delbrians

Imaginations

2005-05-27T08:13:00.000-07:00

The tough looking, boyish one rushed through the door, already verging towards the two empty seats before even entering the train. Two more follow, looking more girly, more like a tourists in a situation they have yet to encounter for their first time. They feel secure around their guide, with smiles and eyes full of gratitude and admiration as they smoothly glide into the empty bench, made available by their eager heroine. They giggle and look around with that air of novelty inexperienced subway riders usually have. Something is new to them. Is it the subway itself, their guide, the destination, the situation, or little combination of it all? In any case, they giggle, giving the sign that this adventure will continue as proposed. The boyish one standing looks into them, cooing them secretly with her thoughts, making every attempt to meet their eyes for a quick show of her confidence. The train continues deeper into Brooklyn. Silence and staring eyes envelops them. The sitting girls get alarmed by the rustle of a stranger, but then calm at the touch of their standing leader. Their excited giddiness has turned into a nervous anticipation. "Of what" I ask myself as I exit. Discovering something new is my only guess.

Kiss and Make Up

2005-04-29T11:52:00.000-07:00

In a previous post I went on bitterly about the Dog-Eat-Dog world we live in. Now, I certainly consider myself more of a lover than a fighter anyways, so I'd rather talk less about a dog-eat-dog world and more about a dog-hump-dog world. In addition to being more a lover, I like to be educated too. That being said, I'd like to share some information on dog breeding that I have recently learned:

1. Move her to help him. Males that have never mated aren't always sure how to proceed. In fact, they commonly approach the wrong end or simply have trouble making contact.

I believe they call this the Mrs. Robinson.

2. Give nature some help. When dogs have trouble with penetration, using an over-the-counter lubricant may help. Walkowicz recommends using a water-based lubricating product like K-Y Jelly.

This is plain icky.

3. Allow for bathroom breaks. "The mating act titillates more than just the libido," Walkowicz says. "It also sometimes makes them have to go to the bathroom."

I think I can relate.

4. Untie the knot. After mating, the female's muscles contract and the male's penis swells. The resulting "tie" will often keep the pair locked together for 30 minutes to an hour. "You need to watch that they don't hurt themselves," Hunt says. "An inexperienced male doesn't always know he has to get off and turn around backward."

This last point is the one I'd like to dwell upon. My female colleagues (with whom I have shared this information) were rather fond of this idea, and even pondered a world in which men were stuck (pun intended) with the same post-coital dilemma. They all agreed that this would solve many a problem between men and women.

I retorted, "as long as you wouldn't wake me up, I'd be ok with it."

For more wonderful info: click.

hair Bands for America

2005-04-28T07:33:00.000-07:00

This is a must see for anybody who likes Journey and/or America.

Tip: It takes a while to load, so start looking for your lighter.

Caveman Diplomacy

2005-04-26T06:28:00.000-07:00

If I steal your meat, and you come chasing me with a rock, I will do one of two things: seek a protective shelter, and if not available, grab a rock and try to bash you in the head. I may deserve my own bash in the head, but I am trying to survive (that is why I fight you back and also why I stole your bread in the first place).

Why don't people admit that this is how modern nations go about their business?

Why do some people defend the people that want to kill us, and why do others pretend that we are sheep instead of wolves?

Here is one example of caveman politics:

There was no reason for the US to wage war on Iraq and not Iran and N Korea. The latter two were just as guilty as Iraq (if not more) on all the grounds that lead us into the Iraq war. The whole thing was just an offensive stratagey to serve US interests. We had many interests in Iraq that, because of the illusion of diplomacy and fairness that Bush had to uphold, Bush could never admit. Lets name them: revenge, oil, and a really convenient spot right in the middle of all those other countries that really pose a threat. I really believe that Bush was protecting US interests, and getting a little revenge on the side for his pop. Like the caveman that steals another's bounty, we took our survival into our own hands. It ain't fair. Nope. Not one bit. And anybody who gets pissed at us (i.e., France, Russia) is really only pissed because they couldn't get away with it themselves. Modern day colonialism.

The Western world in general is the most civilized and rich in the world because of 500 years of third-world exploitation.

There is nothing really new about the dynamics of the Iraq war, and nothing really new about the caveman politics we still employ.

So lets stop pretending that we live in a Star Wars film. There are no good guys, and there are no bad guys, there is only survival.

Popey Poopy

2005-04-20T05:41:00.000-07:00

So the Catholic church needs a new marketing team, and a few NY newspapers need to grow a spine. I say both of these for the same reason. Just last week the Metro and NY Post were uncovering Joe Ratzinger's duplicitous past. While Joe himself decried foul play and took no responsibility for his actions during WWII, his former comrades were sure he was faithfully adherent to the Nazi cause. A newspaper never really makes an assertion about anything in its non-editorial content, but the two above certainly presented plenty of the facts to assume Joe guilty. Now that he is Pope however, these same papers, just one week later, seem pretty sure that he was in fact forced to be a Nazi gunner. Cowards!

And now lets consider the church's decision to elect the Pope Nazi, also known as the "Vatican Enforcer." I wonder where he developed this style? Who were his role models? John Paul was considered a hero upon his death, so much that many people want to elevate him to Sainthood.
Now he had some admirable accomplishments, but lets get real here. He was incredibly conservative, and fought to maintain church orthodoxy. I don't blame a man for having convictions, but in the face of major dwindling of church participation, give it up a little. Its easy to rile the masses and get them to riot against gay marriage, but maintaining that they can't use rubbers and take the pill is a little short sighted (lets not even mention the hypocrisy of the masses, who were quick to adopt the tenet that male on male blow jobs are evil, but conveniently forgot that the Pope considered all blowjobs, gay or straigt, equally evil).

