Well...I don't get paid to blog. I am, however, getting paid while I blog. There's a long story about my current job situation, which has changed dramatically since my last post, and I'm not going to tell it. Deal with it. But the general idea is that I have done maybe, MAYBE a total of 30 minutes of work in the last two weeks...maybe that much. That won't last much longer, but its killer while it does.
I've read about new developments with M-theories, new Biblical interpretations, new astronomical discoveries, researched Supreme Court rulings on income tax(which, Tim, I'm sorry to say have held that income from labor is not a direct tax and have held such since the early 1800's) and brushed up on my algebra and statistics. And yes, I am that big of a nerd. I figured I might as well do something a little productive with all this free-time. While my coworkers are busy watching the stupidest, most mind-numbing videos and setting up their booty calls and other frivilous activities, I've used my free time to learn. I am such a better person than they are. I'm probably a better person than you are...mainly because I got paid to do it.
Monday, November 12, 2007
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Take Your Child To Work Day...or bore the hell out of some kids who used to think Daddy's job was cool
We arrive at my cubicle an hour before the festivities are set to begin. So while I try to get a bit of work done before its time to go and meet with the coworkers who also dragged their offspring to the office on Fri, I encourage my son to draw on the big dry-erase board that hangs in each of our cubes of capitalism. He decides he's going to draw the picture that I have as a desktop on my pc...which is my tattoo:
So he draws the outline circle on the board. Its not a bad circle, a little oblong on the bottom right side, but really not bad for a freehand circle of a 7-year old. He steps back, taps me on the shoulder and says, "Look at my circle."
"Not bad," I reply.
"No. Not bad at all. Its looks like a perfect circle, which is almost good enough for me."
My son has the most incredible ways of slapping me in the face with accidental philosophy.
The remainder of the day at work was filled with women coworkers cooing over how adorable my son is, how he looks just like me, how hyper he is, how funny he is...blah blah blah, stuff I'm used to hearing by now. I understand that all of that is going to be said and will continue to be said...but c'mon people, think just a little bit. Are you really that surprised? I mean, doesn't a child usually look like his parents - boys like fathers, girls like mothers? You know that we've heard all of that, and in those exact words that you're using right now. Be original. Mention something off the wall that you noticed: "Wow, your son makes the weirdest noises when he's annoyed" (it doesn't take much to annoy him...he is my son). And if you can't be original, at least be creative, "Damn, Carter...how much did the gov't pay you to volunteer for a cloning project?"
Its quite sad, now that I think about it...people are unimaginative, mindless drones. I think we should come up with a scientific way to classify the level of droneness of the masses. Maybe a scale, like 1-5 or a color code system...everyone level GREEN or darker are so stripped of cognitive uniqueness that they don't qualify as humans. They don't deserve equal wages, equal freedom...fuck it...lets just kill 'em.
Wait...no...not a color code system...I'm color blind.
So he draws the outline circle on the board. Its not a bad circle, a little oblong on the bottom right side, but really not bad for a freehand circle of a 7-year old. He steps back, taps me on the shoulder and says, "Look at my circle."
"Not bad," I reply.
"No. Not bad at all. Its looks like a perfect circle, which is almost good enough for me."
My son has the most incredible ways of slapping me in the face with accidental philosophy.
The remainder of the day at work was filled with women coworkers cooing over how adorable my son is, how he looks just like me, how hyper he is, how funny he is...blah blah blah, stuff I'm used to hearing by now. I understand that all of that is going to be said and will continue to be said...but c'mon people, think just a little bit. Are you really that surprised? I mean, doesn't a child usually look like his parents - boys like fathers, girls like mothers? You know that we've heard all of that, and in those exact words that you're using right now. Be original. Mention something off the wall that you noticed: "Wow, your son makes the weirdest noises when he's annoyed" (it doesn't take much to annoy him...he is my son). And if you can't be original, at least be creative, "Damn, Carter...how much did the gov't pay you to volunteer for a cloning project?"
Its quite sad, now that I think about it...people are unimaginative, mindless drones. I think we should come up with a scientific way to classify the level of droneness of the masses. Maybe a scale, like 1-5 or a color code system...everyone level GREEN or darker are so stripped of cognitive uniqueness that they don't qualify as humans. They don't deserve equal wages, equal freedom...fuck it...lets just kill 'em.
Wait...no...not a color code system...I'm color blind.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Its not that damn funny, Cowboy!
