AHHHHH! Warning ***Banana Update***

BANANA PHONE!

Banana Phone!

THAT IS ALL!

Odd... this tea tastes like balls!

So... by now, you have heard about the infamous "Alabama Tea-bagger" incident in New Orleans.

Wait... you say you haven't heard about this? What's tea-bagging, you ask? What is this "New Orleans" you speak of? 

I respond with the following... Where the hell have you been??

I mean seriously! Where?? 

Okay... recap. 

The Alabama vs. LSU game. You know the one where LSU just rolled over and took it up the butt on the football field? Well, it seems that some Alabama fans thought it was an announcement that all Louisiana residents were ready for some good, old-fashioned sexual assault. 

A man, in LSU team gear was passed out in out local Krystal. Krystal, if you don't know what that is, is kind of like White Castle... Except not. What's White Castle? What's White Castle??? 

It's what you crave... if you've never had White Castle (shame on your family for neglecting your health, mental well-being, and education while growing up)... Let me put it this way - you know those times where you have a craving, but you have no idea what you want to eat? It's really specific, but you have no clue on how to sate this hunger? 

You were craving White Castle. 

ANYWAY...

After the game, a dumb-ass in LSU gear got so inebriated that he passed out at Krystal. Lots of Alabama fans started messing with the guy. Some touched his face and put empty food containers on him. At least one fan tries to do something involving his zipper, but a female drags him off. 

Enter the "Alabama Tea-bagger." This man (alleged to be Brian Downing) walks in an flips off the fan. Proceeds to place his middle fingers in the nostril and ear of the LSU fan. After that, he unzips his pants... EXPOSES HIS TESTICLES, CLIMBS UP ON THE TABLE/CHAIR AND RUBS HIS CROTCH ON THE LSU FAN'S FACE!

This is called tea-bagging. 

Now... I will admit...I was a college student... I have stood by while a friend of mine--The Dwarf Player: Destroyer of Signs (D&D nick name, don't ask)--was hanging out with a couple of twin boys that were friends of ours. The Bloody Baron (REALLY, don't ask) got so drunk that he passed out. Normally that would result in a good antiquing. 

What's antiquing? What the hell.. Seriously people... no one ever taught you ANYTHING, did they!?

Antiquing is a prank of such diabolic proportions... NO... wait...

Antiquing is the act of taking flour and somehow introducing it to your target. The effect is that they look dusty, and their hair looks like an antique wig... Most people do this by waiting for their target to drift off (i.e. pass out form alcohol poisoning) and sprinkle flour gently on the target. 

"When I was a child, I spake as a child,
I understood as a child, I thought as a child:
but when I became a man,
I put away childish things."

In our circle of friends, the result was a lot more convincing. It really looked like you were antique.

Admittedly, our methods were akin to a savage beating. Seriously... we took a sock (we actually had a dedicated sock for this) and filled it with flour. Then, WHAM! Right in the kisser. And we didn't have to wait for them to fall asleep, either... you could get blasted while sleeping in your bed, RIGHT out of the shower, coming in the door, pulling into the drive way... You weren't even safe on campus.

I know--it's childish, but I was young. "When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things." Well, except for film making, blogging, photography, video games, texting, collecting action figures, Radio Controlled vehicles... Okay... so I'm still a child.

ANYWAY...

One night... The Bloody Baron (I SAID, "DON'T ASK!") passed out in the living room and was immediately tea-bagged (complete with photos) by the Dwarf Player and The Other Brother. 

Wait... what? You say that makes me like the Alabama fans... Yes and no... Several reasons this is different.

1) It happened in a privately owned home. 

2) They were twin brothers... which brings up it's own issues, but we had family consent.

3) We were FRIENDS! 

4) He had a chance for revenge.

5) He got his revenge.

This is what happened at Krystal.

So... tea-bagging a perfect stranger: is there ever a good time for it? Well, let's take a look at the flowchart put together by the good folks at Deadspin.com (originally posted here).

See? It's pretty damn clear. 

Now... I don't just blame Brian Downing. Or rather... The alleged Brian Downing... Wait... that's not right. You know what I mean. 

I blame all of those people standing around watching as well. It looks like it's all Alabama fans; it might be, it might not be... but most New Orleanians will step in when they see someone defacing a fan or logo of a team that we like with their testicles, so I have a pretty good idea. 

I blame the man with cell phone taking the video. 

I blame the people bellowing Roll - Tide - Roll!

I have heard people saying that we should blame the LSU fan's friends for not watching him. That's asinine. Yes, they should have been looking after him... but what if... what if... what if he wasn't out with friends? People do that, you know. They go out alone... it's one of the benefits of being an adult. Most likely, he was with friends and said "I'll be back... I have to go to fake White Castle. I know it won't satisfy my craving, but I'm drunk so I don't care."

ANYWAY...

So deadspin.com got a hold of the video and put it out there, trying to find the guy. Right off the bat, a twit... or rather a Twitter user by the name of "Konway Tweety" claimed responsibility. He caught no end of hell. The twit-sphere is harsh. 

Eventually, it came out that it was the alleged Brian Downing... Why do I keep doing that? It was allegedly Brian Downing. He lost his job; someone called his mother; his cousin, (I think it's his cousin) the sheriff , found out. And he turned himself in and came back to New Orleans to face the music.

BTW... it is NEW ORLEANS... not Nawlins. We don't go to New York and call it Nork. We don't go to New Hampshire and call it Nampshire. That whole region of the country isn't Nengland. NEW ORLEANS. (thank you to the comic who performed at C Beaver's last night whose name I cannot remember for that).

