" is that feeling of ONENESS with another entity. It is the closest we can be to a simultaneous physical and spiritual connection with another person. You may not always feel that your motivations toward sex are that deep, but, like I said earlier...instinct is a motherfucker.
Now imagine being a part of EVERYTHING at the same time. It's already happening, but in a dimension that we have yet to achieve passage to. If God is the center, and Heaven is being part of that center and the ultimate destiny of all things is to return to that center, then who wouldn't want to be there? A never-ending orgy of everything that is...I can think of some pretty cool shit, but nothing comparable to that.
Whew...that took alot longer than I hoped. Thanx for tolerating me for that long, if you really did and aren't just skipping to the end to leave some stupid comment about how you really read all that.
 I hope you find something to believe that makes you feel good about believing in something.

Thursday, September 15, 2005

Spiritual Healing pt.1 (Straight To Hell)

* this is a second attempt at a blog I wrote yesterday that got eaten by Myspace...I find it very frustrating that i'm writing this for a second time, cause there's no way I'm about to duplicate what I had written and, frankly, I was pretty impressed that it came out making sense the first time...*

If I have anything to do with it, I won't be a human being next time. I mean, since I am a human now, I'm sure I'll always have some elements of humanity in the history of my participation in the DNA chain, but, dammit, I can try. I don't hate the human race. I know I come across that way alot, but I really just think its funny to be misanthropic and, on a much cheaper note, it's a style that comes naturally for me(hence, DoomsdayDevice: as in writing in my point of view...don't tell anyone. it'll be our secret).

I was raised Southern Baptist and really can think of no point in my childhood that would've been better off without the presence of First Baptist Church of Eunice. I made alot of friends. I took alot of trips...a big chunk of my childhood memories take place in or among church. I'm sure it must have had a significant impact on the development of my spiritual being. I still screwed up here and there. I was arrested for grand larceny when I was 12. I got suspended from school here and there, but, somehow, most people still considered me a pretty good kid. 
Somewhere around 17 or 18 is when my questions started to bother the pastor and my youth group leader. All through the years, I was the goofy nerd who asked the questions like: "Why are there dinosaur skeletons then?" and "How did Cain meet his wife after being kicked out of Eden for killing Able if they were the first 4 (Adam & Eve's sons) people ever?" ...crap like that. These were usually conveniently summed up by: "If there were proof of God, then you wouldn't have to have faith and EVERYBODY would be saved." That shut me up usually, but I really thought it would be cooler if EVERYBODY was saved.

Throughout my teenage years, the discovery and immediate obssession of heavy metal, punk rock, and my ever-growing fixation on horror & sci/fi wasn't all that compatible with youth group activities, I discovered after losing tapes and not being able to provide movies for youth movie nights anymore. I was scared of the devil because of what I had been taught, but in a much more horrific way, by movies like Evilspeak & The Omen and by Slayer, Death & a few other bands' depictions of what kinda bullshit goes on in hell.
FUCK THAT SHIT!! The old-school "Satan Worshippers" (not the hippie pagan ones. I think they shoulda named it something else cause it's dissapointing to worship the devil if there's no devil) always intrigued me because I can't imagine who would wanna burn in hell on purpose, you know? You gotta skip to the end of the book sometimes to see how your team turns out. Plus, it was really bouffant. It was a rebellion against Christianity for all these kids, yet had twice as many rules, was extremely organized (cause you gotta do those scary chants over EVERYTHING you do), and you had to dress really gay and look like a dead person. I'm all about being ugly on purpose just to bum people out or whatever, but why would I want to look like a jerkoff and be ridiculed...ON PURPOSE?

what was i talking about? 
oh yeah...

So, long story twice as long, the gathering of all these elements caused something of a spiritual perfect storm...especially when I was still attending church and going to Sunday school and I could feel them giving up on me. I just felt like I wasn't as invited as I used to be. They weren't quite as enthusiastic to discuss my latest paradoxes anymore. There were questions about my feelings on Satan and silly stuff like that. I didn't mind at first. I mean, it's Eunice, Louisiana. I didn't have to go that far outta my way to recieve that kinda attention. 
Until my senior year in high school, I had never been popular in that high school sense of the word, but I had a few girlfriends and some buddies that I did pretty normal teenager shit with. I didn't hide out in the parking lot with Eunice's 2 stoners (I didn't even try weed till I was 19), and I still had yet to cut school to act the fool. The first half of the year was ok. I made out alot with this really sexy girl and that was neat. Me and a couple guys I was in band with got pretty drunk before a game and really sucked at half time that night (my first punk rock performance). Me and some friends spent alot of time making movies about rabid pirhana and psycho circus clowns. Even my mom thought they were hilarious (mom kicks ass).

