So, I've been obsessed with this new Christian television network called NRB. It's the cool kind of crazy religious programming that aims to spread panic amongst the hordes about being "under attack" or about the people who want the "special treatment" of not being oppressed by them, and about the anti-Christian mindset of ... well, any television network that isn't Christian.
Sometimes at the hand of a puppet, I've been learning all sorts of awesome stuff about how America will collapse in "50 to 100 years" if same-sex marriage is "promoted by legislature", and that it must not cost very much for an evangelist to buy the prefix of "Dr.".
Just now, on a program called "Prophecy Watch", I learned what a "strong angel" will look like when it gets sent down from heaven in the tribulation period. It is the hope of one host of Prophecy Watch that the guardian angel assigned to him at birth was a strong angel.
I photographed the artist rendering that they showed. Note that when he arrives, he will be so large that he will be able to put "one foot on land and the other foot in the sea", clothed by cloud, with legs that resemble pillars of flame. Now, this picture says a lot. The bible doesn't say whether this is the angel Gabriel or Michael or anything, some "Doctors" even think that this could be Jesus himself. I can't wait for America to nuke something so I can see him!
The Pills That Pay The Bills
Current mood: adventurous
So, just as a quick update. Things are working out pretty well on the DEFECIT front. I'm all smooth and sassy and handsome now. So, we'll pretty much be making love any moment now. I rolled those stimulants down my throat like some badass dice and I got a whole load of shit done. I still have no clue what the hell is going on, though. I went through a wierd month or so where I almost couldn't stop working. And to a major fault, too. My body and mind were pushed into some wild territory and I had to learn real quick how to take computer breaks or I would feel like a pain man. I have been eating about a 1/4 of the volume that was previously necessary to keep that dopamine pumping hard and now that my body has changed chemistry altogether, I am so much more sensitive in the stomach and I can't eat much other than frozen low-calorie meals without regretting it a bit. This is pretty cool because my inner beauty is now being revealed like the sweet banana fruit that it is. I've peeled off about 40lbs. now.
I've changed my entire approach to existing over the past months. I've fallen in love with beauty and have glimpsed my own worth. I worked very hard on the new Faux Fox record with my MG partners and I am very proud of the result. I'm tinkering around with some mixes for a Brooklyn duo now that I'm pretty jazzed about. I am now a card carrying Krispee One, a goal I have long harbored in the back of my mind. I did some public speaking for the first time ever last month, I'm not sure if anyone knew what the heck I was talking about though. I'm thinking about applying for a patent. Working on some old projects again and planning new ones every hour or so. It seems to be going OK, albeit WAY 2 FAST!
On the down end, I really don't have a clue. I'm still pretty much a slave to this shit. The rebound symptoms hit hard and they are becoming increasingly difficult to intercept. I am focusing so intently on some things that I will lose a whole day in an instant, and it will have been something stupid like making myself a whole set of fake Adobe CS3-style icons for almost every program on my computer, or Photoshopping your girlfriend into some nefarious sexual depiction. This brain is working harder than I've ever imagined possible and I'm determined to do anything and everything that occurs to me. It's just going to take me some time to learn how to manage time and setup an infrastructure to keep me on it.
I think I may have to sacrifice my beloved boner, though. Don't worry lasses, I will still turn your ass out like a temporal mage. Just, in a more pathetic way that will make me a little sad when I think about it.
I was sick than a mug this week, too. I mean BAD sick. I think I got a sinus infection or bubonic plague or something.
Private Bitches, I Hate You
Current mood: ashamed
Category: MySpace
I have some ideas for you chumps. Write some shit about your miserable self on some ancient papyrus, paperclip some hot pictures of your beautiful breasts and emo hairstyle onto it and hide it under your pillow if you don't want me to see it. Take that cute-ass face and pretty junk off of your default picture, you private goon.
Are you ashamed of something? You don't want your B.F.F.-cum-nemesis to know that you are still an active member of society? Funky dudes won't stop telling you how sexy your 20 pages of sexy underwear photos are? Your workmates will laugh at you if they find out you're a member of the "420 fucksters against abortion" discussion group?