While the sentiment is correct, in light of the
situation, this is truly tasteless. 

Alabama fans have been polarized. One side has disavowed the alleged tea-bagger. The other side has embraced him--going so far as to wear this relatively offensive t-shirt (which were being sold in a parking lot for $5). Yes, that t-shirt says "BAMA TEABAGGED THE TIGERS". Aside from the obvious grammatical errors, (Should have read: " 'Bama tea-bagged the Tigers". Or even better: "Alabama tea-bagged the Tigers"...Though technically, since they are naming their school and not their mascot, it should have been "tea-bagged LSU" or Bama should have been "Tide") these fans are making light of sexual assault. I mean, really... that is what it is. 

And today, (I know I'm a couple days late) I read an article where the lawyers for the alleged Brian Downing (Miles Swanson and Michael Kennedy) said, "...it boggles the mind that with the New Orleans murder rate disturbingly high, the New Orleans Police Department and District Attorney's office would devote substantial energy and attention to this matter. To charge Mr. Downing with sexual battery demeans the real and serious trauma of actual victims of sexual violence." (the press release is here)

Go read that again... I'll wait.

These lawyers are saying that because we have a high violent crime rate, that the police shouldn't look for a criminal that they have actual footage of COMMITTING HIS CRIME. Let that sink in. We know who did it, investigative work was done, people have confirmed the identity of the man, AND he turned himself in for it--but the police shouldn't care!

They are also saying that because other people have had more traumatic experiences, pursuing this demeans the victims of other crimes. HOW? It's not as if one instance of sexual battery is worse than another! It is a violation of a person's basic right as a human being to NOT be touched when they don't want to. AND it INVOLVED THE MAN'S GENITALS!!!

They state that he has "...already been tried and convicted in the court of public opinion." Well, the right to trial by a jury of your peers is guaranteed in the Constitution, so unless you are military or high in the government, a jury trial is still necessary. And when the prosecution shows the video, the jury will react the same way. 

They then SCOLD THE DA's OFFICE and advise keeping "it's priorities in line with addressing real crime in New Orleans"!!! 

What the fuck? Seriously? What are these lawyers trying to pull? This is a real crime. 

Let's look a little closer. The lawyers claim that the victim "...was so intoxicated that he would have had no recollection of the incident, but for a video posted online. Any 'harm' is entirely post hoc and amplified by media more concerned with ratings and sensationalism than covering substantive news."

This sounds like a reasonable argument, until it is put in perspective:

A girl goes to a party. She passes out drunk with no recollection of the night. 2 months later, she realizes she is pregnant. 

What if that LSU fan was your daughter, sister, mother, grandmother or wife? 

What if the Alabama fan had been a priest? 

What if it was you with the balls on your face? (Though, if you are one of the people standing outside and inside Krystal that night, you have probably seen a couple close up before this event)

As it stands he could possibly see 25 years in prison. I don't think they will be that extreme in their handling of this case. I mean, he turned himself in and willingly traveled down here to face the music. But, honestly, I want to see him get the most punishment possible for this. 

I am tired of seeing tourists come down to New Orleans and treat it like a toilet. 

I can't count the number of times I have been walking in the French Quarter and had the following conversation.

Tourist 1 (To 2): God! New Orleans is a shit hole.

Tourist 2: I know, right?

Me: Hey guys! Where you from? 

Tourist 1: ***Insert place name here***

Me: Well, wanna know why New Orleans is so horrible?

Tourist 2: Uh... yeah?

Me: Because ***Insert place name here*** sends disrespectful, drunkard fuckheads down to New Orleans to party and you guys just piss, puke, fuck, litter and harass your way through the town without rhyme or reason. In short - YOU are the reason New Orleans sucks.

Tourist 1: Fuck you, Asshole! 

Me: No, thank you. I don't know what you have, and I don't want my dick to rot off. 

Pressure washing your piss and puke off our streets.

I mean, we actually have trucks with pressure washers that spray down the street and side walk. They blast the  vomit and piss off the street and sprays a deodorant. This is only necessary in the French Quarter... where the tourists go. So... as my grandfather used to say, "If the foo shits." 

And the thing is, people all over the place feel this way. It makes me wonder why, if you feel like that, you'd be coming to our town to party... I mean, that tells me that you traveled hundreds of miles to party in a shit-hole. Seriously, what does that say about you? Really? 

NO!!! 

ANSWER ME!!!

ANYWAY...

That kind of sums it all up. I think that the alleged Brian Downing should not go to prison. He should be held til the Saints' preseason starts... and then, after practice one day, all salty and sweet from the New Orleans heat -- hot enough to do some "Crotch Pot" cooking, the Saints' players should all teabag him... 

One at a time. 

On camera... 

in a packed SuperDome... 

while the Saints fans and LSU fans stand around and call "Roll Tide Roll!"

This is what it looks like after one day during Mardi Gras... this isn't even Fat Tuesday. Our waste processors
need an earth mover to get all the crap off the street. Clean up after yourselves. 

Quantum leap... wait... jump?

Welcome to Quantum Jump Vacations... our cruising altitude today is somewhere between weird as fuck... and insanity... the weather at our destination is a balmy "WTF?"

http://www.daviddarling.info/images/
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Quantum Jumping... mark my words, it's going to be all the rage... all the kids will be doing it. According to "science" one guy has been doing it for over 30 years!

In short, quantum jumping is a theory. No... it's magic. I mean... it's a way...

OKAY... we've gotta go back a bit.

