It wasn’t until 12, 13 years into this whole goddamn ordeal that I began to understand what happened before I came along. I’m trying to catch up on 13.7 billion years of history, while looking ahead into the future that I cannot see, and trying to keep everything together in the meantime. This system doesn’t work. The human being, on its own, is a weak and worthless lump of flesh. We differ from other animals by our complex communication system, language, and by our ability to reason. Reason, however, seems to be used only when demanded. Not when necessary, not when available, but when required. Humans are strong in packs, that we know. What is a civilization but a pack of humans pitting themselves against another pack of humans? But the other humans, they’re from the other side of the tracks, so to speak. They aren’t the same as us—even though we, in the group, are all different—they are far worse than beasts and a danger to us. Let’s get rid of them!

Kids, from my experience with them, seem to naturally join up with one another. They play with each other, and that’s what cooperation is, playing. Kids pass a soccer ball to each other, adults have to forward emails to each other. Same interaction, but kids laugh more and adults worry more. No one taught us how to deal with life when we were growing up. We heard about the real world, sure, but we were always away from it as if it were the deep-end of the pool in the game of life. Yet, here I am now, treading water just to stay afloat while I should be swimming, or better yet, sailing. How do you teach people to think for themselves, and not just problem solving, but thinking for themselves with vigor in their thought. There is a looming sense of lethargy above us all. Why do we need to work? Someone else will do it if I don’t. Why should I do anything at all? I am quite replaceable. I know I am. Now, how do I become unique?

Unique? Wait a minute… that means different! You’ve worked so hard to fit in with all the rest, why do you want to stand out now? Is it because The Great Masses of the People are not as ambitious as you are? Or is it because they were not clever enough to succeed? Or did they never get that luck? People are afraid of things that are unusual or different. Anything that goes against the norm, whatever rubs them the wrong way. To me, society seems like a giant made of gears, and all of us do our one thing just like all the others in order to keep this machine moving. That’s a role, a petty part, told by a fool, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing (thanks Shakespeare).

When I fit in, I want to kill myself. When I stand out, I realize how lonely life can be, and it kills me. Why is it so wrong to simply say, “Thank you, but I’m not interested,” and hang yourself just as we hang up on telemarketers? The world is not run optimally, and why is that? Can’t humans agree that efficiency is a good thing? We all love the remote control, that’s made things more efficient, now why can’t we cooperate with each other? People are dishonest, people are shallow, people are cruel, people are selfish, people are human-all-too-human. They are the problem, but they are also the solution. I need to open my eyes, find that vision of tomorrow, and lead others to it: prosperity!

Prosperity… Anitra had that word tattooed on her back in Japanese, prosperity. I wonder about her, I wonder about her a lot these days. Four years ago is now a blink of the eye, and I have lost my goals from that era. I loved her, I really did. I think I could have married her and been happy, but that’s all speculation now. She’s moved on, and I’ve grudged on, and neither one of us is the same from that time. But those five months, those great five months in 2004… nothing has been as bright since. You know why you failed, you ran out of steam. You ran out of steam because you never told her what you were thinking about. She wanted to know what you were thinking about, how honest can a person be? We all want to know what others are thinking about. I’m still thinking about her, and wondering what she’s thinking about. Bitter irony, forevermore. I chose the kitchen over her, and soon enough, I would leave the kitchen, too.

My time at Collin College is overdone. I have my associate’s, and I’m embarrassed when I tell a person that’s all I have. If I am smart, why can’t I comply with the system? I fucking hate the system. Everything seems so simple in theory, but in practice everything seems so drudgery. My ambition has been ambiguous for so long that I don’t even remember what it once was. I wanted to be the greatest chef in the world. I wanted to cook food that no one ever tasted before; I wanted people from far and wide to come eat at my restaurant. But I’d rather be rich. Where does an entrepreneur go for fame? The pack of wolves will eat everything before you get there. “Nothing’s impossible, you just have to find it from within you,” I remember writing that down in fifth grade. I wanted to fly and leave the school, I didn’t like the other kids my age. I never have liked people my age, I realize. I like the older generations for their wisdom, and I like the younger generations because they are innocently ignorant. Kids have so much potential, but they’re so difficult to communicate with.

