Sunday, December 6, 2009
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Sunday, November 22, 2009
If You Asked Me For More...
I would give it. And you did. Actually, no. No you didn't ask me for more, but I'm moving into the real of Twatters. I have a Twat account now.
What's that for? Nice. It's for fucking with your head day to day like. You see, I aven't always got the 400 words or so to make your life a slick dream, see? So, if I take the 15 or so words I DO got every day and melt them into some creamy alfredo sauce type blurbs, you'll be able to slurp up on my Murk whenever you want and always have it be freshy fresh. Dig?
It's not a blog.
Naw. Not a blog.
It's a Twat. So, go look at my Twat.
What's that for? Nice. It's for fucking with your head day to day like. You see, I aven't always got the 400 words or so to make your life a slick dream, see? So, if I take the 15 or so words I DO got every day and melt them into some creamy alfredo sauce type blurbs, you'll be able to slurp up on my Murk whenever you want and always have it be freshy fresh. Dig?
It's not a blog.
Naw. Not a blog.
It's a Twat. So, go look at my Twat.
Monday, November 16, 2009
A Horrifying Story
I went into one of those freaky massage parlors with the mirror glas storefront windows. You know the type. You do right? The ones for fuckin'. So, I went into one to get some... well, whatever it is guys get when they go in to get some. I was all about that.
Well, the wisened old crone at the desk took one look at me and proclaimed, "Ah! I know why you're here! I have just what you want!"
"Look, you old bitch," I said, "You can't possibly have what I want. You're old and dusty. I'm not even sure you're a woman!"
"Not me!" she said, shaking her head, "In that room is," she paused and snapped her fingers to get my attention again. I had become distracted by the shiny reflection in my penny loafers again. I'm sure you all know how much effort it takes to make them really shiny, and how good it feels when you've got them just perfect, right? "In that room is a sexual entity so powerful that no man or woman can resist it!"
"Satan?" I asked.
"No," she said. "For four hundred dollars you may enter if you think you are sex enough to survive." I paid my four hundred dollars and entered.
The room was dim, and behind a silk veil I saw a shadow writhing. I was rock. Instant rock. I dashed forward, my pants barely containing my manly impulse. I tore down the screen and...
HELLO!
That's my boy right there.
Well, the wisened old crone at the desk took one look at me and proclaimed, "Ah! I know why you're here! I have just what you want!"
"Look, you old bitch," I said, "You can't possibly have what I want. You're old and dusty. I'm not even sure you're a woman!"
"Not me!" she said, shaking her head, "In that room is," she paused and snapped her fingers to get my attention again. I had become distracted by the shiny reflection in my penny loafers again. I'm sure you all know how much effort it takes to make them really shiny, and how good it feels when you've got them just perfect, right? "In that room is a sexual entity so powerful that no man or woman can resist it!"
"Satan?" I asked.
"No," she said. "For four hundred dollars you may enter if you think you are sex enough to survive." I paid my four hundred dollars and entered.
The room was dim, and behind a silk veil I saw a shadow writhing. I was rock. Instant rock. I dashed forward, my pants barely containing my manly impulse. I tore down the screen and...
HELLO!
That's my boy right there.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Rants, Raves, Buzzards, Et Al
BuzzadirdBilly
Just a quick note to my pals in blog land and then a rant. The note reads thusly: BuzzardBilly rocks. Go see his blog. Link is above.
The rant has nothing to do with him. I just think he's cool.
The rant is as follows and I quote (myself):
I am constantly shocked. Shocked to fucking hell. I am Dr. Robert J. Murk, people. I am the evil side of the mind that we all have. So I see what we do and who we lie to and how we get over on people to get by. Lately, I've noticed a disturbing trend. There are normal people like all of us, who try to pull shit to get by and always get caught, and then there are people like the other rest of us that pull shit to get by an never get caught.
Since I am a shadow self to the internet and I am the orphaned child of your very own psyche, I am torn between the two groups. Let me back up a bit and explain. Everyone lives in this little reality we share. We know it's a tough place. We all do what we have to just to survive. Many of the things we do are distastful and unpleasant to us, but necessary.
We lie. We steal. We break promises. We cheat. We undermine. We sabotage. We headhunt. We flip out. We damage people. We make passive aggresive remarks. We all fucking do it to some degree. We have to. We don't survive long without greasing the wheels of the world with a little bullshit and graft money. We do it.
But, some of us get caught and some don't. Or, better said, some of us PAY dearly for transgressions and some manage to avoid consequences. And there is a relationship between how much we pay and how much we are willing to do not to pay. Meaning, some people know when to duck and let the guy behind them get hit.
Here's the problem.
In a world of competent liars, the stakes are being raised to very high levels. The fall guy who bears the brunt of other people's indiscretions is getting a triple dose. So, when dude number one passes the buck to dude number two, dude number two passes the buck and adds his buck into the kitty and passes it to dude number three. It's like 'hot potato'. When the music stops, the buck has been passed and added to so many times that the poor sucker holding it is paying the tab for many many many previous mistakes made by other people.
This would be okay if every once in a while the final bill landed on a complete shithead. Unfortunately, not a signle complete shithead has been hit by karma in the last 50 years or so.
This is messy. Let me clean it up.
We, the good guys, have been content to allow the blame to fall on us for a long time now. The shitheads haven't had a thing in the world to worry about because we, the good guys, continue to be good guys and just take it.
Here's my idea. Let's take all our crap, every single good guy among us, take our crap and lay the blame squarely on the nearest shithead for a change, even if they really had nothing to do with our crap. Find a shithead, blame him or her for your crap, walk away. Blame the shithead, walk away.
They are going to do it to us anyways. Why not pre-empt the strike?
Signed.
Just a quick note to my pals in blog land and then a rant. The note reads thusly: BuzzardBilly rocks. Go see his blog. Link is above.
The rant has nothing to do with him. I just think he's cool.
The rant is as follows and I quote (myself):
I am constantly shocked. Shocked to fucking hell. I am Dr. Robert J. Murk, people. I am the evil side of the mind that we all have. So I see what we do and who we lie to and how we get over on people to get by. Lately, I've noticed a disturbing trend. There are normal people like all of us, who try to pull shit to get by and always get caught, and then there are people like the other rest of us that pull shit to get by an never get caught.
Since I am a shadow self to the internet and I am the orphaned child of your very own psyche, I am torn between the two groups. Let me back up a bit and explain. Everyone lives in this little reality we share. We know it's a tough place. We all do what we have to just to survive. Many of the things we do are distastful and unpleasant to us, but necessary.
We lie. We steal. We break promises. We cheat. We undermine. We sabotage. We headhunt. We flip out. We damage people. We make passive aggresive remarks. We all fucking do it to some degree. We have to. We don't survive long without greasing the wheels of the world with a little bullshit and graft money. We do it.
But, some of us get caught and some don't. Or, better said, some of us PAY dearly for transgressions and some manage to avoid consequences. And there is a relationship between how much we pay and how much we are willing to do not to pay. Meaning, some people know when to duck and let the guy behind them get hit.
Here's the problem.
In a world of competent liars, the stakes are being raised to very high levels. The fall guy who bears the brunt of other people's indiscretions is getting a triple dose. So, when dude number one passes the buck to dude number two, dude number two passes the buck and adds his buck into the kitty and passes it to dude number three. It's like 'hot potato'. When the music stops, the buck has been passed and added to so many times that the poor sucker holding it is paying the tab for many many many previous mistakes made by other people.
This would be okay if every once in a while the final bill landed on a complete shithead. Unfortunately, not a signle complete shithead has been hit by karma in the last 50 years or so.
This is messy. Let me clean it up.
We, the good guys, have been content to allow the blame to fall on us for a long time now. The shitheads haven't had a thing in the world to worry about because we, the good guys, continue to be good guys and just take it.
Here's my idea. Let's take all our crap, every single good guy among us, take our crap and lay the blame squarely on the nearest shithead for a change, even if they really had nothing to do with our crap. Find a shithead, blame him or her for your crap, walk away. Blame the shithead, walk away.
They are going to do it to us anyways. Why not pre-empt the strike?
Signed.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Cake Boss Murk
Lookit!
It's my famous Popcorn Chicken and Taquito Double Layer Cake!
In in other news, ESPN's football coverage has now been simplified for all viewers. The new Sunday Countdown Schedule is as follows:
11 a.m. - a brief discussion about Brett Favre.
11:01 - a question about Tom Brady's health and a comment about the Patriots losing to the Giants in the Superbowl.
11:02 - a discussion about Peyton Manning.
11:05 - coverage of the day's games, complete with references to Brett Favre, Paeyton Manning and and related Patriot's loss.
11:30 - Kenny Mayne does a silly story about Brett favre and Peyton Manning, with a reference to how Eli Manning beat the Patriots in the Superbowl, and so did Brett Favre.
11:45 - A history of Brett favre and Peyton Manning.
11:50 - results from the online poll, What would you pay to see? A Peyton manning Touchdown, a Brett Favre touchdown, or a Patriots loss?
12:00 Tom Jackson does a demonstration on how no one can blitz Brett favre or Payton Manning, complete with a montage of players who have sacked Tom Brady.
12:15 - Cris Carter blows 5 lines of coke off of Chris Berman's thigh.
12:25 - a discussion of how the Patriots have lost a few games this decade and which ones were the most fun to watch.
12:30 - Keyshon Jonson tries to kiss a boy.
12:45 - footage of Peyton Manning and Brett Favre warming up, mixed with footage of Brady being sacked and injured.
12:50 - Cris Carter puts his hands on Tom Jackson for the fiftieth time.
12:55 - Chris Berman ejaculates on a Brett Favre poster.
12:59 - Cris Carter drops his crack-pipe and makes another entertaining ethinic face.
I'm going to go eat my cake.
It's my famous Popcorn Chicken and Taquito Double Layer Cake!
In in other news, ESPN's football coverage has now been simplified for all viewers. The new Sunday Countdown Schedule is as follows:
11 a.m. - a brief discussion about Brett Favre.
11:01 - a question about Tom Brady's health and a comment about the Patriots losing to the Giants in the Superbowl.
11:02 - a discussion about Peyton Manning.
11:05 - coverage of the day's games, complete with references to Brett Favre, Paeyton Manning and and related Patriot's loss.
11:30 - Kenny Mayne does a silly story about Brett favre and Peyton Manning, with a reference to how Eli Manning beat the Patriots in the Superbowl, and so did Brett Favre.
11:45 - A history of Brett favre and Peyton Manning.
11:50 - results from the online poll, What would you pay to see? A Peyton manning Touchdown, a Brett Favre touchdown, or a Patriots loss?
12:00 Tom Jackson does a demonstration on how no one can blitz Brett favre or Payton Manning, complete with a montage of players who have sacked Tom Brady.
12:15 - Cris Carter blows 5 lines of coke off of Chris Berman's thigh.
12:25 - a discussion of how the Patriots have lost a few games this decade and which ones were the most fun to watch.
12:30 - Keyshon Jonson tries to kiss a boy.
12:45 - footage of Peyton Manning and Brett Favre warming up, mixed with footage of Brady being sacked and injured.
12:50 - Cris Carter puts his hands on Tom Jackson for the fiftieth time.
12:55 - Chris Berman ejaculates on a Brett Favre poster.
12:59 - Cris Carter drops his crack-pipe and makes another entertaining ethinic face.
I'm going to go eat my cake.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Da Werld Ceres
So.
Pedro Martinez will pitch in Game 2 of the Baseball World Series against the Yankees. In Yankee Stadium.
Now, I should hate Pedro Martinez, but I don't. He's a cocky little guy who smiles and somehow manages to keep pitching despite his lack of arm over the last 4 years. He shot his way out of Boston and made a complete pubic hair out of himself in the process. BUT.
Now he's pitching against the Yankees in a World Series. So.
Um.
Vote for Pedro.
Pedro Martinez will pitch in Game 2 of the Baseball World Series against the Yankees. In Yankee Stadium.
Now, I should hate Pedro Martinez, but I don't. He's a cocky little guy who smiles and somehow manages to keep pitching despite his lack of arm over the last 4 years. He shot his way out of Boston and made a complete pubic hair out of himself in the process. BUT.
Now he's pitching against the Yankees in a World Series. So.
Um.
Vote for Pedro.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
The Jose Cuervo Jackass
Tequilla tastes like gasoline. Good tequilla tastes like high test gasoline. The jackass on the Jose Cuervo commercials tastes like puke in my mouth. I don't drink and haven't for 3 years. And sure, I used to drink tequilla. Lots of it. But this guy...
He's got this tough guy Italian accent. He is, in his own little quaint way, acting like he's the pope of liquor town, complaining about how high priced tequilla is stupid and how awesome and cool he is for drinking bargain brand hooch. In his fancy Italian suit. With his black wingtips, which somehow always make it into the commercial even though he's sitting behind a table.
Seriously. This isn't his actual schpiel, but here's my imitation, in writing:
"Yo. Fancy tequilla is too fancy for my friggin' tastes. I'm just a regula guy who dresses wicked fancy and talks like dis. So, yous guys who drink dat fancy sissy crap are loooosas. I'm a man. I drink dis shit. So should you. Capice? Eh. Drink up, cockknobs! I'm smooth. Ladies? Yeah. Dig me, huh?"
I can hadnle Pepsi going to work on Coke's image to up sales. Pepsi is a soda and it's comparable. I can deal with auto insurance commercials calling other companies out by name. I can stomach fast food chains making fun of each other. Fine. But JOSE CUERVO???
Tequilla is all piss. If you drink urine, and complain that the fancy urine is all velvet ropes and red carpet and that the good old cheap urine is much cooler, you're nuts. You still drink urine. You can wear a nice suit. You can talk like a tough guy, but you still smell like pee pee.
So, here's the fuckyou to the tequilla guy. fuckyou.
He's got this tough guy Italian accent. He is, in his own little quaint way, acting like he's the pope of liquor town, complaining about how high priced tequilla is stupid and how awesome and cool he is for drinking bargain brand hooch. In his fancy Italian suit. With his black wingtips, which somehow always make it into the commercial even though he's sitting behind a table.
Seriously. This isn't his actual schpiel, but here's my imitation, in writing:
"Yo. Fancy tequilla is too fancy for my friggin' tastes. I'm just a regula guy who dresses wicked fancy and talks like dis. So, yous guys who drink dat fancy sissy crap are loooosas. I'm a man. I drink dis shit. So should you. Capice? Eh. Drink up, cockknobs! I'm smooth. Ladies? Yeah. Dig me, huh?"
I can hadnle Pepsi going to work on Coke's image to up sales. Pepsi is a soda and it's comparable. I can deal with auto insurance commercials calling other companies out by name. I can stomach fast food chains making fun of each other. Fine. But JOSE CUERVO???
Tequilla is all piss. If you drink urine, and complain that the fancy urine is all velvet ropes and red carpet and that the good old cheap urine is much cooler, you're nuts. You still drink urine. You can wear a nice suit. You can talk like a tough guy, but you still smell like pee pee.
So, here's the fuckyou to the tequilla guy. fuckyou.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Yo, Old People!
The Jitterbug phone looks like a toilet seat!
Some wireless telephony company thinks...
a. You will buy a phone named Jitterbug because you were a flapper in the roaring twenties.
b. You talk to toilet seats and like taking craps.
c. Need special buttons to dial a phone because you never used a phone with numbers before! DUH DUH DUH!!!
5. You're used to a soft phone, because those rock hard phones broke your cheekbone.
s. Old people hate contracts and would never sign one.
