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Monday, August 28, 2006 :
Narcisis Unbound

As time has gone by, my attitude towards my blog has been ever-changing.

At first, it was just my own private way of journaling life. I had heard that writers should be in the habit of writing every day. Keeping a journal or a diary on a regular basis helps to keep your mind in the written word as much as possible, making it easier to let your mind flow when inspiration fit for public consumption comes about.

Blogging seemed to be the new "In" thing, when it comes to saying what you feel like saying, not caring who hears you or who doesn't. If you've been reading this for a while, you've probably figured out by now that I've practically made a hobby of jumping on bandwagons.

After a while, people started reading it. Friends, mostly. People who keep asking me "what are you doing these days?" I tell them to read my blog, rather than explain it all to them.

Then came MySpace. That opened a whole new can of worms.

And so, I've become increasingly curious/paranoid/prideful as to the number of people that read my blog. It's become a tad unhealthy.

To start with, I went ahead and put up a Google Ad. Not just because I'm fan of Google.com, or because I can make a little extra cash with it ($0.73 so far!), but because it also tells me how many hits I have to my page, without having to tout a "site counter" around. That proved to be about as infomative as I had expected. Roughly 10 to 15 hits a day. Not bad, considering I don't have that many friends.

Then, as time went by, the number of hits started to increase, varying between 50 to 110 hits a day. I couldn't, for the life of me, figure out who the hell was reading my shit.

The answer came from Saint Burton and Crazy Laura, in the form of a ClusrMap. With that, I know the geographic location of every visitor. The results were even more confusing. Egypt, Phillipines, Africa, Chile. Places that I didn't think had yet discovered Teh Internets, had found their way into my little ego trip.

Finally, there was StatCounter. More info than I could ask for about the visitors to my little domain. Location, length of stay, pages read, where they linked from, even their IP Address. More than enough to feed my narcisistic curiosit to it's limit.

The results, were as interesting as they were depressing.

Here comes the elaboration:

First were the expected results, regular visits from friends in Portland, Corvalis, Eugene, Chicago, and Los Angeles. Very regular visits from a friend in Houston, Texas (give it a rest, dude).

The came the regular visits from people in locations I was not familiar with. New Jersey, New York, British Columbia. I may be mistaken, but I'm pretty sure I don't know anyone in these towns. What's more is, according to the "linked from" stats of these people, they didn't link from anywhere. They typed my address in by hand to come directly here, all on their own. It's confusing to say the least.

And then of course, is a young woman in Northern California by the name of Yvonne Hernandez, who has been so kind as to link to me from her own blog. I don't recall ever meeting this chick, and as far as I can gather from breifly reading her posts, we don't have a whole lot in common (for instance, I beleive Julia Stiles to be a very fine actress, thank you very much).

The rest of my discoveries, were very disheartening. As it turns out, when one does a Google Image Search for the terms "big knockers," or "Lacey Chabert nude," my blog pops up within the first couple of pages. A painfully vast majority of my traffic comes from this.

Not like-minded mysanthropes or disenfranchised expatriots. No intillectual or literary curiousness involved in stumbling onto my digital soapbox. Just more tit-hounds. And while I have no problem with people looking for quick, cheap nudie fix on Google Image Search (as I have done so myself, many a long work night), I'm just upset that not a one of them ever sticks around long enough to actually read what the hell it is I have to say about big knockers or Lacey Chabert.

What really weirds my brain out is, the mass cleavage photos that draw these fellow perverts in aren't even mine. Each and every one of the images are sourced from other websites, and yet my page pops up in the search results several pages before the origional sources do.

So, here I am, nearly two years into my blog, and so far my claim to any possible fame has nothing to do with any sort of writing talent or clever insight. As usual, it's all about the boobs. I've said it before, and I'll say it again; Tits have power. Tits have carried every great fledgling form of media from infantcy to mass popularity. Photography, television, VHS, DVD, the Internet, The BBC, and many more owe their early survival to their more efective boob delivery. Now it's my turn.

It'll be a while before I can offer any origional breasts. So, random titties I find bouncing 'round the 'net will have to do for now.

Enjoy.

Boysies.

Tuesday, August 22, 2006 :
Hello China!

Well, now. This is a pleasant surprise. It seems that Google has recently solidified it's partnership with blogger.com and blogspot.com, and with that partnership comes benefits of Google's other partnerships. Specifically, blogspot.com is no longer blocked by the Chinese Censors.

So, now I no longer have to use a proxy server to read and edit my own blog, and I can now reach out directly to the people of China.