I don’t cook as much as I used to, and whenever I do cook, I notice that my skills have rusted from neglect.  All my knives are dull; they haven’t been sharpened in years now.  Sharpening my knives was like a ritual at one time, trying to achieve the sharpness of a katana on my chef’s knife.  My knives were my tools, and I took care of them for they took care of me (and it annoyed the hell out of me to see other cooks mistreat them).

My notes about cooking in general (meat cookery, vegetables, etc.) are suprisingly insightful when I go back and read them.  I looked at food through the microscope and asked what do I need to do to the basic food molecules–water, fats, carbs, and protienes–in order to achieve the dish I want.  There is a method to the madness, I know there is.  For as Harold McGee explains, “Foods, like everything on earth, are mixtures of idfferent chemicals, and the qualities we aim to influence in the kitchen–taste, armoa, texture, color, nutritiousness–are all manifestations of chemical properties,” (On Food and Cooking, but I don’t know the page number).

I know how to cook, but I never figured out the process behind it all.  Maybe I should take the Escoffier path and write a cookbook that is technique-based and not quantity-based.  Jean-Georges Vongeritchen told me to season with my senses, and that’s the best advice I can dispense to others when it comes to cooking.  Alas, alas, alas… memory lane certainly has its shares of potholes.

Roger Ebert Porn

Our jobs influence our thoughts and our perceptions.  If you’ve ever been a waiter, you have a much different point of view of the restaurant industry than the generic customer who is clueless about what goes on.  But, staying with this idea, how about jobs influence our thoughts and our perception of the world… what kind of porn is Roger Ebert watching?  Because you know he’s going to be critical about every movie he watches!  All film critics for that matter, it has to be infuriating for these people to watch porn!  They’re trying to beat it off and all they can think about is, “The only thing more fake than her tits are her orgasms!”  But, we all have our standards when it comes to these things.  That’s why all the porn I watch has to have that Roger Ebert “Two Thumbs Up My Own Ass” seal of approval!

The relationship between porn and religion

The fact that there are people who are against pornography and consider it to be the source of all the world’s problems and evil baffles the hell out of me.  What’s particularly odd about this group of people is that they are typically the devoutly, in-your-face Christian types who find their inspiration for morality in the Old Testament.  But when you think about it, religion and pornography both operate under the same function.  Because in either one of them, the more hardcore you get, the more you freak people .  In terms of which is more obscene, I’m going to say an eight-pound baby coming out of a vagina is a lot worse than a man’s fist.

George W. Bush

Do you remember when George W Bush took office?  A lot of people were stuck on the fact that he used cocaine earlier in his life.  People would say, “If you can do coke and still become President of the United States, then that whole thing about drugs is fucked up.”  Now that we’re near the end of his presidency, I think we can all look back and say, STAY AWAY FROM DRUGS!  We let a former cokehead run the country, and look how fucked up it is!  George W. Bush is my anti-drug!

Bush is the most unpopular president we’ve had.  He is also the healthiest president we’ve had.  Coincidence?  Remember, America is the fattest nation on face of the earth, and our Dear Leader is so out of touch with American mainstream that he’s in the top 99 percentile for health!  This guy is clueless about what Americans want: extra ranch dressing!  He lives on a ranch and we live off of ranch, the guy has it all wrong…

A lot of people have come to the conclusion that George W is like a clown who was too dumb to bring his costume to work, but he chose the right vice-president.  Everyone laughs at Bush, but no one has the courage to laugh at Cheney.  Dick Cheney is the perfect storm of evil: he’s as ruthless as Darth Vader, rich as Mr. Burns, and more suspicious than Newman from Seinfeld.