I was routing for the Nigerian and Brazillian guys, certainly the underdogs in the race. Now I'll be damned if you can find more than 5% of European or American catholics who actually follow all of Catholic dogma. Most go to church because they are supposed to, and attending Sunday mass is just enough to get coach fare into heaven. If there is any hope for the church (as far as orthodoxy is concerned), its in South America and maybe Africa. Has anybody ever been to a South American or Latin American country during a religious holiday? If not, then don't bother, because they are virtually shut down. Nowhere have I ever seen catholics so faithful and orthodox than amongst are Spanish speaking brethren. Now Brazil isn't a spanish nation, but its a major player in the South American seen, and I'm sure a Brazillian pope would inspire pride in the entire continent.

Let the people who deserve a pope actually have one. The rest of us can just pretend to care, but not actually do a damn thing the pope wants us to do.

Amen papi!

BDay Weekend Refresh

2005-04-18T07:23:00.000-07:00

Friday: Loser. Stayed home - asleep by 12.

Saturday: Jammed with the band. Ate a teryaki turkey testicle. For a useless bird, they sure are packing.

Sunday: I went to brunch at this uber gay restaurant called Viceroy. Imagine a perfect replica of a french brasserie but serving traditional american cuisine. We had a waiter of epic proportions. If he were as good a waiter as he was flaming, then I wouldn't have suffered through the afternoon in such a caffiene deficiant stupor. Despite my decaffeinated discomfort though, the steak, eggs and cheesy grits more than provided the energy I needed to trek uptown. I generally disdain and have little patience for all things brunch, but this, aided by the weather, was pleasant and a nice treat.

Next came a grueling bus ride uptown to visit the orchid show. The theme by this point of the day was condoms, condoms and more condoms. I have to blunt, and a little insensitive, but there's nothing more aggravating to a hangover than screaming children. I have tolerance up until about age 2, after which, SHUT THE FUCK UP!

So we made it to the orchid show around 2. What is supposed to be relaxing and enjoyable never is in Manhattan. I'm realizing more and more that if you want a good experience in the city, be the first to do it, or don't bother. Once people catch wind of something good it is ruined for those perpetually lagging behind.

So then I was homeward bound. I found peace in my fortress of solitude. My female analogue, partner in crime, and personal decorating assistant and I accomplished the herculean task of carrying an extraordinarily large piece of salvaged furniture up four flights. The exertion and blood flow to my thighs and glutes sent a surge of testosterone thoughout my body. I needed a minute to cool off. My girl kept her distance, out of fear of being swept away by the wave that had just swept me.

So then I tended to my garden, made dinner, and sat down to watch the most recent Spike Lee joint, 'She Hate Me.' This movie had everything I needed: strong family values, girl-on-girl action, and a sweeping distrust of institutions and people in power. I highly recommend it to all conventional folks who prefer to think unconventionally.

So my birthday's eve ended on a graceful note and for that I am grateful. So now I will have to wait a full year or till my next major injury before I can get away with being a selfish, debauched, hedonistic glutton.

2005-04-14T12:21:00.000-07:00

Tickled pink.

Orchids

2005-04-14T12:03:00.000-07:00

My feeling is that any man that doesn't get seduced by the orchid doesn't have a dirty enough imagination.

I visited Rockefeller Center today where thousands of orchids are on display. Each one is a tiny multicolored siren competing for my attention.

The thing about the orchid is that they are not particularly beautiful, at least in the classical sense. A rose has extravagance and class, and is pretty well dressed. A daisy has country charm, and is endearing with its subtle grace.

An orchid completely lacks this subtlety. It is strange, asymmetric, and kind of awkward - a lot like something else I know and love.

Fortunately with orchids, you are encouraged to enjoy more than one, even at the same time.

I certainly did that today.

2005-04-12T07:48:00.000-07:00

O, que j'aime tant la bonne vie!

10 Line Play

2005-04-12T07:10:00.000-07:00

Scenario: A man in his mid-20's is strolling through the park. He pauses, looks towards the ground and fumbles a little in his jacket pocket. He pulls out a phone and presses it to his ear.

man: "Whoa, man, how's it going? Its been a while."
phone: "I know, I know. I've just been trying to catch up with things. "
man: "Well, we all deal with the same shit. Its ok. What do you say we meet up this Saturday?"
phone: "Yeah, that sounds nice. "
man: "There's this new restaurant in the Slope I read about. We should check it out."
phone: "Sure. Also, the Brooklyn Museum has got this new Basquiat exhibit. I love his stuff!"
man: "Well, its settled. Meet me at Grand Army plaza around 2ish. Call me if you're running late."
phone: "No problem. "
man: "Well, it was good to hear from you. later."
phone: "Yeah, and looking forward to saturday. Bye."

The slowly puts the phone back in his pocket and continues on his course.

Had the person on the phone been a woman, the conversation would hardly generate a second thought. Had it been a man though, the two characters would be treading relatively unkown territory, that of the Man Date.

The NY Times just ran an interesting piece titled 'The Man Date.' Here is a little excerpt:

Simply defined a man date is two heterosexual men socializing without the crutch of business or sports. It is two guys meeting for the kind of outing a straight man might reasonably arrange with a woman. Dining together across a table without the aid of a television is a man date; eating at a bar is not. Taking a walk in the park together is a man date; going for a jog is not. Attending the movie "Friday Night Lights" is a man date, but going to see the Jets play is definitely not.

I am not about pedicures and facial scrubs and that kind of stuff, but a little more metro and a little less hetero could do most men some good. At the very least two guys should be able to go to an art gallery, or taste some wines, without having to look over their shoulders fearing some gay feller in the corner is imagining them making out.

