So here we go i have four stories. I will tell them one after the other. In the extended portion of this entry i will tell the details behind the stories. The details are unimportant. The stories i will tell are stories that are not original. They really occured in one form or another. The truth is there. (remember i’m transposing most of this from a source listed int he Extended Entry section. Mainly i am awestruck by the sheer measure of the situation and put this before you, placing you in the position of reactionary.)

Story One: The Subway.
You step on the subway right outside the staten island ferryt and head up town. Your on the 1 line heading to times square, which is on the 42nd street stop. As you pass the chambers street a curious occupant steps aboard. He is wearing what appears to be a three piece suit, yet he is missing a piece. Namely he is missing his pants. The subway continues down the path and and at the next stop, another pantless individual steps aboard. The people around you giggle. A few stare, and avert their eyes. Moments pass and stop after stop, more pantless individuals step aboard your car. Some comedic moments are shared between the pantless and panted occupants but the absurdity of the situation is never brought up. Finally at 33rd street a vendor walks on board. The vendor begins selling these pantless individuals, their much needed clothing- pants. Slowly the crowd dissipates as though nothing absurd went on.

Story Two: Starbucks, the true end of the universe.
After purchasing your coffee you sit down to look at this book that has been newly acquired from the local Straume’s discount bookstore. After reading the first page you get restless and scan your surroundings. Some cute people are sitting around you and a few that you assume to be college students. You overhear a conversation coming from the line formed near the counter. One voice you hear cut across the room is the voice of a young woman clearly stating, “I can’t believe you’re doing this.” You watch as she darts out of line and out of the door with the distressed husband calling after her, “Come back!… Come back here!… Katie!” Returning to your book you hear the melody of the entertainer floating through the air. Moments pass by and you hear the chorus of “shiny happy people” being blasted by this guy as he cuts across the starbuck’s room. A sneeze echoes across the room and you decide to say, “gazunheit” because your nice like that. (don’t knock it i could make you an asshole if i wanted)

You get halfway down the page and you hear distinctly the following dialogue:
Girl: Stop!
Boy: You promised you would never smoke around me.
Girl: I’m not!
Boy: You promised you wouldn’t let me see these. (tries to snatch them again.)
Girl: I can’t believe you’re doing this!
Boy: (yelling) Come back!… Come back here!… Katie!
As the door closes you hear the entertainer tune cutting across the room. You catch a guy standing up and crossing toward the bathroom and then sitting back down. The man holding the boombox crosses the store with the chorus to “Shiny Happy People” playing, and a sneeze occurs again followed moments later by the clearing of a throat.

Putting the book down you see the couple walk back in and take up position in the line in front of the counter. In the corner of your eye you see a guy spill his coffee and walk to the island for napkins and clean up his mess. Meanwhile you hear the conversation between the man and woman begin:
Boy: You can’t smoke in here, Katie.
Girl: I’m not smoking. I’m just getting my phone.
Boy: Give me those (tries to snatch the pack)
Girl: Stop!
Boy: You promised you would never smoke around me.
Girl: I’m not!
Boy: You promised you wouldn’t let me see these. (tries to snatch them again.)
Girl: I can’t believe you’re doing this!
Boy: (yelling) Come back!… Come back here!… Katie!
As the door shuts again the Entertainer begins his little rag and you notice it coming from this young male student’s cell phone. The man who needed to use the bathroom stands up again, knocks into another individual and stands in line. After a few moments he gives up sits down and states to the person next to him that the line is too long. The dancing boombox comes back through playing the same god damn chorus. As the boombox exits, a guy with an ESPN magazine sneezes then clears his throat.

Closing the book you watch as the young couple enters the door again. You hear mumbles around you from individuals recognizing the same thing your recognizing. Cue the fight, the coffee being spilled, the entertainer, the bathroom, the shiny happy people, then the cough and cleared throat. All this occurs in the course of five minutes. AFter a few moments you see it repeated again. AFter the sixth time of repetition people go from amusement to bewilderment. Individuals begin to acknowledge that they are all seeing this, and not just individual hallucinations. By the ninth time you see people predicting the course of events. By the twelth it is a game to the people inside the starbucks.

