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Floundering

Posted 4 February 2002, 9.29 pm by The_Roach

I hadn't intended to watch this movie. It was about 4 AM, I had finals in the morning, and I was exhausted. The moment I saw James Le Gros' name in the credits, I knew there was no hope. He is, without a doubt, one of the most underrated actors in the 90's, appearing in several B movies and little else.

The film revolves around a slacker named Jon Boyz and the aftermath of the L.A. race riots. Within 24 hours, Jon's life gets turned entirely upside-down and he snaps, culminating in the kidnapping of a woman and planning the murder of a police commisioner.

While occasionally heavy handed in it's philosophy, the acting is excellent and the film leaves you thinking about who you are and what your place is. Highly reccomended

The Simpsons

Posted 4 February 2002, 6.27 pm by Craig

Last year when I went to stay with Homer, I got lost while trying to find their house. This year I've thought ahead and found a map...

The Map of Springfield

I know you always wanted to know this!!

Posted 4 February 2002, 4.47 pm by Craig

Have you ever wanted to know everything you could about your favourite cartoon character. I have and now my search is over!!

The Scooby Doo Character profiles!!

Enjoy:)

You are being watched

Posted 3 February 2002, 12.46 pm by Alexander

Okay, the fact that your internet activity is constantly monitored is not news in itself, but click here for a disturbing, specific example. Also, if you don't have AdAware I very strongly recommend you download it and run it regularly.

Keep it real.

night in

Posted 3 February 2002, 7.52 am by Acheron

//Begin.//

Fade in. Three students in a small room. A young woman, "A", lies on a bed, reading a magazine. A young man, "J", sits at a desk, facing away from the woman, operating a computer. A second young man sits in a very low inflatable chair, holding an unopened bottle. He faces the young man at the computer, with a line of sight parallel to that of the woman. All three face away from the audience. All are dressed very casually (ie: pyjamas, etc.)

Long pause; "A" occasionally turns a page; "J" continues to use the computer, tamely; the second young man seems content to stare at his unopened bottle.

(I)

[J, turning head very slightly towards A, behind and to his left] Hey, what are you reading?

[A] Cosmo.

Pause. J turns his attention back to the computer; A turns a page.

[J] How can you read that garbage?

[A, without looking up] ... Never read it before today. It's not too bad.

Long pause, as before; the second young man raps the bottom of the bottle, methodically, and stares at the bubbles in the liquid.

(II)

[A, apparently noticing the other young man for the first time; confusedly] Hey, what are you doing?

Second young man looks up very briefly, mutters "Trying to piece it all together" (incomprehensibly), then looks back down at the bubbles.

A tuts

[J, monotonous] ..... oh.... that's what I was supposed to do.... I got the key and....

[A, without looking up from her magazine] How long have you been playing for?

J looks around as if for his clock, then focuses back on the computer.

[J] Oh, I don't know... a few hours maybe.

[A] You're losing track of time on that thing.

[J] I just want to beat this level.

Second young man raps bottle again.

[A] You said that an hour ago.

[J] Did I?

[A, nonchalantly] Ya.

Long pause, as before. Second young man begins gently swirling bottle, occasionally inverting it.

(III)

J hums odd fragments from different songs intermittently; A continues reading until she finishes her magazine, then she reaches over to the bedside table and exchanges it for a new one.

[J] What one's that?

[A] Maxim.

[J] That's mine.

[A] Yeah.

A skims through the magazine. Second young man sets the drink down on the floor in front of him and sits forward with his hands clasped and his elbows on his knees. A finishes the magazine and pushes it aside.

(IV)

[A] What time is it?

[J] I dunno.

[A] It's late.

[J] Is it?

[A] I'm going to bed.

[J] 'Night.

A sits up on her knees very slowly, stretches her back, rubs her eyes, slides legs out from under her and over the edge of the bed, stands up, and slowly walks out into the darkness beyond the room.

(V)

J continues gaming; Second young man sits back in his chair, holding the bottle vertically but inverted.

[J] ....... I'm close .......

[Second young man, slurred and muttered but not drunkenly] To what?

No answer. Another pause.

[J] There.

Second young man makes a "hmm" sound of upward, questioning, inflection.

[J] Done.

Pause.

[J] 'Night.

J turns the computer's monitor off, stands and stretches, and exits as A did.

(VI)

Long pause. Second young man sits motionlessly.

Eventually, second young man removes lid from the bottle... stares at it for a while... drinks a sip... replaces lid... stares at bottle for a while... puts bottle on nightstand to his left, on top of the magazine from earlier... sits forward with his hands clasped and his elbows resting on his knees... stares at his hands...

Fade out.

//End.//

What What?