I don't have anything specific to write about. Work is work...its not exciting at all. They've finally opened a few positions up for my friends to get hired on permanant...but those are their stories, not mine. Although, in the midst of all this, there is the possibility for a promotion for myself...but whatever. My boss has been on my ass like a pair of whitey-tighties, so the prospects are not looking particularly bright. Fucking corporate assholes.
I just got done reading a book called "The End of Faith" by an author whose name I can't recall...don't worry Mr. Storyteller, I don't even remember the name of the dude who wrote that book in your hotel nightstand. But its a fan-fucking-tastic book. I'm not gonna give you a full synopsis of the book...but I think this paraphrased excerpt should give you a good idea: The state of the world is kinda like if instead of arguing over which religion's God(s) was the creator of the universe and the author of the moral law of humanity, we were arguing over Star Wars...which is better, Jedi or Sith? Blaster or Lightsaber? Empire or Rebellion? Padme or Leah? Both scenarios are retarded. In fact...I did a poor job of paraphrasing. That quote is in the beginning of the book and its been a month at least since I read that part. I'll come back and edit it later. Deal with it.
Basically it proports that we need to get rid of the irrationality that allows us to trust in such illogical and unfounded beliefs that are the foundation of religion, at which are the heart of divisiveness and hatred and intolerance. We will not survive as a species unless we do otherwise. I happen to agree. Once you can suspend logic to accept one belief, its not hard to expand that. We have always done this...from the beginning of recorded history there is proof among proof among proof of this. It is only now dangerous to our survival because of the emmense power of our weapons and the proliferation of those weapons among the ignorant and zealous among us.
The problems of this country are the problems of the world. The problems in our cities are the problems of this country. The problems of our homes are the problems of our cities. The problems of our lives is the problems of our homes. The problem of our minds, our hearts, our souls are the problems of our lives. There is no greater cause than that of the intelligent, rational search for the truth. Until we individually and collectively charge ourselves with that aim, we will continue to flounder in superstition, stand divided along imaginary lines, and hate the person standing on the other side of that line.
This is the shit I do at work sometimes...instead of work. I regurgitate the thoughts of great people whose names have long been forgotten, erased, and suplanted by the names of the mediocre who take the credit. It seems more rewarding than making sure that all of the Pizza Huts in a give city are arranged correctly in the fucking yellow pages.
I just got done reading a book called "The End of Faith" by an author whose name I can't recall...don't worry Mr. Storyteller, I don't even remember the name of the dude who wrote that book in your hotel nightstand. But its a fan-fucking-tastic book. I'm not gonna give you a full synopsis of the book...but I think this paraphrased excerpt should give you a good idea: The state of the world is kinda like if instead of arguing over which religion's God(s) was the creator of the universe and the author of the moral law of humanity, we were arguing over Star Wars...which is better, Jedi or Sith? Blaster or Lightsaber? Empire or Rebellion? Padme or Leah? Both scenarios are retarded. In fact...I did a poor job of paraphrasing. That quote is in the beginning of the book and its been a month at least since I read that part. I'll come back and edit it later. Deal with it.
Basically it proports that we need to get rid of the irrationality that allows us to trust in such illogical and unfounded beliefs that are the foundation of religion, at which are the heart of divisiveness and hatred and intolerance. We will not survive as a species unless we do otherwise. I happen to agree. Once you can suspend logic to accept one belief, its not hard to expand that. We have always done this...from the beginning of recorded history there is proof among proof among proof of this. It is only now dangerous to our survival because of the emmense power of our weapons and the proliferation of those weapons among the ignorant and zealous among us.
The problems of this country are the problems of the world. The problems in our cities are the problems of this country. The problems of our homes are the problems of our cities. The problems of our lives is the problems of our homes. The problem of our minds, our hearts, our souls are the problems of our lives. There is no greater cause than that of the intelligent, rational search for the truth. Until we individually and collectively charge ourselves with that aim, we will continue to flounder in superstition, stand divided along imaginary lines, and hate the person standing on the other side of that line.
This is the shit I do at work sometimes...instead of work. I regurgitate the thoughts of great people whose names have long been forgotten, erased, and suplanted by the names of the mediocre who take the credit. It seems more rewarding than making sure that all of the Pizza Huts in a give city are arranged correctly in the fucking yellow pages.
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Don't Fucking Touch Me!!!!
So I read about a VA middle school that has a "No Touching" policy. Seriously. Kids are not allowed to touch each other. Then I read about some CA elementary school that tried to do the same thing. This is sheer lunacy.
