Sure, we all lie from time to time. Hell, I lie a lot. What I've been seeing lately is the casual way in which a liar performs. Let's just say, for example, your mailbox gst batted around by a few kids on your street. You see it happen.
They deny it.
You say you saw them.
They deny it.
You go to the parents, and they lie for the kids.
And it's not just wanna be punks tearing up a bunch of shit. Look at our president. Look at Hillary saying she was ducking sniper fire in Kosovo. Abd Barama playing the I Don't Agree With My Pastor nonsense.
Athletes caught with needle in their ass would look sincerely confused and ask if you stuck that in his ass.
People lie at work. They lie to get work. They lie when the fire people.
Here's the skinny sample folks. Lying is for important things like when your girl asks you if she's getting fat. Or, lying at any time to gain control over the TV remote.
Let's not forget the ladies! The either fake a headache or an orgasm. Yes, dear sirs, keep believing her when she says you're the BIGGEST she's ever had. We men might be tempted to declare that everything a woman says is lies. That's not fair. They don't know they're lying. They honestly believe all that crap they whine about.
I made up a bunch of lies to tell in court, like 'I am the early reincarnated James Earl Jones' and 'I'll be right back for my sentencing, your honor'.
So, what have we learned? Never lie for the wrong reasons.
Friday, April 11, 2008
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
You've Heard of Freedom
Let me clue you halfwits in on the real agenda. You are not free. America is a wonderful country and maybe the best place to live in the world, but you are not free.
There's an upside to this. No one else here is free either. Keeps the crazies in line, eh?
The only freedom you have is in your own mind. I'm reminded of Shawshank Redemtion. Andy Dufrene survived solitary confinement by thinking and remembering pieces of music. They can break your body, your will, your emotions, but not your mind. ONLY if you let them.
We also have a reasonable measure of free speech. My point, I'd like a few of you to take a crack at letting the real thoughts out on your blog. Fuck your persona and write something.
There's an upside to this. No one else here is free either. Keeps the crazies in line, eh?
The only freedom you have is in your own mind. I'm reminded of Shawshank Redemtion. Andy Dufrene survived solitary confinement by thinking and remembering pieces of music. They can break your body, your will, your emotions, but not your mind. ONLY if you let them.
We also have a reasonable measure of free speech. My point, I'd like a few of you to take a crack at letting the real thoughts out on your blog. Fuck your persona and write something.
Friday, April 4, 2008
I Hate All Forms of Entertainment
I can only take so much. Bad shows are painful to watch. Good shows are all cliffhanger shows with no end. Movies don't last long enough. Music is all recycled and if it's not, it's such a tease because you only get 12 songs every two years or so. Video games do not have enough freedom of choice and their spinoffs or their online games infested with foul mouthed kids and geeks.
Entertainment is designed as an escape. It dulls the mind and quiets the angry heart for a time. So, eat the cud, you entertainment cows and forget that you wanted to do something in your life besides laugh at cock jokes and shoot aliens played by unknown fatties with broadband and a fridge of coke.
Screw everything else. Let's be happy and dumb. Let's worry about gas prices and greenhouse gases, and forget ourselves and what we once promised ourselves. Fuck it. Read blogs and visit you tube and google your own name and find... maybe one small blurb.
Or write your own blog and play at being a celebrity, all the while looking to your list of replies to inflate your warped sense of self importance. You could have been important, but you decided you'd rather be sedated.
Now, life consist of reaching for the next material plateau only to want more. Good job, everyone. Good job. Mighty proud.
That being said, the season premiere of Battlestar Galactica was on tonight. AWESOME.
But, I watch it for the commercials. How else would I know what to like?
Entertainment is designed as an escape. It dulls the mind and quiets the angry heart for a time. So, eat the cud, you entertainment cows and forget that you wanted to do something in your life besides laugh at cock jokes and shoot aliens played by unknown fatties with broadband and a fridge of coke.
Screw everything else. Let's be happy and dumb. Let's worry about gas prices and greenhouse gases, and forget ourselves and what we once promised ourselves. Fuck it. Read blogs and visit you tube and google your own name and find... maybe one small blurb.