My Tax Plan

I think we need to restructure the IRS into a prostitution ring.  Instead of tax collectors, we should have federal prostitutes.  Instead of the government screwing us over with income tax and payroll tax, I say we should have the right to fuck the government if they really want our money.  That’s a tax program I can get behind, and on top of!  Basically, just use the same business plan as Hooters but have all proceeds go to balancing our budget.  If prostitution was legal, and all the proceeds went to the federal government, we’d be out of debt in two years, minimum.

From Chess To Feminism

I think the game of chess was the inspiration for feminism.  Think about it, who does all the work in chess?  The queen!  She’s moving all the way down the board, from one end to the next, going forward and backwards, left and right, diagonally and for what?  Some lazy king who only moves one place at a time?  He’s the one that needs to protect his ass!  But, oh, the mighty king will only move one place so the pawns don’t feel bad!  Meanwhile, while he’s fucking around doing nothing, the queen is out there doing everything herself!

Do you remember when she first announced her candidacy? The pool of potential candidates were all men. It was, in other words, a sausage fest. Traditionally, whenever a woman walks into a sausage fest (non-porn variety) she is showered with all the attention that the room has to offer. Same thing happened to Hillary! Once she said she was in, the entire nation was fixated on her like a lone blonde in a bar. Everyone wanted to know who she was, where she’s from, what she did… and acted as if they were interested in her response. “What kind of job do you have? You’re a United States Senator?! From New York? Wow! That must be really interesting!”

After a woman establishes her presence, her monopoly of having all the attention in the world is always endangered whenever a more interesting person (or puppy) is in proximity to a woman. Obama was certainly the most interesting male candidate on the Democrat’s side, and he was able to win the nomination because he handled the attention better than Hilary. Once Hilary noticed that she was losing her grip, and people were becoming less interested in her, she did what women usually do in this situation. She began to lie!

“I was under sniper fire when I landed in [who gives a damn].” Too bad Hillary wasn’t sexy enough for people to make an ejaculation reference to her claims of being shot at. Shit, even her husband outsourced that job. But that statement began a great unraveling for her, methinks. She was the First Lady at the time, of course whatever she does is going to be documented and she had the gall to go against her own record. Why did she do this? To make herself look cooler than she really is! Herein lies the key difference between Bill and Hillary: when Bill lied, he became more popular because of it.

As the campaign slowly, slowly, slowly, slowly continued, her comments became more and more outrageous. But, like most women, she would never admit that she was wrong. No, no! It’s someone else’s fault! Bush, Obama, McCain’t-do-shit, China, or whoever else she could think of (besides herself, for once). More than a month now, she’s been slowly drifting further out to into the sea of the past, and yelling louder and louder. Unfortunately for her, we stopped listening to her. The country, like all men, became disinterested in her when we realized that she doesn’t go to third base. Men’s rule of thumb: no T&A, no Q&A.

Ultimately, this post would wrap itself up into some kind of meaningful social commentary, but I’m talking about politics, the social institution without meaning. The problem with democracy is simple, the people are given too much input in the process. Our nation couldn’t figure out how to program a VCR, and we’re expected to elect the most powerful person in the world? If you give a teenager the keys to a car, don’t be surprised when they wreck it! When the bulk of the voting population has the intelligence of plankton, this is what you get: debates about whether or not America is ready for a black president or a woman president, rather than debates that require critical thinking and reasoning. Yet, in the midst of all this tragedy… this is what we, as a country, accept for our leaders. I have odd standards, I know, but I firmly believe that kissing a baby, visiting the local citizenry and “admiring” their blue-collar jobs should not be a prerequisite for being the president of the fucking United States! If these people had any clue about what the people want they’d stop barging into our lives and leave us the hell alone. Most of us are just trying to score some drugs and you’re making it awfully difficult with your goddamn legislation.

All I know for sure about this election season is that until Election Day, I’ll be waking up thinking how lucky dead people are.