And then it stops. Nothing else happens. You are left with nothing but a memory. The couple has vanished. No Boombox dancer. You are left with just a starbucks. You recognize though that people are still repeating their actions, only in their minimal methods.. sip sip sip…. read read turn page.. read read turn page… minor deviations.. sneeze, cough… smile… looped….

Story Three: Your Big Night
You are the lead singer in brand new band who has released very local hits and decide to go on tour. You have several scheduled dates around manhattan but the last date scheduled in a long string of tour dates happens to fall on a sunday. You think that there will be few people there, specially since there are usually few people at your other gigs. Your not heartbroken, you are a new sound and people just haven’t heard your band play that much. As you stand outside as the opening band plays, you see the audience is only numbering three. You feel weak and tired and don’t really want to play, but you must.

So as your backstage getting ready you hear an unusual amount of sound arising from the audience. Clapping and cheering. It sounds unusually loud for only three people. You peak out and notice that there around 28 people in the crowd. Unreal you think to yourself. The band walks out on stage and the crowd goes insane. As your playing the first song, you notice they are singing along to the lyrics. You just are bewildered by the whole scene. After the first scene you turn to the drummer who is as bewildered as you. You really get into the next song and feed off of the audience’s energy. As you play the audience gets wilder and wilder. Several screams for requests ring from the audience, requests for songs that you understood to be seriously unknown by the general public. Toward the end of the set an audience member jumps on stage and begins hugging the guitarist whispering “thank you” in his ear. The set ends and you walk off stage to hear them request an encore. An encore from an audience for a band who used all of their good songs in the main set. Not deterred you return to the stage and give them the encore they want. It was a beautiful night and you feed off of the energy. As you begin packing up your instruments you notice the audience gradually thinning. And in a matter of seconds the audience is gone. No one is left. The band is alone. The first phrase uttered is, “what the fuck was that all about” as the guitarist lights his cigarette.

Story Four: Unknown birthday.
You walk into your local bar after attending class and buy a pint with an old friend of yours. You sit in a secluded part of the bar just to talk about a couple art projects your working on. Out of nowhere a young man walks up and tells you happy birthday. During this long conversation he continually references you as Ted. He also gives you a very expensive gift certificate to best buy. You calmly explain that you are not ted and there is an uneasy quiet. He smiles and says of course you are, then begins to explain how you and he went to college together and he never forgets a face. Bewildered you explain meekly that you are not ted and it isn’t your birthday. Three more people show up and wish you, ted, a happy birthday. They all reference memories of a past you remember nothing of. You whip out your wallet and show id thinking that this will finally get you out of this emberrasing mess since for all you know ted could be in the bar or walk into the bar and find you stealing all his presents. After awkward conversations pass you see them not giving up on calling you ted. your friend vanishes and your left alone with this group that keeps growing exponentially. Every attempt to correct them of their mistaken identity fails. hours tick by and stories continue to be shared and alcohol is consumed. They feed you drink after drink and suddenly you see them bring out a cake. You feel them eyeing you as you blow out a cake for someone you know isn’t you. Then it happens. You begin to doubt your own identity. How can thirty five people be wrong about your identity? How can you be the only one on earth thinking you are john when everyone else demands your ted. Time passes. Alcohol is consumed. By the third hour of the night you slip and don’t deny being ted. Nothing happens and the party gets more livelier. You play pool with these people, you accept their drinks, you listen to their stories, and you even start to agree with them because it takes too long to argue with them at this point. Ted isn’t showing up, and you figure what the hell. The night continues to go on further and you realize that your drinking more then you should. You single out a cute girl from you ‘past’ and you recognize that this girl might be interested in you. You ask her to your place later tonight for a smoke. She looks a bit worried, and but she says we will see. And the night gets wilder. You don’t remember much that happens after this.

What you do remember is that you wake up the next morning in your bed with the collection of gift certificates labeled for Ted. You think to yoruself, “i’m not ted.” You talk to a friend about it and come up with an analogy. You are like Tom Cruise waking up after Eyes Wide shut. You see the mask which tells you it wasn’t just a dream, but you really wish it were because you have no method of rationalization for what just happened.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

And so what do these four stories have in common?
(more…)

the biggest negative part of this work is the stress. The social stress. My mind is physically divided between two worlds, one of academia and two of potential or actual work. While resting for thirty minutes the phone rang. Apparently none of the backwards jackasses who work for the company were near the phone to pick it up. They were doing “things”. Things defined as objects not related to their job, i.e. working on their car, watching tv, sleeping, not on the yard etc.