#. You call the operator for any situation you can't handle by your crippled demented self.
Please don't buy the Jitterbug, old people. If you can't figure out these new fangled whatsit phones... DON'T FUCKING BUY ONE! Use your home phone and get life alert.
JITTERBUG IS A CRAPPY FUCK PHONE BACKED BY A MARKETING PLOY OF ZIONIST DEVILS LOOKING TO STEAL YOUR JEWELRY AND EAT YOUR GRANDKIDS!!!
This has been a public service announcement from some guy who writes a dumbass blog.
Some wireless telephony company thinks...
a. You will buy a phone named Jitterbug because you were a flapper in the roaring twenties.
b. You talk to toilet seats and like taking craps.
c. Need special buttons to dial a phone because you never used a phone with numbers before! DUH DUH DUH!!!
5. You're used to a soft phone, because those rock hard phones broke your cheekbone.
s. Old people hate contracts and would never sign one.
#. You call the operator for any situation you can't handle by your crippled demented self.
Please don't buy the Jitterbug, old people. If you can't figure out these new fangled whatsit phones... DON'T FUCKING BUY ONE! Use your home phone and get life alert.
JITTERBUG IS A CRAPPY FUCK PHONE BACKED BY A MARKETING PLOY OF ZIONIST DEVILS LOOKING TO STEAL YOUR JEWELRY AND EAT YOUR GRANDKIDS!!!
This has been a public service announcement from some guy who writes a dumbass blog.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Monday, October 5, 2009
This Just In...
Tom Brady still has snakes.
Not to worry, New England.
I have big time bats!
Yes. I admit it. I suffer from bats, big time. I have had big time bats for years now. It's not as bad as having the AIDS or HEP-C (Oh yeah!!!!), but big time bats are a serious problem.
I go to work? Big time bats. I come home. Yup. Still got big time bats. I go swimming... you got it. Big time bats all over the pool, bothering all swimmers. It's not sexy. You ever try to make sweet passion to a lady while your big time bats flare up? It isn't ideal.
And I'm not alone. Many studs have big time bats. Bon Jovi. Ted Dansen. Fredrick Mercury. The list goes on for seconds. So, if you know someone with big time bast, quit laughing. Someday, it may or may not be you or someone you've seen or never heard of. Please. Stop staring.
Fank you.
Not to worry, New England.
I have big time bats!
Yes. I admit it. I suffer from bats, big time. I have had big time bats for years now. It's not as bad as having the AIDS or HEP-C (Oh yeah!!!!), but big time bats are a serious problem.
I go to work? Big time bats. I come home. Yup. Still got big time bats. I go swimming... you got it. Big time bats all over the pool, bothering all swimmers. It's not sexy. You ever try to make sweet passion to a lady while your big time bats flare up? It isn't ideal.
And I'm not alone. Many studs have big time bats. Bon Jovi. Ted Dansen. Fredrick Mercury. The list goes on for seconds. So, if you know someone with big time bast, quit laughing. Someday, it may or may not be you or someone you've seen or never heard of. Please. Stop staring.
Fank you.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
09-09-09
Repetative dates are gay and nothing to get all flushed in the tits about. So what, some freaking numbers line up. I don't care. Quit being so queer and OCD, people. Nothing happened on a date with freaky numbers...
Except 911, which is an emergency phone number and a day of a horrible emergency....
shit.
Except 911, which is an emergency phone number and a day of a horrible emergency....
shit.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Choate
Nobody knows what it means, but I have used that word in the past. Usually I use it to describe objects or things I am not familiar with or can't remember the name of or am just plain hung up on. Usage: "Damn. I'll need to pick up some more choates when I go to the store."
Truth is, I've kinda lifted the word from a street sign, and last night I saw a baseball player from Tampa with that last name. It's out there.
I pronounce it CHote, like oat with an emphasis on the CH. It's a goad word because you can spit it out in venom or just kinda drawl it and it sounds cool. Like, "Hey man, pass me the choates." or "You fucking... CHoate!"
Now, some of you who know me have never heard me use this expression. It's probably because it's rare that I fumble for a name or word. The only person around me enough to hear it is Mrs. Dr. Murk and she detests verbal communication, preferring knives and poison to make a point. BUT, I think I might add this to my regular working vocabulary (sparing those of you who rarely see me, of course, and my loyal dice rolling friends).
You might want to try this word out for yourself. It's fun, easy and has no meaning, therefor is not poluted by our post Obama American jibber jabber.
Good day.
Truth is, I've kinda lifted the word from a street sign, and last night I saw a baseball player from Tampa with that last name. It's out there.
I pronounce it CHote, like oat with an emphasis on the CH. It's a goad word because you can spit it out in venom or just kinda drawl it and it sounds cool. Like, "Hey man, pass me the choates." or "You fucking... CHoate!"
Now, some of you who know me have never heard me use this expression. It's probably because it's rare that I fumble for a name or word. The only person around me enough to hear it is Mrs. Dr. Murk and she detests verbal communication, preferring knives and poison to make a point. BUT, I think I might add this to my regular working vocabulary (sparing those of you who rarely see me, of course, and my loyal dice rolling friends).
You might want to try this word out for yourself. It's fun, easy and has no meaning, therefor is not poluted by our post Obama American jibber jabber.
Good day.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Miracle Whip Will Not Tone It Down
You heard me! Miracle Whip is its own crazy ass blend of spices and shit and who the fuck are you to tell Miracle Whip what to do? Miracle Whip will not tone it down. So step the fuck off!
Can you tell the new Miracle Whip commercial got me hyped? You bet your clit, fucktoad. I want to dip my dick in a Miracle Whip filled condom and go to town! Oh, that commercial has me amped like a meth kid playing with a car battery. Jesus Christ, I want some Miracle Whip right now...
I've got this great idea for a Miracle Whip commercial as a follow up to the whole 'we won't tone it down' ad campaign.
A woman sits eating a sandwich. A guy comes over and asks her what she's got on her sandwich. Then, two kids in trench coats pop out and shoot her in the face with a gun. Then the guy eats the sanwich. "Miracle Whip will shoot you in the fucking mouth." Then a quick shot of someone cutting a chicken's head off.
We'll show them, Miracle Whip. They'll regret making fun of us!
I have to go. Kicked off the computer again. (will not tone it down)
Can you tell the new Miracle Whip commercial got me hyped? You bet your clit, fucktoad. I want to dip my dick in a Miracle Whip filled condom and go to town! Oh, that commercial has me amped like a meth kid playing with a car battery. Jesus Christ, I want some Miracle Whip right now...
I've got this great idea for a Miracle Whip commercial as a follow up to the whole 'we won't tone it down' ad campaign.
A woman sits eating a sandwich. A guy comes over and asks her what she's got on her sandwich. Then, two kids in trench coats pop out and shoot her in the face with a gun. Then the guy eats the sanwich. "Miracle Whip will shoot you in the fucking mouth." Then a quick shot of someone cutting a chicken's head off.
We'll show them, Miracle Whip. They'll regret making fun of us!
I have to go. Kicked off the computer again. (will not tone it down)
Monday, August 24, 2009
The Little League World Series Is Gay!
Okay, not gay as in gay like a fashion show, but gay as in retarded. Okay, not as retarded as those kids with the helmets, but black.
Let me start again.
The COVERAGE of the Little League World Series is gay. In the dog days of summer, there isn't much out there to cover, but give me a fuck slapping break! Kids play little league baseball across America and that's fine. I DON'T NEED TO KNOW ABOUT IT OR WATCH IT!
I could see if it was buried on the alt sports channels or like a 2 second blurb on the local news, but it's everywhere! It was on CNN! WHY??? I mean, Christ, it's like watching a carosel ride or something. What's next? Are we going to watch some douchebag kid making model airplanes? Fuck!
And look, I was a young boy once and yeah ya ya ya and that's great and stuff. But kids that age are fucking lame! I don't need to watch some toe headed inbred hick brat from Georgia cry because he made an error. Boys that age play like female softball players and they bleed like mentruating bitches and sleep with dollies.
It's NOT watchable. I'd rather go get beat up ay a pool hall in Cuba than watch this crap. ENOUGH. It's almost as bad as watching some dude's college wiffle ball game on YouTube...
Don't believe me?
Let me start again.
The COVERAGE of the Little League World Series is gay. In the dog days of summer, there isn't much out there to cover, but give me a fuck slapping break! Kids play little league baseball across America and that's fine. I DON'T NEED TO KNOW ABOUT IT OR WATCH IT!
I could see if it was buried on the alt sports channels or like a 2 second blurb on the local news, but it's everywhere! It was on CNN! WHY??? I mean, Christ, it's like watching a carosel ride or something. What's next? Are we going to watch some douchebag kid making model airplanes? Fuck!
And look, I was a young boy once and yeah ya ya ya and that's great and stuff. But kids that age are fucking lame! I don't need to watch some toe headed inbred hick brat from Georgia cry because he made an error. Boys that age play like female softball players and they bleed like mentruating bitches and sleep with dollies.
It's NOT watchable. I'd rather go get beat up ay a pool hall in Cuba than watch this crap. ENOUGH. It's almost as bad as watching some dude's college wiffle ball game on YouTube...
Don't believe me?
Monday, August 17, 2009
Archibald
Poor Archibald. He tried to find his missing nephew in Kingsport MA and was DRIVEN INSANE!!!
This video is for him:
This video is for him:
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Dungeon Ecology 101
And so begins our fair journey into the land of fantasy, for an exploration of the concept of dungeons and their workings. In order to understand these underworlds, we must first start with the basics.
What is a dungeon and why would we care?
A dungeon is a generic term used to describe any dangerous enclosure. In our real world, there are many places that fit this description. Unfortunately, they are not true dungeons. You see, a true dungeon not only has danger, but a reward usually in the form of gold pieces, treasure, gems, jewelry and magic items. Why else would an adventurer go in? In our world, perhaps the closest thing we have to adventurers and treasure is archaeologists and their digs. Not quite as exciting as a paladin in field plate wielding a holy avenger.
So, why should we care?
If you like the real world of desks and paperwork, you shouldn't care. If you hate this world and like to make up a silly world of halflings, demons and elves to hide in, then you should care very much, because dungeons are the foundation of any fantasy world. I cite examples:
Moria - for those of you born with permanent stuck-uppity literary tastes (or worse, no desire to read), Moria is a giant dwarven stronghold, long abandoned and inhabited by foul things, in J.R.R. Tolkien's 'The Lord of the Rings' trilogy. Now, as far back a Beowulf there have been dungeons, but Moria is probably the prototype upon which many of the vast underground complexes found in today's fantasy gaming worlds are based.
The Labyrinth at Knossos - Greek Mythology. Lots of dungeons in there, but who can top a maze with a Minotaur in the middle!!! Come on! Plus Greek Mythology has some serious academic cred. Makes your gaming knowledge look believable and serious.
The Underworld - Found in many cultures, but for variety we can talk Egypt. Think of Isis venturing into the darkest of caves to find the entrance to the underdeep land of the dead to win back the thighbone of her lover, Osiris, to bring him back to life. The highlight of any campaign: resurrection!
The Grail Chapel - Depending on which Arthurian Legend you hold as canon, this is sometimes a cave, sometimes a hidden church, or sometimes and edifice in Petra that somehow leads into a series of traps with convenient word puzzles to save you. Whichever, there's no doubt that the Holy Grail was hidden in a dungeon and guarded by the living dead.
So, you see, dungeons leap out of legend and into the fantasy gaming world with irresistible force. Dungeons are the bread at the feast of gaming. Sure, you can have grand sweeping battles afield, or treks over mountain and under bough, but without dungeons, your players will have nothing to sop up the delicious dregs of your role playing soup.
Let's delve a bit deeper (pun completely intended, but with a very serious purpose) into the practical gaming definition of a dungeon. It has to be enclosed. That means, walls and a ceiling. No roof or walls, then it's ruins. Ruins are good, but they are usually just careless landmarks leading to proper dungeons. Can their be windows? Good question, sword wielder. Yes their can be windows. However, windows should always have some sort of devious purpose which makes the dungeon crawler feel better, but end up worse. Cursed windows serve this purpose well..
Dungeons need danger. What kind of danger? Good question, oathkeeper. Traps and enemies. Traps are any hidden device or structure that does something detrimental to the hero. Good traps do not kill, but merely take away prized possessions or vital stats or limbs. Traps that kill end adventures quick. Better to prolong the magic with traps that would, disarm, un-level, or harm the player. Enemies are hostile creatures, men, women, plants, spirits, mummies (or mummae, if you prefer), and other nasties that are alive or undead, but capable of fighting, eating and giving chase. All enemies should be hell bent on killing the players at all times. Some may use trickery, but players will see through the ruse and just attack enemies anyways, so most times it's better to just jump them right away. Example:
Parth Begallion is an 8th level fighter illusionist. he has seen many a dark day underneath the ground fighting the denizens of evil with his wand of fury and his great mace of cleaving. He encounters an old man sitting on a petrified stump in the middle of the stonewood, a local chain of dungeons filled with an underground forest. Parth sees the old man, who waves kindly to him and beckons him over.
"Okay, what is the old man wearing?" Parth's player asks. "Does he have a staff? What color are his eyes? I'm looking for scars. Do I sense any evil from him? I cast know mind, but I do it secretly so he doesn't know I'm casting a spell. Does he notice I'm casting a spell? Ah! He has spellcraft and must be a wizard! Why would an old wizard be sitting in the middle of the stoneforest waving nicely at me??? I attack."
You see, in the player's mind, anything alive in a dungeon is evil. That's true, because if it is alive... why would it choose to live in a dungeon? It has to be evil.
Okay, so after the enemies and traps are resolve, what be the reward? Come on. Dungeons aren't player magnets because they've got sexy legs. What's in it for them? Usually, magic items and treasure will suffice. In some high fallutin campaigns, characters have feelings and crap and so we can have the old 'vengeance' or 'quest for knowledge' or 'free the slaves' type reward, but it's not usually a good idea. Players, no matter how good their intentions upon entering a dungeon, will feel ripped off without treasure. But how much? Enough for repairs, lodging and a few slaves. Give one to three magic items per player, mostly potions and you're good.
And of course, always leave one item or clue on how to find the next dungeon.
Well, now that you now a bit about dungeons, we can move on to some of the more important questions concerning dungeon ecology. Questions like:
How did the dungeon get there?
Why did the enemies move in?
How do they survive there when players clearly could not?
What don't enemies fight each other, only players?
How did the treasure get there?
All in due time, my intrepid friends...
Until the next lesson, be at peace and rest in safety for the night. For no evil passes the doors of this Inn. I think.
Murk
What is a dungeon and why would we care?
A dungeon is a generic term used to describe any dangerous enclosure. In our real world, there are many places that fit this description. Unfortunately, they are not true dungeons. You see, a true dungeon not only has danger, but a reward usually in the form of gold pieces, treasure, gems, jewelry and magic items. Why else would an adventurer go in? In our world, perhaps the closest thing we have to adventurers and treasure is archaeologists and their digs. Not quite as exciting as a paladin in field plate wielding a holy avenger.
So, why should we care?
If you like the real world of desks and paperwork, you shouldn't care. If you hate this world and like to make up a silly world of halflings, demons and elves to hide in, then you should care very much, because dungeons are the foundation of any fantasy world. I cite examples:
Moria - for those of you born with permanent stuck-uppity literary tastes (or worse, no desire to read), Moria is a giant dwarven stronghold, long abandoned and inhabited by foul things, in J.R.R. Tolkien's 'The Lord of the Rings' trilogy. Now, as far back a Beowulf there have been dungeons, but Moria is probably the prototype upon which many of the vast underground complexes found in today's fantasy gaming worlds are based.