Then, one day i walked into school and this fucking dude i went to church with (Chad something...a preacher's kid) had told everybody that i was a DEVIL WORSHIPPER. His research on this subject stemmed from the argument we'd had the day before in which I praised The Doors as being a "cool ass" movie and he refuted by declaring Jim Morrison a Satan Worshipper (you have to sing those 2 words in a high-pitched King Diamond voice). It spread through Eunice in a Goddamn day. My best friend's dad didn't want me to hang out anymore and he even got in trouble a few times after that because someone would tell that we hung out. Girls sure as fuck didn't want to come around me...not out of fear, I think, but mostly cause it was such an unfashionable lifestyle I supposedly led. I skipped prom, DID go on the senior trip, which was fun mostly, hugged everybody that would touch me and ducked outta town. I still hung out with my couple close friends, but for the most part, I tried to stay off the map in that town. I still considered myself Christian at that time, but mostly out of habit, I think. I wasn't in church at all, and I chose not to dwell on questions of spirituality, religion, eternity and shit like that for the next 6 or 7 years. Rock-n-roll is far too fun to get mixed up with all that crap anyway, and I knew there was no chance of NOT ROCKING.
 At some point, I was hanging off of a cliff overlooking the fiery abyss, clutching the hand of the lord for all its worth. The fires yanked at my ankles like crabs dragging each other back down into the net as I stared desperately into the eyes of God, hoping for salvation...and finding only truth. I slowly reached up with my other dangling hand, extended my middle finger, and let go. He caught me, though, by the wrist and smiled as if to say: "I'M the one who decides when to give up, muthafucka", and let me fall...

Saturday, September 3, 2005

Right Next To Where You Are Standing

*There's a lot of aid surging toward those who've been affected. Millions of gallons of water. Millions of tons of food. We're making progress about pulling people out of the Superdome," the president said.*

I just read this. It's 3:45 in the morning, Saturday, the 3rd.
Why am I just a little bit scared of you people? Why does chris go on about Godzilla and zombies and black holes and meteors and all that other stupid shit? The fucking world hates itself and whips its own ass for it. At what point did the Earth start a class war?
Have you started to generalize yet? Fucking New Orleans trash, fucking crimerate, fucking guns, fucking send 'em somewhere else, why here? Everybody use the buddy system, New Orleans is in the house...and they're crazy, and they can't drive, and they'll shoot you just as soon as tell you hi.
I've been warned by you bastards, I've listened to you slimy little phantoms trying to say it in as couth a manner as possible, I paid attention to the rumors that i'm not supposed to pass, but somehow get to hear.
Boring fucking Jerry Springer generation of degenerate conservative assholes. If you one day woke to find that there was practically no one plotting against your freedom or waiting around the corner to mug you one way or the other, you'd lose all will to live. 
A WHOLE-MUTHAFUCKIN-LOT-OF-PEOPLE just got their entire reality flipped on its ass and then promptly shoved up theirs....RIGHT NEXT TO WHERE YOU ARE STANDING.

Now the people organizing the biggest benefits seem to be the people hoping the money raised will "send 'em somewhere else". It's like when a relative is dying in the hospital and the entire family is staying in shifts and somehow it turns into a guilt-war over who spent the most time at their post. From Tallahassee to Houston to Atlanta to All-Over-The-Fuckin-Place, the past 5 days or so have been trying... from the people still trapped in the thick of this to the ones very least affected, it's a strange, scary, depressing time. My feelings on the events of the past week contradict themselves and also reconfirm suspicions that have been with me all along. You guys just may be a little a whole.
No. Nothing's ever gonna be the same matter how small the matter how's gonna be there. Not everybody looks like you and not everybody thinks like you and not everybody likes what you like and yes, every last one of them is scared shitless of you as well...for the same reason.
You know like when you're at a concert or some big, giant fucking event that you've been rambling on obnoxiously to your co-workers about, even AFTER they told you they could give a shit and please stop talking about it??? Like RADIOHEAD or something (who isn't necessarily my favorite band, but maybe you're the artsy type) is playing in a couple minutes and you're running around the arena checking out chicks/dudes/shirts/stickers/drugs/beer/whatever...big gay grins and all that...and you're bumping into people and everybody's spilling on each other the whole time and putting out cigarettes on each other by accident and stepping on feet and knocking people down...and everybody's still turn to that dude who's girlfriend you accidentally punched in the mouth out of sheer excitement from that little singer dude saying "fuck" where he used to say something else, and you smile apolagetically and you say, "My bad, dog." and you MEAN IT.
You know that shit like that happens, it WAS your fault and he smiles back and says, "It's cool, man" and laughs cause she's like singing all loud and crying with a big hole where her tooth used to be. Nobody cares. You rub up against each other getting where you gotta go, but everybody seems to understand that nobody's doing it to be an asshole...

Maybe there ain't no ride at the end of this line and maybe this crowd ain't here for no rock-n-roll show, but, Goddammit, who the fuck are you to be the SLIGHTEST bit impatient with this mess if you ain't in a boat right now, fishin people off of roofs?

It's that easy, man. Just let people do what they gotta do to get their feet goin one in front of the other again. Not gonna join Red Cross and go dangle from a helicopter, dodging machine gun fire and whatever other horrible evils your parents warned you about? 
THAT'S OK. I ain't either. "I gotta work tomorrow" and several other valid excuses.
 A certain amount of guilt does wash over me when I see pictures of the people trapped on top of overpasses and buildings and houses. It fucking sucks. I wish this would never have happened, while at the same time, I'm sure it will again...somewhere else, maybe worse...hell, it just did.
I mean, while you're at it, Pompeii got covered by a motherfucking volcano. As long as we inhabit this planet, we are its bowling alley. That's the tradeoff. I hate being reminded that there are powers that I have no control over that are capable of altering my reality. It's a human condition. We all deal with this in our own individual way. When one person loses control of the responsibility of tolerating this, they become sociopathic....when an entire region starts suffering outbreaks of this type of fear, anger, anxiety, prejudice toward ITSELF, it becomes...
What? I don't cancer? a class war?
You guys GOTTA fuck off and start evolving quick, or we're in so much Goddamn trouble...I ain't even bullshittin. 
Bad fucking know who you are.

peace (if it doesn't inconvenience you, of course),