Hello, China. Thanks for joining us. You'll find coffee and cookies on the table in back. Please help yourself.

Now that I have China's attention, I'd like to get a few things off my chest.

First of all, congratulations on that whole communism thing you've been doing. I hear it's working out well for you. I'm sure we'll all start to see the positive results any day now. Don't let the complete and total collapse of almost every other communist nation in history get you down. Law of Averages alone is in your favor. The fact that it's a fantastic idea "in theory" has to account for something, right?

Now that that's out of the way, let's talk a bit about what brings us here in the first place. It's about censorship. For the longest time, the people of your country were completely unable to access my blog, unless they were somehow educated in the ways and wherefores of what I like to call "server juggling."

I imagine this may have something to do with the fact that blogspot.com is a community, and not an organization that can be told to shut the fuck up about Taiwan. Too many people saying too many different things, and no way to stick them all in Re-Education Camps. Not in logistically viable ways, that is. So, it's easier to just slap a big, steaming "Go Fuck Yourself" sticker on the whole domain. Were I in your position, I might have taken the same approach.

Now that we're talking again (and, really, I've missed this), I'd like to take a moment to point out to you how your approach might have been better directed.

You see, as national governments go, Communist China is relatively young. You haven't quite learned some of the more delicate tricks of the fascism trade. Sure, you've done a great job at pulling off some of the more rudimentary needs, such as seizing power under the guise of "revolution," completely demonizing all dissention, and always referring to your government as something relatively pro-freedom, such as "communism" or "democracy." But, the rest of it seems to have fallen flat. You've yet to make use of a proper New-History Integration system to replace all of the old, out-of-date history that you've already erased.

Take the United States, for example. We've elevated fascism to an art form. You see, right now you have your censors working tirelessly, day and night, combing through your country's media to find, investigate, and possibly eradicate any disagreeable material. This approach requires far too much time and resources. Allow me to offer us this very simple, step-by-step guide to dealing with dissention The American Way.

1. Ignore them. 95% of the time, they will eventually go away. If they do not, move on to step 2.

2. Strangle the economy. The harder it is for the average citizen to meet basic needs (such as food, clothing, and shelter) for him/herself and/or their family, the more likely they are to drop whatever foolish mission they've put themselves on in order to get a second job. If this does not work, move on to step 3.

3. Rape Social Security, Welfare, and Internal Revenue. If they are able to survive on less then two jobs, then they are probably taking advantage of some sort of not-for-profit program. First, lull them into a false sense of security by cutting taxes. This will cause a momentary euphoria, allowing you to quietly enact the rest of this step. Remove all funds for the Public Assistance programs and give them to the owners of you favorite businesses. If anyone asks why you are doing this, see step 1. By the time they have realized that the recent lack of tax revenue has caused their educational, medical, and local law enforcement institutions to become all but non-existent, they will be completely helpless to do anything about it, and have no choice but to get that second or third low-paying occupation. If this does not work, move on to step 4.

4. Divide and Conquer. In the event that steps 1-3 have not been effective, it is more than likely due to a united front, usually in the form of a "community program" or "non-profit organization." The best way to deal with this, is to a)write laws allowing leaders of non-profit organizations to acquire a "salary" out of acquired funds, thus assuring that the only "successful" organizations are run by those that are "business minded," or b) indirectly suggest that the non-business minded leaders of the organization are pedophiles. If this does not work, move on to step 5.

5. Embrace Christianity. Christianity comes pre-packaged with "blind faith" as well as aggressive recruiting tactics. There are many different forms of Christianity, and all of them are for sale at reasonable prices. Included in your Christianity Starter Kit is Localized History Re-writing (see: "Mexico"), a "divine right," a complete set of "blind eyes," and more than 200 different "wedge issues" (i.e. Homosexuality, Abortion, Evolution) sure to keep your population arbitrarily fighting amongst themselves for decades while you go on about doing whatever it is you wish to do.

While the sheer size of your population may make it a bit harder to pull this off then was done in America, keep in mind that it only took The U.S. 45 years to make this system self-propagating.

If you have any further questions, comments, or concerns; please feel free to consult your friends at The U.S. Government, British Parliament, or MicroSoft.

Thank you for listening.

TTFN

Thursday, August 17, 2006 :
On Princess

The funny thing is, she found me.

My relationship with my ex-wife came to it's tentative demise aproximately 4 years, 6 apartments, 2 cities, and 1 Pacific Ocean ago. And while I've had one or two "special" friends since then, it has taken me this long to finally have the balls to start a new "Capital R" Relationship.