So now that I've opened up a little, and shared my feelings, I think I'll go drink a beer and fart. Maybe I'll rub my belly for luck too and eat a leftover taco for breakfast.

Prophets and the Saving Grace

2005-04-07T13:41:00.000-07:00

In my Kingdom there is a band called the Wifebeaters. They are what happens when Jewish Conspirators, the KGB and la Cossa Nostra meld maniacal minds together to make manic mania. It hasn’t occurred yet to the Kingdom of Everyone that these non-violent Wifebeaters have come to save music from the evil demons of the current music industry. In fact, the legendary Beatles and Bob Marley were sent as prophets to herald the Wifebeater coming.

I even have proof. The Beatles knew about the Kingdom of Del, and they sang about its King.

He's a real nowhere man,
Sitting in his nowhere land,
Making all his nowhere plansfor nobody.

Doesn't have a point of view,
Knows not where he's going to,
Isn't he a bit like you and me?

And so there you have it.

2005-04-06T13:00:00.000-07:00

LOOOOOOOOOSERRRRRRRRRRRR!

2005-04-06T08:03:00.000-07:00

I basically don’t have much of a social life these days. I'm not complaining, its just the way things are. There's an interesting phenomenon that I am witnessing develop as a result of this fact. With minimal social interaction to keep me in check, my imagination is free to create a world where I am king. I have discovered in this state that it is better to be king of no one than to be subject to everyone. I am even hesitant to post opinions on this blog, lest they be strung up by the lynch mob of fellow readers. So no opinions or social commentary from me for now on. Nothing will be spoken of if it hasn’t taken place within the Kingdom of Del, witnessed firsthand by King Del himself.

2005-03-31T06:34:00.000-08:00

Bla Bla Bla

A Whole Lotta Love

2005-03-31T06:09:00.000-08:00

Posting about the weather seems to be as cheap as bringing up the weather to a stranger to initiate conversation. There are exceptions, like when it rains so hard you can almost see an ark approaching in the distance, or when the snow comes down in such volume that the city shuts down to a crawl. The point is that at certain times the weather changes your daily routine, so much that you can't help but by occupied by it and thus must make a mention of it. Its not that you lack the skill to make small talk or post using another topic, its that the weather is genuinely on your mind.

And with that said I welcome the spring today for the first time.

When I was a kid I always wanted to adopt Greek mythology as my official religion. I wasn't trying to run away from being Catholic, I just thought that the Greek stuff more suited my personality. Since I've been conscious of my being conscious, I've always held a fascination for natural phenomena and the powers they hold on mortal men, such as myself. Catholicism never made a point to embrace any of this. Every phenomenon to a Greek mythologist, from the changing of the seasons, to rain, lightning, or snow, is dance between you and the divine. The deities are more powerful than you, but they are powerless if you don't notice them. They need you as much as you need them, and this to me is a fair relationship.

Well today, the gods gave me what I needed: a little sunshine, a little blue sky, a whole lotta love.
And to reciprocate and fulfill my end of the bargain, I give them a shout out, let them know they peeps appreciate what they doin.

So talking about the weather for me today is not a cheap shot, its an obligation!

2005-03-31T05:59:00.000-08:00

Turn around baby, its spankin time!

To Beat or not to Beat.

2005-03-30T13:44:00.000-08:00

Wifebeating is wrong, apparently?

I think the Post is suggesting that the Wifebeaters get an image makeover. According to them:

There is such a thing as bad publicity — four models say their images have taken a beating since posing as woman-batterers for a city ad campaign.

Well, don’t kill yourself guessing, the four models of course are:
Jessica, Ivan, Yaron, and myself.

We are considering changing our name to the Wifespankers, and will substitute our charming and bare white t’s with vinyl halter tops.

2005-03-28T13:51:00.000-08:00

Feeling fragmented.

Performance for Someone I Really Love

2005-03-28T13:21:00.000-08:00

I consider myself mildly schizophrenic, but in a sort of good way. I am always paranoid, but that might be an altogether different disorder. What I feel I have, and I don't necessarily suffer from this, is multiple personalities. I might be exaggerating a little bit to make this story dramatic, but I've got at least 5 different ambitions and they all seem to competing with each other. They compete for my time and attention, and much worse, compete for how I will define and live the rest of my life.

The point of telling all of this is that all of my ambitions seem to be all dried up. What am I doing with myself and what is the point, I ask myself of lately. What was once a bunch big juicy grapes bursting off of the vine is now a pile of raisins lying on sun scorched earth. I've somehow lost my overachieving drive.

The best part about it is I don't really care.

I've noticed that since feeling burnt out, my guitar playing has gotten deeper, with more melody and emotion. I'm at total ease when I'm sitting on my empty bathtub (really great acoustics in the bathroom), strumming away with no real purpose but to please myself.

Exhausting my ambitions has lulled me into a tranquil state of musical masturbation, and with each stroke I get closer and closer to this little climax called peace.

2005-03-24T13:51:00.000-08:00

A cross-section of my mind.

Food for Thought (or rather, Thought for Food):

2005-03-24T13:25:00.000-08:00

I love food. I love to cook it. I love to eat it. I just wish I didn’t have to do it three times a day. I am forever preoccupied with all the burdens that my food fanaticism has wrought upon me. First and foremost, the food must be delicious. I am of the mind that a body is precious, so I do my best to put into it only ingredients that came from the earth and not a lab. Next there’s my modeling career I have to think about. Everyday that I face the public is a new and informal gig (unpaid of course). A spare tire and junk in the trunk are only acceptable in and old Chevy, so there are calories, fats and carbs, too high for me to count, that I have to keep tab on.