Melt your enemies faces off by being the coolest you possible! They wish they didn't hate you so much, so they could be nearer to you! Their blood boils as they witness the lack of influence they have on you.
Fuck your job! You're only entitled to a personal life for as long as you demand it! You're giving that company years of your life and it's none of their stupid-ass business if you need to be pleasured by strange men nightly. If they fire you because of it, commit arson.
And finally, I don't know how many hundreds of boners you're trying to give to who, but when I see that bullshit my brain impulsively tells my finger to click you. Your animal magic worked, you jerk. What follows is a crippling disappointment that serves only to contribute to the surplus of misery available to our species. Your tender aesthetic can provide such precious little moments of respite to a guy like me.
?????(HMO)???????
Current mood: awake
Category: Music
This is for my best bud in the hot tub, Regina. Thank you for being my special partner in these fragile times. You aren’t ready for this . . . . . . . . . . .
I HAS A PIFFANY.
Current mood: distressed
Category: Life
After about a week of gradually intensified study, last Saturday evening I made a realization that was at once both beautiful and powerfully devastating to me. Every single day this week has been filled with profound self-diagnosis leading me desperately and uncontrollably to tears.
For all of my adult life, I have suffered horribly from Attention Deficit Disorder and have not known.
When I was 7, I was diagnosed with ADD and prescribed Ritalin. I don't remember if it helped or not, but I remember not liking the way it made me feel and my mother decided (in her infinite wisdom) that ADD was probably some myth invented by bad parents or greedy medicine companies, and after a while (I think 2 years) the diagnosis was totally disregarded and my career as a bewildered, lazy, undisciplined, daydreaming fuck-up began.
When I was 10, I was unable to rise to a majority of academic expectations and I was banished to a special school program for asshole children where a wing of a rich kid school was devoted for miscreants to pummel me and learn via videotapes and rap music. I rode a short bus to a school far, far away where I was isolated for the whole school day in a cubicle and was rewarded plastic tokens if I managed not to commit suicide or whatever the fuck I was supposed to do. I remember eating the popcorn I had earned the privilege of eating during class with the safety scissors I was provided with. The program didn't work and my grades were still bullshit, so I returned to my regular school where new tactics for dealing with my disruptive behavior evolved rapidly (including one where I was not disciplined for anything!). I was moved to a different school for the 6th grade and I guess I fell through the cracks and resigned myself to sleeping or drawing my way through the all of the remedial classes I was sentenced to.
So, this one begat that one and that one begat this one, and begat and begat and begat, and lo and behold someone says some shit to somebody and I end up making it all the way to the 9th grade without doing any schoolwork on what I imagine to be pure physical beauty. Skipping school ruled. Avoided algebra entirely. Parents divorced and education was just not going to work anymore since I had left home by this point and started smoking cigarettes and making love. And I got head-lice a few times. GED was later painstakingly acquired.
I matured (or didn't) with the guidance of many generous stewards who managed to like my company enough to feed me and help me with my laundry and not demand much in the way of rent. I watched many of my peers move on to independence, while I barely aspired to be on time to horrible jobs that I performed poorly at and eventually lost or fled. If I was able to muster the bravado to get a driver's license, the level of responsibility needed to procure and maintain an automobile was (and remains) an impossible fantasy to me. I thought I was just a well-intentioned but quirky fellow. My mother was wrong, I wasn't going to "end up dead or in prison" by my "21st birthday". In my early twenties I got excited to go to a dumb-shit trade school that left me deep in debt and broken-spirited. The failure of what I held to be a last-ditch effort at succeeding at anything culminated to a depression/anxiety hurdle that was not easily overcome.
Most of the anguish is over now. I'm a pretty cool and collected dude. I eventually even got a bank card and quit smoking! But, my days now usually consist of me trying to do something really hard for hours only to be interrupted by random intense and intrusive daydreams, minutes long drum solos on my chest, the impulsive consumption of whatever convenient food within reach, endlessly being side-tracked from important tasks to arbitrary ones and back again. Only recently have I come to understand that the severity of these symptoms indicate the real culprit. Not laziness or apathy, but a genetic, neuro-biological difference in my brain that accounts for huge amounts of negative and some amazing positive traits. That childhood diagnosis was right as shit and I probably suffered lots of physical and emotional abuse for nothing I could ever help. I struggle now trying to finish this letter. I'm bouncing back and forth from paragraph to paragraph, often in mid-sentence.