Or write your own blog and play at being a celebrity, all the while looking to your list of replies to inflate your warped sense of self importance. You could have been important, but you decided you'd rather be sedated.
Now, life consist of reaching for the next material plateau only to want more. Good job, everyone. Good job. Mighty proud.
That being said, the season premiere of Battlestar Galactica was on tonight. AWESOME.
But, I watch it for the commercials. How else would I know what to like?
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
The Bullshit
Someone wanted me to write a whole post on drinking the Kool Aid. I don't think any of you can handle the real drink, the hard stuff. No, my world in this end of the blog slums is couched in a laugh it off sort of angst that the original Boston comedians like Lenny Clarke and Tony V used to espouse. It fuck you, fuck your mother and fuck your whole family including your dead dog stuff.
The Kool Aid is another story.
In fact, it's such an outrageous story that I could post about it and you'd have to assume it was more made up stuff.
I don't talk about drinking the Kool Aid. I've got family and friends that I need to protect from that story. I'm not embarassed of anything I've said, seen or done, but they don't need to know about it. I'm in a safe place now and I feel alright. I'm pretty healthy, and that's a wonder in and of itself.
Some of you older folk might get the idea. I'm a lusty 34 years old, still a pup to most. But don't we all know how some years last longer than others. I've seen and done more in my short life than I had the right to expect and I'm still living. In fact, I do pretty well. I'm still as dumb as I ever was when it comes to taking risks, but thankfully, most of those risks don't get the chance to walk past my doorstep.
I was never a bad ass, but I did drink the Kool Aid. Sometimes by choice. Much of the writing I've done comes from a seed of experience. I never write under my own name or even under the name of Dr. Murk. I'll tell you this. Some of my writing has scared the people who read it. Not because it was scary but because they saw it wasn't fiction. I know a few situations well enough that fictionalizing them isn't necessary. All I have to do is get some schmuck to ghost write. I make these pen pals up, but their names always come from somewhere.
Unfortunately, I, Dr. Robert J. Murk cannot tell you about drinking the Kool Aid. My master can and, due to the fact that he has finally settled on a book project in which the Kool Aid is served and drunk, I will restrict my posts here to absolute bullshit for the time being (as if they weren't already).
So, enjoy a few of the old stories on the other blogs and the web comics of Malach based on some of those stories. They may not be Kool Aid, but they will be enough to give you a recipe to make your own.
Also, as boring as this sounds, I will be updating the progress of my master's book project via Christopher Morris. So, go pay him a visit. He's taking a short break from fiction to help our master write what he needs to write. You asked us to.
More later...
The Kool Aid is another story.
In fact, it's such an outrageous story that I could post about it and you'd have to assume it was more made up stuff.
I don't talk about drinking the Kool Aid. I've got family and friends that I need to protect from that story. I'm not embarassed of anything I've said, seen or done, but they don't need to know about it. I'm in a safe place now and I feel alright. I'm pretty healthy, and that's a wonder in and of itself.
Some of you older folk might get the idea. I'm a lusty 34 years old, still a pup to most. But don't we all know how some years last longer than others. I've seen and done more in my short life than I had the right to expect and I'm still living. In fact, I do pretty well. I'm still as dumb as I ever was when it comes to taking risks, but thankfully, most of those risks don't get the chance to walk past my doorstep.
I was never a bad ass, but I did drink the Kool Aid. Sometimes by choice. Much of the writing I've done comes from a seed of experience. I never write under my own name or even under the name of Dr. Murk. I'll tell you this. Some of my writing has scared the people who read it. Not because it was scary but because they saw it wasn't fiction. I know a few situations well enough that fictionalizing them isn't necessary. All I have to do is get some schmuck to ghost write. I make these pen pals up, but their names always come from somewhere.
Unfortunately, I, Dr. Robert J. Murk cannot tell you about drinking the Kool Aid. My master can and, due to the fact that he has finally settled on a book project in which the Kool Aid is served and drunk, I will restrict my posts here to absolute bullshit for the time being (as if they weren't already).
So, enjoy a few of the old stories on the other blogs and the web comics of Malach based on some of those stories. They may not be Kool Aid, but they will be enough to give you a recipe to make your own.