All in all, I waste so much mental energy on obtaining physical energy that I feel little more than an unproductive glutton. Then again, in all our years of evolution, we evolved our mental energy solely as a tool to gain physical energy. In other words, our brain owes everything it has to our stomach. According to natural law, I am supposed to be and unproductive glutton. Still, I’d rather be more productive.

2005-03-21T12:05:00.000-08:00

Some people are inherently evil, but at least a posting was born out of their cruelty.

You're stuck inside Fahrenheit 451, which book do you want to be?
Any one that burns at 452 degrees.

Have you ever had a crush on a fictional character?I don't think
When I was 13 I had a passionate longing for Ariel from the Little Mermaid. There was a G rated nude scene in the movie that I'll never forget.

The last book you bought is:
I bought several books on database design and statistics for $1 total from a peddler down the street from my apartment. His trash was certainly my treasure.

The last book you read:
Lolita

What are you currently reading?
My grad school admission essays.

Five books you would take to a deserted island.
I would take the bible (old and new), and then wait in vain for my Eve to show up. I'd maybe bring the Koran too, the Tao Te Ching, and whatever Buddhists and Hindu's like to read. I'd teach it all to the animals and then watch them go at it like humans.

Who are you going to pass this stick to (3 persons) and why?
I'd rather surprise them because they'll probably read it here first.

2005-03-18T05:12:00.000-08:00

Its no joke... I'm going insane.

Insomnia

2005-03-18T04:47:00.000-08:00

I'm so tired, I haven't slept a wink.

Three nights and counting. One simple bathroom break snowballs into my own personal hell. Hope, then frustration, then anger, then helplessness. You wish you were dreaming. You'd even settle for a nightmare. You just want to fade away for one long minute before the sun rises.

I'm so tired, my mind is on the brink.

Three days and counting. Bitterness. You were never really asleep, and yet you feel you've never really woken up. Irony. There is some comfort though: you're too tired to care about the mounting pressure in your life. Still, you're afraid you're losing it.

I wonder should I get up and fix myself a drink?

No, no, no...

I'll just take some Vicoden instead...

2005-03-17T06:01:00.000-08:00

I saw the sign, and it opened up my eyes.

Disappearing Act

2005-03-17T05:57:00.000-08:00

I was thinking about sublimating into some intangible ether, but then I saw the sign and decided to come to work instead.

2005-03-14T07:20:00.000-08:00

Slaying my Inner Media Whore!

Bandersnatch

2005-03-14T07:12:00.000-08:00

Its getting to the point where the following poem makes more sense than the media controlled world I live in:

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe.
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mame raths outgrabe.
'Beware the Jabberwock, my son,
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch.
Beware the jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious bandersnatch.'
He took his vorpal sword in hand;
Long time the manxome foe he sought.
Then rested he by the tum-tum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One! two! and through and through
The vorpal blade went snickersnack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
'And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjious day! Calooh! Calay!'
He chortled in his joy.
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe.
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

I would be all mimsy myself if I could outgrabe the powers that be and tune out all that mine own two eyes doth not admit.

UGHHH!

I'm So Special

2005-03-10T09:12:00.000-08:00

Forget birthdays. Surgery days are better. Both give you the feeling that you are growing older and that you are falling apart. These feelings are inevitable so I dismiss them. What I don't dismiss is how special getting cut open makes me.

On birthdays you are supposed to be special, but in my experience, people don't really put in the effort to make you feel this way. We have all have them, once a year even, so who really wants to make a fuss of them. On surgery days however, you are special. You are royalty and everybody wants to be your servant.

From the minute you wake up nice ladies are fluffing your pillows, bringing you warmed blankets and they even hold your IV bag up while you tend to waste management business.
After that, people drive hours out of their way to be your personal chauffer and nothing is expected of you, except to be comfortable. "Thirsty? Sit down, I'll get it for you." "Hungry? Don't you dare move."

Its the life. You are even encouraged to take drugs. Birthdays just don't even compare.

White Chicks

2005-03-07T06:03:00.000-08:00

Much to the chagrin of my movie snob friends, and the general intellectual elite, I rented the White Chicks DVD and really enjoyed it. I grew up watching the Wayans Brothers brand of comedy on the show In Living Color, so I was not at all surprised at watching my laughter unfold as Marlon and Shawn Wayans went undercover as two Hilton sister clone white chicks. This movie gets straight to the point, and isn’t shy about delivering it: gender and ethnic based stereotypes are meant to be exploited and laughed at. And for the PC faint at heart, there are enough poopie and fart scenes to forget about the racial stuff and bring out the true philistine in all of us.

Really though, the movie does deliver an interesting lesson: a good way to make a good man is to make him a good woman first. A little bit of femininity in a man (but not too much) can sure go a long way.

Expressionless

2005-03-04T12:39:00.001-08:00

It is Friday. I am burnt out and frustrated. I am without deep thought. I am resorting to that primitive part of the brain usually reserved for things like scratching, guzzling and potty jokes.

2005-03-04T12:39:00.000-08:00

Speaks for itself.

Size Does Matter When It Comes to Dinner!

2005-03-03T07:21:00.000-08:00

The delicacy below has generated the most attention this blog has ever seen, so I plan on riding this wave a day or two. I would like to supplement the photo with some text though:

Where would be the best place to enjoy such a treat, and with what company? I think I have found the perfect crowd.

It turns out that nudists are tired of being relegated to obscure beaches and fortress like resorts. Just because their flap jacks are free to flap does mean they shouldn't enjoy an elegant night out.

According to a 65 year old retired junior high teach, whom we are dying to see naked,
'It's exciting to be in a restaurant nude.' (I couldn't have said it better myself).

