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THERE ARE SHEEP IN THE CITY

Posted 15 May 2003, 9.19 pm by The Green Mamba

Let’s explore the nature of sheep.

Up until a few hundred years ago, sheep still followed the Shepherd to greener pastures. Modern day Shepherd’s however have adopted the practice of chasing the sheep … or that is what the sheep would like us to think. The truth is that, sometime during the past few hundred years, sheep have grown increasingly intelligent and have managed the art of mind transferal and while the Shepherd may think he is in charge of the sheep, he has in fact just switched roles with them. That’s right, the Shepherd no longer leads the sheep … but rather the sheep are leading the Shepherd … but not to greener pastures.

An excellent example of what I like to refer to as, SHEEP Syndrome is peak hour traffic at an intersection. The first few minutes after the light changes green is fine, but then suddenly everything comes to a standstill. Instead of keeping the intersection clear and waiting for the cars on the other side to move forward, you’ll notice as a few SHEEP move to the middle of the intersection, hoping that the light will not change before the car in front of them can move forward. Obviously the light will change at precisely that moment and prevent everybody coming from the side from moving an inch. This will continue for two to three light changes, before you eventually come across someone who does not suffer from SHEEP Syndrome, who actually stops at the line when he or she realizes that there is no point in moving forward, leaving the intersection clear. Obviously the SHEEP behind her will start hooting, because they have been separated from the rest of the herd … Baaaaa!.

Unfortunately the SHEEP syndrome does not only apply to drivers. Ever seen pedestrians waiting at an intersection? They’ll all bundle up on the edge of the sidewalk, reading, picking their noses or scratching their asses … everything except pay attention to what’s happening around them. One impatient dickhead will then suddenly decide there’s a big enough gap in the traffic to quickly hop-skip to the other side. The rest of the idiots however, aren’t paying attention and start following the dickhead, just like SHEEP. The only cool thing about this is seeing the SHEEP jump when they suddenly realize that there is a whole armada of cars charging down on them.
If you’re lucky, maybe you’ll see one of them bounce off the bulbar on a 4X4 or get splattered by a minibus cruising at twice the speed limit …

Otherwise, just feel safe in the knowledge that you have gained here today … and think about it next time you eat lamb chops. If it weren’t for the fact that butchers are actually part of a secret government organization supposedly combating the potential world domination of sheep, we would have not been in this predicament. Due to sheep’s highly developed survival skills, they are now transferring their stupidity to humans in an attempt to escape slaughter.

YOU COULD BE NEXT!

DINOSAURS STILL ROAM THE EARTH

Posted 13 May 2003, 2.02 am by firebrand

really . . .

Christian Scientists on the hunt for Dinosaurs (and other science-debunking things)

Black Cat on My Shoulder

Posted 9 May 2003, 1.07 pm by Villager

So much has changed. I had a rough idea of what I wanted to do next so I left. I didn't have much idea of what would happen but that didn't really seem important at the time. I had to get away, you understand. I couldn't stay there, I was stagnating. People and places had become so familiar as to be meaningless. I tried to hold onto the affection I remember so vividly feeling, but I wasn't allowed to. What I once felt so passively walking aimlessly around, eluded my sincerest searches. And that just left the people. The people who, some time ago, promised me my future lay with them. It seemed so natural to believe them, yet without explanation I found myself thinking very differently to how they were talking. I didn't tell them I was leaving. Not until I had to go. Leaving with no explanation was somehow easier than helping them to understand.

At first, doubts began to creep in. If anything the wider world served to confirm the darker of my suspicions and the hollow relationships I endured almost provoked me into thinking I had left something behind to come here. In a sense I did, but the elusive beauty of a nature slowly being torn apart by the advance of man is as sad as it is beautiful. Then followed a time when I allowed - encouraged, even - myself to be distracted by new ideas, new knowledge and a well rounded lifestyle. Trouble is, in the pursuit of stimulation I came no nearer to understanding.

And so, now, I find myself at best satisfied to calmly comtemplate the possibilities, and content myself with the belief that I am closer to understanding myself, if nothing more. Why I was required to change everything else just to see that I hadn't changed at all is still a mystery to me. I once thought the calm, quiet, detached place I grew up in was what I loved dearly. But now, having come so far and seen much different along the way, I realise that the beauty of an ancient village lies not in the history and the architecture, but in the striking absence of people. As that changes, though, I realise that if I cannot find enough people who understand, I'll have to go somewhere where there is at least nobody who doesn't.


Moving out was the best thing I ever did.

The Dream-Quest of Unknown Shaggy

Posted 8 May 2003, 1.32 pm by Shaggy

Greetings and salutations from my long haitus. I will, as you all have no doubt been praying for, post on a much more regular basis now that I have not school issues to worry about. Exams: how they suck and suck until there is no soul left.