I remember when I was in high school...11 effing years ago...and we had two retarded rules (more I'm sure, but these are the two that affected me): everyone had to tuck their shirt in and guys always had to be clean shaven. The logic? Tucked in shirts prevented students from carrying weapons under their baggy, untucked shirts. This from a tiny redneck school that I can't remember ever hearing about anyone ever being threatened by a weapon at school...before or after I attended. But...things tended to change all over the country in response to the Columbine shooting...so. Now facial hair was, well...I never understood the logic behind that rule.
But this no touching thing is just absolutely mind boggling. I saw some video clip on CNN.com and the woman who was the chairperson of the parent/teacher association said something along these lines: Two boys high-five in the hall, then their buddies want to be involved, and now you have a traffic jam, elbows flying and legs swinging and other kids can get hit or tripped and then it turns into absolute bedlam and mayhem and anarchy breaks out, kids start stripping their clothes running up and down the halls and having mass orgies in the principal's office while he cowers in his private bathroom praying for the rapture so to end this obviously satanic display of debauchery and disregard for the God-ordained American civility.
Ok...so I made up all the shit starting at "absolute bedlam"...but before that is pretty effing close to being a quote.
How retarded does our general population have to be before we revolt against the norm? Our world is filled with famine and war and inhumanity of unfathomable proportions...and we're too busy banning high-fives, huggs, holding hands, and hand-shakes in school to teach our children about reality, about history, about true civility. No wonder the world hates Americans...laughs at our policies...despises our self-indulgence...and disregards us as ignorant automatons. No wonder we elected and then re-elected Bush and put up with the lunacy that passes for representative government.
Okay...I'm gonna stop now because if I don't...this will never end. The state of our society and our culture is too fucked up to just summarize...other than this: We need a complete social shift and spiritual awakening...if humanity is going to survive, going to evolve, we have to change it ourselves and quit expecting someone else to start it.
"Shut the hell up, Carter...you're an idiot." Ok
I remember when I was in high school...11 effing years ago...and we had two retarded rules (more I'm sure, but these are the two that affected me): everyone had to tuck their shirt in and guys always had to be clean shaven. The logic? Tucked in shirts prevented students from carrying weapons under their baggy, untucked shirts. This from a tiny redneck school that I can't remember ever hearing about anyone ever being threatened by a weapon at school...before or after I attended. But...things tended to change all over the country in response to the Columbine shooting...so. Now facial hair was, well...I never understood the logic behind that rule.
But this no touching thing is just absolutely mind boggling. I saw some video clip on CNN.com and the woman who was the chairperson of the parent/teacher association said something along these lines: Two boys high-five in the hall, then their buddies want to be involved, and now you have a traffic jam, elbows flying and legs swinging and other kids can get hit or tripped and then it turns into absolute bedlam and mayhem and anarchy breaks out, kids start stripping their clothes running up and down the halls and having mass orgies in the principal's office while he cowers in his private bathroom praying for the rapture so to end this obviously satanic display of debauchery and disregard for the God-ordained American civility.
Ok...so I made up all the shit starting at "absolute bedlam"...but before that is pretty effing close to being a quote.
How retarded does our general population have to be before we revolt against the norm? Our world is filled with famine and war and inhumanity of unfathomable proportions...and we're too busy banning high-fives, huggs, holding hands, and hand-shakes in school to teach our children about reality, about history, about true civility. No wonder the world hates Americans...laughs at our policies...despises our self-indulgence...and disregards us as ignorant automatons. No wonder we elected and then re-elected Bush and put up with the lunacy that passes for representative government.
Okay...I'm gonna stop now because if I don't...this will never end. The state of our society and our culture is too fucked up to just summarize...other than this: We need a complete social shift and spiritual awakening...if humanity is going to survive, going to evolve, we have to change it ourselves and quit expecting someone else to start it.
"Shut the hell up, Carter...you're an idiot." Ok
Monday, June 18, 2007
What happens in a month
Some people find new work...but not me. We are on a hiring freeze and so I cannot get promoted because they would not be able to replace me. That sucks. And I can't find a new job because I'm damned determined to stay here long enough to get vested...I mean...c'mon...how stupid would it be to give up all that free money? So I will stick it out…unless some incredible opportunity that pays a hell of a lot more comes along in the meantime.
The improbable turns to impossible and Love once again proves that its not enough to make it otherwise.
Revenge sex is not quite as exciting and rewarding as the stories proport…but it was still mighty fun.