So as i was working on my metaphysics paper, the phone rings. I’m the lowest person on the totem pole, so answering the phone is not really one of my responsibilities. In fact answering the phone could get me in trouble because i’m not technically an M.I. employee. And yet this is all trivial, because when it comes down to the truth, my responsibilities include
-anything they tell me to do…
-anything they neglected to tell me to do but intended to have told me to do…
-and any possible problem within their own beady little minds…

So why am i angry that i got chewed out left and right about not answering the phone, it is that their argument was formulated as follows.

P1: The phone rang four times.
P2: I was in the general vicinity of a phone.
P3: Common Sense* dictates that you answer a phone if no one is around.
P4: I did not answer the phone.
P5: Ergo i do not have common sense.

Common sense has always been a mystery to me as to its ontological origins. The stratification within our society happens to distribute the ability to recognize common sense situations on the lower portions of our society and often neglects granting this ability to people on the top of our societal distribution.

I think the above is a myth believed in situations where decisions have to be made quickly and without individualized thought. In fact, i think that there are two kinds of people in the world. The first kind is the person who actively analysises everything around him, and the other kind is the person who gives his individuality to society as a whole. both kinds of course are ideals. No one human finds himself completly centered in one ideal. We all exist as a blend of percentages between the two areas. This is common sense, it is a set of understood rules that people who are forced to live by the internal robot adopt in order to make their responses quickly and with the least amount of responses.

example of this interpretation in common parlance: You don’t have the sense to get out of the rain.

what if you enjoy standing in the rain?

I’m finished.

Or what to do graphically with a comic book, and what not to do vocally with a movie.

The movie was interesting. We got there late, but as for the movie’s sake i’m sure we missed nothing. The dialogue reeked. It was that corny testosterone laden dialogue. A few quotes from www.imdb.com:
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Dwight: It’s time to prove to your friends that you’re worth a damn. Sometimes that means dying, sometimes it means killing a whole lot of people.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Becky: Oh sugar, you just gone and done the dumbest thing in your whole life.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Jack Rafferty: Babydoll, I’ve had one bad day. I’ve been beaten up everytime I turn around.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Lucille: Settle down Marv, take another pill.
Marv: Hey! There is no settling down! This is blood for blood and by the gallons. This is the old days, the bad days, the all or nothing days. They’re back!
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Dwight: I’m Shellie’s new boyfriend, and I’m out of my mind. You ever so much as talk to Shellie again, you even think her name, and I’ll cut you in ways that’ll make you useless to a woman.
Jack Rafferty: You’re making a big mistake, pal. A big mistake.
Dwight: Yeah? You already made a big mistake yourself: You didn’t flush.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Graphically the movie was gorgeous, and violent. Mostly violent.

Oh well i suggest watching it if you can get past the horrid dialogue. There was a scene where these models were standing on the ledge raining bullets down into a crowd of men and i’m watching them thinking that they should at least try and act like they are shooting, instead of acting like they are models shooting. Then there is horrid line about how his “valkaryie” is enjoying the kill and the woman he refers to is making this god awful ugly face.

I’m analyzing the film to much. To many scenes were so bad that people were laughing at the absurdity. Maybe thats a good thing? I mean absurdity is funny sometimes.

I’m tired. Overall i enjoyed tonight. I really want to hang out with Trey and HLF again sometime.

I’m tired. Didn’t get much sleep, but i re-watched a movie that i’m growing to really enjoy. It is called Since Otar Left.
Film wise the movie isn’t revolutionary.

It was really just a beautiful movie, with some really soft and intricate scenes.

Ah well i’m not in the mood to write here. Hmm I got a serious headache.

…

I saw jon stuart last night… don’t remember much but i think i do remember it was funny. real funny.

So i enter a weekend of silence. Had an absoleutly horrible discussion with Mary tonight. Thats relationship suicide in a long distance relationship. The content is unimportant, what is important is a distinct irony.