Remember though, nudity does not have to come without ornament.

The above teacher 'wore a necklace, earrings and a black leather 'genital bracelet' with red studs. And white sneakers.' Personally, the black leather genital bracelet with white sneakers is a little too 80's for me. Get with the times Teach!

For those of you who will celebrate the son of man taking the heat for the fall of man: 'Next month is our Easter bonnet event, where everybody has to come wearing an Easter bonnet.' ONLY an Easter Bonnet that is. Eden style without the shame is definitely the way to go.

2005-03-02T08:51:00.000-08:00

As the old saying goes, "One ox's hell is one chinatown shopper's paradise."

To Spend or Not to Spend

2005-03-01T07:00:00.000-08:00

Here's an existential dilemma for you. Free will. It is ours. Free will is good proof of human addition to masochistic behavior. We can't imagine life without free will so much we are willing to give our lives up to have it. We want is so much but it usually only serves to mess us up. Adam and Eve is one of the first parables of human earthly occupation, and even those early story tellers recognised the dilemma of free will. What those early tellers probably never imagined though is how constant that apple would be in our existence.

My question today is to spend or not to spend. I make enough not to complain. I lead a decent life, but still can't manage to get past paycheck to paycheck status. I don't have much to show off either in terms of posessions or vacations. So what is it that makes a paycheck so transient?

I try harder and harder each day to swear off a material existence. No new clothes. No gadgets. No fancy restaurants. I shun television, don't read magazines. The only way to survive I feel is to remove myself from it all. Remove myself from the common mentality that is.

I work in marketing so I know first how hand it all works. Marketing is a competition against society. Who will win? Will I persuade you to spend your money on something you do not need, tempt you with the illusion of saving money, or will you swear me off with your frugal strength. This is temptation far more evil than sex or drugs. There is no lingering guilt afterwards so people don't stop indulging. The temptation is so strong that we're made to feel patriotic by giving into our appetites. Ample spending makes a strong economy, and a strong economy means hardworking moms and dads will be feeding their kids tonight, and spending more. Why do you think GwB gave us all $300 the year he came to office? He didn't ask us to save it, he asked us to spend it.

The illusion is that everyone benefits from this. The reality is that fat people get fatter while those with barely a pot to piss in rack up their credit card debt.

Regardless of how it affects everyone else and the world, I am still only preoccupied with my own spending situation. I don't want to give up my freedom to choose, but I do wish there were more choices than just good and evil.

Sluts

2005-02-25T12:07:00.000-08:00

Lenin defines in his blog the difference between a slut and a wannabe slut.

According to the philospher king:
A real slut is fairly consistent in her sluttiness. She knows what she is and accepts it.
A slut-wannabe wants to have her cake and eat it, too. She'll be sucking the most random dick on Friday, and go to church on Sunday. She'll be whoring at a party, and then turn into Daddy's Obedient Little Girl when she goes back home.

There is plenty more, so check it out.

Now I think this is a brilliant evaluation. The slut is your classic femme fatale. The unfortunate thing is that the slut has to be stuck with such a negative label. All she is doing is enjoying the typical male's liberties. If casual sex is a moral evil, then it should be one for both men AND women. Unfortunately, the evil is often overlooked in men, and it is women who have to suffer indignities while the men get to have their vagina's and eat them too. This is why we have so many wannabe sluts walking around. Wannabe sluts are afraid to reveal to the world they are indeed sluts. I think this is poppycock. Wannabe sluts need to stand up and fight the oppressors who fuck them and then make them feel bad about it after.

This is a win-win situation. Everyone will get laid. And once we are too old for this to be sexy anymore, we can look forward to hell to continue the orgy (sex is wrong remember, or are we trying to change that).

2005-02-25T10:00:00.000-08:00

It ain't easy.

You ask for war, you get death.

2005-02-25T09:35:00.000-08:00

Lets go to war for a minute. Yes. Me and you. Not against each other, with each other, fighting a common enemy. We ship of, you and I, we get our rations, our guns, our fatigues and last our instructions. We are trained to kill. We want to survive. You and I, we are better suited for sitting at home snuggling our wife and teaching our kids the alphabet. But we are not home, we are in hostile territory. The image our own wife and son can't escape our heads, even when bullets try to enter them. Enemy fire is coming from a nearby window. We make our way into the building. We are panicking. We don't want to die. We just want to be with our wife and kid. There are people inside this building. They lie on the ground as if they are surrendering. We are relieved. Are they enemies? Who knows. This is a fucked up war, a fucked up situation, everyone is an enemy. Wife and son. Wife and son. Suddenly someone is moving towards something. Wife and son. Must stay alive. Is he alive? If so, is he an enemy? Will he try to fire at us? Wife and son. Don't risk it. Wife and son. We shoot him. We are one building closer to seeing our wife and son.

I am happy the soldier who found himself in this situation was found innocent. Sure it might be fucked up that he shot an unarmed man, but this is war. How much pressure can the human mind take? Fear is our self defense. And if this guy wasn't afraid and did it for kicks, I blame the military. If you condition a man to kill without remorse, then expect him to just that.

I want anyone who finds this man guilty of murder to go to war and find out how hard it is to not want to protect yourself. Condition yourself to believe that pulling the trigger is your only means to be home again. Or find out what it is like to spend years in battle and learn to kill a human with the non-chalance of swatting a fly. This wasn't Abu Gharib. This was the battlefield.

Dead Writers

2005-02-23T10:14:00.000-08:00

A week or two ago, I was waiting for the train to come, sitting next to some high school girl on the platform benches. She was holding Arthur Miller's The Crucible limply in her hand. Feeling inclined to a little small talk, I leaned toward her and said: 'You know, now that the dude is dead,' referring to Miller, 'that book is gonna be so much better now. Just like when an artist dies, and his work gets more famous.'