Also, as boring as this sounds, I will be updating the progress of my master's book project via Christopher Morris. So, go pay him a visit. He's taking a short break from fiction to help our master write what he needs to write. You asked us to.
More later...
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Parenting
Does Dr. Murk have children? No. Not that I'm aware of. I don't care if you think this disqualifies me from giving a little parenting advice. Okay, I do care. But trust me. I'm qualified.
Todays topic: Self Esteem.
It's wonderful when kids feel good about themselves for their acheivements.
It's not wonderful to place esteem over safety, good socialization skills, preparedness for life and the law.
You CANNOT keep telling kids that you'll love them no matter how bad they get. You can say it a few times when they screw up. You can tell them that at any time you want EXCEPT when they do something bad. And I'm talking about the little things here. If a kid swears at an adult in the grocery store, you MUST correct that behavior firmly, not with hugs and loves. NO.
Kids have parents for a reason. They are kids. They don't think beyond immediate behaviors. If bad behaviors are met with excuses, covering for them, hugging them or sing song chats about always being a good kid, they will repeat the behavior. The will find the consequences acceptable and think YOU condone them.
When a child is upset, it hurts the parent. Don't be selfish and assuage your hurt at the expense of their future.
Teach them self respect. Respect is not gained by accepting bad behavior. Respectable people don't act like that. They value true success and correct action. If a child learns that they can always respect themselves if they do the right thing and that they SHOULD feel upset and even a bit ashamed if they don't live up to standards that society expects from them.
This is learned from parents. Parents who don't let their own selfish need for approval from a child. A child should look for the parent's approval. That's how a long term appreciation for respecting other people, authority figures, and themselves.
Do some parents go way too far hounding and pushing their kids? YES. You're an adult and should be able to figure out when to scold and when to praise. You are the adult. You set the parameters and expectations. The child should not hold you hostage for emotional approval from them.
Why am I writing this? Most of you are excellent parents. No need to interfere.
Well, yeah I should interfere because this campaign of misinformation that if we don't make kids happy all the time they'll become crazy is getting out of hand. Someone had to say it. So...
I said it.
Quit spoiling kids.
The rest of us have to deal with them and their fucked up life view once they leave your house.
Todays topic: Self Esteem.
It's wonderful when kids feel good about themselves for their acheivements.
It's not wonderful to place esteem over safety, good socialization skills, preparedness for life and the law.
You CANNOT keep telling kids that you'll love them no matter how bad they get. You can say it a few times when they screw up. You can tell them that at any time you want EXCEPT when they do something bad. And I'm talking about the little things here. If a kid swears at an adult in the grocery store, you MUST correct that behavior firmly, not with hugs and loves. NO.
Kids have parents for a reason. They are kids. They don't think beyond immediate behaviors. If bad behaviors are met with excuses, covering for them, hugging them or sing song chats about always being a good kid, they will repeat the behavior. The will find the consequences acceptable and think YOU condone them.
When a child is upset, it hurts the parent. Don't be selfish and assuage your hurt at the expense of their future.
Teach them self respect. Respect is not gained by accepting bad behavior. Respectable people don't act like that. They value true success and correct action. If a child learns that they can always respect themselves if they do the right thing and that they SHOULD feel upset and even a bit ashamed if they don't live up to standards that society expects from them.
This is learned from parents. Parents who don't let their own selfish need for approval from a child. A child should look for the parent's approval. That's how a long term appreciation for respecting other people, authority figures, and themselves.
Do some parents go way too far hounding and pushing their kids? YES. You're an adult and should be able to figure out when to scold and when to praise. You are the adult. You set the parameters and expectations. The child should not hold you hostage for emotional approval from them.
Why am I writing this? Most of you are excellent parents. No need to interfere.
Well, yeah I should interfere because this campaign of misinformation that if we don't make kids happy all the time they'll become crazy is getting out of hand. Someone had to say it. So...
I said it.
Quit spoiling kids.
The rest of us have to deal with them and their fucked up life view once they leave your house.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
The Magic of Spring
It is Easter Sunday.
And so I am reminded of weddings. The best wedding I've ever been to was my brother Malach's. The second best was Conan the Barbarian's.