Posted 3 February 2002, 1.52 am by Jake

Howdy. I hate my job. I decided to write something about skills, because that is a topic that pollutes my mind like a mental disorder.
Work. You know, the thing you do that causes you to get paid? It's a bitch. I am a floor covering installer...which means I am a carpetlayer, vinyl installer, ceramic tile technician, wooden floor professional...whatever you wish. I work for my uncle, and I am easily as skilled as he is. I work with one white guy, two Hondurans, one Venezualan, and one Mexican, which has caused me to learn Spanish. I have conformed myself to my vocation, which is probably the best thing I could have ever done, other than go to school. I learned to speak a foreign language (something other than Latin, which is fundamental yet unneccessary.). I have learned to read, write, and work mathematical problems over public-school levels. thanks to private (Episcopal) school.
And I thank nobody, because no one has really helped me. I am where I am because of myself. I am mine. Even though I am a student at a public school now, I still realize one fact: High school is NOT a true test of intellect. It is only a matter of repeating procedures and structures taught by teachers that are either socially inept or good at what they do. I want to know if anyone else contains or has experienced this degree of individualism and how society has shaped(or twisted) you. Respond, if you will.

Novels

Posted 2 February 2002, 9.26 pm by Sickan

Chapter 4
After a few hours Gabriel stopped writing and looked upon the disorganized mess in his little room, the beer-cans, the newspapers and the all the old and rotting take-away food suddenly annoyed him. He grabbed a bag and started cleaning. It took him about one hour to clean the whole room, and then he stated to vacuuming the floor and the bed. When he was done the room actually felt nice and a bit more like a home. Now he felt good, and the ideas to the novel had sprung into his head. But before he began writing he would get something to eat, he remembered that he hadn't eaten for 36 hours now, and he could feel the hunger in his stomach. But he decided that he wouldn't go for the easy way and just order a cheap pizza, but he would go to the store and buy some healthy food.
He hurried out the door smiling and he felt like laughing. But somewhere in his mind something else were waking, something different something unnatural.
He rushed over a small road and the last thing he heard was a car honking vary loud and he could hear the empty dump of his body hit the sidewalk in front of his own room. Then it all turned dark.

"It was beautiful; the way it turned around all the small imperfections in the wallpaper, making its way down, like it was its sole purpose in life. He hoped, that the drop would somehow reach the floor, before it ran out of sustenance, though he knew this wasn’t possible, and exactly as that thought passed through his head, the blood line came to a stop.
His eyes ran up and down the line, admiring how perfectly it reflected the light form the small yellowish bulb hanging somewhere over his head. He imagined that he could see himself reflected in there, somewhere."

Political "correctness" part one

Posted 2 February 2002, 1.52 am by Andy

For the sake of ease, please allow me to focus on one race in the following post as opposed to every race... simply apply this to your's where needed. Also, please realize that I am simply a dumb Cracker, and have no idea what it is that I am talking about.

African American
Black
Colo(u)red
Nigger

Which term is "proper?" Which term is "correct?" How do you know?

Who decided for you?

Which term do you prefer? Which term do you find offensive? How do you know?

Who decided for you?

Poll a random Black (which, again, for sake of ease, allow me to use in reference to... fuck, you know to which race I am referring. Apply alterations where needed) person, and you'll no doubt get a conflicting answer. Some prefer "Black." Some prefer "African American." Some, no doubt, actually prefer "Colo(u)red," and some refer to each other as "Nigger" in a, no doubt, brotherly, loving way... but which is technically "proper?"

Let's analyze:

"Black" is quite obviously an easy means of reference, but it has had such a negative connotation throughout (recent) history (especially when used as "The Black Race" or simply "The Blacks") that it is usually considered racist by most, as people don't normally prefer being referred to by their skin colo(u)r (though I'm not certain as to why; "Black" is about as racist as "blonde" is... hairist).

"Nigger" is a definite no-no, especially interracially (ie a White person calling a Black person a "Nigger"), though it seems to be prevelant in most rap or hip hop "music;" then again, so are words such as "izzo" and "dubs," so you can take that for what you please.

The word "Colo(u)red," if you ask most anyone (regardless of their race), is almost as bad or just as bad as the word "Nigger," and not very practical, considering the fact that technically everyone is of some colo(u)r, be it White (technically pinkish most of the time, save for Powder and myself, though mine is due to lack of sunlight (read: a life), and not albinism), Hispanic, Asian, or any other race you can dream up.

And the one that makes about the least sense, but is technically considered politically "correct" by most? "African American." How many Black Americans are actually African? What about Blacks in other countries? Are they to be referred to as African French? African Irish (that'd be a fun one)? African Australian? African Canadian? African Chinese? African South African? Who decided that the term "African American" should be used to refer to the entire Black race?

I'm guessing a Cracker.

Am I a European American, being White?

Hmm. Well, it's something to think about.

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A year or so ago I undertook a study entitled 'Faces of Death'. I produced a quite substantial body of work concerning corpses, and faces in particular. I concentrated mainly on victims of murder. This image was produced by rolling a thick layer of ink onto a steel plate and rubbing, scratching and soaking it off with turps. The plate was then pressed onto paper, and this is the result.


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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!

Yo ! Does this work ?

* Alexander wonders if this still works

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