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I am not really Here

Posted 13 January 2003, 9.32 pm by Shaggy

I think therefore I am, Descartes

I am therefore I think, Marxism

Not that I really have an entire understanding of those concepts, nor did Karl Marx himself actually say "I am, therefore I think", though I think that it can be a synopsis of some of Marxist concepts. However, those two phrases, used to describe two of the most interesting philosophers, led me to ponder, whether justifiably so or not, the concept of reverse-solipsism. I am fairly confident when I say that there is probably a school of thought already devoted to the concepts I have come up with, but... well... in the spirit of the uneducated, I will just say, on my part, "ignorance is bliss" (not that I condone ignorance...)

I have often felt as if my life is being led by the hand, so to speak. Often, I wonder if the Naturalists are right in the theory that there is very little free will, that we are willo' the whisps, so to speak. I often wonder, if we have no free will, could you not substitute "random chance" very satisfactorily into the equation, and not be left with very much in terms of alteration? I mean, if it is not your choice, then it is fate. And since no one is a purist of fate anymore (forgive me for potentially being presumptuous), it can be said that life today is, for those who believe in fate, is 50% fate, 25% chance, 25% choice. "It isn't my choice," they say, and are doubted. If everything is completely random, then the choice of which random path, although completely arbitrary, is still free will. Simply because I am biased, does not make my opinion completely null in void.

However, I do not believe there can be such a thing as half-fate. I mean, really, either the state of existence is completely mapped out, by gods, seeds, aliens, clones, or whatever, or everything is completely random. How can there possibly be a middle-ground, a gray area to ponder upon?

I believe life is written. I believe in fate. And yet, I often wonder if I even exist. I feel as the spectator, the only character who does not truly exist in the great scheme. Not that I am a pessimist! This is no feeling of depression, or identity anxiety. Rather, it is a mere feeling that those around me control my paths, that those around me are filtering my character into a capsule, a tiny, well-placed and (hopefully) socially important capsule that can be taken into the machinations of the world, and form some function therein.

As I choose who interacts with my spectator-status, is my fate then free will, or is it a purist fate, one that is written and inevitable? If I choose two rocks, will I choose correctly, even though both rocks are completely arbitrary and useless?

Or will I steal someone elses rock?

And by the way, reports of my demise were grossly exaggerated. I am not dead yet, though many of you will be displeased to hear.

Food Culture

Posted 13 January 2003, 9.06 pm by Acheron

I'm sure we all have distinct recollections of our parents telling us to finish our meal. I know I can remember my parents scornfully telling me to shovel more eats down my gullet. How could I leave food uneaten when children in vague, far-off locations, usually Africa, never have enough to eat?!

Right.

Is it any surprise that the West's (read: North America) is a culture of overeating? Don't you remember being a child and feeling some serene sense of accomplishment - fullness - at finishing the whole meal?

"Wow, I'm truly an upstanding citizen today! I even ate the vegetables! I deserve a medal!"

True, I felt accomplished after some very silly tasks as a kid, but I can't shake the fact that my parents were somehow behind the pride I felt. Today, I still feel a little proud of myself whenever there's an empty plate in front of me. The best victories are those wars of attrition between me and my stomach, where I have to eat the food one piece at a time. I feel like Churchill thumbing his nose at the Germans:

"We shall go on to the end, we shall eat in France, we shall eat on the seas and oceans, we shall eat with growing confidence and growing strength in the air, we shall defend our Island, whatever the cost may be, we shall eat on the beaches, we shall eat on the landing grounds, we shall eat in the fields and in the streets, we shall eat in the hills; we shall never surrender, and even if, which I do not for a moment believe, this Island or a large part of it were subjugated and starving, then our Empire beyond the seas, armed and guarded by the British Fleet, would carry on the struggle, until, in God's good time, the New World, with all its power and might, steps forth to the rescue and the liberation of the old."


You've probably guessed where I'm going with this argument, because here it loses all coherency and branches off in a thousand directions, not stopping until I've ranted about everything from those filthy bastards who make generic brand soda crackers; to Big Daddy Bush and his mendacious quest for oil.

Face it - we're fatties, and our (my?) eating habits are wholly unhealthy. Not only do we overindulge ourselves at every sitting - on the wrong food at that; but we subjugate our appetites to the oddest schedules imaginable. Just how healthy can it be to eat three gigantic meals oddly spaced throughout the day?

It might be an odd approach, but if people want to curb Western over-consumption (you know, that whole "armageddon"/"human extinction" bit) perhaps we should start with... consumption?

Ye Olde Funnie Shoppe

Posted 12 January 2003, 8.12 pm by Acheron

A little flash cartoon about Dubya and his role models.

Bahahahaha

Those nutty vegetarians

Posted 11 January 2003, 8.06 am by Acheron

While browsing PETA propaganda, I came across a delightful site called "Milksucks.com". Follow the link, click the smallish picture of a little girl.

CLICK ME

Damn.

Thievery Corporation: The Richest Man in Babylon

Posted 10 January 2003, 6.04 am by Acheron

I have been known to go on tirades against over-labelling music, and whenever someone asks me what kind of music I like, I get confused and fidgety. After all, if it's good music, who cares what the label says? Needless to say, I get a bit peeved when someone like, say, ElectronicScene.com feels it necessary to divide Drum'n'Bass into "Ambient", "Breakcore", "Techstep", "Drill and Bass", and "Darkstep." Please.

It's albums like "Babylon" that help me justify my stance. The first track, "Heaven's Gonna Burn Your Eyes," hits you like a sunrise - it's a silky-smooth Bjork meets "The Mirror Conspiracy" meets a Chemical Brothers b-side meets Air. I can't even put to words how beautiful I think this song is.