Kayaking down the river is very exciting, as is getting hit on by the sexy biker-bar owner in Podunkville.
I may not be rich, but I've learned that life is so much more relaxed and enjoyable when you're in the black. Now if I can just stay focused enough to make sure that no matter what twists come my way, I can remain in the black. Finances are much easier when I just see them as math and organizational problems instead of, well…money.
I still kick-ass at pool.
I have earned my calluses back. I didn't realize how soft my fingertips had gotten until I decided to enter this guitar competition and by consequence spend 2 hours a night practicing. I don't want to win…I just want to play in front of a crowd again.
The improbable turns to impossible and Love once again proves that its not enough to make it otherwise.
Revenge sex is not quite as exciting and rewarding as the stories proport…but it was still mighty fun.
Kayaking down the river is very exciting, as is getting hit on by the sexy biker-bar owner in Podunkville.
I may not be rich, but I've learned that life is so much more relaxed and enjoyable when you're in the black. Now if I can just stay focused enough to make sure that no matter what twists come my way, I can remain in the black. Finances are much easier when I just see them as math and organizational problems instead of, well…money.
I still kick-ass at pool.
I have earned my calluses back. I didn't realize how soft my fingertips had gotten until I decided to enter this guitar competition and by consequence spend 2 hours a night practicing. I don't want to win…I just want to play in front of a crowd again.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Karaoke and The Pursuit of Happiness
So my b-day is coming up. Yee-mutha-effin-haw! Don't ask me how old I'll be or I will stick you in a big microwave and cook you 10 seconds at a time until you're all dried up like Janet Reno's clam. Eww...I just grossed myself out.
At my party, we're going to be enjoying the fun times provided by Karaoke Revolution. I mean, we all know how disturbing drunken karaoke is at the bar. This will be so much better...we're all friends and even the shitty singers will be much enjoyed...because I'm sure their drunken cat-screams will be drowned out by laughter. Wow...I can't wait!!!
Courtesy of Eddie Izzard: "You pursue happiness...C'mon you fucking happiness...bang...I found me some happiness. I'm gonna shoot it now...bang...You fucking happiness...bang...you come with me with those big fucking eyes...bang..."
Hmmm...we are doomed.
At my party, we're going to be enjoying the fun times provided by Karaoke Revolution. I mean, we all know how disturbing drunken karaoke is at the bar. This will be so much better...we're all friends and even the shitty singers will be much enjoyed...because I'm sure their drunken cat-screams will be drowned out by laughter. Wow...I can't wait!!!
Courtesy of Eddie Izzard: "You pursue happiness...C'mon you fucking happiness...bang...I found me some happiness. I'm gonna shoot it now...bang...You fucking happiness...bang...you come with me with those big fucking eyes...bang..."
Hmmm...we are doomed.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Stained Teeth
Used up, chewed up, spit out, and stomped out.
Laid under newspaper to hide from sight and from the cold.
I stare at the headlines I'm buried under tonight
Not reading the words 'cuz I know that they only spell, "Fuck you too!"
I can't see the red of the blood on your hands
I can't see the blue of my breath that you choked out
I can't see the light of the days that you've stolen
I can't see the stain of your teeth from the meal that you made of my heart.
Okay...I'm done venting for now. Its amazingly therapeutic. Not very good for songwriting...these short outbursts of emotion. Perhaps I can go back one day and start combining these little snipits of verse and make one gut-wrenching, heartbreaking, head-splitting, soul-touching song that can be ultimate reference point for pain. Then everything else that doesn't hurt that much, I can dismiss...like comparing a paper-cut to the guillotine.
So I'm done being all dark and dismal...or as some say, "dramatic"...
Fun to follow later.
Laid under newspaper to hide from sight and from the cold.
I stare at the headlines I'm buried under tonight
Not reading the words 'cuz I know that they only spell, "Fuck you too!"
I can't see the red of the blood on your hands
I can't see the blue of my breath that you choked out
I can't see the light of the days that you've stolen
I can't see the stain of your teeth from the meal that you made of my heart.
Okay...I'm done venting for now. Its amazingly therapeutic. Not very good for songwriting...these short outbursts of emotion. Perhaps I can go back one day and start combining these little snipits of verse and make one gut-wrenching, heartbreaking, head-splitting, soul-touching song that can be ultimate reference point for pain. Then everything else that doesn't hurt that much, I can dismiss...like comparing a paper-cut to the guillotine.
So I'm done being all dark and dismal...or as some say, "dramatic"...
Fun to follow later.
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