The Labyrinth at Knossos - Greek Mythology. Lots of dungeons in there, but who can top a maze with a Minotaur in the middle!!! Come on! Plus Greek Mythology has some serious academic cred. Makes your gaming knowledge look believable and serious.
The Underworld - Found in many cultures, but for variety we can talk Egypt. Think of Isis venturing into the darkest of caves to find the entrance to the underdeep land of the dead to win back the thighbone of her lover, Osiris, to bring him back to life. The highlight of any campaign: resurrection!
The Grail Chapel - Depending on which Arthurian Legend you hold as canon, this is sometimes a cave, sometimes a hidden church, or sometimes and edifice in Petra that somehow leads into a series of traps with convenient word puzzles to save you. Whichever, there's no doubt that the Holy Grail was hidden in a dungeon and guarded by the living dead.
So, you see, dungeons leap out of legend and into the fantasy gaming world with irresistible force. Dungeons are the bread at the feast of gaming. Sure, you can have grand sweeping battles afield, or treks over mountain and under bough, but without dungeons, your players will have nothing to sop up the delicious dregs of your role playing soup.
Let's delve a bit deeper (pun completely intended, but with a very serious purpose) into the practical gaming definition of a dungeon. It has to be enclosed. That means, walls and a ceiling. No roof or walls, then it's ruins. Ruins are good, but they are usually just careless landmarks leading to proper dungeons. Can their be windows? Good question, sword wielder. Yes their can be windows. However, windows should always have some sort of devious purpose which makes the dungeon crawler feel better, but end up worse. Cursed windows serve this purpose well..
Dungeons need danger. What kind of danger? Good question, oathkeeper. Traps and enemies. Traps are any hidden device or structure that does something detrimental to the hero. Good traps do not kill, but merely take away prized possessions or vital stats or limbs. Traps that kill end adventures quick. Better to prolong the magic with traps that would, disarm, un-level, or harm the player. Enemies are hostile creatures, men, women, plants, spirits, mummies (or mummae, if you prefer), and other nasties that are alive or undead, but capable of fighting, eating and giving chase. All enemies should be hell bent on killing the players at all times. Some may use trickery, but players will see through the ruse and just attack enemies anyways, so most times it's better to just jump them right away. Example:
Parth Begallion is an 8th level fighter illusionist. he has seen many a dark day underneath the ground fighting the denizens of evil with his wand of fury and his great mace of cleaving. He encounters an old man sitting on a petrified stump in the middle of the stonewood, a local chain of dungeons filled with an underground forest. Parth sees the old man, who waves kindly to him and beckons him over.
"Okay, what is the old man wearing?" Parth's player asks. "Does he have a staff? What color are his eyes? I'm looking for scars. Do I sense any evil from him? I cast know mind, but I do it secretly so he doesn't know I'm casting a spell. Does he notice I'm casting a spell? Ah! He has spellcraft and must be a wizard! Why would an old wizard be sitting in the middle of the stoneforest waving nicely at me??? I attack."
You see, in the player's mind, anything alive in a dungeon is evil. That's true, because if it is alive... why would it choose to live in a dungeon? It has to be evil.
Okay, so after the enemies and traps are resolve, what be the reward? Come on. Dungeons aren't player magnets because they've got sexy legs. What's in it for them? Usually, magic items and treasure will suffice. In some high fallutin campaigns, characters have feelings and crap and so we can have the old 'vengeance' or 'quest for knowledge' or 'free the slaves' type reward, but it's not usually a good idea. Players, no matter how good their intentions upon entering a dungeon, will feel ripped off without treasure. But how much? Enough for repairs, lodging and a few slaves. Give one to three magic items per player, mostly potions and you're good.
And of course, always leave one item or clue on how to find the next dungeon.
Well, now that you now a bit about dungeons, we can move on to some of the more important questions concerning dungeon ecology. Questions like:
How did the dungeon get there?
Why did the enemies move in?
How do they survive there when players clearly could not?
What don't enemies fight each other, only players?
How did the treasure get there?
All in due time, my intrepid friends...
Until the next lesson, be at peace and rest in safety for the night. For no evil passes the doors of this Inn. I think.
Murk
Thursday, August 6, 2009
The Wright Brothers, Space and The Germans
How did we get to the moon? On a balsa wood and paper kite. Back up.
A long time ago, people found out that stuff lighter than water floats. Then, people found out that stuff lighter than air flies. But but... birds aren't lighter than air! They fly! WHAT THE FUCK??? Oh... Air is a substance we can push on...
Yeah. Wind pushed us. If you shoot air out the end of a balloon, it flies off. Rockets. pressurized gas pushing on the earth and the air beneath... lifting...
The Wright Brothers got it. Make a large surface. Raise the air pressure beneath. It will lift heavy objects. From their we thought about space. But wait. There's no air in space. No problem, bro. See, the germans were sickos during WWII and didn't mind running crazy experiments on people. They made expensive pressure chambers and tested them on humans to see... well, what would happen. Also, they had rockets. Rockets went very high up into the air... to the edge of space.
But sooner or later, the smart people (scientists) in germany realized that the Nazis were going to kill almost everyone and so they left and went out into the US desert. First, they applied their huge brains to winning the big war. Then, they all went to NASA and the Air Force.
Next thing you know, we're in space.
Backstory:
The idea of going into space was contemplated by scientists for a very long time before we became technichally advanced enough to do so. Literally, our ability to manipulate had to catch up with our ability to think. The theories were there and ready to be tested as soon as the machinists could make the instruments precise enough to build the devices. Let's put it this way, the theory was ready around 1923. It took 40 odd years to get the devices to implement the theory.
The same is true of our technology today. We are living in a world designed 40 years ago. In 1969. The theory of 1969 is the reality of today. And in 1969 humans landed on the moon based on theories from 40 years before that.
Now, look at the theories scientists are working on today. Set your watch. And wait 40 years. You think we've got weird shit going onin 2009? Oh. Just wait.
By the way, you might live a lot longer than you think. Just ask the people from the 1920s that are still around...
A long time ago, people found out that stuff lighter than water floats. Then, people found out that stuff lighter than air flies. But but... birds aren't lighter than air! They fly! WHAT THE FUCK??? Oh... Air is a substance we can push on...
Yeah. Wind pushed us. If you shoot air out the end of a balloon, it flies off. Rockets. pressurized gas pushing on the earth and the air beneath... lifting...
The Wright Brothers got it. Make a large surface. Raise the air pressure beneath. It will lift heavy objects. From their we thought about space. But wait. There's no air in space. No problem, bro. See, the germans were sickos during WWII and didn't mind running crazy experiments on people. They made expensive pressure chambers and tested them on humans to see... well, what would happen. Also, they had rockets. Rockets went very high up into the air... to the edge of space.
But sooner or later, the smart people (scientists) in germany realized that the Nazis were going to kill almost everyone and so they left and went out into the US desert. First, they applied their huge brains to winning the big war. Then, they all went to NASA and the Air Force.
Next thing you know, we're in space.
Backstory:
The idea of going into space was contemplated by scientists for a very long time before we became technichally advanced enough to do so. Literally, our ability to manipulate had to catch up with our ability to think. The theories were there and ready to be tested as soon as the machinists could make the instruments precise enough to build the devices. Let's put it this way, the theory was ready around 1923. It took 40 odd years to get the devices to implement the theory.
The same is true of our technology today. We are living in a world designed 40 years ago. In 1969. The theory of 1969 is the reality of today. And in 1969 humans landed on the moon based on theories from 40 years before that.
Now, look at the theories scientists are working on today. Set your watch. And wait 40 years. You think we've got weird shit going onin 2009? Oh. Just wait.
By the way, you might live a lot longer than you think. Just ask the people from the 1920s that are still around...
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Demons
People don't believe in demons and rightly so. There are no other planar entities that come to our planet to make with the mischief on humankind. However, let's not dump on the old traditions wholesale. There's always a shred of truth to any old superstition or practice.
People become engrossed in thinking. They crave ideas and look to find new ones, new solutions, new ways of coping with life. Eventually, some ideas become so ingrained that they take over the normal behavior patterns of people. Now, speculation about mental illness being the cause of 'demons' is nothing new. That's not what I'm suggesting.
The world was thought to be positively infested by spirits and demons before the age of reasons. everything had a sort of spirit or soul to it. people were adamant about that. We tend to toss out these old ideas as stupidity. No no. They might not be true, but the ideas didn't come out of nowhere. People used spirits to explain a heck of a lot of things. Foul moods, ilnesses, bad weather, you name it.
But it all came back to human perception. The world itself happens of its own volition. We watch it and assign meaning. Why did we make demons? To explain bad events or really weird behavior. Why demons? It's human nature to see evil, hear evil, speak evil and do evil. But why admit that? So, we take the human traits we despise, make them stronger, supernatural, then we layer them over our world.
Every bad idea, every crime, every disgusting thought lurches forth to our minds and then we roll them into a hideous creature with other worldly power and then we have the demon.
We know they're not real.
Fine.
But the events and behaviors we attributed to demons are still there.
So.
There's no supernatural power that's causing these behaviors and events, but they still happen...
I think I like blaming the demon better than the alternative.
People become engrossed in thinking. They crave ideas and look to find new ones, new solutions, new ways of coping with life. Eventually, some ideas become so ingrained that they take over the normal behavior patterns of people. Now, speculation about mental illness being the cause of 'demons' is nothing new. That's not what I'm suggesting.
The world was thought to be positively infested by spirits and demons before the age of reasons. everything had a sort of spirit or soul to it. people were adamant about that. We tend to toss out these old ideas as stupidity. No no. They might not be true, but the ideas didn't come out of nowhere. People used spirits to explain a heck of a lot of things. Foul moods, ilnesses, bad weather, you name it.
But it all came back to human perception. The world itself happens of its own volition. We watch it and assign meaning. Why did we make demons? To explain bad events or really weird behavior. Why demons? It's human nature to see evil, hear evil, speak evil and do evil. But why admit that? So, we take the human traits we despise, make them stronger, supernatural, then we layer them over our world.
Every bad idea, every crime, every disgusting thought lurches forth to our minds and then we roll them into a hideous creature with other worldly power and then we have the demon.
We know they're not real.
Fine.
But the events and behaviors we attributed to demons are still there.
So.
There's no supernatural power that's causing these behaviors and events, but they still happen...
I think I like blaming the demon better than the alternative.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Begin Transmission...
I sat outside today on a plastic lawn chair. I had an iced coffee near me and a smoke. I looked at the sky and remembered. That's what I wanted all along. A view of the blue summer sky, a cool drink, and a moment to myself where I just stopped and looked at the clouds. Something happened.
I have a chair on a piece of land I own and I sat in it looked up at the sky and realized....
I could take five minutes of every day and make it mine. I saw this!
It was just enough.
me
Yes, but have you seen THIS?
Okay, some people find the blue sky thrilling, some find a thrill in a virtual worldracing o my god thatissofuckingawesomeHOWTHETHXSOUNDJUSTSHOOKMYFUCKINGHOUSEWHEN IPLAYEDTHATTRAILER!!!!!!
I have a chair on a piece of land I own and I sat in it looked up at the sky and realized....
I could take five minutes of every day and make it mine. I saw this!
It was just enough.
me
Yes, but have you seen THIS?
Okay, some people find the blue sky thrilling, some find a thrill in a virtual worldracing o my god thatissofuckingawesomeHOWTHETHXSOUNDJUSTSHOOKMYFUCKINGHOUSEWHEN IPLAYEDTHATTRAILER!!!!!!
Friday, July 24, 2009
Harvard v. Cambridge
I don't have all the facts, and I don't care to. Henry Louis Gates takes on the LAW and I like it! Here's my take:
A professor at Harvard breaks into his own house. Someone calls the police. They ask him to identify himself and step outside. he refuses and lectures them about being a black man in America. Awesome.
I've broken into my own house hundreds of times. Sometimes I lock myself out. Sometimes it's to test my security. Sometimes for fun and sometimes for insurance fraud. No fucking badge is going to come and bust my nuts in my own home, especially if I magically become black overnight.
You all know I think racial bullshit is overplayed and I don't give a damn what happened to you because of your ethnicity and it's no excuse for any behavior outside of the bounds of the law. BUT, this guy was within his rights. Did he have to pull an attitude? No. But God bless the little bastard for doing it.
I could care less about his rights as a black man ( a wealthy black man at that). I care about his rights as a citizen. I think he played the race card and got nasty on purpose so they would arrest him and he could get some face on the TV, and that's a little weak, but I'd give some sass to a Blue Boy if he jumped me in my own crib.
Now, if he were speeding or beating his wife or boyfriend or a dog, no. That's when you get polite. Nice officer. Always good to poor Murk! Niiiiice master! But... MY HOUSE! Show a warrant, or make an arrest if you think I don't belong there and I'll see you in court, Jiffy Cop!
In fairness, Police have a rough job, even in Cambridge. They deserve respect. But so do we. You want to be a hardass and take someone downtown for locking themselves out of their house and mouthing off, do it. Go ahead. But I think every citizen has the right to kick people out of their house, even in a rude manner, even a Police Officer, if they haven't broken the law.
For the record, I am not a Democrat. I dislike liberal whining. But I believe in freedom. Especially in our own homes.
The last word: Obama should stay the fuck out of it. A simple "I don't have enough information to comment on that", especially when he needed to talk health care, would have been better. That and he needs to learn the difference between the articles 'a' and 'an', and the rules for when to use which one.
Murk signing off.
A professor at Harvard breaks into his own house. Someone calls the police. They ask him to identify himself and step outside. he refuses and lectures them about being a black man in America. Awesome.
I've broken into my own house hundreds of times. Sometimes I lock myself out. Sometimes it's to test my security. Sometimes for fun and sometimes for insurance fraud. No fucking badge is going to come and bust my nuts in my own home, especially if I magically become black overnight.
You all know I think racial bullshit is overplayed and I don't give a damn what happened to you because of your ethnicity and it's no excuse for any behavior outside of the bounds of the law. BUT, this guy was within his rights. Did he have to pull an attitude? No. But God bless the little bastard for doing it.
I could care less about his rights as a black man ( a wealthy black man at that). I care about his rights as a citizen. I think he played the race card and got nasty on purpose so they would arrest him and he could get some face on the TV, and that's a little weak, but I'd give some sass to a Blue Boy if he jumped me in my own crib.
Now, if he were speeding or beating his wife or boyfriend or a dog, no. That's when you get polite. Nice officer. Always good to poor Murk! Niiiiice master! But... MY HOUSE! Show a warrant, or make an arrest if you think I don't belong there and I'll see you in court, Jiffy Cop!
In fairness, Police have a rough job, even in Cambridge. They deserve respect. But so do we. You want to be a hardass and take someone downtown for locking themselves out of their house and mouthing off, do it. Go ahead. But I think every citizen has the right to kick people out of their house, even in a rude manner, even a Police Officer, if they haven't broken the law.
For the record, I am not a Democrat. I dislike liberal whining. But I believe in freedom. Especially in our own homes.
The last word: Obama should stay the fuck out of it. A simple "I don't have enough information to comment on that", especially when he needed to talk health care, would have been better. That and he needs to learn the difference between the articles 'a' and 'an', and the rules for when to use which one.
Murk signing off.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
I Wonder...
Naw. I don't wonder. I worry. Naw, too soft a phrase. I pity the human race and myself and State Police Jesus and Uncle Freddy.