Well, she must have been very into that book, because she gave me a look as if I was Lucifer himself, or at least possessed by him.

The point of the story is, I am going to assume what I jokingly said to her is true,
and pull out my dusty copy of "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" and look for evidence of my statement.

I read that Thompson was a revolutionary journalist. Maybe so, I was born in '79, so I don't know. I do know however his books are a real trip, and I'm old enough to have experienced a Hunteresque trip myself. Tonight, I plan on taking 10 hits of acid and then try to negotiate with St. Peter to get this man committed into heaven.

Wish me luck.

2005-02-23T07:20:00.000-08:00

I think he's pointing it the wrong way.

2005-02-18T07:29:00.000-08:00

Looks like a carb, but this will help you lose the weight!

Cocaine, Cigarettes and Birth Control

2005-02-18T06:13:00.000-08:00

The above is what comes in your welcome packet when you embark on your new career as cocktail waitress in the Atlantic City hotel/casino The Borgata.

According to my source:

Now, new hires and incumbents are being weighed to establish a base weight. Once that weight is established, they face punishment if they gain more than 7 percent of that weight. They are weighed in uniform, without shoes.

I'm not going to go into detail about the chauvinist implications of this policy. I'll leave that to the feminists.
No, what I'd rather give is my general defense to the ordinary women who serve me my drinks at the other casinos.

I'm a gambling man. I love cards, the thrill of winning, the agony of losing. I love the self-deception of thinking that my mathematically inclined mind can actually out maneuver and beat the house. When I win, it is because I am brilliant. When I lose, the casino just got lucky. I also love the people in the Atlantic City casinos. I'm from NJ and there's no place that oozes NJ like Atlantic City. The city is slum and working class where there is no money, and gaudy and tacky where there is.

When you visit the casinos, you'll see the busloads of retirees, the bitter and old vets gaming away their pensions, the high rolling Asians, the guidos, the white trash, and ubiquitous veterened cocktail waitresses. Think diner waitress with an elite and sexy twist. These women were the smalltown beauty queens who chose local biker bar over college, and Lynard Skynard over domestic life. These are the 'locals' you met and fooled around with as a teenager vacationing 'down the shore,' all grown up.

What sets these women apart from the Borgata girls is that these women have been around the block, survived the journey, and are still around to give you your drink with a smile and a 'hear ya go hun.' These women know how to tell a penniless drunk he's had too much. These women know how to handle a pat on the ass: they don't tell management, they slap back. They don't loathe the men they serve and think them creepy. They know people and appreciate things that aren't pretty as much as things that are. These are real women. The Borgata girls know how to flirt for tips, but the cocktail waitresses that I have come to know and love know how to comfort you.
When my gin and tonic comes with a twist, that's exactly the kind of twist I am looking for.

My Intimate Fantasies Revealed: Part 1

2005-02-16T06:54:00.000-08:00

Sex is great. It is the pan-ultimate political philosophy. It is democratic, socialist, communist, fascist, and anarchist, w/o ever conflicting with itself. Sex is also banal and cheap, at least as a subject of artistic expression (forgive me for insulting anyone). Speaking generally, I feel that artists try to push the envelope with their art by being more explicit with the subject of sex. This is nonsense to me. Explicit sexual content in art does not push any envelopes. Rather, it just reminds most people of what they may have experienced the previous night with their loved one or booty call. The actual experience of sex, which is usually practiced privately, is more explicit and envelope pushing to a person than any artistic representation of it. On the contrary, what I think would be far more radical, and envelope pushing, would be to represent the subject of love without sex; go beyond the physical and challenge people to experience a sense of love with out physical benefits attached to it.

I recently watched the movie Baran, by the Persian director Majid Majidi. The hero of the movie develops a genuine love for a girl without exercising a single act of passion. The movie does this without even hinting that the man is dreaming about any act of passion (perhaps because of Muslim censorship). I thought this movie to be pretty radical because it dared a man to fall in love and give himself up to countless sacrifice for the sake of this love. There were no rewards for him. There was no sex. There was very little for him, save for an occasional glimpse of the girl he loved.

The love I saw in this movie reminded me of religious love. Most religions, both Eastern and Western, require people to develop a sense of love that goes beyond the physical. Love with no rewards. Love with no sex. Love that may even get you killed. My fantasy is to see artists challenging the world with this idea, this love. One does not have to be attached to religious dogma to experience this religious type of love either. This is independent of your affiliations.

Now I can't say that the movie Baran purposely represented this non physical love that I am writing about. This may have just been a matter of circumstance, as I doubt the Iranian government would allow anything other kind of 'love' to be portrayed in a movie. What I would like to see is a situation where one had every right and license to represent sex in every explicit detail that the artist desired. Instead of sex though, the artist chooses to forsake his ego and sexual desires and represent something more evolved in his work. If you were to ask me, its not difficult to push people to give into their temptations (which I don't thing is wrong either). Asking people to dissolve their egos and self-interests however, now that's pushing it.

Differences

2005-02-15T08:25:00.000-08:00

Ever feel out of place? Ever feel alone? Ever feel like you weave through one crowd, and then another, and never feel like you belong to any of them? But despite all of these feelings, you still stick around.

I don't understand those people who love to be popular, who are always part of the pack, and never seem to be alone by choice. I don't criticise this attitude. I mean, to each his own, right? I just don't fully get it because I don't 100% feel it. Today, though, I discovered that feeling like you're not part of the crowd isn't such a strange thing after all. I read that even nature produces these types, and when is nature ever wrong?