My new special lady is Princess, a native of Zhongshan with an education in Business Law and a gorgeous rack. She's a bit younger than me, having just graduated from college, but she's already imparted on me some very aged wisdom in the art of living a meaningful life.

She found me on MySpace, of all places. She started with a very simple note that basically said "Hi. I live in Zhongshan too! How are you?"

Several more emails, and a couple of webcam chats later, I found myself agreeing to meet her in person. I was a little reserved, of course. I had verbally condemned online relationships on more than one occasion. And who hasn't heard the stories of the guy who meets his Online Love only to find that his new friend has gained a couple hundred pounds since the last photo he saw, and is also what some would call "pre-op."

But, the webcam chats proved that the pictures were up-to-date, and the accompanying conversations suggested that I had the chance to (at the very least) make a very good friend here. So, I swallowed my fears and met Princess in person.

This was a little under a week ago. Without going into too much detail (read: "fantastic sex"), I'll simply say that Princess and I are now officially an "item."

And so, for the first time in a long, long while I find myself living La Vida Monogomouso. It was never difficult for me. I'm proud to say that, while I do suffer from a bad case of the "wandering eye," I have never been unfaithful to any of my "significant others" with little to no effort.

I've met people, men and women both, who think it's perfectly normal and to be expected for a man to cheat on his wife or girlfriend. "Men have needs" is the excuse that's usually batted around. To this I call "bullshit." Men and women have identical needs: food, water, and Oxygen. Everything else is optional. Saying that you "need" anything beyond that list is just covering your own lack of integrity or self-worth. I, for one, am sick to death of being lumped into the same grouping as these spineless wastes of life just because I was born with a dick.

And this goes for women too. Women are just as selfish and spineless as men when it comes to your average relationship, which means they're doing just as much cheating and abusing as we are. Turn all the blind eyes and cast all the stereotypes you want, it won't change the facts.

Now, I'm not saying that anything other than a monogomous relatioship is damnation. I've had open relationships before, and they worked out rather well. I'm saying that when you know the boundries of your bond with another person, then willingly and knowingly go outside of those boundries, you are a walking peice of shit that deserves to suffer.

Betrayal is betrayal, no matter what kind of fancy slang you try to spin it with. And I think Dante and I are in agreement that the lowest, most tormented circle of Hell is reserved for the betrayers.

So, don't worry about me, dear friends. I know I've mentioned fantasies of harems and "buffet sex" before, but when I was 7 years old I also wanted a spaceship for Christmas. I learned a long time ago how to handle an un-realistic desire. I'll be fine.

In fact, these days I'm thinking I'll be more than fine. 'Cause now I've got my very own Princess.

Boysies.

Tuesday, August 15, 2006 :
I Am The Weakest Link

The single greatest bane on a civilzed society is the Chain Letter.

I haven't the faintest idea how this whole thing got started. It probably was some sort of college kid prank that picked up way too much steam until it was almost entirely controlled by the very simple minded, easily fooled jackasses that first fell for it all those years ago; much like Mormonism.

"Make a wish. Now send ten copies of this letter to all your friends and you're wish will come true in ten days. If you don't send ten copies to your friend, horrible misfortune will befall you in ten days."

How much of a dickhead do you have to be to fall for this?

More to the point, how much of a dickhead do you have to be to start something like this?

I did some research, and found that Chain Letters date back pretty far. Until recently, the oldest known chain letter was King Arthur's last known correspondence to Guenevere, urging her to send copies of the letter to her friends, or else he may never find the Holy Grail. There is no evidence that Guenevere ever honored his request.

However, recent bombings in the Middle East have uncovered a number of cuniform writings that suggest the local authorities had attempted to impose a tax on messenger donkeys.

These are hardly a surprise, considering the simpicity of the times. But what surprises me is the life of the Chain Letter even in modern times. Rumor has it, immediately after inventing the Internet, Al Gore sent the world's first e-mail to his wife, Tipper, asking her to forward the letter on to anyone else in her address book. It is a little known fact that, to this day, he blames her for his failure at the presidential bid.

Not only has the Chain Letter survived the digital age, it's grown to epic and legendary proportions. I still find myself fending off requests to "pass the word along" on all of my 5 email accounts, as well as in the MySpace bullitins of my so-called "friends."