The current model of the universe states that there are multiple "parallel" universes. I know it sounds odd, but it is true... The math says it is. Stephen Hawking says it is. Hell, Fox News says it's true, so it has to be, right?

ANYWAY...

There's this guy, Burt Goldman, that claims he has PROOF that parallel universes exist. He's been jumping between them for years. Never mind that, according to the math that the moment a parallel is created we are unable to access it due to radically different quantum states... or some such thing. Never mind that the greatest minds in the world think that black holes, white holes (which haven't been found yet) and the like are the only ways to do it. Never mind that it would take incredible amounts of energy to piece the veil between them if it's possible.

http://www.facebook.com/
BurtGoldmanFanPage

Burt Goldman is... a. maz. ing! The man can breach the very walls between universes... WITH HIS MIND!

Don't believe me? I wouldn't either, but according to these wack-a-roons he totally can! They say, "Over 3 decades ago, upon learning this theory, a man named Burt Goldman asked himself a question – “What if I could find a way to communicate with these alternate versions of myself, these doppelgangers, and learn from them? What if I could draw from their experiences, their knowledge, their skills, and improve my own life in the process?”

This was the starting point of Quantum Jumping, a unique meditation and visualization technique created by Burt that allows anyone to tap into the power of their minds to communicate with alternate versions of themselves."

Well sign me the fuck up!

I mean... Honestly, I can't think of anyone I would rather talk to. I am a misanthrope, set aside from the rest of humanity by a deep seated disdain for humanity in all its facets... The rest of me have to be just as cool.

Here's the problem... If I am arrogant enough to think that another ME has all the answers... Then I am willing to bet the other ME will think I am a loser.

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The theory behind the whole parallel universe thing is that every choice in your life can and does happen. If there are 4 outcomes to a situation possible, they all happen. There are some different outlooks. Some physicists say that each of these events will spawn a new universe. Some say that only changes that effect the fabric of reality (big changes) have enough energy to actually create a spin off. Either way... that means that, according to modern physics, for every major event, there are at least 2 universes created. ALL THE WAY BACK TO THE BIG BANG. (Unless you are a fundamentalist religion person and then it goes all the way back to the... "Well, this looks like as good a place as any" of your particular creation story.)

Erwin Schrodinger came up with a thought experiment that was a clear explanation of the "Copenhagen Interpretation" of quantum mechanics. The thought experiment has come to be known as "Schrodinger's Cat." It was simple. You put a cat in a sound proof box. You also put a device in the box. The device goes off at a random time and kills the cat. (I know, right?)

His thought experiment was supposed to show that, until observed, very little in the universe has any set form. It's a weird thing about quantum mechanics, looking at something can change it. Well, maybe not that weird. I look at breasts and something changes...

Wait... that's not right... actually, it is... but it is TOTALLY off topic. Unless there are breasts in the box. Are  there breasts in the box? Give me a second, I have to go read over this experiment again.

The cat is both alive and dead.
http://www.splitreason.com/Product
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Nope. No breasts in the box, so that is totally out of line.

So. What Schrodinger says is that until we look in the box, we can't know if the cat is alive or dead. From a quantum mechanics standpoint this LITERALLY means that until we observe it, the cat is both. Alive and dead. Which is really the scary part to me. That means the poor cat is in some zombie like state until some sadistic scientist opens the box.

This is where quantum mechanics gets even weirder... at least on the subject of cats. According to our current understanding of the whole box, cat dilemma - every time they have put the cat in the box with the cat-killing-at-a-random-time device, all possible outcomes have happened. This means that one experiment will yield the following universes: 1) Cat alive universe. 2) Cat dead universe. 3) Cat undead (both) universe. 4) Cat still in box because sadist scientist was eaten by a different undead cat universe. 5) Cat disappears only to be replaced by hungry wolverine universe. 6) Cat escapes box universe. 7) Box and cat simultaneously decide to become a non-event mass with a quantum probability of Zero (thus disappearing) universe. 8) Cat is the sadistic fuck and puts a physicist in a box with a physicist-killing-at-a-random-time device.

You see where this is going, right?

According to quantum mechanics, the universe is a really weird place, so it's probably best to be a really careful driver. You don't want to get out of your car to investigate what you just hit.

http://d24w6bsrhbeh9d.cloudfront.net/
photo/414514_700b.jpg 

Thing is... it should have been Schrodinger's dog. Seriously... have you ever tried to put a cat in a box? They are squirmy and tricksy... and in the case of my cats, smart enough to recognize a  cat-killing-at-a-random-time device when they see one. If he knew cats, he would know that there would be no way to even perform the experiment... even in thought!

ANYWAY...

Where was I... Oh, right... Burt and his miracle vacations to other universes... I mean, quantum jumping.

Let's assume that Burt is right and telling us the truth. Let's assume that Burt can do this. Let's assume that Burt is not actually a crazy person, is not lying, doing hallucinogenic drugs, fucking with us or just a scam artist. Let's also assume that he's not a genetic mutant and the only one in the universe that can do this.

Would you really want to?

Really... would you want to? Let's go right back to the box. All those outcomes... And give it some real deep thought.

I almost died on a couple occasions... One of them I got my dumb-ass electrocuted to a nice medium rare. Doctors said that I was lucky to not suffer debilitating brain damage. (He doesn't know me very well.) One was a car wreck. I could very well have been maimed.

I could have:
stayed with my ex-wife.
fallen for any number of religious scams.
been a republican.
been a democrat.
gone to clown college. (DO NOT ASK!)

This is how I feel most of the time. 

My point is... While there may be more successful "MEs" out there... I am pretty sure, just by the law of averages, that there a lot of them out there that are a lot less successful than I am now.