Also, I’ve been accepted at the University of Texas in Arlington.  That’s a relief.  This came the day after I saw my sister graduate with a MBA in strategic management, so is there a sign involved?  Whether or not there is, it doesn’t matter to me.

Thing to ponder: Have you noticed that you’re kind of in prison when you’re in your car?  You don’t have a lot of space to move around to begin with, but then you have to strap yourself into a seat and all the doors around you lock-down in unison KU-CHUNG.  “You ain’t goin’ no wheres!”  Soon enough, we all get a little irked and irritated by the confined space and we want to get out of the car, but we still have to get to our destination; hence, we speed.  We all speed, trying to get to wherever it is that we’re going because we’re already cramped and upset on this phase of the journey.  This is why people have road rage, methinks.  You’re in your own private jail, which YOU fund for, and you really want to get out and stretch but you can only do that once you get to where you’re going.  So, you drive as fast as you can, as recklessly as you can so long as it gets you to wherever it is that you’re going.  Once you’re there, you’ll take it upon yourself to complain about anyone who is late.

Dane Cook

To hell with Dane Cook, that untalented, myopic prick!

God I hate him! Specifically, I hate his popularity, that untalented, myopic prick!

Does anyone else see the problem when the largest portion of the public’s sense of humor is attracted to Dane-goddamn-Cook? Let me explain Dane Cook, for you…

He has a couple of good jokes, I must admit that first and foremost. My argument that Dane Cook is an untalented, myopic prick goes deeper than his comedic arts. It’s the fact that when he tells a joke, he will say it over and over again, using different words, but with the same semantics. “It’s like, have you ever been driving on the highway, and someone cuts you off, and you’re like, ‘Um, hellllooo?’ Because, it’s like, you’re crusin’, you know, pimpin’ out in the ol’ Danemobile, and some car out of nowhere—VROOM! AHH! Almost tore the Danemobile a new one—and you can only go, ‘Um, helllooo?’ That’s it, we all say, ‘Um, helllooo? Didn’t you see me driving? In the Danemobile? Oooookay… Just checkin’.” THAT’S NOT COMEDY! This guy’s material can warrant a law suit against him by the thesaurus publisher. He’s really just plagiarizing the thesaurus after a while, and when you’re hearing this crap over and over again, you’re like, “Um, helllooo?” He should write a book, “Ten Super Jokes and Seven Hundred SUPER Ways to Say Them (for Dummies)!”

That untalented, myopic prick!

Sport Rivalries

Fuck the Yankees. And while I’m at it, fuck the Red Socks! Fuck them and their rivalry, you stupid overgrown kids who are hell-bent on getting even with those kids from the other side of the tracks. They’re like those kids at summer camp who sneak across the lake to the camp next door, and put their canoes in trees; they’re also paid millions to do this in baseball.

I am so sick and irritated about sport rivalries. My god, you’re professional athletes trying to pull that “good role model” card and you throw a tantrum whenever you play against a certain team! You overpaid, myopic pricks! Endorsing vendettas, revenge, and constant mild-rage at a group who is practically identical to you other than their geolocation.

The Red Sox aren’t cursed, it’s the rest of the world that gets cursed from having to listen to your fanatical fans who buy into such superstition. It’s a good story, sure, but get over it! It’s abstract; it’s unimportantly informative over something that people love being a part of. I don’t get it. You play sports for a living, so focus on the game and leave the drama to the actors, not athletes.

Gasoline

I have a few words about gasoline. Everyone feels it, so everyone likes to bitch about it because, let’s face it, griping about gas prices has become the new “How’s the weather?” It’s a constant thorn in our existence and everyone has an opinion on it. Due to global warming, however, asking about the weather is bound to lead to a dispute of opinions. So, a new, safer constant had to emerge for our day-to-day bonding with others, thus we have a bittersweet relationship with high gas prices.
But even in all our gripes over gasoline, how many people still milk every gallon they can when they fill up? You filled up your tank, the pump says you have enough in your tank, but *CLICK CLICK CLICK* You’re paying more now you numbskulls! Don’t bitch and moan about how expensive gas is, and then try to round up your total! Ironically, it’s the people who are OCD about having even numbers at the gas pump are the same ones who never set their alarm clocks at quarter or half past, it’s always 7:28, not 7:15, or 7:30.