We are grunting shit factories with bad attitudes. There is nothing redeeming or noble about being a human being. We're fucking animals. There's no magic or mystery. We're diseased eat/sleep/fuck machines just like the rest of nature only we try to hide it and that makes us EVIL as all fuckout.
Worse, we are self aware. Too self aware. Now granted, it seems that the 'lower life forms' have little regard for their own kind as far as courtesy or sharing except out of a genetic drive to propagate the species, but we humans are aware of ourselves, that there are others that share our horrible condition (humanity), and we make fully conscious choices to ignore, exploit and worsen this condition for others.
Even the few of us that try, on occasion to provide relief, find the conditioning of life too much to resist. We give, others take, and we get little back so we stop giving. Or worse, we become incapable of seeing the open giving of others and even learn to resent help. In short, one has to be willing to give, overlook slights, acknowledge the help of others without resent, be conscious of when we refuse to give and try to make amends, all for the general good only to have the majority of people overlook what we do, and sometimes even abuse our generosity.
And when we can't give and others need us, but we're in a bind and find ourselves incapable of helping others, and those that need us most forget all the times we've been there for them and helped out and they've overlooked their own lack of compassion towards us and turn bitter and flippant towards us, we have to move on and remind ourselves that maybe what they're going through is worse than what we are. You never know.
And then there are times when we are forced to ask for help and greeted with anger. Maybe people hate weakness or maybe they are just too selfish and can't bother to be slightly inconvenienced. And not just strangers we ask for help, but friends.
Now this is Dr. Murk taking to you, so those of you that have helped me, past present and future can exempt yourself from my angst. Most of you know because I've thanked you or will thank you when I get to it. If you're not sure which category you fall in, feel free to pick a category for yourself because you're probably okay. Most of those who I'm cranked at don't even read this. So why bother?
Hey, fuck all I just think it needs to be said on my behalf, my wife's behalf, my family and a few close friends in tough times right now too. I hear so many shitty stories about how people I love are being treated. feel free to sign this with a comment and stand up for yourself if you agree.
If you disagree, hey that's you and you're lucky and I hope it never comes back on you like it's come back on me.
/end rant
We are grunting shit factories with bad attitudes. There is nothing redeeming or noble about being a human being. We're fucking animals. There's no magic or mystery. We're diseased eat/sleep/fuck machines just like the rest of nature only we try to hide it and that makes us EVIL as all fuckout.
Worse, we are self aware. Too self aware. Now granted, it seems that the 'lower life forms' have little regard for their own kind as far as courtesy or sharing except out of a genetic drive to propagate the species, but we humans are aware of ourselves, that there are others that share our horrible condition (humanity), and we make fully conscious choices to ignore, exploit and worsen this condition for others.
Even the few of us that try, on occasion to provide relief, find the conditioning of life too much to resist. We give, others take, and we get little back so we stop giving. Or worse, we become incapable of seeing the open giving of others and even learn to resent help. In short, one has to be willing to give, overlook slights, acknowledge the help of others without resent, be conscious of when we refuse to give and try to make amends, all for the general good only to have the majority of people overlook what we do, and sometimes even abuse our generosity.
And when we can't give and others need us, but we're in a bind and find ourselves incapable of helping others, and those that need us most forget all the times we've been there for them and helped out and they've overlooked their own lack of compassion towards us and turn bitter and flippant towards us, we have to move on and remind ourselves that maybe what they're going through is worse than what we are. You never know.
And then there are times when we are forced to ask for help and greeted with anger. Maybe people hate weakness or maybe they are just too selfish and can't bother to be slightly inconvenienced. And not just strangers we ask for help, but friends.
Now this is Dr. Murk taking to you, so those of you that have helped me, past present and future can exempt yourself from my angst. Most of you know because I've thanked you or will thank you when I get to it. If you're not sure which category you fall in, feel free to pick a category for yourself because you're probably okay. Most of those who I'm cranked at don't even read this. So why bother?
Hey, fuck all I just think it needs to be said on my behalf, my wife's behalf, my family and a few close friends in tough times right now too. I hear so many shitty stories about how people I love are being treated. feel free to sign this with a comment and stand up for yourself if you agree.
If you disagree, hey that's you and you're lucky and I hope it never comes back on you like it's come back on me.
/end rant
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
You Wanted Mor Cees????
So, the Chicago Bulls (the team of Joey Polanski) waive forward Tim Thomas on my father's birthday, July 14th. They bought out his $6.8 million dollar contract because due to some identity issues, the only played in 18 games last year. Well, before that he was averaging about 11 points a game and rebounds pretty well and was, I remember, a good shot blocker.
The Celtics, having aquired Rasheed Wallace and more recently Marquise Daniels, still have (I believe) one veteran minimum to hand out. Thomas has already been paid in his buyout. He's a six eleven power forward who plays with energy and a chip on his shoulder. Why the hell not? Come on over Timmy!
Here's the starting lineup:
Rondo
Allen
Pierce
Garnett
Perkins
Then off the bench
some point guard
Eddie House
Maquise Daniels
Glen 'Big Baby' Davis
Rasheed Wallace
Then, in come Tim Thomas to fuck with some people's heads, grab some garbage boards and score like 6 buckets.
That's an 11 man rotation (something Doc Rivers loves and won a championship with, EVEN in the playoff playing 10 guys a game sometimes), and their all scorers. Throw in Bill Walker as your twelve, send Gabe Pruit to Atlanta and get that project kid they drafted (whatever his waste of a name was) down to the D leaugue and now you've got a squad.
Don't enjoy Celtics talk? Well, here's something for you non sports fans.
Suck my dick.
The Celtics, having aquired Rasheed Wallace and more recently Marquise Daniels, still have (I believe) one veteran minimum to hand out. Thomas has already been paid in his buyout. He's a six eleven power forward who plays with energy and a chip on his shoulder. Why the hell not? Come on over Timmy!
Here's the starting lineup:
Rondo
Allen
Pierce
Garnett
Perkins
Then off the bench
some point guard
Eddie House
Maquise Daniels
Glen 'Big Baby' Davis
Rasheed Wallace
Then, in come Tim Thomas to fuck with some people's heads, grab some garbage boards and score like 6 buckets.
That's an 11 man rotation (something Doc Rivers loves and won a championship with, EVEN in the playoff playing 10 guys a game sometimes), and their all scorers. Throw in Bill Walker as your twelve, send Gabe Pruit to Atlanta and get that project kid they drafted (whatever his waste of a name was) down to the D leaugue and now you've got a squad.
Don't enjoy Celtics talk? Well, here's something for you non sports fans.
Suck my dick.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Malach's Hot Juicy Beef
So, Malach the Merciless made prime rib. Now, I am never one to doubt the cooking ability of the illustrious Bistro King Malach, but prome rib is easy to fuck up, and it goes in grade. I've had beef too dry, not cooked enough, over seasoned, just off, gamey, squished, watered down and just crap bland. Then, sometimes you get a decent cut, well cooked, nicely seasoned, a good treat.
AND THEN, there's Malach's Prime Rib. Boring back story: there used to be a place called Costa's Family Restaurant that served prime rib by the ton and it was the best the best the best ever hands down no substitutes and no immitations accepted. As far as I recall, Malach has attempted Prime Rib maybe onve or twice and I did not sample it. So, this was a bit of what the chess playing world would be a novelty.
It came into the house (yes, he delivered it to a party for some really old dude we know called 'Dad' or something), and he unveiled it. I try never to make snap jusdements based solely on looks, or aroma or even looks and aroma... but man o man... like the wise woman at the front of the chow line said, we were on it like vultures.
Look. I barely eat now. I've become one of those min calorie people. Maybe 1000 on a really low day because it makes me feel better than pigging out, but when I get a hankering for something, I dive in.
I took the biggest slice, and half of Mrs. Dr. Murk's slice when she was too full to continue. This was beef folks. Pure and simple. Prime Rib of Beef, the King's Request meal and it was beyond perfect. It made Costa's taste like old shoe leather dipped in shit.
My specialty is staight fire BBQ wings and people rave over them. This was one notch UP from my wings. Not down, UP. My wife can outcook me in most areas, but my wings kick her ass up and down the block with a size 15 lead boot, and this Prime Rib beat my wings. I will even introduce myself to people in public and admit this because the beef was so savory I'm ashamed that my dirty mouth, my unworthy filth hole even ate it. I degraded the meat by even thinking I was worthy to taste it.
Normally I'm a cuss and will trash anyone and anything in my way, but I can't. I can't even pretend to be slightly unimpressed. Awesome. Much like me, Awesome. I can now rest for the night knowing God has not abandoned us.
AND THEN, there's Malach's Prime Rib. Boring back story: there used to be a place called Costa's Family Restaurant that served prime rib by the ton and it was the best the best the best ever hands down no substitutes and no immitations accepted. As far as I recall, Malach has attempted Prime Rib maybe onve or twice and I did not sample it. So, this was a bit of what the chess playing world would be a novelty.
It came into the house (yes, he delivered it to a party for some really old dude we know called 'Dad' or something), and he unveiled it. I try never to make snap jusdements based solely on looks, or aroma or even looks and aroma... but man o man... like the wise woman at the front of the chow line said, we were on it like vultures.
Look. I barely eat now. I've become one of those min calorie people. Maybe 1000 on a really low day because it makes me feel better than pigging out, but when I get a hankering for something, I dive in.
I took the biggest slice, and half of Mrs. Dr. Murk's slice when she was too full to continue. This was beef folks. Pure and simple. Prime Rib of Beef, the King's Request meal and it was beyond perfect. It made Costa's taste like old shoe leather dipped in shit.
My specialty is staight fire BBQ wings and people rave over them. This was one notch UP from my wings. Not down, UP. My wife can outcook me in most areas, but my wings kick her ass up and down the block with a size 15 lead boot, and this Prime Rib beat my wings. I will even introduce myself to people in public and admit this because the beef was so savory I'm ashamed that my dirty mouth, my unworthy filth hole even ate it. I degraded the meat by even thinking I was worthy to taste it.
Normally I'm a cuss and will trash anyone and anything in my way, but I can't. I can't even pretend to be slightly unimpressed. Awesome. Much like me, Awesome. I can now rest for the night knowing God has not abandoned us.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Retail Terrorists
The grocery store is filled with pirates and IEDs. I went to buy myself some bread and shit, and then this dude pops out with a price gun and retagged everything in the bread aisle and in my cart.
Okay, it wasn't like that, but food is damn expensive. Ever since people forgot how to grow their own, we've been at the mercy of greedy Armenian Grocers. It's been even worse over the last five years. The four dollar a gallon gas hike gave everyone from Tom Jones to Freddy Fingers an excuse to raise prices by ten to twenty percent.
My bill at the Stop and Shop actually said "Ha ha, fuck you!" at the bottom. Actually it said Thank You, but I said Fuck You to the cashier, the butcher, the deli hag, some retarded kid and the elderly war veteran. I also ran over a cat on my way home. It was in someone's yard. I had to do some NASCAR style shit to get it too.
It's alright though. I used some lady's credit card and signed it George Orwell just to see if the cashier was paying attention. And, I touched like eight of the loaves of bread. I'm not telling which ones.
Okay, it wasn't like that, but food is damn expensive. Ever since people forgot how to grow their own, we've been at the mercy of greedy Armenian Grocers. It's been even worse over the last five years. The four dollar a gallon gas hike gave everyone from Tom Jones to Freddy Fingers an excuse to raise prices by ten to twenty percent.
My bill at the Stop and Shop actually said "Ha ha, fuck you!" at the bottom. Actually it said Thank You, but I said Fuck You to the cashier, the butcher, the deli hag, some retarded kid and the elderly war veteran. I also ran over a cat on my way home. It was in someone's yard. I had to do some NASCAR style shit to get it too.
It's alright though. I used some lady's credit card and signed it George Orwell just to see if the cashier was paying attention. And, I touched like eight of the loaves of bread. I'm not telling which ones.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Hulu Will Break Your Neck
So, like has Hulu caught on yet? No. Why? I don't know. Let's see...
Its search function is clumsy like a fat fisted hooker. The clips are small, short and choppy. You have to sign up for any of the good stuff and you have to pay. At least at YouTube I don't have to give an email or any money to watch crappy web based junk.
But but but... mister Murk, Hulu is on TV and has stuff that's like copywriteded or trademurked or something or that... fuck off.
It's not only the bad execution, but the bad concept. I ride my internet bareback so I can get all interactive and shit. I'm not here to watch TV!! That's what the TV is for! Some day, some brilliant sociopath will come along and merge TV and web based stuff and then maybe maybe maybe Hulu goes somewhere... maybe.
But, right now, I'd rather journey to sites that have unique internet based content, not rehashed TV crap on the internet. There's enough rehashed crap on TV. And with On Demand and DRVs, we get the shows... we want... when... we want... nevermind. Why do I bother?
Here's the TL;DR version: Hulu, GO FUCK YOURSELF! It sucks.
And now, I'd like to go back to making fun of minorities.
Its search function is clumsy like a fat fisted hooker. The clips are small, short and choppy. You have to sign up for any of the good stuff and you have to pay. At least at YouTube I don't have to give an email or any money to watch crappy web based junk.
But but but... mister Murk, Hulu is on TV and has stuff that's like copywriteded or trademurked or something or that... fuck off.
It's not only the bad execution, but the bad concept. I ride my internet bareback so I can get all interactive and shit. I'm not here to watch TV!! That's what the TV is for! Some day, some brilliant sociopath will come along and merge TV and web based stuff and then maybe maybe maybe Hulu goes somewhere... maybe.
But, right now, I'd rather journey to sites that have unique internet based content, not rehashed TV crap on the internet. There's enough rehashed crap on TV. And with On Demand and DRVs, we get the shows... we want... when... we want... nevermind. Why do I bother?
Here's the TL;DR version: Hulu, GO FUCK YOURSELF! It sucks.
And now, I'd like to go back to making fun of minorities.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Monday, July 6, 2009
Unbearable Sports Talk
So, it's July 6th, 2009 and the Boston Celtics have just aquired Rasheed Wallace. I need to tell you a few things about Sheed.
1. He's an asshole. I've watched Sheed since his early days in Portland. Actually, I've always been mildly in love with the Portland Trailblazers. So, I've watched his games. He talks too much. He's always running his yap. He talks to players, fans, refs, coaches... he never stops.
2. He's got post and range. He can make moves close to the basket. He can shoot the three. He's one of the best three point shooting 6 foot 11 inch guys to ever play the game. He's got some big time offensive skills.
3. He's a good to great defender, especially off the ball. You pair him with KG and the paint is closed. Closed, people! He eats up about three feet of shooting space on either side of the key.
4. He's an all or nothing. When he's on, the Celtics will be unstoppable. When he's off, they had better not let him within 30 feet of the ball because he will grab it, shoot it, miss it the entire night. I've seen him go cold for weeks and still shoot bad shots over and over and over. He takes really bad shots, but he makes enough of them to give you the thought that maybe that's a good thing.
The quick and dirty is... Celtics fans, he's Antoine Walker with height and a better shot. He's more athletic too. That's the bad news. The good news is the Celtics don't need him to be on every night. He's a fifth option at best. Maybe a sixth. If Sheedy can play sixth man, come off the bench after Kendrick Perkins pick up his 5th foul in the first quarter, he's a huge huge plus.
However, if he becomes a staple of the starting lineup and plays more than 25 minutes a night, this might backfire. There's not enough ball for Pierce, Allen and Rondo, nevermind getting Sheedy 20 touches a night.