Ever seen the movie multiplicity? Yeah... if you haven't I recommend it... it was an amusing watch. But I asked you that so I could show you this.

This is who I would end up meeting on my dimension hopping journeys. And the thing is, ten bucks says, that due to quantum entanglement, EVERY TIME I WENT ON AN EXCURSION, he'd do it at the exact same moment. So every time I would end up with this goofy bastard staring at me from across the table.

If Burt is right, and his guided meditation technique works, my subconscious would guarantee it. Or worse yet... I would be sitting across the table from a me without a goatee. You know, the one with the goatee is the evil one. And I would be forced to deal with the fact that I'm the bad one.

I know it would happen.... since I read about this Quantum Jumping thing, I have dreamt about it several times...

Worse yet... I'd meet a whole bunch of MEs and we'd all be poor, starving artists that can't sleep, have asperger's syndrome and mixed bipolar... In short, I'd spend my vacation time with a bunch of assholes!

No thank you. I have plenty of that right here in... What do we call this place... Universe Prime? Universe A? Universe 1? Meh... I'm just going to call it home.

Here we are, meeting for the first time. I'm not sure which
is which, but I KNOW we both love coca-cola!

Sorry about not posting. I was dying after all

Sisterface is super-foxy - true story.

I am serious. I went to the Fondue Goddess' house and the Sisterface had something. Something foul and evil. She had serious Kathleen Turner voice... Smoky, smoldering... hot... Of course, it helps that the Sisterface is already super-foxy... True story.

ANYWAY...

I left the Fondue Goddess' house and went on my merry way. Meanwhile, the alien invader had hitched a ride in my sinuses. It took the next 24 hours to set up housekeeping. And it moved in with a vengeance. It was like my sinuses were prime real estate right between a sewage treatment facility and Ke$ha. I swear, my sinuses were Chateau du Mal Voisin... house of the bad Neighbor.

Then they opened up for business and my sinuses shut down. I do not exaggerate when I say, it was horrrrrrrrriiiiifffffiiiicccccc... My sinuses swelled shut, put pressure on my ears and eyes as well as evicting the stuff that should be there. Oh... and they started stabbing at my brain.

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The general upshot of this was misery... The specifics of this are as follows:

1. Putting pressure on the ears. This is unpleasant for many reasons. You know when you go swimming and your ears pop inward. It was uncomfortable and made it hard to hear? I spent a week like that. Oh, and since it was putting pressure on the ear canals, I was having problems with balance.
2. The eye thing. Your eyes sit right above your nasal passages. When your sinuses are swollen, they push on your eyes. In some cases, you can actually get some... material crossover from sinus to eyes. Yes, I had snotty eyes and the back end of my nose was trying to evict my eyes. I felt like a pug. 
3. I was drippy... ew.
4. I don't know why, but the noisy neighbors in my nose felt that my brain needed to be somewhere else... so they too small spears and started stabbing my brain... MY BRAIIIIIIIIINNNNNNN. This means head ache. Bad head ache... migraine level headache. 

Why am I telling you all of this? It's to come to the real point. I could not sleep. I'm already an insomniac. The illness was trying to kill me with sleep deprivation. If you've never died of sleep deprivation, let me assure you. It is an unpleasant way to go... well that is until you start hallucinating.

Let me tell you something: When your 2 pound (tiny cat) starts talking to you like Isaac Hayes (that is to say, all deep and mellow-like) about the giant bunny that is living under the oven and what you ought to do about it (Her solution was a water-bazooka like affair... because... giant, stove dwelling bunnies don't like water...?), you want the death to come sooner than later.

Then... it happened... me fever broke, I soaked my sheets in sweat... and started to get better. I still sound horrible, but I can breathe... I am better... Below is my me a day from the midst of being icky.

If you look real close, you can see my eyes falling out and my ears pulsing.

ANYWAY...

So, now I have survived and I have to go. I have to go reclaim all the stuff, like my TV, X-box, PS3 that I "bequeathed" to my friends since I was dying.

This is the last of it... I promise

Update: I FOUND THIS! 

That is the last one... I promise...

That is all.

I ain't saying nothin'!

YOU ASKED FOR IT!

Banana videos!

Oh, and a pickle rap!

That is all.

"Wait. Isn't there more? Aren't you going to say something about these? You have an healthy obsession with bananas!"

Nope. Nope. And absolutely.

STOP SOPA and PIPA

It's January the 18th... internet blackout day... people have become so upset over the internet piracy acts that MAJOR websites are down for the day in protest.

Today, your internet will look like this:

This is Craigslist.com today.

And this:

And this is Wikipedia. 

"But, Blue Haired Weirdo! What does it mean?!"

It means that congress is in the pockets of companies like News Corp, RIAA, MPAA, Nike, Sony, Comcast, and VISA.

"Aren't you over reacting Oh, Wizard of Wonder-colored Plumage?"

No. I'm not.

Let's take a look at the two bills.

PIPA.
It's an acronym for the Protect Intellectual Property Act. PIPA is a rewrite of a failed bill (Combating Online Infringement and Counterfeits Act - 2010). PIPA, if passed will give US companies and the US government the right to take legal action against any website that they feel is promoting, engaging in or enabling copyright infringement.

PIPA would do the following.
(the following wording is stolen from directly from Jamal's Blog - stop in and show him some love... and traffic)

• Force U.S. internet providers to block access to websites deemed as enablers of copyright infringement
• Seek legal action by suing search engines, blog sites, directories, or any site in general to have the black listed sites removed from their website
• Will be able to force advertising services on infringing websites, and those supporting of them, to remove them from their advertising accounts
• Companies will also have the power to sue any new websites that get started after this bill is passed, if they believe that they are not doing a good job of preventing infringement on your website

That is pretty far reaching, but it gets worse.