I never thought the easiest thing in a long distance relationship would be the distance. I never concieved that it was actually the thought of getting back together. Mary and I have had a whirlwind relationship and what is more is that it has been abnormal in a good way. If Mom and Dad’s relationship has taught me anything, and Amanda and Trey’s relationship also (no offense to either), is that every relationship has it’s keystone fractures. These fractures are things that will not go away.

I know your asking, what could possibly be our fracture? normal stuff, and irrelevant to this post. Well i will let you in on a secret. I’m overly sensitive to issues and have to question every feeling i have to see if it is a valid and rational emotional, i’m a control freak who dislikes even the utterence of demand from third party, and i am also undisciplined in that directionless sort of manner. I’m an asshole to get along with.

Oh by the way don’t take this post as a, “hey lets tell Arglor what we really feel becuase he is opening himself up to it,” kind of post because it isn’t.

All the same this is probably going to be the longest weekend of my life. I’m going on silent mode. Mary and I will be incommunicato for the whole weekend. It was amicable, one party said it would be best and the other said ok.

So i go to work Saturday morning. wheeeee fun weekend for me. Can’t wait till tomorrow night and i get to see Sin City.

want to hear a joke? I need a drink ;). I’m alone ;). Looks like i don’t break my moral boundries.

All Six Feet Under Fans will be pleased to note the final season begins on Monday June 6th at 9 pm.

I’ve been without SFU for so long i don’t know what to expect.. An interesting side note is that my relationship with Mary began with Six Feet Under and for a while all our relationship consisted of was watching this show. You might remark that this sounds kind of pathetic, i remark nay friend. SFU is one of the most powerful storylines i’ve seen in a television format. It is also one of those rare things that i experienced and still can’t go back to.

My history with SFU is a long one. A year before i met Mary, i acquired* several episodes of the series because i was interested in the material. After watching them i got hooked. I acquired all of two seasons (at least the full compilation of one season and half of the second because at the time the second season was still airing on HBO.). After a week, easter holiday i believe, of intense viewing i was caught up to the storyline and began watching them as they occured on HBO. One of the most seriously fucked up weeks of my life, and yet also a very memorable one. Later on i met Mary.

The third “date” involved her coming over to my house on st. Thomas and we cooked, rode bikes around Lafayette, visited my turtle in the park, and retired to my home to watch SFU episodes 1,2, and 3. After this intense session, she left.

The forth “date” involved me going to her apartment and demonstrating murphy’s law by having a computer snafu fail to allow my computer screen to be translated into television display. (murphy’s law says that what can go wrong will go wrong, but in my family’s case it appears that what can go wrong with electronics on the moment you most need the electronics, will go wrong.) After buying an insanely expensive piece of equipment that proved to be more then worth it’s weight in money, we watched episodes 4,5,6, and 7.

After that night our dates pretty much consisted of watching the six feet under series up until her birthday, which falls on april 12th, when i demanded our relationship branch off into Film. You can imagine the chemistry building at this moment.

The layout was like this, up until her birthday, we spent a lot of time together but i never stayed the night. As luck would have it, Mary’s birthday falls during the night. I asked her if she would mind having me spend her birthday with her. She was flattered that i felt it was as special as it was. All the same, My plan was simple. I had to get our relationship off of SFU and watching Film because i enjoyed films too much.

Some might argue this ice had already been breached because we went out to the theater sometimes, but i argue that modern theatrical productions are not all that consist of film. (even though we did see Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind in the theater. Not to mention we watched Lost in Translation and Harold and Maude[which i must give Mary credit for choosing, i had not even heard of this movie {but it still wasn’t a complete breakthrough in film, and it was on our second date, ergo it doesn’t count. (what does one do when one has so many parenthetical groupings? it is parenthetical groupings that this is called right? [In symbolic logic when you have this many parenthesis groping symbols, you actually recycle them])}]). Now where was I.