Mark the words of the Murk. If Glen Davis gets a higher offer (remeber, he's a restricted free agent and the Celtics own him if they match any offer by other teams) and goes somewhere else, this will be bad. How bad? Well, not as bad as having NO ONE to spell Perkins and KG, but much less than ideal.
Why?
Sheed is old. He can't carry the minutes but he's stubborn and just good enough to get his number called to do so. And all this talk about veterans in the locker room and Doc Rivers having his respect is nice, if we're writing a movie script, but NO ONE is changing Sheed. Remember, this is the guy they put the manditory suspension for too many technicals in a season for. And this is not a man trying to restart his career or rebuild his image. This is an aging guy trying to trade time for a few more rings. He doesn't need a new contract after this. He will not be on his best behavior.
Do I like the move?
Oh fuck yes I do. I love Rasheed Wallace. He reminds me of me.
1. He's an asshole. I've watched Sheed since his early days in Portland. Actually, I've always been mildly in love with the Portland Trailblazers. So, I've watched his games. He talks too much. He's always running his yap. He talks to players, fans, refs, coaches... he never stops.
2. He's got post and range. He can make moves close to the basket. He can shoot the three. He's one of the best three point shooting 6 foot 11 inch guys to ever play the game. He's got some big time offensive skills.
3. He's a good to great defender, especially off the ball. You pair him with KG and the paint is closed. Closed, people! He eats up about three feet of shooting space on either side of the key.
4. He's an all or nothing. When he's on, the Celtics will be unstoppable. When he's off, they had better not let him within 30 feet of the ball because he will grab it, shoot it, miss it the entire night. I've seen him go cold for weeks and still shoot bad shots over and over and over. He takes really bad shots, but he makes enough of them to give you the thought that maybe that's a good thing.
The quick and dirty is... Celtics fans, he's Antoine Walker with height and a better shot. He's more athletic too. That's the bad news. The good news is the Celtics don't need him to be on every night. He's a fifth option at best. Maybe a sixth. If Sheedy can play sixth man, come off the bench after Kendrick Perkins pick up his 5th foul in the first quarter, he's a huge huge plus.
However, if he becomes a staple of the starting lineup and plays more than 25 minutes a night, this might backfire. There's not enough ball for Pierce, Allen and Rondo, nevermind getting Sheedy 20 touches a night.
Mark the words of the Murk. If Glen Davis gets a higher offer (remeber, he's a restricted free agent and the Celtics own him if they match any offer by other teams) and goes somewhere else, this will be bad. How bad? Well, not as bad as having NO ONE to spell Perkins and KG, but much less than ideal.
Why?
Sheed is old. He can't carry the minutes but he's stubborn and just good enough to get his number called to do so. And all this talk about veterans in the locker room and Doc Rivers having his respect is nice, if we're writing a movie script, but NO ONE is changing Sheed. Remember, this is the guy they put the manditory suspension for too many technicals in a season for. And this is not a man trying to restart his career or rebuild his image. This is an aging guy trying to trade time for a few more rings. He doesn't need a new contract after this. He will not be on his best behavior.
Do I like the move?
Oh fuck yes I do. I love Rasheed Wallace. He reminds me of me.
Friday, July 3, 2009
And Now...
CELEBRITY DEATH WATCH:::::
Here's the Vegas odds on these celebs dying in the next month...
Dick Clark 3/2
Keith Richards 10/1
Anna Nicole Smith (again) .off.
Joaquim Phoenix 4/3
Mel Gibson 7/1
Elvis Costello 15/1
Jimmy Carter 2/1
Magic Jonson 32/1
Pamela Anderson 15/1
Martin Sheen 5/1
Oprah Winfrey 524/1
Plaxico Burress 23/5
Denzel Washington 43/3
Tonya Harding 12/1
Kim Catrall 37/1
Pedro Gomez 112/3
Billy D. Williams 23/2
Barry Sanders 221/1
Billy Mays .off.
Kevin Bacon 666/1
Chuck D 12/1
S. Epatha Merkerson 41/1
Maury Pocich 5/1
Here's the Vegas odds on these celebs dying in the next month...
Dick Clark 3/2
Keith Richards 10/1
Anna Nicole Smith (again) .off.
Joaquim Phoenix 4/3
Mel Gibson 7/1
Elvis Costello 15/1
Jimmy Carter 2/1
Magic Jonson 32/1
Pamela Anderson 15/1
Martin Sheen 5/1
Oprah Winfrey 524/1
Plaxico Burress 23/5
Denzel Washington 43/3
Tonya Harding 12/1
Kim Catrall 37/1
Pedro Gomez 112/3
Billy D. Williams 23/2
Barry Sanders 221/1
Billy Mays .off.
Kevin Bacon 666/1
Chuck D 12/1
S. Epatha Merkerson 41/1
Maury Pocich 5/1
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Criminal Minded
The heat wave descends upon my fair town and my mind turns, as it often does, to crime. I love the sound of trumped up legal charges as the baliff shouts them of in court. Poetic, really. So, as a sort of primary on crime poetry (it's like an offshoot of detective fiction), I present you with a short glossary of useful crime terms for your next flight of poesy:
Larceny - Now there's a word. The next time you have some highbrow friends over, let the word roll off your tongue at the end of a sentence. Like, "You know, I really haven't been myself since Bee was arrested for... Larceny."
Petty Theft - If you're feeling British, try petty theft on for size, old bean! Hoo ho! What what? Petty theft, you say? Righto! England is filled with thickly accented thieves, most of which come straight out of their military. But what is petty theft? Oh, shut up you git before I loosen your waggle with me ponfadoo. Fucking poofs.
Assault and Battery - No no. Not just assault. Assaul AND battery. Like mac and cheese. Pork and beens. Can't have assault without a little battery. For edification, assault is to attack with the intent to do harm, battery is the doing of injuries to the victim.
B n E - You can't just call it breaking and entering. Na na. It's BnE! BnE bro! Like A&E, except it's burglary! Oh. That's a good one too. Burglary. Ohhhh. Shivers. Oh. Oh. Now, you can have your entering. You can keep your breaking. But put them together and now you're going to blow up some ethic stereotypes. Everyone loves BnE. Even us white folk!
Cops - Just as a side note, it's supposedly a derrogatory term. Don't ever use it in front of a police officer. Like, don't say, "Do all you cops go in for that sort of butch sodomite looke, or is it just you Chauncy?" They don't like it. Robbers better than cops! Robbers.
So, anyways, that's just a bit to get you started. Soo, you'll be writing verses like this...
Open and Gross,
Lewd activity.
The perp limped off with a grin.
Not a cop for miles, but
That old lady might rat.
Better to hit her with a bat, said he.
Now he's 5 to nine in the County Pen.
Larceny - Now there's a word. The next time you have some highbrow friends over, let the word roll off your tongue at the end of a sentence. Like, "You know, I really haven't been myself since Bee was arrested for... Larceny."
Petty Theft - If you're feeling British, try petty theft on for size, old bean! Hoo ho! What what? Petty theft, you say? Righto! England is filled with thickly accented thieves, most of which come straight out of their military. But what is petty theft? Oh, shut up you git before I loosen your waggle with me ponfadoo. Fucking poofs.
Assault and Battery - No no. Not just assault. Assaul AND battery. Like mac and cheese. Pork and beens. Can't have assault without a little battery. For edification, assault is to attack with the intent to do harm, battery is the doing of injuries to the victim.
B n E - You can't just call it breaking and entering. Na na. It's BnE! BnE bro! Like A&E, except it's burglary! Oh. That's a good one too. Burglary. Ohhhh. Shivers. Oh. Oh. Now, you can have your entering. You can keep your breaking. But put them together and now you're going to blow up some ethic stereotypes. Everyone loves BnE. Even us white folk!
Cops - Just as a side note, it's supposedly a derrogatory term. Don't ever use it in front of a police officer. Like, don't say, "Do all you cops go in for that sort of butch sodomite looke, or is it just you Chauncy?" They don't like it. Robbers better than cops! Robbers.
So, anyways, that's just a bit to get you started. Soo, you'll be writing verses like this...
Open and Gross,
Lewd activity.
The perp limped off with a grin.
Not a cop for miles, but
That old lady might rat.
Better to hit her with a bat, said he.
Now he's 5 to nine in the County Pen.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
The Hierarchy of Beings
In life, we are forced to make many choices. The choices we make place us on the ladder of success. Most people agree that you can't objectively measure a person's success by their occupation alone.
Bullshit.
Using my patented 28 step divisional substrate process, I hace managed to piece together a hierarchy of beings. Yeah, sure, we all know that Lawyers, Doctors and President Obama are on the bottom. But who is on top and why?
7. Vampyres - Coming in dead last out of our top seven beings of all time are vampyres. Scary. Charming. Scary. Cute. Fightening and gross. Vampyres have it all over you. They are the best of the best, except for numbers 6 through 1.
6. Pirate - A pirate could easily kill a vampyre with a sword. You can't believe everything you read. Why so low on the charts? Hey, six is pretty good, you mangy African cocksuckers. When you see who ranky higher, you'll learn better. Pirates, way cool, but calm the fuck down.
5. Dinosaurs - Now, I know what you're thinking... YES!!!! This rocks! I know! Dinos are so fucking huge and tramplicious that they have to be on this list, easting and stomping everything below including firemen and cheesecake makers. BOOM BOMM BOMM! REEEEOOOAAAAAR!!!! Crunch crunch crunh.
4. Clowns - Including mimes. This is where faith comes in. Kinda like faith in an invisible fairy that waits around for you to summon it to do your bidding. But where there is faith, there is proof. A clown could stop a dinosaur with a sub-machine gun or his dick. If it's a girl mime, she could nag it with confusing hand gestures of doom.
4a. - Muppets
3. Ninjas - I know, I know, like the dinosaurs, right? We all know about ninjas. I don't even have to cite the hundreds of masters in America or those movies with the guy who cuts that mutherfucker's throat. Nijas are tough to beat. You go to punch them, they're not there. You got to read the paper, they force open your mouth and spit poison in. It's that simple.
2. Ghosts - Even ninjas have fears. A ghost is like a nija you just can't fuck with because ghosts don't give a fucking fuck. They're ethereal, man. Don't you get it? Ninja ain't killing that shit! And who do you think makes all those ghosts? Ninjas. Who are the ghosts pissed at? Ninjas. Now you're cooking with sake, Waki-san. Hiya!
1. Muhammad - Follow me here. First off, he's dead, therefore a ghost. That bumps him to number 2. Also, he commands an army of human sand fleas that will kill in his name just for some tail in the afterlife. He's like Sgt. Rock with invisibility and an RPG with unlimited charges. He is like the numbah won ghost king and he's pissed off all the time. He'd kill the Buddha and nail Jesus back up on the cross and yell "Stay there until I say you can come back down."
Well, that concludes this braodcast. I'm just letting a muthafucker know what's up.
Bullshit.
Using my patented 28 step divisional substrate process, I hace managed to piece together a hierarchy of beings. Yeah, sure, we all know that Lawyers, Doctors and President Obama are on the bottom. But who is on top and why?
7. Vampyres - Coming in dead last out of our top seven beings of all time are vampyres. Scary. Charming. Scary. Cute. Fightening and gross. Vampyres have it all over you. They are the best of the best, except for numbers 6 through 1.
6. Pirate - A pirate could easily kill a vampyre with a sword. You can't believe everything you read. Why so low on the charts? Hey, six is pretty good, you mangy African cocksuckers. When you see who ranky higher, you'll learn better. Pirates, way cool, but calm the fuck down.
5. Dinosaurs - Now, I know what you're thinking... YES!!!! This rocks! I know! Dinos are so fucking huge and tramplicious that they have to be on this list, easting and stomping everything below including firemen and cheesecake makers. BOOM BOMM BOMM! REEEEOOOAAAAAR!!!! Crunch crunch crunh.
4. Clowns - Including mimes. This is where faith comes in. Kinda like faith in an invisible fairy that waits around for you to summon it to do your bidding. But where there is faith, there is proof. A clown could stop a dinosaur with a sub-machine gun or his dick. If it's a girl mime, she could nag it with confusing hand gestures of doom.
4a. - Muppets
3. Ninjas - I know, I know, like the dinosaurs, right? We all know about ninjas. I don't even have to cite the hundreds of masters in America or those movies with the guy who cuts that mutherfucker's throat. Nijas are tough to beat. You go to punch them, they're not there. You got to read the paper, they force open your mouth and spit poison in. It's that simple.
2. Ghosts - Even ninjas have fears. A ghost is like a nija you just can't fuck with because ghosts don't give a fucking fuck. They're ethereal, man. Don't you get it? Ninja ain't killing that shit! And who do you think makes all those ghosts? Ninjas. Who are the ghosts pissed at? Ninjas. Now you're cooking with sake, Waki-san. Hiya!
1. Muhammad - Follow me here. First off, he's dead, therefore a ghost. That bumps him to number 2. Also, he commands an army of human sand fleas that will kill in his name just for some tail in the afterlife. He's like Sgt. Rock with invisibility and an RPG with unlimited charges. He is like the numbah won ghost king and he's pissed off all the time. He'd kill the Buddha and nail Jesus back up on the cross and yell "Stay there until I say you can come back down."
Well, that concludes this braodcast. I'm just letting a muthafucker know what's up.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Disease
If you ever get a disease, it's your fault.
These people list a few, which I'll use to demonstrate the validity of my theory.
10
Gulf War Syndrome
Stay the fuck out of the Middle East, dummy.
9
Twentieth-Century Disease
Also known as multiple chemical sensitivity (MCS).
You shouldn't be touching things.
8
Stiff Person Syndrome
Never try to do shit.
7
Morgellons Disease
Morgellons disease is characterized by symptoms including crawling, biting, and stinging sensations. You have crabs or bed lice. Dirty fucker.
6
Cyclic Vomiting Syndrome
Lay off the booze and burritos, amigo.
5
Electromagnetic Hypersensitivity
You said yes to the aliens.
4
Nodding Disease
Kiss ass.
3
Peruvian Meteorite Illness
Stay the fuck out of PERU and don't fuck with meteors.
2
The Sweating Sickness
Lose weight and stop eating fried food, fatty.
1
Exploding Head Syndrome
LSD will do that, you know. So will a lot of other drugs.
These people list a few, which I'll use to demonstrate the validity of my theory.
10
Gulf War Syndrome
Stay the fuck out of the Middle East, dummy.
9
Twentieth-Century Disease
Also known as multiple chemical sensitivity (MCS).
You shouldn't be touching things.
8
Stiff Person Syndrome
Never try to do shit.
7
Morgellons Disease
Morgellons disease is characterized by symptoms including crawling, biting, and stinging sensations. You have crabs or bed lice. Dirty fucker.
6
Cyclic Vomiting Syndrome
Lay off the booze and burritos, amigo.
5
Electromagnetic Hypersensitivity
You said yes to the aliens.
4
Nodding Disease
Kiss ass.
3
Peruvian Meteorite Illness
Stay the fuck out of PERU and don't fuck with meteors.
2
The Sweating Sickness
Lose weight and stop eating fried food, fatty.
1
Exploding Head Syndrome
LSD will do that, you know. So will a lot of other drugs.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Coming Soon...
The return of the most offensive man on the internet.
After a planned extended cooldown of Dr. Murk's blog and his mind, and with the recent run on his sanity almost completed (ending in madness, assuredly), I will be making my triumphant return to teh interwebs with all sorts of really terrible and insulting gimmicks.
This blog is almost dead (what 2 readers) and so I'll be making a grand opening somewhere else. This blog will serve as an adendum or like an appendix for people who need clarification or wish to comment on the other blog.