SOPA
The Stop Online Piracy Act. This one is an add on to the PRO-IP act of 2008.

SOPA and PIPA are good friends and will work together if passed. They will frolic along like rabid pit-bulls doing the bidding of the media conglomerates, acting as their own personal black list.

(the following wording is stolen from directly from Jamal's Blog - stop in and show him some love... and traffic)

• The U.S. Attorney General can now seek a court order that would force search engines, advertisers, DNS providers, servers, and payment processors from having any contact with allegedly infringing websites
• It will allow private corporations to create their own personal hit lists composed of websites they feel are breaking their copyright policies, ironically this doesn’t have any odd feelings of a legal mafia at all. These companies will be able to directly contact a website’s payment processors a notice to cut all off payment involvement with the targeted website. This payment processors and website of question will then have five days to act before it is simply taken down.
• Payment processors will have the power to cut off any website they work with, as long as they can provide a strong reason of why they believe this site is violating copyrights

This means youtube, hulu, blogs... A lot of stuff could be considered IP theft... and they might just... disappear.

One of my favorite sites... That Guy With The Glasses has, in the past, received notification of copyright infringement in the past. They fought it and won. Under the SOPA PIPA dynasty, they would have just had to take down the video or the site would be de-listed. De-listed, for those of you who are not tech savvy, means that it would just disappear from the interwebs... Poof... for good.

"But Feral-One! This is all politics! Why should I care!?"

Because it effects you. Go to https://www.google.com/landing/takeaction/ sign the petition. Protect free speech and a free web.

So... go there... sign the petition unless Orwell's 1984 sounds like a good place to live.

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You wouldn't understand

I'm a banana!

That is all.

I cannot sleep

Here it is... 5:33 am.

I have a meeting with Liam: The Brick today.

I should have been asleep hours ago... but I can't sleep.

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When I was a child, it would have been because there was a monster under the bed. Unfortunately, it's not like that. There's no monsters under my bed. There's no room. My bed is a memory foam mattress on the floor. I know - I am a grown ass man. I should not be living like a college student.

There are a couple reasons for this. I have a bad back. I need support that a traditional box spring/mattress combination cannot provide. The problem with this is that I can't put it on a normal bed, so I have to make my own. I have the skill and the tools. The problem is that wood is expensive. All of my money is in film making. So... when I get a distribution deal, I build a bed.

But, no. It's not monsters under the bed.

It's monsters in my head.

I worry about things. That is part of anxiety disorders. I worry about odd shit... but these things that I can't fix... I can't help worrying about them either. Add to that, the mixed bipolar... Basically it takes all these things and puts them in a demonic blender of anxiety and worry in my head. Some of them are valid... some are stupid... but they all scare me.

Oh, Daddy! You are silly! I would not crush your head. I
would eat you instead!

What if the ceiling comes crashing down on me in the middle of the night?

What if the floor (which we already know is partially bad from previous repairs) gives out?

What if Zoe gets in my room at night and sits on my head? She's Fat and that would crush my skull.

Meteors. I worry about them. Limnic eruptions. Black holes and ray bursts. All kinds of things astronomical.

What if I am just part of someone else's dream? Or what if the world exists because I believe it does... What happens if I lose my faith?

What if one of the religions is right?

Does god have feet?

This scares the hell out of me!

What if those petty people who don't like me or my work are right? What if it does suck? What if I am only the next Ed Wood?

What if my penis is small and everyone I have ever been with has just being nice?

What if my diabetes makes me blind or takes a foot?

Oh, God! Did I leave the stove on, front door unlocked, shoes by the door, tv on, fryer on, dryer going, heat turned up, water running?

What if Al Gore's inconvenient truth is right? What if it's wrong?

What if, in spite of all the medicines they've tried and want to try, my brain just can't be fixed?

Am I too tall? I mean, is almost 7 feet, too tall?

Why do my pants cost so much?

Why are lenses so damn expensive?

Is my misanthropy a result of genetics, brain malfunction, experience or something else... and does it make me a bad person?

Why can't I write when I want to?

Will TOR publish my book?

Will ANYONE publish my books?

Why is my hair blue? Why not pink or green?

Little people... scare me...

OMG the uncanny valley!

THIS GUY PERSONIFIES THE UNCANNY VALLEY.

Okay. Now that I have given myself the willies... I think I am gonna take a bath.

Harry Potter confuses me...

I make it a rule not to bash something that I have not experienced. So, this last holiday season, I set out to watch the Harry Potter Movies. As much as it disturbs me to say, I enjoyed them. Very much... HOWEVER, they left me with a mighty metric ton of questions.