So back to the B-Day extraveganza.
The agenda fell into this outline:
– April 11th I dropped by around 5 or 6ish. I had defined the night as a night to explore the concept of Beauty, + a film i had the inclination she would hate but i wanted her to see one aspect of my film enjoyment that involved something other the beauty.
— First movie — Big Fish — A beautiful story about truth and the distortions that make up the realities of our great story-tellers. In short i can simply define it as storytelling at it’s best.
— Second movie — Waking Life — A beautiful film. The content is engaging, and the ideas expressed in the film are thought-provoking, but those aspects of the movie are no better and sometimes not even as good as some other films i have seen. The movie is gorgeous because of the technique behind the film’s creation. The director took a camera and filmed various sequences, and then went back and painted the film to make it seem as though you are watching a series of painted scenes instead of a movie.
— Third Movie — The Seventh Seal — It was either this or Persona, but i think the idea behind the Seventh Seal is a lot more beautiful, at least a lot more universal. The Seventh Seal is the story of a knight who comes back from the crusades to find his lands battling the black plague. The story is a beautiful portrayal of humanity at its best. The knight plays a game of chess with death in order to prolongue his death and also attempt to save the lives of those that he travels with. Ingrid Bergman directs this, and if you are at all familiar with his directing technique you know that the film is at least a beautiful example of what film can do.

This was the final movie. My plan for adding this movie was that i really honestly believed at the time that this movie has a great fucking scene in it. After watching the movie with Mary though, i have come to realize i overestimated the scene in the movie.
— Fourth movie — 25th hour — Spike Lee directed Edward norton in this movie. I still enjoy the movie, but there were two scenes i thought were gorgeous. The first scene is when Edward Norton retires to his father’s restroom and unleashes his rage about the world. The scene best portrayed my reaction to 9-11. At the time of the incident, i was depressed at the whole situation. After some analysis of my emotions i came to the conclusion that i was angry at not only the people who would commit such an atrocious act, but at our government for giving them the anger and rigetous fury to pull such an act off. I imagined myself standing before a mirror and yelling obsceneties at these various groups of individuals in which i felt were responsible for these atrocities. The groups were meaningless, but at the brief moment in which i felt this, i came to realize that i’m also angry that i allow our government to get away with these acts. Anyway, i found it very characteristic of my feelings from 9-11. I had also just watched this film and therefore it was still new in my mind. The second scene is the final scene of the movie, where this guy is being taken to jail and there is a fade into what his life could be if he were to run from the punishment of his actions. That story scene is beautiful in it’s own way. Needless to say Mary hated this movie.

After we were to watch these movies we where to walk down to the baton rouge river and watch the sun rise. On our way back we would stop at the bakery for some breakfast and then we would retire to her apartment and take a nap.

We would then head to my Grandmother’s house and have a picknic next to the river there. I showed her around in the woods. Then we ate supper with my parents, and all the awkwardness that entails due to our relationship’s brief existence. You might ask, “After only one month of knowing each other you invite her to meet your parents?” and i would say, “Yes.” You don’t really know my parents, and due to time constraints I felt as though certain things should be followed via the emotional core of my being and not the rational logical side of my brain. My rational side has me taking Metaphysics.

My rational side doesn’t like me.

We would then retire to Mary’s house in BR where we would actually begin (or maybe end? not exactly sure.) season 2 of six feet under.

Plans Fail. 😉

We only watched Waking Life, 25th hour, and The Seventh Seal. I couldn’t get big fish to run on my laptop. We did go to my parent’s land in Bancker, but it was later then we planned, because we napped for way to long. We did not see the sun rise because of the above excuse. We did not get to the bakery because of the above excuse.

In the end, Our general rule about plans is as follows: Work hard to figure them out, and add intricate careful details to make them unique. Then blunder through them with the carefree lackadaisical attitude associated with life, this way we can qualify as careless and yet methodical. How many times have we planned to watch movies and failed in that aspect.

Roshomon and Wild strawberries are good movies i hear.
(more…)

Glenn Miller’s “In the Mood,” Edward R. Murrow’s wartime broadcasts from London and Nirvana’s seminal grunge rock album Nevermind are recognized as important recordings by the Library of Congress. -NPR.org

Glenn Miller’s “In the Mood” is so old to be added just now. Specially since Nirvana is added. Could we say Nirvana created an artistic work? “In the Mood” is recognized as an important song from jazz, and one of Glenn Miller’s better recognized.

i’m bored… playing text message tag with Mary…

i have a lot of stuff i need to do, just not a lot of material to do them with…

So there i am sitting on the corner of rex and St. Mary with Trey talking about philosophical matters when i see Scnaars and Graden heading down the street. As they get closer i see them cut off into the parking lot of follets and lose them. Apparently they did not see me. Apparently they didn’t even walk to the corner of Rex street, but fine i’m a better man. I ate lunch with Trey.