And, because you're lazy, most of it will be 1 minute audio and video clips that play right in your browser or links to you tube posts etc. All will be Murk originals or Murk Cheap Rip Offs, or literally, just crap with commentary. So, buckle up America and Sudan. This time, it's my job.
Mr. President Head
After a planned extended cooldown of Dr. Murk's blog and his mind, and with the recent run on his sanity almost completed (ending in madness, assuredly), I will be making my triumphant return to teh interwebs with all sorts of really terrible and insulting gimmicks.
This blog is almost dead (what 2 readers) and so I'll be making a grand opening somewhere else. This blog will serve as an adendum or like an appendix for people who need clarification or wish to comment on the other blog.
And, because you're lazy, most of it will be 1 minute audio and video clips that play right in your browser or links to you tube posts etc. All will be Murk originals or Murk Cheap Rip Offs, or literally, just crap with commentary. So, buckle up America and Sudan. This time, it's my job.
Mr. President Head
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Mind Shark
I'm reading a book. The Raw Shark Texts. It's odd, but a lot of the ideas in it are mine. The author could not have known this. I have yet to speak of them or write them down. The way that the human mind works is in concert with its environment and within society. So, it's no surprise that in the information age, two people had the same idea that information itelf might be alive and possibly conscious.
In the book, the information takes on a sort of physical body to do its work. Bad work. Evil work. Leeching off the minds of people, eating their personalities and memories. My idea, though no less sinister, is more psychological in nature.
Take the song that gets stuck in your head. It's in your neurons. It's lodged there, somehow. Phrases in language become part of the lexicon, sticking in our minds and taking over space in our reality. Even our wants and needs are ideas. We don't spend most of our day hunting and gathering anymore, and so the needs become more materialistic or cerebral. They're in our head.
Addiction is a physical need coupled with a psychological fixation on some object of desire. Everyone is mildly addicted to something. They answer a deep seated craving that they believe will fill a need by seeking their object of desire. A drink. A new gadget. A victory in a sport or game.
In many of us, we become slave to this desire, this addiction.
Sometimes, it's not an addiction, but an ideology that gets stuck in our heads. We believe in one way of living or thinking or acting and we stick to it. Sometimes, we defend it or fight for it. We start wars for them.
In the age of information, a curious new form of fixation has come. Ideas and concepts that mean very little, but occupy our minds as fiercely as any addiction. Memes. Not th corney 50 question memes, but the weird viral packets of self replicating information we pass along.
They work like jokes. You hear a joke, you tell it to another. But these aren't jokes. They're bits of information, easily spread through the open media sources like the internet or text messages or phones. Some are true, some are false. Some survive and breed, some don't and there's not much but informational darwinism that decides which make it and which don't.
Advertisers have taken advantage of this for close to 50 years. Bombard a population with messages until one stick. Ba da ba ba ba! I'm lovin' it! HUH??? Why that?
But the new form of meme is not designed with a product in mind. It's not even designed. Someone pits a bit of information up on a site and people get infected with it. LOL Catz, for instance.
Some are more dangerous. Snopes, the debunking site, is filled with page after page debunking some of these memes. Rumors, medical warnings, political sabotage, urban legends, lifestyle warnings. Dure, these things have always existed, but...
It used to be for a meme to take hold it had to spread person to personin daily contact. Only the strongest ones survived and lasted. Things like "It's every person's dream to get married and own a house."
Now, anyone can write something or film something and put it up on the internet and it can spread. This new informational medium allows alternet informational viruses to spread and find spots in our brain.
The danger is real. It might have already happened. The right combination of ideas, visuals and words might be enough to infect a population. I'll leave that open for your interpretation.
In the book, the information takes on a sort of physical body to do its work. Bad work. Evil work. Leeching off the minds of people, eating their personalities and memories. My idea, though no less sinister, is more psychological in nature.
Take the song that gets stuck in your head. It's in your neurons. It's lodged there, somehow. Phrases in language become part of the lexicon, sticking in our minds and taking over space in our reality. Even our wants and needs are ideas. We don't spend most of our day hunting and gathering anymore, and so the needs become more materialistic or cerebral. They're in our head.
Addiction is a physical need coupled with a psychological fixation on some object of desire. Everyone is mildly addicted to something. They answer a deep seated craving that they believe will fill a need by seeking their object of desire. A drink. A new gadget. A victory in a sport or game.
In many of us, we become slave to this desire, this addiction.
Sometimes, it's not an addiction, but an ideology that gets stuck in our heads. We believe in one way of living or thinking or acting and we stick to it. Sometimes, we defend it or fight for it. We start wars for them.
In the age of information, a curious new form of fixation has come. Ideas and concepts that mean very little, but occupy our minds as fiercely as any addiction. Memes. Not th corney 50 question memes, but the weird viral packets of self replicating information we pass along.
They work like jokes. You hear a joke, you tell it to another. But these aren't jokes. They're bits of information, easily spread through the open media sources like the internet or text messages or phones. Some are true, some are false. Some survive and breed, some don't and there's not much but informational darwinism that decides which make it and which don't.
Advertisers have taken advantage of this for close to 50 years. Bombard a population with messages until one stick. Ba da ba ba ba! I'm lovin' it! HUH??? Why that?
But the new form of meme is not designed with a product in mind. It's not even designed. Someone pits a bit of information up on a site and people get infected with it. LOL Catz, for instance.
Some are more dangerous. Snopes, the debunking site, is filled with page after page debunking some of these memes. Rumors, medical warnings, political sabotage, urban legends, lifestyle warnings. Dure, these things have always existed, but...
It used to be for a meme to take hold it had to spread person to personin daily contact. Only the strongest ones survived and lasted. Things like "It's every person's dream to get married and own a house."
Now, anyone can write something or film something and put it up on the internet and it can spread. This new informational medium allows alternet informational viruses to spread and find spots in our brain.
The danger is real. It might have already happened. The right combination of ideas, visuals and words might be enough to infect a population. I'll leave that open for your interpretation.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Fear
“Fear is the mind killer.”
- Frank Herbert
We live in a culture of fear. We are paralyzed by it. Corporations design advertisements that show us how we should look, how we should dress and what we should eat. The implied message is that if we don’t buy, we’ll be less than those around us. Does a person need a large plasma TV if they can see the screen on the current one just fine? No, but commercials subtly imply that every important person has one.
The government uses fear to rally support. The news media use fear to boost ratings. Social groups and businesses use fear to influence and motivate. Families use fear to control behaviors and interactions. Every corner of our lives is filled with it.
There’s always talk about reducing stress. The root of stress is fear. Fear of failure. Fear of humiliation. Fear of not being loved. We should be talking about reducing fear. Some would have us believe that bravery conquers fear. No. A brave person is one who is afraid, but continues on in the face of that fear. That is one way to continue on. Bravery, like all virtues, is only attained through practice. We are not all brave, but we could all practice bravery. Even still, some would never achieve it.
It is our firm belief that all people deserve to live free of fear. Since we cannot all become brave, another solution is called for. So, in order to eliminate fear, we must find the root of fear.
In the past, people struggled to meet their basic needs: food, shelter and safety. This sort of fear is instinctive and necessary. If you are starving, or out in the cold, or in physical danger, your primary focus needs to be on meeting the basic needs.
Once the basic needs are met, other, more complicated needs arise. The needs for friendship, love, acceptance and fulfillment are all relevant to our happiness. The attainment of friendship, love, acceptance and fulfillment occupies most of our thoughts. Sometimes, we even act rashly or recklessly in order to have these things. And other times, we are downright vicious and cruel in the name of love, friendship, acceptance and fulfillment. These are powerful needs.
When our needs are not met, we become desperate. That’s when we fear. We fear that these needs will not be met unless we act! Any action, even a devious or hurtful one is better than doing nothing. If we do nothing, it will slip away, right? Well, consider for a moment that you are not the only one that knows you act desperate when you are afraid. They know. The use it to use you all the time! Their solution? Buy it, vote for it, work for it, worship it or kill for it. So, you do. And afterward you’re still no closer to your goal.
What’s our solution? First, realize there is no action necessary to attain that level of friendship, love, acceptance or fulfillment. Chances are, you already have it.
Quick story: A friend of ours wanted to be in a romantic relationship with a particular person. He was already friends with her. He wanted so badly to be with her, that he didn’t realize that he was already with her. He was so caught up in making her fall in love with him, that he forgot to do all the things that make women fall in love with me. Things like making her laugh, or politely complimenting her, or even just listening to her. These were all the things he imagined himself doing with her, but he didn’t realize that all he had to do was do them and enjoy them! He was too busy wallowing in fear of never having that special relationship to build that relationship. All he had to do was to continue doing the things that made them friends in the first place. Even if they had never become intimate, at least he would have enjoyed every aspect of her that he could have. But even more than that… There were probably fifteen girls at the time that did want to have a romantic relationship with him. No. He wouldn’t even give them a chance. It’s a shame, one of them might have been his future wife, but he was blinded by the fear of losing that particular girl.
The moral is that we are usually given what we need. When we aren’t, we find the strength to get what we can and survive without the rest. Every human being should be able to boil their desires down to one sentence. You’d be surprised how similar all our sentences would be if we did. Once we have a good handle on our desires, our fear will lessen. Without needless desires, there are no more needless worries. Eliminate needless desire. Write the one sentence that defines your needs and ignore the rest of the bullshit. You’ll find that what you really need is neither bought nor sold, neither legislated nor fought for nor worked for etc. Realizing this is the end to needless fear.
Picture fear as a lever. You are standing on the low end of a seesaw, and they are going to push down on the high end to launch you off. You can clutch at the ground or hand on to your end for dear life. Perhaps, you could just step off the seesaw. Once their lever is gone, they have no way of moving you. Once they no longer can move you, you will move yourself. That leap off is the first step. It’s the only step.
The two final fears to be conquered are the fear of death and the fear of the unknown. Those fears are quite different and are not within the scope of this article. Suffice to say that fearing death or the unknown prepares you for neither. Unknown things will happen, and we can prepare for them by training our minds and our bodies. Death is, as of yet, unavoidable. We prepare for death first by accepting our temporary nature, then by training our soul.
The culture of fear we live in can only be overcome by constant vigilance on our part. Whenever we feel anxious, we must first remember what it is we really need, and then slowly realize that our anxiety is not related to those true needs, but usually something insignificant. We must remind ourselves that ‘sweating the small stuff’ literally saps our energy to deal with true crises. Not only does our anxiety make us fell bad in the present, but it leave us under prepared and over tired in the future. Focus on your true needs. Write down that sentence again and again until you really get it. It is only when we conquer fear that the true part of our work in this life can begin.
- Frank Herbert
We live in a culture of fear. We are paralyzed by it. Corporations design advertisements that show us how we should look, how we should dress and what we should eat. The implied message is that if we don’t buy, we’ll be less than those around us. Does a person need a large plasma TV if they can see the screen on the current one just fine? No, but commercials subtly imply that every important person has one.
The government uses fear to rally support. The news media use fear to boost ratings. Social groups and businesses use fear to influence and motivate. Families use fear to control behaviors and interactions. Every corner of our lives is filled with it.
There’s always talk about reducing stress. The root of stress is fear. Fear of failure. Fear of humiliation. Fear of not being loved. We should be talking about reducing fear. Some would have us believe that bravery conquers fear. No. A brave person is one who is afraid, but continues on in the face of that fear. That is one way to continue on. Bravery, like all virtues, is only attained through practice. We are not all brave, but we could all practice bravery. Even still, some would never achieve it.
It is our firm belief that all people deserve to live free of fear. Since we cannot all become brave, another solution is called for. So, in order to eliminate fear, we must find the root of fear.
In the past, people struggled to meet their basic needs: food, shelter and safety. This sort of fear is instinctive and necessary. If you are starving, or out in the cold, or in physical danger, your primary focus needs to be on meeting the basic needs.
Once the basic needs are met, other, more complicated needs arise. The needs for friendship, love, acceptance and fulfillment are all relevant to our happiness. The attainment of friendship, love, acceptance and fulfillment occupies most of our thoughts. Sometimes, we even act rashly or recklessly in order to have these things. And other times, we are downright vicious and cruel in the name of love, friendship, acceptance and fulfillment. These are powerful needs.
When our needs are not met, we become desperate. That’s when we fear. We fear that these needs will not be met unless we act! Any action, even a devious or hurtful one is better than doing nothing. If we do nothing, it will slip away, right? Well, consider for a moment that you are not the only one that knows you act desperate when you are afraid. They know. The use it to use you all the time! Their solution? Buy it, vote for it, work for it, worship it or kill for it. So, you do. And afterward you’re still no closer to your goal.
What’s our solution? First, realize there is no action necessary to attain that level of friendship, love, acceptance or fulfillment. Chances are, you already have it.
Quick story: A friend of ours wanted to be in a romantic relationship with a particular person. He was already friends with her. He wanted so badly to be with her, that he didn’t realize that he was already with her. He was so caught up in making her fall in love with him, that he forgot to do all the things that make women fall in love with me. Things like making her laugh, or politely complimenting her, or even just listening to her. These were all the things he imagined himself doing with her, but he didn’t realize that all he had to do was do them and enjoy them! He was too busy wallowing in fear of never having that special relationship to build that relationship. All he had to do was to continue doing the things that made them friends in the first place. Even if they had never become intimate, at least he would have enjoyed every aspect of her that he could have. But even more than that… There were probably fifteen girls at the time that did want to have a romantic relationship with him. No. He wouldn’t even give them a chance. It’s a shame, one of them might have been his future wife, but he was blinded by the fear of losing that particular girl.
The moral is that we are usually given what we need. When we aren’t, we find the strength to get what we can and survive without the rest. Every human being should be able to boil their desires down to one sentence. You’d be surprised how similar all our sentences would be if we did. Once we have a good handle on our desires, our fear will lessen. Without needless desires, there are no more needless worries. Eliminate needless desire. Write the one sentence that defines your needs and ignore the rest of the bullshit. You’ll find that what you really need is neither bought nor sold, neither legislated nor fought for nor worked for etc. Realizing this is the end to needless fear.
Picture fear as a lever. You are standing on the low end of a seesaw, and they are going to push down on the high end to launch you off. You can clutch at the ground or hand on to your end for dear life. Perhaps, you could just step off the seesaw. Once their lever is gone, they have no way of moving you. Once they no longer can move you, you will move yourself. That leap off is the first step. It’s the only step.
The two final fears to be conquered are the fear of death and the fear of the unknown. Those fears are quite different and are not within the scope of this article. Suffice to say that fearing death or the unknown prepares you for neither. Unknown things will happen, and we can prepare for them by training our minds and our bodies. Death is, as of yet, unavoidable. We prepare for death first by accepting our temporary nature, then by training our soul.
The culture of fear we live in can only be overcome by constant vigilance on our part. Whenever we feel anxious, we must first remember what it is we really need, and then slowly realize that our anxiety is not related to those true needs, but usually something insignificant. We must remind ourselves that ‘sweating the small stuff’ literally saps our energy to deal with true crises. Not only does our anxiety make us fell bad in the present, but it leave us under prepared and over tired in the future. Focus on your true needs. Write down that sentence again and again until you really get it. It is only when we conquer fear that the true part of our work in this life can begin.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Whither the Murk?
I've been absent. It's a strange feeling you get every once in a while where there are no relevant thoughts to share. Oh, there were thoughts... not formed enough yet. Stuff about brainwashing and informational diseases. The good paranoid stuff. But why even post that crap on the internet? That's what we have wackos for right?