• Voldemort is supposed to be the ultimate evil of this world. What's his beef with England? I mean, really. Why not the USA? Oh, wait... that's right... there is no mention of America in the movies... ok... why not France? We KNOW there is a school there. 
• In the final battle, which is supposed to be for the fate of the ENTIRE MAGICAL WORLD... Where were the students from the French school and the Durmstrang institute?
• The great hall is small. It is TOO small. These are all of the students from ALL OVER England. 7 years, 4 houses - that hall is too small to contain them all. I mean, look at the number of adults in the Ministry of Magic. There would have to be a lot more room to contain all their children. Which brings me to this:
• Why is there only one school in England? Seriously. With the distaste for the "Mudbloods" from the "Purebloods", you'd think there would be more than one school.
• Hagrid is half giant. His mother is giant... his father human... HOW DOES THIS WORK? I mean, talk about a hot-dog and a hallway. That was rude, and I'm sorry... but seriously... HOW DOES THIS WORK???
• Okay... Nearly Headless Nick gets to become a ghost. In the book, there was mention of "unfinished business." Wouldn't you say that Dumbledore has this? Unfinished business? Why isn't Dumbledore a ghost?
• How does Voldemort get his wand back? He used it in Harry's house and is blown to bits... That means it should have been there... did no one search for clues? Did they just leave it there?
• Why the hell was Peter Pettigrew sorted to Gryffindor? They are supposed to be brave and noble... and Pettigrew was a sniveling coward of a man.
• The Marauder's Map. How the hell did Fred and George NOT NOTICE that Pettigrew was next to him in their years of mischief making?
• Hermione is tired her entire third year... Why didn't she just use the time turner and and sleep a couple extra hours.

• The ghosts can't touch anything. Why the hell does Moaning Mertle's Toilet explode with water?
• Hagrid is expelled an banned from performing and learning magic due to the "fact" that the Aragog was killing people. Chamber of secrets, it is shown that it wasn't him. Why isn't he apologized to and given full permissions again?
• SNAPE... He was headmaster of the school. Then he died... Why wasn't his portrait in the hall?
• Harry has his mother's eyes... but the actress playing Lilly has brown eyes.
• Why was Lilly allowed to magic away from school as a girl? Petunia said, "came home every vacation with her pockets full of frog spawn, turning teacups into rats".
• Dumbledor was fighting Voldemort with the Elder wand. Why didn't he just turn Voldemort into a greasy spot on the floor?
• when dumbledore meets tom riddle the first time, tom says he can speak to snakes. years later when the chamber of secrets is opened isnt tom the only one who could have done it?
• And why is Harry Potter NAKED with a HORSE?!?

Now don't get me wrong... I have thoroughly enjoyed the movies... I just think about these things... I just get curious, dammit!

Uh, yeah? Your'e a towel.

I suck at small talk. I mean, I really suck at small talk. I really, REALLY suck at small talk. 

The following is just one example. 

Random Person Whose Name is Unimportant - "How's life?"

Me (Cheerfully) - "Subject to entropy, chaos, decay and eventual death. How's your mom?"

Random Person Whose Name is Unimportant - "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

And this is my life. Imagine that normal is a level line. You know the line... when you fill a cup with water, the water automatically makes a level line due to surface tension and gravity. That's normal. 

This is me.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/patrickiven/4411225296/

As you can PLAINLY see, my level line is not the same as yours. Well... that may not be true. There is about a 99.5% chance that my level line is not the same as yours. 

The previous conversation is just one example. There are many more.

As a misanthrope, I spend a great deal of time at home. I don't like going out in public because there are a great number of people out there. And as the term misanthrope implies (Okay - misanthrope outright says it.), I don't really like people. 

That and going out amongst people typically requires pants. And, I have stated previously, pants are evil. This is a fact.

Recently, I went to the industry (and by industry, I mean film) holiday party. I had to use the bathroom. I sat down in the stall to do my... business. After a minute or so, another guy came in. He went into the stall next to mine. After a minute, he talked to me.

Now... to me, this was weird, but I was raised right. If you are addressed, it is polite to respond.

Guy: Hey, man.

Me: Um... hi?

Guy: How are you doing?

Me: I'm... fine?

Guy: Whatcha doin?

Me: Ummmm... That should be obvious.

Guy: Listen, Frank. I'm gonna let you go. The guy in the stall next to me keeps responding.

Is it me? Or rather, was it me? I'll say it again... I was raised right. I don't want to hear you doing your business, so I'm not going to talk to you on the phone while I am in the bathroom. Not only is it rude, but you don't need to hear the magical music that my butt makes. (For the record, my butt, like Detroit, is a wondrous place. Wait... that's not right.) 

Weird conversations abound in my life. 

Customer: How can I connect two computers... like with LAN, but without cables or a router.

Tech 1: You could use a USB cable... there are some programs that will let you do that.

Me: Have you tried glue?

- Or - 

On the bus a woman in high heels steps on my foot. She looks down at me and says, "I'm sorry. Did that hurt?

I can't help myself... "Not at all. I'm on a local anisthetic."

- Or - 

"Hey! You look great! Did you get a haircut?"

"Nope, it's fall! I'm shedding my winter coat. Thank you for the compliment though."

- or -

"Why is your hair blue?"

"Because pink si a summer color, duh!"

-------------------------------------

I guess my point is that I see things in a different light and I'm about 5 degrees off cool. And for a misanthrope, I am damn friendly. 

I have no idea where this was going, so I'll just say good night.

OMG! My childhood... seems a little closer than it was a couple minutes ago!

I just wanted to share this ... it is a case of pure win! I mean a WHOLE case of it.

That is all!

WTF is wrong with you hoonam?

When you dance around your living room, semi-naked (don't ask) singing Raffi's song "Banana Phone" to a large floofy cat... it turns out that they are not amused.

That is all.

HOLY CRAP! Where have you been all my life?!

It is rare that I see something and just want to have it.

I was watching live TV... (that post is here.) and I saw this!

I have looked at a couple reviews and I WANT THIS!!!

THINK ABOUT IT! Screw the environmental impact. (Don't get me wrong... I LOVE the environment. I recycle. I sort my trash. I use reusable containers, but this is NOT why I want this)

YOU CAN MAKE ANYTHING INTO A SODA POP! CRYSTAL LIGHT, THAT MIO STUFF!