The contrast between that track and the Near-Eastern "Facing East" that follow it demonstrate the true interest of the album: the eclectic. Thievery Corporation paints a groove-laden portrait, rife with ethnic drums, vocals, and instruments.

The rest of the album is savvy, to say the least - the tracks are all three to five minutes long, and each one has its own catchy riffs. There are hints everywhere of their previous works, but the album has its own unique feel. In a word: organic.

If you like lounge or downtempo music, or you simply need to put something on late at night to chill, go get it. Even the packaging is something to be ogled.

Is there a skill to being alone?

Posted 8 January 2003, 4.45 pm by ls42hq

This is a piece i wrote for Antons site www.Dieslowly.com a while back when i was about to break up with my girlfriend. Looking back i dont know if i feel as strongly about the subject, i seemed to have fitted back into the single life without much hardship, to read these words now i wonder if thats a good or a bad thing.....
Tonychef, 8/1/03


Is there a skill to being Alone?

You go through life as an individual, every day choosing the path or activity that you wish to follow, beholdent to no one. Then one day you notice that the world is made up of pairs- two eyes to see, two arms to hold, two lips to kiss- the missing part suddenly becomes obvious. If your lucky the reason you notice this fact is because you've just found the person to fill the hole in your life, the one, the only one that could be that missing part for you. Now If you're really in the zone, that person will feel the same need and nature being the hard bitch that she is will soon see you together and happy.

You go Through life as a couple, every day taking the path or activity that you can tred together, always considering the other in the choices that are made. Life revolves in its spiraling way, twisting and combining till the individuals are no more and only the pair remains, so relient on each other that life without the other seems suddenly unthinkable.

Unthinkable eh?
Go on think about it....

To become single again, to rip the other out of your life, because after what they did friends is just not an option, to be the individual again. You cant see these friends anymore, they're not your friends, they're our friends. That holiday you've been soo looking forward to, the bars you use to go to, the resturants where the table for the two of you is always ready; its all property of the couple, to be abbandoned or split.

And now your on your own again, another of those that make there own choices and take ther own path in life. Always forfilling your own needs, looking after number one...But they're always there, the ghost of the couple, just in the back of the mind, showing you the paths you could have taken, the places you could be.

The happiness you once knew.

Periodical Rantings

Posted 6 January 2003, 9.10 pm by arguile

Life is somewhat calmer now than before... there's always something else to be done, so life can't completely fuck you over. If you've ever watched an oscilioscope, you'd realize that the pattern made by the wavelengths is life. That waveform signifies a recognizeable current, and the bigger the wave the larger the current. I guess that's kind of like life, huh?

I mean, think about it. Heroes in stories always get nearly captured, their families are killed, but they always somehow manage to save the world. I'd say that those are some massive ups and downs. It almost always seems like the more shit people have to go through, the better the return's gonna be. You might not save the world, you might not become a millionaire; if you survive through all the shit in your life, however, maybe you'll vicariously save someone's life, or save a city, or you just might even save the motherfucking world. That's the funny thing about life... you never know anything until the moment it happens.

I guess it's impossible to completely justify anything that happens in a completely chaotic system of events that string together to form life, but that seems to be the undeniable quest for the majority of humans.

People have justified this unexplainable flow of bads and goods with religion, or with fate, or with any other sort of theistic or atheistic means of rationalizing the unrational. My personal outlook on this is that everyone needs something to make them a better person, and for most people this comes through the path of multiple shitty incidents.

The Dream

Posted 5 January 2003, 1.35 am by Diva

I dreamt that I died. I was walking through the people at my funeral, seeing who showed up, who even cared and who came for the food. Ahead of me, I saw a casket. I walked up and looked in, as if it were someone else. I kept waiting for me to wake up. Then panic set in. I twirled around and looked at an empty chair. Somehow I knew that it was reserved for my boyfriend/husband. This should be interesting. I wonder who it is. I sat down between these big bouquets of funky flowers and leaned against the casket. It was blue steel, not really my taste. At least they got the color right. I glanced over to the one bouquet; it was from my coworkers. Amy must have picked out the flowers. I looked down and saw the vase and started laughing. It was that fucking candle holder I got for Christmas. The glass was cracked and leaking. They set it on the Dreidel towel I got. Nice to see that they came to some use.

I looked back at the seat. People were weeping and occasionally looking at it. Man, my one friend could buck an Oscar for Drama Queen. "Sympathy hog!" I yelled. She suddenly stopped, her eyes went wide. She couldn't see me. It hit home again. I tried to will myself awake. They say people who die in dreams never wake up. Then again, how do they know that was dream they had? More bullshit studies so doctors can keep busy.

I don't remember dying. Being the curious type, I got up and looked in the casket to see if I could figure out how. No bruises. Car accident or violent act was out. The wrists and neck was untouched. Glad to see I didn't do something stupid. I walked down to this man reading the pamphlet. Could they have chosen a shittier picture of me? Oy vey. Ooh! Funeral Blues by W. H. Auden was printed on the cover. One of my favorite poems. On the other side was Footprints. I carry; correction... carried that poem in my purse. Great, no cause of death.

Looking up, I saw a priest approach the casket. WTF?! Oh great, guys. Giving me Christmas tree ornaments for Chanukah was one thing. The least you could have done is get a fucking Rabbi for my funeral. Now I was pissed. I stormed up the aisle and realized I had no idea what I was going to do. I sat down again between the flowers and banged my head against the coffin. Just as I realized someone was sitting in that seat my arm dangled out of the coffin in front of me, and I screamed. Then I woke up.

No more pizza before bed.

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This is again from the 'Faces of Death' cycle. In this piece, the mottled effect was produced by flicking turpentine at the image once it was smeared into the ink.


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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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