I would love for my friends to understand this. Please do some reading about it. Forgive me for seeming inattentive or failing to deliver on so many promises. This disorder accounts for losing touch with friends, not calling, writing or replying, low tolerance for frustration or boredom, only being able to be productive under last-minute circumstances, lying and excuse-making to cover up procrastination, never being able to finish projects, not being able to recognize my own talents or skills as valuable. I could go on and on. My every move has been explained by this to the letter and strikingly. This comes at a time when I'm in the middle of some pretty intense (for me) obligations, and after probably fouling up some major career opportunities. I feel like collapsing.
In making this discovery, I made an appointment yesterday to see a doctor and I'm learning everything I can about the most effective treatment: Medication. I'm overwhelmingly relieved to learned that with treatment I could find myself to be a book-reading, project-finishing, master of time management. Something I had near completely resigned as impossible. I've read of patients experiencing total relief and being reduced to tears by their room-cleaning prowess.
Here's some links. I'm tired now. So, just letting you guys know. I'll be pretty cool soon.
Isn’t heaven enough?
Current mood: annoyed
Category: News and Politics
Heaven. That's the beclouded dimension that you go to after you die to be reunited with all your dead pets, all you can eat cookies, roads made of neccessarily value-less solid gold, and a servile population of teenage mothers, reformed prisoners, alcoholics and natural disaster evacuees.
Oh, and politicians (wink, wink)!
So, again with the house resolutions. Perhaps, as a response to a year of bestselling Fuck Yous to the prevailing superstitions of our friends and neighbors, we get not only a retarded christmas resolution that passed with flying colors, but now a resolution to officially declare the most totally awesome religion ever as the religion that built our blessed country (not slavery, the other one). This bill entirely overstates christianity (eh, I mean "Religious Faith") as the sole force of pure goodness responsible for every miraculous kitten born between then and now, full of mined quotes from known Deists surely rended out of context that are to be declared to be specially recognized as proof of christianity's validity and irremovable from our history.
If we're such a christian nation, - - - - - - - why - - - - - would these apparently pious and compassionate masters have bothered with seperating religion from government? If it's so important to our morals that we are a christian nation, why was it made to be so carefully kept in check by our constitution?
Please, urge your local christian to pray that H. Res. 888 be voted against.
A Christmas Gift from Congress
Current mood: bummed
Category: News and Politics
So,
When I initially learned about the recent resolution of H. Res. 847: Recognizing the importance of Christmas and the Christian faith, my stomach declared a "War on Dinner". This resolution was passed 372 to 9 and the author of the bill has uploaded clips of his Fox and CNN interviews to his youtube channel.
As if you needed another reason to dislike Fox news, check out the stark contrasts between the two interviews. Prick Sanchez is shown here on the CNN interview being his usual idiot self, but nonetheless engaging in a somewhat objective exchange of information.
And here, in the "fair and balanced" Fox interview, the interviewers are actually interrupting Mr. King so that they can put up pictures and read aloud the names of the evil democrat "Naysayers!" (reporting so that you can decide).
Congress shouldn't be wasting effort with ANY superstitious belief, be it Islam, Christianity, astral projection or divination. In these clips, Steve King would attempt to defend his bill by claiming that it has come out in answer to other inane resolutions. Well, two wrongs don't make a right, clown. I would also add that if that one of the core doctrines of your religion mandates, oh say, world domination (and it's arguable that it does in this case), not being allowed to dominate the world would not be evidence of an attack on that religion.
If you are a christian, and you find yourself down about this horrible war against your faith being mounted by secular elitists, and probably lesbians and feminists and everyone who are surely going to burn for eternity, you may find it convenient that you need only take any bit of currency out of your pockets to be consoled. In god you should trust that your enemies face infinite merciless torture.
I'm now going to count the days until someone will author a bill that declares "white" to be the official race of the USA. I can see the Fox news coverage now.
adventurous
ashamed
awake
distressed
annoyed
bummed