I am soooooo saving my future found pants dollars for this!

Sodastream website

Netflix is off... UPDATE!!!

For this to make any sense... you should totally read my last blog post.

I said that I want my netflix back...

Then I saw this commercial <-- click the link and watch it.

I SAID WATCH IT!

Now I don't want anything to do with netflix either.

My netflix is off and i am horrified by modern tv.

I make movies for my day job. That is to say... I am a film maker and I spend all my extra money making movies. Film making is one of those weird businesses that show no return on your investment until you "make it."

This year, if I may so, is our year. We have 12 episodes of a web series going up, we have 6 shorts for competition, and at least one feature film.

Everyone always says, "You make movies! That's exciting!"

No. No.. it's not.

Making movies id boring, hard work. It's filled with repetition and paper work.

http://www.mash4077tv.com/

Think about your favorite conversation in your favorite movie. This is my favorite example. Let's assume that the actors don't flub their lines and that they give the performance that the director wants on every take. To shoot this scene they had to shoot it a minimum of 5 times. 1 take with both of them in the shot. 1 over the shoulder on both characters (these can be shot at the same time). 1 for each of the face on close ups (done one at a time). And 1 for the profile shots (shot at the same time). Boring...

Think about how many pages you read when you sit on the toilet. That's what? 10 pages? Even if you're reading something like teen people (sparsely printed pages) or Reader's Digest (small pages), that's a lot of text.

The image to the right is an example of a page from a script (that one's from the show, M.A.S.H.). As you can see, there is a white space. Your average movie is 85-120 pages. In Hollywood, they average 7 pages a day.

Read it again... In Hollywood, they average 7 pages a day.

We're indie - this means we do, by ourselves, things that take 10-15 people to do, so we take it a little slower.

ANYWAY...

Since we're indie, there are no other people to do all the tedious things. That means that my partner and I get to do things like "break downs," (going through the script and listing everything from location to characters to props in every scene), counting the 8ths, (calculating how long each scene is to the nearest 8th of a page), and setting up shooting scripts.

With my ADHD, I have can't concentrate. Well, that's not true... I can concentrate... but only if there is something going on in the room that I can ignore. I know, right? Typically, I watch television via netflix to do this.

Due to a snafu with funds - My netflix is OFF!!!

 And this is how I feel about it.

So... I've been forced to watch *GASP* LIVE TELEVISION!

I'm not talking about telethons or anything. I mean the stuff that is on television as we speak.

TV has changed.

A LOT.

When I was a kid - if you didn't like what was on, you just had to wait 30 minutes and there was ANOTHER SHOW ON!

What the fuck happened???

I am serious. Today, every show i saw was on in 2-4 hour blocks. It's like every channel had a marathon going. It was weird.

I, literally, could have watched the old show "Friends" ALL day. Seriously. When one 9 hour block ended, all I had to do was change the channel and BAM! There it was! "Friends"!

I DIDN'T watch friends all day, but I could have.

What I did watch, however was "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia", "How I Met Your Mother", and "Futurama".

It turns out that "How I Met Your Mother", "Friends", "Always Sunny" can be seen 24 hours a day.

It gets worse. Seriously... The "Simpsons" may get its own channel. I really like this quote: ""The Simpsons" has been on the air for 23 seasons, yielding a library of programming few series could ever amass."

And you know what? Fuck Willie Nelson and Sarah McLaughlin! You guys are talented musicians. You make a lot of money as musicians. I know it only takes $18 a day to help an animal in a shelter...

Guess what? I don't need your emotional terrorism 4-6 times a damn hour. I don't need to cry...

I have rescued cats... the evil one that lives in the kitchen is a cat that was rescued from the streets... I don't have a photo of that one on this computer, so you have to make do with Lilly and her judgement.

Oh, btw... I am thinking of driving out to the Geico headquarters and fire-bomb them for their new ad campaign. I'm not kidding... that pig does not make me want to do anything anywhere near buying insurance... it makes me wanna eat bacon.

You ask, "What are you talking about?"

I am talking about this.

Yeah... Fuck that pig.

I think i am going to end this entry before I just devolve into random, free floating aggression.

But I want my NetFlix back!

Betrayal most foul.

So... I have been writing since I was... Wait a sec... I have to think about that... I have been writing since I was 13. That's 24 years. ANYWAY... I keep notebooks of ideas. I keep them to keep track of my ideas, because I forget things. It also allows me to develop the ideas with writing exercises like lists and the idea web...

I have had many ideas over the years... MANY...

I've had ideas for stories, movies, scripts, role-playing games.

I have seen a lot of my ideas pop up elsewhere. I am serious. I know some people say that and they are just bullshitting... but the ideas for the faster than light travel in Gene Roddenberry's Andromeda, the continuation of the Stargate Universe in Stargate SG-1, and a few others...

Most of them are little things, like a gun, a piece of tech, a location, a science fiction race, etc. A lot of these, I actually have witnesses for.

I am a role-player... No... not those kinds of role-playing games... Get your mind out of the gutter!!! I am talking about games like D&D... For the longest time, I ran an RPG using the Hero System. It was back in the day... when 5th edition was king. It was a Star Hero campaign... a long running space opera.

It ran for almost 6 years.

OFTEN, my players would come back to me and say "Hey, Feral! Remember that ***INSERT OBJECT, CHARACTER, PLANET*** that was in the game a while back?"

I would answer, with trepidation in my voice..."Yes?"

"Well I just saw it on ***INSERT MEDIA OUTLET HERE***!!!"