In other news about individuals who are my friends… 😉

HLF and I watched a movie yesterday called Infernal Affairs. It was a very interesting film. It was the jappanese interpretation of a cop drama. It was a very beautifully told story. The story follows two characters through their life. And there is this symetry of storytelling that holds very well. During the tale there were two spies in both camps, the police force and the triad gang. They worked off of each other during the breadth of the storyline in a very symmetrical fashion.

HLF and I got into a discussion about movie imports and how we tend to get branded version of movies.

My idea is that the movie industry of america filters out the various movies we recieve from other countries, at least in respect to popular films.
Brief generalization
1) Britain crime flicks (shifting scenes, rapid cuts, etc.)
—-Any Guy Richie film
—-Millions
2) British comedy films
—-Monty Python of course
—-Full Monty
3) China Martial Arts Films
—-Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon
—-Hero
—-Kung fu hustle
4) Jappanese Anime (this is the only category that is completly original to this coutnry)
—-I can list tons, but i’m sure you recognize anime for anime.

Anyways my point is that if you don’t search for films of another country, this is the products your going to recieve from the basic filter.

My argument is weak, but i’m thinking i can take it further to suggest that we are imprinting stereotypical images onto other cultures. If you are from china, you must know martial arts right? If your british you should be funny eh?

I wonder how many people believe these unconsciously. Who knows i might be completely off base here.

I am absoleutly positive about this though, every culture approaches art in a different manner.

Infernal affairs is playing at bayou bijou and i think HLF wants to go see it tomorrow night.. i think i will join him… it looks interesting… (leave a comment when you want to meet HLF)

I will see Sin City Wednesday or Friday with Trey. Either is fine for me.

I saw Steamboy and Millions in New York. Both were horribly dissappointing as to what they could be. Millions was a better movie then Steamboy in film quality.

Steamboy, from the director of akira. Imagine Akira set in the past during the scientific revolution of the steam engine and all the possible advances from that. Then imagine that you can create a nuclear bomb from steam. (or something similar) Add bad dialogue. add pathetic ideological intrigue… and you have the movie… Absoluetly gorgeous though.

Millions is movie about a child who gets access to millions of dollars of currency that he has to spend before they become worthless. You see it occurs in britain and the pound is being subplanted for the Euro. They are transfering the funds over and on the way to getting burned a bag of a million or so pounds falls off the train into the child’s hands. SO! Since he can see Saints (beautiful part of the film and yet it also gives rise to the ethical dillemma in my head with alligning right with divine good) all around him he attempts to help everyone out who he can. Donating money to mormons, homeless peoples, and even digging some wells in an african town that needs water due to a drought.

Of course a child spending all this money attracts attention. There is intrigue and even this kewl crime flick part. Overall though the content was weak and the story was a little difficult to take. The good things about the movie is that there were parts very schnazzy edited scenes, and the music was enjoyable. It was fast paced and i was not bored in the least. In the end though the movie was just not written well as a story. Dialogue was fine, but story sucked ass. I did enjoy the Saints, even it if was an appeal to flawed ethical system.
Quick dialogue clip after the child learns that the money isn’t from God but instead from thieves attempting to rob the state.
-Son “Dad its wrong. ”
-Father “Who says it is wrong?”
-Son “GOD!”

oh well i’m stalling… i just don’t want to work anymore on my paper.

i’m home.. and i’m wiped out… so an already stressed sleep cycle was kicked in the balls last night by spring day light savings time. I went to sleep at 1:00 to wake up at 5:00 and noticed i only had around 3 hours of sleep.. On the plane i think of how much i’m going to sleep when i get home before cranking out the last of my paper.

Then i get home. 12:20… or 11:20 if your going by the old time which i prefer… i begin pecking away at the keyboard reworking 75% of my first five pages and notice it is 3:32.. 2:32 and i’m falling asleep at the keyboard. so i come on here to attempt to wake up….

this is not good. I can’t explain Lakoff in an objective fashion. He uses such biased rhetoric in his writing it is so fucking annoying.

It is funny, i never thought i’d see a scientist who appears to be so angry at the non-scientific academic community for making claims that he believes are unsupported and then goes on a gallavanting run about how bad they are as individuals… it is also sad by the way.