Conan wore the skins of the Conqueror, his finest attire. The bride, dragged down the aisle in golden chains and a barely covering loincloth, screamed in delight. The cleric was the wild mage Chupa, who sung songs to Crom and made the cake explode. The crowd jeered until Conan spoke.
"Shut up, worms!" he shouted. The rowdy band of theives and brigands hushed to hear the lovely vows, prepared by Conan himself.
"Me, Conan," Conan said, "Take you, Slavegirl." She wimpered her agreement.
Then, Conan was attacked by the Evil Queen Hecca and the flesh devouring spirits she commanded. He fought bravely, but sadly, slavegirl was eaten.
"SLAVEGIRL!!!!" Conan screamed, but she was gone. Never to return to him except in one brief moment when she would cryptically ask "Do you want to live forever?"
To which Conan replied, "I do."
Amazing wedding. Can't wait until the sequel.
And so I am reminded of weddings. The best wedding I've ever been to was my brother Malach's. The second best was Conan the Barbarian's.
Conan wore the skins of the Conqueror, his finest attire. The bride, dragged down the aisle in golden chains and a barely covering loincloth, screamed in delight. The cleric was the wild mage Chupa, who sung songs to Crom and made the cake explode. The crowd jeered until Conan spoke.
"Shut up, worms!" he shouted. The rowdy band of theives and brigands hushed to hear the lovely vows, prepared by Conan himself.
"Me, Conan," Conan said, "Take you, Slavegirl." She wimpered her agreement.
Then, Conan was attacked by the Evil Queen Hecca and the flesh devouring spirits she commanded. He fought bravely, but sadly, slavegirl was eaten.
"SLAVEGIRL!!!!" Conan screamed, but she was gone. Never to return to him except in one brief moment when she would cryptically ask "Do you want to live forever?"
To which Conan replied, "I do."
Amazing wedding. Can't wait until the sequel.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Poll Shows: 7 out of 10 Americans Have No Clue
http://www.cnn.com/2008/POLITICS/03/18/poll.iraq.economy/index.html
Read it if you want, but I'll sum it up. 7 out of 10 Americans think the war in Iraq has had a negative effect on the economy. Hmmmmm. Uh. Hmmmmmm.
How? Did they explain how?
Would the government have put the money spent on the war into a magical "save the economy" account? Have we seen a tax increase for it? Is anyone buying War Bonds? Is there a steel shortage? Is the global economy based in Iraq? The banking industry gave all those bad loans and defaulted because of a protracted military engagement? It made us too sad to spend? Were we sending money over to Iraq from our bank accounts?
Ohhhhhh.... It must be gas prices. Iraq had oil so that affected prices at the pump, right? Uhhhhhh.... look at the SHINY PENNY America! You are feeling sleepy. Believe things that make no sense because the TV told you war was bad.
War is hell for the soldiers and their families and the towns it happens in. War, in general, does not cause a banking crisis. Government spending increases the viability of the economy. War spending sends money to US contractors and into the economy. Government spending on a war creates jobs. Soldiers overseas open up jobs at home. It's not nice, but it does help the economy, not hurt it.
I liked it better when we blamed global warming for everything...
Read it if you want, but I'll sum it up. 7 out of 10 Americans think the war in Iraq has had a negative effect on the economy. Hmmmmm. Uh. Hmmmmmm.
How? Did they explain how?
Would the government have put the money spent on the war into a magical "save the economy" account? Have we seen a tax increase for it? Is anyone buying War Bonds? Is there a steel shortage? Is the global economy based in Iraq? The banking industry gave all those bad loans and defaulted because of a protracted military engagement? It made us too sad to spend? Were we sending money over to Iraq from our bank accounts?
Ohhhhhh.... It must be gas prices. Iraq had oil so that affected prices at the pump, right? Uhhhhhh.... look at the SHINY PENNY America! You are feeling sleepy. Believe things that make no sense because the TV told you war was bad.
War is hell for the soldiers and their families and the towns it happens in. War, in general, does not cause a banking crisis. Government spending increases the viability of the economy. War spending sends money to US contractors and into the economy. Government spending on a war creates jobs. Soldiers overseas open up jobs at home. It's not nice, but it does help the economy, not hurt it.
I liked it better when we blamed global warming for everything...
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