I have been on the internet for a very long time. Lucky for me, I have an extended family of SuperGeeks (my mother is a professional Network Analyst), and I've had an online avatar of one kind or another dating back as far as Sierra Online. As a result, I have been victim to just about every known form of Chain Letter that these sick Mormons...er, Jokers can come up with.

Now I'm no 1337, but by my count this gives me just under two decades of experience in the world of online communication. Allow me to impart my wisdom upon all those who stumble onto my little diatribe here.

1. Your life will continue to suck, no matter how many people you forward the letter to. It will always suck at it's pre-determined capacity, whether you forward the letter or not.

2. No governing body has the desire, nor the capability, to impose any form of tax or postage charge on email. Even if they did, nobody would care.

3. The $150, $250, or $550, cookie recipie did not come from Tiffany's, Neiman Marcus, Ceasars Palace, or any other high-priced boutique or restorante in New York, Los Angeles, Las Vegas, London, Paris, or Venice. It came from a 1976 edition of Better Homes and Gardens.

4. Microsoft has no desire for your assistence in an "email tracking" system. It doesn't matter how many people you forward the note to, Bill Gates is not sending one damn red cent to you or any charity you have ever fucking heard of.

5. The same goes for kids with cancer. Send all the emails you want, they're still gonna die.

6. Emailed pettitions have absolutely no legal standing.

7. Me chosing not to forward your stupid little note to other people I know does not mean that I don't love you, or that I wish misfortune on you. It simply means that I have more self-respect than you.

Now, I know that by going this little tyrade, I'm opening myself up to quite a lot of suffering. Not in the form of scorn from those who beleive in the true power of the Chain Letter, as those people probably wouldn't even know how to email me if I put a big huge link with a picture of a mail box and bright red letters reading "Email Me" right in the middle of my page.

No, I'm more worried about that fact that I may be sent notice after notice of how I'm beating the holy shit out of a very dead horse. Everybody hates Chain Letters, everbody says so. But, if that were true, why the fuck do we keep getting them? From people that we trust enough to give our precious email addresses to, no less.

More than likely, I'll simply find myself being on the mailing list of every Chain Letter to pop onto the cyberdoorstep of everyone I know. Even people I've never gotten Chail Mail from before, and share my views on them, will now get their shits and giggles by sending me a copy of ever single peice of cybercrap that comes their way.

I know this will happen, because I have been dumb enough to become close friends with some of the world's most evil people.

Boysies.

Saturday, August 05, 2006 :
The Science of Science Fiction

I'm writing a Horror screenplay. It will be the script to FrogFaith's first feature length film. And, sweet jesus, what have I gotten myself into?

The thing that I've always hated about Horror and Sci-Fi films is the "What The Fuck" factor that seems to happen a lot in those kinds of movies. As in "What The Fuck did they go in that room for?" or "What The Fuck is an alien race doing invading Earth with Mac-Compatable starships?"

The Horror script I'm writing has a Sci-Fi element to it, so I'm having to somehow bullshit my way around what little "Sci" I know, in order to make the "Fi" as plausable as I can. I'm scared shitless that it's just not enough.

Ad to the fact that I basically have a list of characters with notations on how each one is supposed to die, I am busting my balls to make sure each one of them wanders into their certain doom without forcing my audience to slap themselves on the forehead saying "What The Fuck did they do that for?"

Another thing that bugs me sometimes, are heroes that prevail solely on luck. Even James Bond, Indiana Jones, and Ash have had their asses saved by the Grace of God, rather any sort of real skill or intelligence. Sure, luck plays a role in any part of life's survival. But, there is a point where it get's ridiculous.

I remember, some years ago, when Saint Burton and I were spending a summer marathoning as many mindless action films as we could, by going through the entire Action section of Movie Madness, one at a time.

About two months into this, we asked ourselves an interesting question that we have yet to find an answer to; Who the fuck is the architect that keeps designing buildings with giant spikes all over them?

Time and time again, our hero is able to rid the world of evil by giving evil a good hard shove into a wall that, luckily, had come complete with razor sharp spikes. We're also very lucky that evil never notices that those spikes are there until it's too late.

So, this is the unusually high expectation that I have set for myself. To boldly do what no screenwriter has done before; write an entirely plausible Horror/Sci-Fi script.

I must be out of my fucking mind.

Previous Posts
Me Write - You Wrong
Wasteland
Dead People Suck
Hob-Knobbin' (sp?)
Out Of The Loop
Stunted Growth
Off Topic: Culture For Sale
Don't Do Me No Favors
Bored Now...
You Think That's Funny?

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