It turns out, Pluto may not be a planet anymore. By being non-conformist, they stripped it of its planetary status. They want to call it Kuiper Belt object, but Pluto, and countless third graders, insist on the contrary.

So if you are like Pluto, and you tend to hang around for the sake of it, but don't really fit in, think nothing of it. You may actually belong to something else, but you don't jive with them either, so you end up all alone. Look on the bright side (which is not that bright considering your distance from the center of attention): at least you are special and different enough that people are talking about you.

Wine

2005-02-13T12:11:00.000-08:00

I'm six months and counting now living with my sigfig, Ms. C. We share pretty much everything. This is new to me, but its welcome. Tonight, after a romantic, pseudo-valentine's dinner of seafood, done up Italian style, and two bottles of wine, we let ourselves drift towards our four poster bed, complete with freshly dry cleaned Moroccan comforter. We made ourselves comfortable, and plopped our feet next to each other atop the comfy mattress. Well, one thing lead to another, and we spent the better part of an hour making fun of each other's feet. Your's are too fat. Well, your middle toes are webbed. You have short nails. Yours look like paws.

As I reconstruct it in my mind, I can only say this - spontentaity, as well as complete lack of expecations, is completely fucking awesome. Tomorrow though, as I reconstruct this blog post, I will probably say - I shouldn't post when I am drunk.

2005-02-11T06:20:00.000-08:00

Divide and Conquer!

2005-02-11T06:19:00.000-08:00

We Shall Prevail!

What Shall We Do With The Clones?

2005-02-11T05:58:00.000-08:00

Try them in soup.
Try them in groups.
Roll up your sleaves.
Roll and ask Jeeves.
Keep them three days.
Keep them till May.
Eat them with scones.
Eat them they're drones.

The Big Rock Candy Mountain

2005-02-10T09:31:00.000-08:00

Sometimes its easier, even safer, to live in fantasy rather than reality. I think thats what vacations are all about. My personal getaway right now is this place called the Big Rock Candy Mountain. According to legend:

In the Big Rock Candy Mountain,
It's a land that's fair and bright,
The handouts grow on bushes
And you sleep out every night.

In the Big Rock Candy Mountain
You never change your socks
And little streams of alcohol
Come trickling down the rocks

And once I'm there:
I'm bound to stay
Where you sleep all day,
Where they hung the jerk
That invented work
In the Big Rock Candy Mountain.

2005-02-10T08:26:00.000-08:00

The perfect fantasy's outfit.

All My Friends Know the Low Rider

2005-02-09T05:32:00.000-08:00

This post is to remind, and/or warn, my fellow citizens to keep you underoos on the downlow, and the pants on the up and up, when passing through or visiting the progressivly pure state of VIRGIN-ya.

According to my source:
"The state's House of Delegates passed a bill Tuesday authorizing a $50 fine for anyone who displays his or her underpants in a ``lewd or indecent manner.'' "

Being an amateur lawyer (as well as a Cambodian Astro-Physicist), I want to take a second to interpret this law and propose some safety measures to enable all my homies and ho's in VA to express their much needed fashion sensibilities without warranting a summons from the courts. Notice the law states that one shall not wear his/her UNDERPANTS in a lewd or indecent manner. My question is, can something that isn't present be considered lewd or indecent? The obvious answer is NO.

The painfully clear solution is to leave the underpants in the drawers where they belong, keep the pants resting somewhere between the waist and mid butt cheek, and enjoy life a little while, sans souci as the French would say. Butt crack fashion is already popular amongst the pay-to-look-poor fashionistas of the East Village and Williamsburg. Why can't it be popular in Virgina? And even more, its perfectly safe! After all, can something as beautifully designed as the human butt crack ever be considered lewd or indecent? I think not!

Smoking a Super Bowl

2005-02-08T06:25:00.000-08:00

So here is my post super bowl prediction:

I believe that moral values and entropy follow the same general route, in that they both tend towards chaos. That said, Paul McCartney's recent Super Bowl half-time show will inevitably lead to more acid dropping, weed smoking, free-loving teenagers and here's how:

Last year's nipple slippage resulted in a messy campaign to bring moral values back to free broadcast entertainment, aka TV and radio. What came out of this campaign was a bunch of prudes, scapegoats and overprotective housewives. To clean up this year's half-time show, and keep the focus on good ol' fashioned morality, Paul McCartney graced the US with a few of his overplayed and cliched but still notable greatest hits. As I watched, I imagined living rooms across America, with adults swaying and singing along, spouses winking at each other, and kids and teenagers thinking 'who the hell is this?' And sure enough, the adults will drill their kids on how cool the Beatles were in their heyday.

So now fast forward a few days. Kids are in school talking about this Paul McCartney dude. One kid tells the rest that his parents told him that they used to write songs about LSD and smoke a lot of weed. Now all of the kids are interested.
Suddenly, all of the Beatles albums are selling out, and the parents think its cute.

What the parents don't know is that their little Johnny's and Sallies are packing the pipes and dropping specially formulated sugar cubes into their Red Bulls, and acting it out when Lennon declares 'All You Need Is Love!'

The moral of the story is, tripping out and making curious teenage love is ok, just don't tell anyone, and certainly don't put mention it on TV.

Weekenders

2005-02-05T10:07:00.000-08:00

So my impression of the blogging community is a bunch of ladies and gents with much on their mind holed up in the cubicles during normal operating business hours. At work, my computer is an extra appendage thats more important than my usual four. I'm attached to is so much that I avoid it like the plague when I am at home (except for at this moment of course). So, running with my above assumption about the blogging community, once you folks are let out for the weekend, do you still keep up with the blogs? I might check my email once on a sunday, but thats as much time as I want to spend in front of the screen. I hope the blogging community maintains the same weekend feeling that I do. I am going to try my hardest to maintain the blogger status quo, but it would be certainly easier if the status quo is already in tune with my own lazy behavior.