So I figured I'd tell you a joke.
Joy woke up one morning in a great mood and decided she wanted to share it with the world. So, she spent the day planning a huge party, open invitation with one small catch.
It was to be a costume party, and anyone who wanted to get in would have to dress up as their mood.
The time came to swing wide the doors of the party hall and admit the guests. Joy wited at the door, admiring the costumes. There were a few she did not immediately get.
She walked over to Steve, a young, uptight Pakistani American dressed in steel belted radial rubber parts.
"Steve!," she said, "What sort of mood is that???"
"I'm tired," Steve said.
"Awwww," she smiled and kissed him on the forehead. She saw Lucy, a slender Asian typist from work, dressed all in tattered clothes and wearing a washcloth for a hat and very nice clean sneakers.
"Lucy!" she said, "What kind of a mood is that????"
"I'm run ragged," Lucy said.
"Awwwww," Joy patted her head.
Then she saw Carl, a large nubile African American janitor who worked very hard but always got picked on by the boss... and he was naked. Naked as hell and he had his penis stuck in a bowl of custard.
"Carl," Joy began but stuttered, "What the hell emotion are you?" He pointed at his penis and leaned in close and said...
"I'm fuckin' discustid!"
So I figured I'd tell you a joke.
Joy woke up one morning in a great mood and decided she wanted to share it with the world. So, she spent the day planning a huge party, open invitation with one small catch.
It was to be a costume party, and anyone who wanted to get in would have to dress up as their mood.
The time came to swing wide the doors of the party hall and admit the guests. Joy wited at the door, admiring the costumes. There were a few she did not immediately get.
She walked over to Steve, a young, uptight Pakistani American dressed in steel belted radial rubber parts.
"Steve!," she said, "What sort of mood is that???"
"I'm tired," Steve said.
"Awwww," she smiled and kissed him on the forehead. She saw Lucy, a slender Asian typist from work, dressed all in tattered clothes and wearing a washcloth for a hat and very nice clean sneakers.
"Lucy!" she said, "What kind of a mood is that????"
"I'm run ragged," Lucy said.
"Awwwww," Joy patted her head.
Then she saw Carl, a large nubile African American janitor who worked very hard but always got picked on by the boss... and he was naked. Naked as hell and he had his penis stuck in a bowl of custard.
"Carl," Joy began but stuttered, "What the hell emotion are you?" He pointed at his penis and leaned in close and said...
"I'm fuckin' discustid!"
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
You Know What?
I've studied all of the major religions on the planet. You know where they go wrong? Making up rules. No no, it's true. Where do the rules come from? They only have two choices:
a GOD
a HUMAN
If they claim a GOD gave them the rules, then the adherents want to know when and where. So, there's now a story attached. As soon as all the witnesses of GOD's great revelation are dead, anyone can add to the story or change the rules. Or, people can just say 'yeah, God talked to me too and here are some more rules to follow.'
If they admit the rules are a creation of fallible humans, then they become invalid. Even the old game of divine inspiration and granted infallability don't work. People don't really buy that.
The sad thing is, if a GOD was really trying to talk to us, humans would exploit the message as soon as it was sent.
Now I believe in powers that are greater than me, both human and divine, but I don't buy into any one human group's claim to have the true faith. How would they know short of a direct missive from God? All of the sacred texts have undergone too many revisions and edits to be fully trusted as divinely written.
So, how do I deal? I believe we all have an ear for truth and an ear for pure fucking horseshit. I trust that.
a GOD
a HUMAN
If they claim a GOD gave them the rules, then the adherents want to know when and where. So, there's now a story attached. As soon as all the witnesses of GOD's great revelation are dead, anyone can add to the story or change the rules. Or, people can just say 'yeah, God talked to me too and here are some more rules to follow.'
If they admit the rules are a creation of fallible humans, then they become invalid. Even the old game of divine inspiration and granted infallability don't work. People don't really buy that.
The sad thing is, if a GOD was really trying to talk to us, humans would exploit the message as soon as it was sent.
Now I believe in powers that are greater than me, both human and divine, but I don't buy into any one human group's claim to have the true faith. How would they know short of a direct missive from God? All of the sacred texts have undergone too many revisions and edits to be fully trusted as divinely written.
So, how do I deal? I believe we all have an ear for truth and an ear for pure fucking horseshit. I trust that.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Call
Things not working out the way you planned?
Drop off the grid.
Fact:
A human being needs a bare minimum 1500 Calories to survive and move around.
Large Bulk Calorie Items can be found lying around in sealed packages in back of grocerie stores.
Fact:
A human being requires water.zzzzzzz5432!!!@ find water.com boilit learntomake a fire.
Fact:
Human beings require vitamins and minerals. Target. CVS. WALMART. Cheap.
Fact:
Human beings need shelter. zzzzzzzzzzzzzz...bubububububub@!!!!!!!!!! findshelterthere you can find shelter and lots of it. buildafireforwarmth.
Fact:
All human beings die. It's going to happen. It's deciding how you want to spend the time between now and when it does that makes the difference.
ALL HUMANS MUST REPORT FOR....
i think they're reading this...
Drop off the grid.
Fact:
A human being needs a bare minimum 1500 Calories to survive and move around.
Large Bulk Calorie Items can be found lying around in sealed packages in back of grocerie stores.
Fact:
A human being requires water.zzzzzzz5432!!!@ find water.com boilit learntomake a fire.
Fact:
Human beings require vitamins and minerals. Target. CVS. WALMART. Cheap.
Fact:
Human beings need shelter. zzzzzzzzzzzzzz...bubububububub@!!!!!!!!!! findshelterthere you can find shelter and lots of it. buildafireforwarmth.
Fact:
All human beings die. It's going to happen. It's deciding how you want to spend the time between now and when it does that makes the difference.
ALL HUMANS MUST REPORT FOR....
i think they're reading this...
Sunday, March 22, 2009
The END
Well, I finished watching the final 2 hour season finale of Battlestar Galactica and that is the end of that series. No spoilers here.
I have spent three years with this show, and as a whole it did not disappoint. The last episode was about what I expected, quality wise. How do you even end a story like that? They ended the clean way. I would have ended on a far darker note, but their ending was cathartic enough I guess.
So, that is the end.
For now.
I have spent three years with this show, and as a whole it did not disappoint. The last episode was about what I expected, quality wise. How do you even end a story like that? They ended the clean way. I would have ended on a far darker note, but their ending was cathartic enough I guess.
So, that is the end.
For now.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Dread Diary
OBLOGMA presents, my Obama's First diary:
i cant beleive itz january already! I cant wait till obama is president! they are moving into some house in washington before thewy go to the witehouse. they are all so cute! i bet michelle cooks him dinner and he sits in that sgrey sweater yeah lolz. oh i love him.
i can't even think straight obama just took his first steps!!!!
i think obama likes chicken soup with noodles, not rice. can we get some noodles up in here? yes we can. michelle says marriage is hard work. yeah. maybe if your not married to barack obama! i hear he rubs her feet every night right before he put the kids to bed. awwwwww!
barack obama is so wise. oprah even sez that. i hope obama and i are bffl. i'll always remeber he was black and i voted for him.
i cant believe how much bush suks. he meessed up the country and now obama has to fix the planet 8cue sewperman music!!!8 wait....
oh noes! i just heard that obama has sneezed! call doctur nao!!! the bushes probly left a secret flu there to kill him but they cant. so awesome. all the troops are coming home and the econemy is gettin better and better. oh, michelle is on the cover o us magazine. hawt.
theyre getting a dog!!!! yeah!!! but michelle is smart and has it planned for april. i don't know if i can wait that long! the girls want it on april fools day, but michelle say, oh no no no.
omg, there's a pickcha of obama on this mortgae ad! how funny! ha ha ha. he's got a check for me! and he does. i'm already earning about 50 dollars more per hour because of his economic stimulants.
so i must go to bed dear dairy, so i'll tell you more about what obama did tomorrow. i cant wait!@!!
nite
Thursday, February 26, 2009
361
It's the number of intelligent societies that have (note: HAVE) arisen in the Milky Way Galaxy since its beginning. This is the low end estimate, the absolute lowest it can be statistically. This according to a new computer model designed and run by some very skeptical but well respected astronomers.
The number was a surpise to may of them, who loaded the computer simulation to favor a high number of mass extinctions and a very strict definition of the conditions necessary for life to even begin.
And the number is likely to go up as we learn more about how and when life can develop.
Not just 316 species or 361 possible planets. 361 intelligent societies.
The number was a surpise to may of them, who loaded the computer simulation to favor a high number of mass extinctions and a very strict definition of the conditions necessary for life to even begin.
And the number is likely to go up as we learn more about how and when life can develop.
Not just 316 species or 361 possible planets. 361 intelligent societies.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Survival of the Survivalists
Brainhead's notes from the road.
So, being in a flu-like haze since my departure on National Single Awareness Day, I have only one thing on my mind: survival. I've wandered off into an in-law apartment in Florida for seven days with food, water, shelter and more than a few items to see if I can survive in civilization.
Day 1:
The plane lands and I'm already on edge. The sweltering heat of the suburban Florida Swamps makes me uneasy. The smell of the urinals in the airport is enough to make me want to turn around right now. But for the next seven days, this will be home.
The first priority in a survival situation is to stay calm and take inventory of your surroundings. I have cash, 4 pieces of full luggage, a wife, credit cards, a laptop, use of a car, cellphones, batteries and a bag of Fridays. While it may not seem like much, even the smallest thing can give you an edge when it comes to survival.
My first thought is shelter, but the wilderness has its own ideas, and my driver has pulled into a restaurant. Looks like I'll be eating real food. And it's only my first night...
Okay. So, I'm no Les Stroud. But neither is Bear Grylls. Being infatuated with a celebrity is tough. I love Les Stroud and would gladly eat his children. If I could be anyone in the world besides Muhammed Ali or George Clinton, it would be Les Stroud. I would have sex with his poo poo.
Bear Grylls, on the other hand, is a fraud. I won't bore you with the details. Go read a damn wikipedia article, but he's a fake ass punk, and I would not have sex with his poo poo.
So, in the fictional world of my head, I have created a survival championship. 7 men. 4 weeks. No rules. Drop them all off in a remote location, and tell them to survive for a month. Killing the competition or allying with them is all fair game. So, who do we want in this competition?
Well Les and Bear, just for contrast, but we need 4 others. And to help them out, they would get a one year survuval crash course if needed. So, who else?
Josh Bernstien - Host of Digging for the Truth and CEO of the Boulder Outdoor Survival School. Josh may seem as rugged as a wet Kleenex, but his ass was forged into steel buns of panic.
Don Wildman - Host of Cities of the Underworld. Now, as we shape up the first four contestants, we know that Don is at a disadvantage... except for the fact that I haven't revealed the location yet. And Don is crazy. Crazy assed Crazy.
Sue Stroud - Les' wife. Bitch can throw a hatchet. Does this give Les an advantage? Only if he can find her before the other contestants kill or kidnap her. If you're wondering, she worries about their lifestyle not being primitive enough because they use electricity. She'll be fine.
Iain Stewart - Host of snooty Scottish geology specials. He's basically cannon fodder.
and....
Jetsun Jamphel Ngawang Lobsang Yeshe Tenzin Gyatso, 14th Dalai Lama - He can survive on the moon with no space suit.
The location? The subways and streets of New York City.
The Catch? They can't get caught by anyone and can't use money of any kind.
Questions?
So, being in a flu-like haze since my departure on National Single Awareness Day, I have only one thing on my mind: survival. I've wandered off into an in-law apartment in Florida for seven days with food, water, shelter and more than a few items to see if I can survive in civilization.
Day 1:
The plane lands and I'm already on edge. The sweltering heat of the suburban Florida Swamps makes me uneasy. The smell of the urinals in the airport is enough to make me want to turn around right now. But for the next seven days, this will be home.
The first priority in a survival situation is to stay calm and take inventory of your surroundings. I have cash, 4 pieces of full luggage, a wife, credit cards, a laptop, use of a car, cellphones, batteries and a bag of Fridays. While it may not seem like much, even the smallest thing can give you an edge when it comes to survival.
My first thought is shelter, but the wilderness has its own ideas, and my driver has pulled into a restaurant. Looks like I'll be eating real food. And it's only my first night...
Okay. So, I'm no Les Stroud. But neither is Bear Grylls. Being infatuated with a celebrity is tough. I love Les Stroud and would gladly eat his children. If I could be anyone in the world besides Muhammed Ali or George Clinton, it would be Les Stroud. I would have sex with his poo poo.
Bear Grylls, on the other hand, is a fraud. I won't bore you with the details. Go read a damn wikipedia article, but he's a fake ass punk, and I would not have sex with his poo poo.
So, in the fictional world of my head, I have created a survival championship. 7 men. 4 weeks. No rules. Drop them all off in a remote location, and tell them to survive for a month. Killing the competition or allying with them is all fair game. So, who do we want in this competition?
Well Les and Bear, just for contrast, but we need 4 others. And to help them out, they would get a one year survuval crash course if needed. So, who else?
Josh Bernstien - Host of Digging for the Truth and CEO of the Boulder Outdoor Survival School. Josh may seem as rugged as a wet Kleenex, but his ass was forged into steel buns of panic.
Don Wildman - Host of Cities of the Underworld. Now, as we shape up the first four contestants, we know that Don is at a disadvantage... except for the fact that I haven't revealed the location yet. And Don is crazy. Crazy assed Crazy.
Sue Stroud - Les' wife. Bitch can throw a hatchet. Does this give Les an advantage? Only if he can find her before the other contestants kill or kidnap her. If you're wondering, she worries about their lifestyle not being primitive enough because they use electricity. She'll be fine.
Iain Stewart - Host of snooty Scottish geology specials. He's basically cannon fodder.
and....
Jetsun Jamphel Ngawang Lobsang Yeshe Tenzin Gyatso, 14th Dalai Lama - He can survive on the moon with no space suit.
The location? The subways and streets of New York City.
The Catch? They can't get caught by anyone and can't use money of any kind.
Questions?
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Speaking of Cylons
I'm off to Florida with the Cylons. So, here's what I think we just learned.
Cobol ---- First Cylons made. WAR! Holocaust. Everyone flees Cobol, icluding a group of biological cylons.
13 Colonies ----- It takes a while, but idiot humans make cylons again. Meanwhile the 13th colony of old cylons inhabits Earth. Somehow they get a warning (porbably Starbuck in some weird time travel deal) and head out at sub light speed to warn the other cylons and fix them. The old cylons make a deal with the new cylons to give them the biological technology in order to end the cycle of conflicts. It doesn't work.
WAR! 2nd Holocaust.
Long return to earth. Everything startes to be revealed.
If new cylon biological units can reproduce biologically, it might convince them to stop trying to kill humans. If the two races can interbreed, they might all get along.
Just my thoughts.
Cobol ---- First Cylons made. WAR! Holocaust. Everyone flees Cobol, icluding a group of biological cylons.
13 Colonies ----- It takes a while, but idiot humans make cylons again. Meanwhile the 13th colony of old cylons inhabits Earth. Somehow they get a warning (porbably Starbuck in some weird time travel deal) and head out at sub light speed to warn the other cylons and fix them. The old cylons make a deal with the new cylons to give them the biological technology in order to end the cycle of conflicts. It doesn't work.
WAR! 2nd Holocaust.
Long return to earth. Everything startes to be revealed.
If new cylon biological units can reproduce biologically, it might convince them to stop trying to kill humans. If the two races can interbreed, they might all get along.