At any rate, forms of contemplation have been rapidly altering for me. I suppose, upon retrospect, this is not necessarily a new thing. I discuss this maturation process rather often on the site. Perhaps I am eventually on the path to enlightenment, or perhaps I just am less of a weiner than before.

Yet, my pathways have not become closed simply because I am finished one other year at my University life. Nor am I closed off to the realm of the intellectual merely because I work at Dairy Queen, on the grill, a mindless enterprise in itself, and am going tonight for a meeting at a call centre (even more mindless). No, indeed, my pathways have not been closed, nor am I lazy enough to close them. I am not one to quit school to wonder off on some booze-filled romp. Anyone who has discussed my life goals with me knows that I am at the point of insanity with them...

I will be heard.

Long is the path, and longer still is the destination, but with ever-growing support from the world around me, and with an ever-increasing drive on my part, I will eventually succeed in my goals, and bring the world of my art into a new era. My name will go down with Shakespeare, Lermontov, Dostoyevsky, Homer, Pindar, Sophocles, Dickens, Nietzsche, Poe, Plautus, or Euripides... I will be the new Kipling, the new Stevens, Williams, or Dickenson. My name will be etched alongside Tolstoy and George Eliot, by Joyce and Fichte, Schelling and Schlleiermacher, Hegel and Balzac...

Such is my Dream-Quest, and, like many of Lovecraft's passions, mine will be a collision of old and new style, a form that will be the product of much blood, sweat, and tears.

Indeed, much has already been shed...

And so, I move on to my project list: two novels, a screenplay, poetry, and countless short stories, as well as many more front page articles for the Grinders to look forward to.

Until next time, be you at peace, my friends.

Homo sum: humani nihil a me alienum puto

Ah...the random insanity of it...

Posted 8 May 2003, 2.07 am by Strawberry

Well, here I sit, stumbling across this site again, as I look through all my various bookmarks, avoiding papers to write, tests to study, and things to pack. Why I do this? I don't know. Maybe it's because I lack motivation. It's not that my content of my classes aren't interesting. Some of them are damn interesting, with lots I can get into. It's just...well...everything seems so blah lately. The Spring-time blahs :P not quite, because I've had the "blahs" all this year. Part of it is probably separation anxiety from the friends I made before I transferred here. Part of it is probably the lack of direction I feel in my life now. 2 years ago, it was so easy, I wanted to be an architect. Last year wasn't even that bad, even though I decided architecture wasn't for me at that point in my life. I had friends, I had things to go to, I had a LIFE. I tried this year, really I did, to keep the "life" alive, but with no friends to have it with, it came to an all out flop.
So what do I plan now? Nothing concrete. Go home, work at a fast food joint, try to get to Iowa to see a friend of mine's younger sister graduate, see my younger brother graduate, and possibly run away mid-June to my friend's. Yeah, that sound like a plan to me. Possibly go to Louisiana in September, too. And move either there or Minnesota in January. Hope this works. Yeah...don't even know why I submitted this. Darn random insanity.

Growing Up

Posted 4 May 2003, 3.16 pm by The Green Mamba

First of all, dare I say that adulthood is highly overrated … with that in mind let us explore the shades of gray separating boys from men

In my mind there is only one thing that separates a boy from a man (or a child for an adult), aside from physical changes, and that is Responsibility.

It is a process mental and spiritual growth wherein you eventually reach a stage where you accept responsibility for you actions. Unfortunately, one of the side effects of adulthood is the loss of innocence. The moment you become aware of the consequences of your actions, you have to accept responsibility for the results. Failure to accept responsibility for any consequences you were aware of taints your soul and torments your spirit. This is more commonly referred to as the development of a conscience, which ultimately governs your every action.

I have seen people develop a conscience from as little as 11 and 12, but I have also seen others still struggling with adolescence in their late twenties. Age is of no consequence in the transition from child to adult.

Another unfortunate side effect of a conscience is what I refer to as, your sense of What If …

What if I loose control of my car and die?
What if the branch can't hold my weight?
What if I fail and loose everything?
The list goes on and differs per individual

Children have no fear, because they have no sense of "What if". They will climb the highest tree, jump of the roof, and tease the dog, etc. without any regard for the consequences of their actions. Neither do they have a conscience or will they accept responsibility for their actions. They will lay the blame on anything and anybody other than themselves (mostly inanimate objects) and will even go as far as to attempt the same foolishness again and again.

I believe that the ideal situation would be to reach a stage where you can accept the consequences for your actions, but before and during any act, you relinquish your sense of "What if". These people are normally the ones who succeed in life. They are willing to take risks, but when things go wrong they are mature enough to accept responsibility.

In all things I always strive to be childlike, but not childish ... Accept responsibility, but not back down out of fear for the consequences.