Cars & Driving

Want to make cars safer? Shit, this is easy: bumper cars. I want all cars to have one of those springy bumpers that go around those carts at the fair. Commuting would be so much more fun if you got there by bouncing and bumping your way to the exit. It would be like an enormous pinball game! Ah, pinball game, there’s the rub.

Here’s my idea: all cars come equipped with a heads-up-display that keeps track of your driving, but assigns you points in a Mario Kart-like fashion. If there’s some kind of high score we can try to beat, I’m willing to bet that people will be better drivers. You’re giving them the goal to be safe drivers (because there’s a shortage of them) but using a better system than the honor system. It pretty much works like this: while you are driving, you are assigned points for how well you drive. Staying inside the lines? Five points per second. Come to a complete stop at a stop sign? Plus fifty. There are also penalties! Pulled over? Lose all your points and GO DIRECTLY TO JAIL. Driving like a maniac on the highway? Lose all your points and GO DIRECTLY TO HELL.

Make driving a type of game rather than yet-another-drudgery, that’s what I’m saying. If people could throw banana peels and fire green turtle shells while they drove, I think there would be more focus from my fellow commuters.

The Five Drinking Holidays & Fashion Analysis

As I have come to see it, there are five major holiday that involve drinking during the year: Valentine’s, St. Patrick’s, Fourth of July, Halloween, and New Year’s Eve. Valentine’s is someone of a paradox, because those who do celebrate it drink less than those who aren’t able to celebrate it. Nevertheless, an important thing to note regarding these holidays is their dress code. You see a lot of red on Valentine’s, and you see a lot of green on St. Patrick’s. Thanks to alcohol, everyone’s standards are going down. That is to say, there’s a much greater chance of getting laid on these five holidays.

Drunk people are easier to get into bed. But on Valentine’s Day, when someone wears red, it’s like a stop light to anyone trying to make a move. “STOP! I’M WEARING RED! I’M TRYING TO STICK WITH MY NEW YEAR’S RESOLUTION!” The funny part is that in a month, that same person is wearing green, and green means go! “FUCK NEW YEARS RESOLUTIONS! LETS GO BACK TO YOUR PLACE!”

There’s a lot of red, white, and blue on July 4, which is to say, “Stop, baby! I already came, and if you keep doing that my balls are going to turn blue!”

So, when Halloween comes along, you’re so sick of colors you’ll fuck anything that dresses up, and I do mean ANYTHING. “It’s something different to undress, I guess you’ll do.”

During Thanksgiving and Christmas, however, loneliness sets in. So, during New Year’s, you wear something that is going to attract a mate, but do so in such a way that you won’t be spending Valentine’s Day alone. That’s going to be a resolution for you, have a meaningful relationship by Valentines, because if you don’t, you might as well be drunk. Being drunk is how all this got started, so, there it is: Alcohol is the Circle of Dating, the circumference for you math geeks.

Problem with Politics

The problem with politics is that the people who don’t vote are more informed than the ones who do. They know the system well enough to watch is disgust as public opinion is corralled in such overdrawn pomp and circumstance.

Social Norms: Paranoia or Denial

Have you realized that there are more paranoid people than normal people? If so, what the fuck are they paranoid about? That means everyone IS thinking about you! Furthermore, this means all the “normal” people are actually in DENIAL! So, rest assured that someone is just as fucked up as you, or you’re in denial about it. Now make the most of your day, because I’m keeping an eye out on you! And you. And you, and you… and you know what I mean.

But I had to do something with the site, maybe deleting everything was a step for the better. As to the extent it should stay like that, I don’t know. I’m not in the writing sort of mood these days