Just my thoughts.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Mr. President, Remove Our Troops
Dear Dr. Barack Obama, President of these United States of America,
Please remove all of our troops from foriegn soil and return them immediately to America. This will do 100 things:
1. Stop deaths in our Military completely.
2. Protect our country from invaders.
3. Provide much needed support for our slacker work force.
4. Save us money on overseas postage.
5. Allow our soldiers to die defending their homes with their wives and kids.
6. Create additional jobs at all media outlets to provide 24 hour support for coverage of how awesome you are.
7. Provide us with people to spit on in thanks for their efforts.
8. Bring gas down to 50 cents a gallon.
9. Save the environment from Cobra.
10. Give an excuse for a parade with you as Santa Claus.
11. Make former president idiot look like an idiot.
12. Allow us to mention that you're black another three thousand times.
13. Allow us to show you shaking hands with black soldiers, who are black like you are.
14. Bring up that whole slavery and civil rights thing and how this is like how white people say their sorry.
15. Make you look even more handsome!
16. Give you an excuse to smoke again. Whew!
17. Relieve the choked pipeline of china white so we can all tap a vein.
18. Give women hope that women can one day bring all the troops home. Sorry Hillary!
19. Give all Asians hope that in 200 years, white people will apologise to them by electing a Hawaian president.
20. Give us the firepower to start a war somewhere in Africa.
21. Make you even smarter than ever.
22. Make camoflage cool again.
23. Let Iraq detroy itself for once, again.
24. Give the Gitmo Victims a place to go home to.
25. Put big, shiny ships in harbors.
26. Increase Bud Lite sales by 2 million bottles an hour.
27. Lower the national IQ and make you EVEN MORE smarter by comparison.
28. Protect the cocaine!!!
29. Allow us to march about, pretending to be soldiers without looking evil.
30. Make everyone happy.
31. Make the rest of the world negotiate for food and protection again.
32. Razz of the fookin Brits!
33. Allow you to make another seriously weird speech in that unrecognizable accent you have.
35. Let us sleep safe at night... with SOLDIERS!
36. End the dumb army commecials.
37. Get old ladies to say, mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm hmmmmmmmmm!
38. Have a built in excuse when we get attacked again.
39. Fly your private jet.
OBAMA! Let us pray:
Dear Holy and Just Obama, bring us to a more perfect understanding of how you are so amazing and how we can suck up to you no matter how things go. May we look to you for hope when things go wrong, praise you when things go right, and listen to you when you tell us whether things are going wrong or right. May we have the faith in you to follow your wisdom even when we don't understand or accept what you say. Bring all of this to pass, with the help of your wife, Michelle, the little Angels, Pasha and Boo-Shamika, and through your own good looks and smile, in your name, Barack Hussein, say it again, Obama Amena Sig Hiel!
Please remove all of our troops from foriegn soil and return them immediately to America. This will do 100 things:
1. Stop deaths in our Military completely.
2. Protect our country from invaders.
3. Provide much needed support for our slacker work force.
4. Save us money on overseas postage.
5. Allow our soldiers to die defending their homes with their wives and kids.
6. Create additional jobs at all media outlets to provide 24 hour support for coverage of how awesome you are.
7. Provide us with people to spit on in thanks for their efforts.
8. Bring gas down to 50 cents a gallon.
9. Save the environment from Cobra.
10. Give an excuse for a parade with you as Santa Claus.
11. Make former president idiot look like an idiot.
12. Allow us to mention that you're black another three thousand times.
13. Allow us to show you shaking hands with black soldiers, who are black like you are.
14. Bring up that whole slavery and civil rights thing and how this is like how white people say their sorry.
15. Make you look even more handsome!
16. Give you an excuse to smoke again. Whew!
17. Relieve the choked pipeline of china white so we can all tap a vein.
18. Give women hope that women can one day bring all the troops home. Sorry Hillary!
19. Give all Asians hope that in 200 years, white people will apologise to them by electing a Hawaian president.
20. Give us the firepower to start a war somewhere in Africa.
21. Make you even smarter than ever.
22. Make camoflage cool again.
23. Let Iraq detroy itself for once, again.
24. Give the Gitmo Victims a place to go home to.
25. Put big, shiny ships in harbors.
26. Increase Bud Lite sales by 2 million bottles an hour.
27. Lower the national IQ and make you EVEN MORE smarter by comparison.
28. Protect the cocaine!!!
29. Allow us to march about, pretending to be soldiers without looking evil.
30. Make everyone happy.
31. Make the rest of the world negotiate for food and protection again.
32. Razz of the fookin Brits!
33. Allow you to make another seriously weird speech in that unrecognizable accent you have.
35. Let us sleep safe at night... with SOLDIERS!
36. End the dumb army commecials.
37. Get old ladies to say, mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm hmmmmmmmmm!
38. Have a built in excuse when we get attacked again.
39. Fly your private jet.
OBAMA! Let us pray:
Dear Holy and Just Obama, bring us to a more perfect understanding of how you are so amazing and how we can suck up to you no matter how things go. May we look to you for hope when things go wrong, praise you when things go right, and listen to you when you tell us whether things are going wrong or right. May we have the faith in you to follow your wisdom even when we don't understand or accept what you say. Bring all of this to pass, with the help of your wife, Michelle, the little Angels, Pasha and Boo-Shamika, and through your own good looks and smile, in your name, Barack Hussein, say it again, Obama Amena Sig Hiel!
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Welcome to Wonderland
Being right is difficult. No one likes people who claim to be right all the time. No one likes it when they are wrong and other people are right. No one likes people who are right all the time. And no one wants to hear a person say I told you so.
This complicates matters. You see, being right too often makes it impossible to tell anyone anything useful. When you first started being right, they didn't believe you. So, you tried to prove it to them. Now, they don't want to hear it, they admit it, but hate it. You're always right. Say you're sorry.
Imagine this. You're right. You see it coming. You know you're right. People ask you because they want to be right too, but they don't want you to be right, so they do the opposite to show that you don't know everything. When they're wrong, you can't tell them. They just look at you. Angry. Had you not been right all the time, they never would have done what they did just to spite you and so it is your fault.
"I hate it. You're always right." they might say.
Well, now I have a response. "Think of how I feel. I get to be right and hated for it all the time. I wish I could be wrong like you."
This complicates matters. You see, being right too often makes it impossible to tell anyone anything useful. When you first started being right, they didn't believe you. So, you tried to prove it to them. Now, they don't want to hear it, they admit it, but hate it. You're always right. Say you're sorry.
Imagine this. You're right. You see it coming. You know you're right. People ask you because they want to be right too, but they don't want you to be right, so they do the opposite to show that you don't know everything. When they're wrong, you can't tell them. They just look at you. Angry. Had you not been right all the time, they never would have done what they did just to spite you and so it is your fault.
"I hate it. You're always right." they might say.
Well, now I have a response. "Think of how I feel. I get to be right and hated for it all the time. I wish I could be wrong like you."
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Rome Falls
You need to join His bandwagon or die, people. We obey Him now, and those who don't will be in deep shit. Disagree with a Black Man in power and you're cooked, espiecially This Man. No, it's not racist, it's the climate. Look, I'm an American. Supposedly I have the right to say what I want. I don't care what color people are, but Black people DO. Liberal pussies DO.
This Guy has a set of commemerative coins painted on Kennedy Half Dollars, He's painted over Washington Dollar Collector coins. He's painted OVER Kennedy and Washington! This is NOT that big of a deal. He was born with dark skin. So FUCKING WHAT? So were millions of other people across the globe. In Europe, he'd be a name on a ballot, and considered an Egotistical, Inexperienced political prick.
If he were White, their would be no coins, history marches, parades, etc. But, he's Black. It's as if we are so wrapped up in thinking that Black is special compared to all the other races in America that anything a Black person does gets a multiplier of 10,000. If I were Him, I'd say "Stop acting like I'm some circus freak and that it's so special that I got elected. I'm a man, just like any other." It's like when the teacher praise the stupid kid for getting his first good grade in class.
Blacks are NOT any stupider, less qualified, less personable, less educated, less respected or less privilaged than any other race in America. Let's stop acting like this Man is making history because his skin is slightly darker than some. Hey, he's a hell of a lot WHITER than he is Black.
It's not history any more than Clinton being elected. So why are we in worship mode? Some of it;s race, but most is...
Obama's gigantic Ego and his WHITEY LIBERAL SUPPORTERS who feel like their easy life Guilt is somehow assuaged by this and they can feel good about themselves and go back to being secretly afraid of the Negro in the street. It's true, you lying sacks of shit. White liberals would turn their head (and do) when passing a Black Man sitting in the subway asking for money. And Blacks? Come on. You hate this guy. He's a fucking Oreo Cookie and will suck your money from your pockets, betray everything you've worked for and smile while he shits in your coffee and tells you it's whipped cream.
He is bad. Bush was stupid. This Man is EVIL. He's Nixon in Blackface. Mark my words. If you think this is history, wait. Wait until you see what He does with His power...
I don't even give a fuck what your response to this is, because somewhere in your sould, you know I'm right. The harder you deny it, the more it shows.
He's dirty Chicago politics, people. Research Chicago politics. He's here. May god help us all (gos with a lower case because O is the new uppercase for the object of woship).
I hope Obama at least stops the bailouts and pulls our troops back to defend us from the next attack, due out this year. That's if he's not too busy practicing his smile in the mirror. Hail to the Prom King President!
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Friday, January 9, 2009
The Longest Blog Entry Ever (Edited with intro)
(Edit: THIS IS MY RANT. Keep your freaking self pitying, "oh me oh my, this must be about me" ego crap out of it. Respond as you see fit, but if you hurt me in any way, you'd know it. If you can't figure out if you did or not, you didn't. I'm not going to make lists so that some people can feel better about themselves. I don't want you to feel better. I want you to think. I want ME to feel better. ME. It has never been about ME, now it is.)
And probably my last for a long time, but I will look at the comments, so please feel free to respond multiple times and I'll get back to you. Maintaining a running blog, at this point for me, is poitless.
First off, as some of you know, in real life I have some clinical psychological issues. This makes it tough for me to understand and articulate what goes on in my head. It's not wholly unpleasant and sometimes downright fun, but most of the times it painful in the physical sense and upsetting socially.
I love you people, really I do. It takes a lot of courage to post about your lives like you do. I post about a fictional angry guy with a fake doctorate. I like to insult wewcomers to see if they can take a joke. Many many many of you have passed that (admittedly childish) test.
Now, I've gotten to the point where I have nothing left to write except truly hurtful mockery and sarcastic crap which will no doubt fit right in with my usual show. But the intent has changed. I'm not full of joking angst anymore. I've grown nihilistic to a very unlikable degree and find most people are too wrapped up in their own lives to properly see my very real problem, let alone know how to try and help me.
I love the jokes about my meds, because I'm on meds. I love the jokes about my insanity because I have real psychological disorders. I especially love the jokes about 'falling off the wagon' because I've been sober for close to 2 and 1/2 years now with one minor four Guiness slip. I've quit smoking. I excercise and still... Nothing has changed.
The meds, the therapy, the clean living has not helped to the degree I thought it would. Don't get me wrong, I'm going to keep going forward because it's what I want to do, but I've come to the conclusion that, even the congratulations, the sympathies, the thoughs and prayers, the encouragement are not for me. They're either obligatory responses programmed by years of television or they are self indulgent please for me not to screw up and make everyone worry again.
There are exceptions, of course. My mother and father to name two. There are about 3 others. I won't name them because if I do, those I leave off will melt into an indignant rage as say "How dare he question my concern!!!" Yeah, I do question most of your concern. Do us both a favor and just assume your one of the truly concerned or unnamed three.
And don't call me or write to me to ask if I'm okay at this point. That time is gone now and the answer is no, I'm not okay. Who is these days?
So, I've tried many plans to succeed in life and failed in all but a few. I'm still not satisfied, I still refuse to give up my dream of a tolerable existance where a person like me who can't live a hectic 21st century life will find shelter and rest. I am not quitting on my dreams.
I'm also not sharing them anymore. I can't stand to be the subject of an "I told you so" conversation anymore. You've all taught me to doubt myself (with exceptions again, of course, some of you have been more than supportive). I'm through with all that. I'm going to live how I want on my terms and help where I can and ignore the emotional leeches and human anchors that have attached themselves to me. I'm not abandoning anyone. I still love you all. I'm just not going to listen to a bunch of bullshit that makes me feel like the bad guy so that someone else can feel good, justified, correct or complete by thrusting their selfish ego driven crap onto my life and my actions.
Liberacion!
End.
And probably my last for a long time, but I will look at the comments, so please feel free to respond multiple times and I'll get back to you. Maintaining a running blog, at this point for me, is poitless.
First off, as some of you know, in real life I have some clinical psychological issues. This makes it tough for me to understand and articulate what goes on in my head. It's not wholly unpleasant and sometimes downright fun, but most of the times it painful in the physical sense and upsetting socially.
I love you people, really I do. It takes a lot of courage to post about your lives like you do. I post about a fictional angry guy with a fake doctorate. I like to insult wewcomers to see if they can take a joke. Many many many of you have passed that (admittedly childish) test.
Now, I've gotten to the point where I have nothing left to write except truly hurtful mockery and sarcastic crap which will no doubt fit right in with my usual show. But the intent has changed. I'm not full of joking angst anymore. I've grown nihilistic to a very unlikable degree and find most people are too wrapped up in their own lives to properly see my very real problem, let alone know how to try and help me.
I love the jokes about my meds, because I'm on meds. I love the jokes about my insanity because I have real psychological disorders. I especially love the jokes about 'falling off the wagon' because I've been sober for close to 2 and 1/2 years now with one minor four Guiness slip. I've quit smoking. I excercise and still... Nothing has changed.
The meds, the therapy, the clean living has not helped to the degree I thought it would. Don't get me wrong, I'm going to keep going forward because it's what I want to do, but I've come to the conclusion that, even the congratulations, the sympathies, the thoughs and prayers, the encouragement are not for me. They're either obligatory responses programmed by years of television or they are self indulgent please for me not to screw up and make everyone worry again.
There are exceptions, of course. My mother and father to name two. There are about 3 others. I won't name them because if I do, those I leave off will melt into an indignant rage as say "How dare he question my concern!!!" Yeah, I do question most of your concern. Do us both a favor and just assume your one of the truly concerned or unnamed three.
And don't call me or write to me to ask if I'm okay at this point. That time is gone now and the answer is no, I'm not okay. Who is these days?
So, I've tried many plans to succeed in life and failed in all but a few. I'm still not satisfied, I still refuse to give up my dream of a tolerable existance where a person like me who can't live a hectic 21st century life will find shelter and rest. I am not quitting on my dreams.
I'm also not sharing them anymore. I can't stand to be the subject of an "I told you so" conversation anymore. You've all taught me to doubt myself (with exceptions again, of course, some of you have been more than supportive). I'm through with all that. I'm going to live how I want on my terms and help where I can and ignore the emotional leeches and human anchors that have attached themselves to me. I'm not abandoning anyone. I still love you all. I'm just not going to listen to a bunch of bullshit that makes me feel like the bad guy so that someone else can feel good, justified, correct or complete by thrusting their selfish ego driven crap onto my life and my actions.
Liberacion!
End.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Hello
I'm going to reveal the secret now.
A short preamble. This is the ancient and accepted secret that was hidden and will now be revealed to all of humanity:
You are God.
A short preamble. This is the ancient and accepted secret that was hidden and will now be revealed to all of humanity:
You are God.
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