The running joke was that they were reading my notebook, or that we had a spy in our midst. For a while, I was concerned enough about this, that I kept the notebook with me... NEVER LETTING IT OUT OF MY SIGHT. It still happened routinely, so I relaxed my hold on the book.

I could only assume that good ideas can't be held close to the breast... if an idea is good enough, it will be had by multiple people...

This is Zoe. She is a traitor.

That is what I thought til tonight.

Tonight I came downstairs and found my notebook laying open and my cat, Zoe, with her head buried deep in my notebook.

I have always had cats. Always. As long as the notebook has existed, there have been cats in my life.

What I am saying is that the cats in my life are traitors. They are spies. They are furry Eggs Benedicts!

Wait. That's not right...

http://funny-pictures-blog.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/09/Spy-cat.jpg

They are all furry little versions of Benedict Arnold.

This means that my cat, Smudge (who is 20 years old and still kicks the asses of Mom's other cats) was a traitor. Well, I should have known that... when I went to West Virginia to help after Dad had a stroke, she abandoned me in favor of Mom.

Watch out people... our four footed friends are all in cahoots.

I'm watching you...

I have taken precautions... Everything in the notebook is copyrighted.

So be warned... I'm onto you... and copyright is FEDERAL LAW... That means, you won't go to a white-collar tennis prison, you little punks... You will go to a federal, pound you in the butt prison!

I'm watching you!

On a side note, the title of this episode would have been so much funnier if I had ducks... I'm totally getting ducks now. The pun opportunities are endless!

No... my hair color has nothing to do with any football team

Seriously... it doesn't... being in New Orleans during the new year, with the BCS championship and the sugar bowl going on, I have been asked by at least 10 (and this is no exaggeration) people, "Is your hair blue because you are a ***INSERT TEAM NAME HERE*** fan?

NO! Now stop asking!

This poor bastard.

This poor bastard has met his match.

I'm like Luke Skywalker because of a friend's cat

The title of this post may confuse you, but listen to the tale of the evil one with the tail...

Wait. That's not right...

You may have heard (seen) me mention the Fondue Goddess before. I'm serious... she's a goddess... of fondue... her business card says so.

The Fondue Goddess has a cat. This cat is named Rocky. She calls him, "Handsome Kitty"... I call him evil.

One of the first times I met Rocky. I was doing what I do with cats. (Get your mind out of the gutter) I was petting him. Rocky, for some reason loves me. I pick him up, insta-purr. I make fun of him, he rubs on me... We're bros... we're brothers from another... species?

http://cataddictsanonymouse.tumblr.com

ANYWAY...

Rocky, it turns out is a tricksy hobbitses... He flopped over onto his belly, inviting me to scratch. Well... I have four cats in my home - Zoe, Trance, Meep and Lilly.

I know... I should order my crazy cat lady starter kit now.

Now, I will let you know this: I am not your standard, inexperienced cat owner. I have had cats all my life. I know that these are not the cuddly, cute sweethearts they want everyone to believe they are. In reality, owning a cat is a great deal like living with a bipolar schizophrenic who is in the midst of a hyper-manic episode and high on PCP. Add to this the fact that they have razor blades in their feet and needles in their face. Did I also mention that they have an enzyme in their saliva that is extremely painful to about 70% of all humans and cats mouths have so many bacteria in their mouths that a bite can become infected within 30 minutes? It's a bit like living with Lindsay Lohan... or the Jonas Brothers.

Needless to say, this isn't my first rodeo. Like most  bipolar schizophrenic who is in the midst of a hyper-manic episode, they have different personalities.

I honestly wasn't thinking when I reached down to scratch his belly.

Both the Fondue Goddess and the Sisterface cried out as I reached for his furry undercarriage.

It was like one of those moments of realization in a bad action movie, right before the bomb goes off... Time slowed down as they called in unison...

"Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!"

It was too late. I had realized too late... it was a trap.

Like the X-men's Wolverine, his claws and teeth came out. (Sorry to interrupt the narrative, but the first time I wrote that sentence, I typed "his clause and teeth came out." Doesn't that just call up images of the cat snapping his fingers *I KNOW CATS DON'T HAVE FINGERS* and another cat, a lawyer cat strolling in to present me with a cease and desist order???)

With a metallic clang, the strap snapped shut. Rocky was gone and all I was left with was a bloody stump.

http://www.harrr.org/robotpower/wp-content/uploads/2009/10/LukeHand.jpg

I was rushed to the hospital frigate and they replaced my hand with one of those cool bionic ones, just like Luke has.

Or maybe that was the toxic enzyme in his slobber... I'm too afraid to find out though, so we may never know.

True story.

There is a cat in my pants

I just went to get dressed and go see a friend (The Fondue Goddess)... and there is a cat in my pants.

I will say it again because it bears repeating....

There.
Is.
A.
Cat.
In.
My.
Pants.

It's not Lilly... thank god... she'd be judging me... "You are going outside... again? WTF hoonam?!"

It's not Zoe... this is a good thing because she's so fat she'd rip them out.

It's not Meep... That is sad... All I'd have to do is pat my leg and she'd come over and I could have my pants back.

It's Trance.

Trance is the devil... She is evil... bad tempered... ho-bag, bitchy, snarly, clawed, razor edged, demon of a wild animal that lives in my kitchen. (Unless I am in the kitchen... Seriously, she can't stand to be in the same room with me most of the time. If I am in the kitchen, she is not.) This evil... puss-ifer of a cat is in my pants.

I have no choice. I'm going to go pick up the Fondue Goddess without pants...