Unfortunately, I always fail. I over analyze things and live with a constant sense of What if. Instead of guiding me my conscience tends to holds me back. Maybe someday, instead of What If, I will stare death straight in the eyes and say “What the Fuck”

The best day?

Posted 2 May 2003, 2.30 am by Jake

I smacked the glass in frustration. Shit. Ten minutes left, and I was going to be late to one of the biggest events in my life. I was going to get married, a feat which had yet to be accomplished by my four brothers who still lived at home, thirty-five years old, jaded with life and women and still under the protective wing of Mommy Dearest. My sister had been married. Too many times, to be honest. Poor woman was twenty-five, had been married four times and had three kids to raise. She had all she could handle. So it was within my best interests when I met this sweet chick at the office, took her out a few times, and realized that I had to have her, a ring on her finger and her kissing me when I came home in the evening. I had to wake up to that face, I had to hold her hand when she bore my children. Even if it was while she was screaming in agonizing pain and jerking my goddamned arm out of the socket as a doctor yelled “PUSH!!! PUSH!!!!”

I was standing at the bank, waiting for a check to be cashed. The damn thing wouldn’t go through. Agitated, I paced the floor, waiting for the mousy-looking teller to give me my fucking gas money so that I could get out of there and face my destiny, face the person that I would know for the rest of my life. My family, her family, and numerous friends were awaiting me, and here I was, soon to be late. To my own wedding, nonetheless. I looked over my shoulder as a tall man with a mustache came strolling in the door. He looked pretty important, with the suit and the briefcase and the guys flanking him on each side. I paid him no mind and got back to the task at hand, which happened to be bitching at the inept teller-woman, calling her every name under the sun, cursing, and pointing at my tuxedo. Suddenly, shit started to happen.

A grizzled-looking old man staggered in the door and began waving a pistol around. Great. The best day of my life, and now I’m going to get shot by some two-bit drunk crazed on hatred and scorn. Perfect. People started yelling, women screamed, people hit the floor like a drunken prom date at the midnight hour. And I stood there, bewildered, thinking, “Is this shit really happening to me?” And yes, it was, as plain as it could be. The man yelled at a teller nearby to empty the safe and to get him $5000 from the vault as well, or he’d go on a shooting spree to rival that of the local high school last winter, when some rich kid snapped and started blasting students and teachers left and right. Death count? 20. The cops gunned the kid down, amazed at the fact that a young upstanding citizen had the gall to snap and shoot up the goddamned schoolyard like it was one of his father’s selling sessions on Wall Street. Hell, he had a reason for it. With a greedy family like that, I’d have slaughtered my folks. If it weren’t for the chance that the hired help would have caught me. Enough about me, though, and back to the situation that unfolded before me. Well, above me, actually. I was curled up in a whimpering heap underneath a large oak desk that probably belonged to the bank manager. As long as it kept the hollow-points away, I didn’t care.

Cue more action. The guy gets the money and starts yelling hysterically. He’s waving the gun around, and fires off a couple of shots. I think that the guy next to me pissed himself. He didn’t have long to piss, though, as a noise that sounded close to that of cannon fire resonated through the lobby. I watched as a man fell, wailing in pain, clutching his thigh. The old bastard was drunk. Maybe I could sneak out the….forget that. Wailing sirens broke my thoughts of escape. The cops. Thank God. I heard some yelling, and the man began to rant excitedly. He fired off another shot, randomly. And all I wanted was my money and to be standing at the altar next to pretty little Courtney, the love of my life. Fuck. I checked the time, and I was already five minutes late. Chances are, everyone’s pissed off. I’m fucked. Suddenly shots ring out, a volley of gunfire twinged with the shattering of glass, and I see the man fall. Huh. I rolled out from under the desk, and began to crawl my way to the door. I passed several people who were curled up in the fetal position, wailing about their families and their dogs and their life insurance and all the other trivial bullshit that didn’t matter anymore to me. I headed for the door. I had a wedding to get to. Mine. As I wormed my way past the old man, I snatched a bundle of bills from his cold hand. He wasn’t gonna miss it, and neither was the bank. I needed gas money, and at this point I could have given a fuck less. I shoved it into my jacket pocket and shuffled to the door, on hands and knees. “Sweet Courtney, here I come. I hope my in-laws don’t hate me for all this.”

Dante's Inferno Test

Posted 2 May 2003, 1.49 am by marilee

Which Level of Hell do you belong in?

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This is the shot of a crab apple tree outside of my house. I used thirds and rather than having the foreground directly in the middle I moved it to the left and let the rest fall out of focus.


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Props to Green Mamba for bringing the weirdness

Hmph

80s candy bars were pretty good

only because i traded it for a candy bar in the 80's.

lol we all know you don't have a soul ghoti

my soul for some carbs...

But of course!

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