He's Just Not That Into You

2005-02-04T09:30:00.000-08:00

Or maybe he's just obeying the law.

According to my source:
Men in Costa Rica can now be sent to prison for trying to chat up women.

A new law says women can have men arrested for paying them unwanted compliments, reports Las Ultimas Noticias.

Offenders face punishments of up to 50 days in prison or a fine if found guilty.

Unwanted insults are still fair game.

Gettin Jiggy Wit-It!

2005-02-03T15:17:00.000-08:00

I will only support this movement because I miss the days when MTV actually was Music Television. No doubt MTV is pretty tasteless these days, but I'd say this is more a matter of art than morals.

The word on the street is that "[a] conservative media watchdog yesterday issued a report accusing MTV of blatantly selling sex to children...." Well, my first comment is "DUHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" My second comment is can you really stop a person from having sex? I think some people will not have it, no matter how strong the influence, and the other people will have it without any influence at all.

There are those who are conservative about pre-marital sex because of religious beliefs. This is almost universal religious dogma. I think that people who believe strongly about not having pre-marital sex will not have it, however strong the subliminal messages are. If such a person does deviate, blame his/her horny partner for putting on the pressure, and not the media for its content.

Now lets look at those without a deeply rooted belief against pre-marital sex. These people aren't deviants, perverts or worse, immoral. They are just people, and some may even be below the age of 18. Without a deep rooted belief against pms (pre-marital sex that is...though I will say that I am one of those people with a deep rooted belief against the other pms (but don't worry ladies, I am forever sympathetic)), a person will more likely engage in pms sooner than later. The thing to remember is that 'sooner' will most likely depend on how soon this person falls in love with the right person and decides he/she is ready to take the step. I don't think that MTV, with all its booty shakin ho's and smooth talkin gigaloes, will ever change this. MTV may implant the idea of sexuality into a young person's mind, but I doubt the Real World or a Jay-Z video ever prompted some 15 year old kid to invite the neighbor over for some good ol' fashion, no-holds-barred, no-strings-attached, classic romp-a-room (unless of course the neighbor happens to be some booty shakin ho or smooth talkin gigalo.)

So if you really are against MTV and the subliminal messages of its content, turn it off. If your kid whines, laugh, and look at them like your crazy. Also, MTV only airs such programming to make the money. They are not on a mission to get underaged teens all sexed up. No. They do what sells. The best way to stop them is to stop buying. Boycott their advertisers. I bet this would make them change their tune.

2005-02-02T10:27:00.000-08:00

Since I am brand new writing my own blog, I have no idea how I'll come up with enough material to not just post daily, but to actually entertain or inform as well. Maybe I'll get really good at it, and my current worries are all for nothing. Maybe too, providence will step in and lend a hand. I am going to rely on the latter.

Those of you familliar with comrade Ivan Lenin's may well know the NY air is polluted with errant conversations waiting to be overheard. Walking back from lunch I was honored to witness the following:

Scenario: Two armored car personnel (those people who carry around big bags of money) were walking down 47th checking out all the bling, sans big bags of cash. A vagrant walks up them to initiate a discourse.

Vagrant: Bloomberg told me I am supposed to collect $20 from you guys as a tax. Since you two are fellow brothas, I'll only charge you ten.

Armored Guy 1: (pointing to the gun on his hip): This is the only tax I'm gonna give ya.

Vagrant: You are breaking the law. I'm gonna report you.

Armored Guy 2: Damn these are some big diamonds!

The End

We Don't Need Your Stinkin Valentine's Day

2005-02-01T02:13:00.000-08:00

Attention all women: Band! Unite! The evil candy heart, rose propogating regime of Valentine's day needs to be defeated and you ladies are the persons chosen to do it.
You see ladies, those messengers of sweet little nothings, those candy hearts you know and love, are nothing more than gynecological saboteurs that you elect to put in your own mouth. Man has desecrated the heart, that symbol of purity and love, and through centuries of dominance, has submitted you to devouring your one great power out of the palm of his very hand.

Valentine's day must end! V-Day must conquer! Refuse to let your man take you to $75 prix fixe menus with complementary champagne or sever an innocent rose's stem in love's name. No. It must end.

Oh yeah...what the hell am I talking about?

The Power of Books

2005-01-31T09:30:00.000-08:00

So, reading about the Iraqi election in the Metro this morn, I realised that I might actually support the war in Iraq. I must say that I never believed in the threat of Iraqi WMD's. I also can't recall reading about an Iraqi terrorist before the war started. Once the war started, we saw some Iraqi terrorists (insurgents), but they are only loyal (to Saddam that is) citizens defending their homeland from what they see as an invader (not that I justify the spilling of any innocent blood). The reason I see the war as a necessary evil now, in the wake of the election, is largely due to a book I have recently read: "Reading Lolita in Tehran." Radical Islamic governments are a veritable time bomb against the US and Israel, and this book lends credence to this statement. My feeling is that the election just might nudge certain other countries into a more democratic Islam.

After reading about the political climate of Iran since its revolution in '79, the threat that Saddam was to the US seems more like a menacing kid throwing rocks than a formidable foe. "Reading Lolita..." spells out the hatred that the Ayatollas have been breeding in its youth since the revolution. While the book doesn't necessarily defend western "decadence" (the most common word used against the west by radical Islamists), it does defend personal freedoms, and does so through one woman's relationship with the literature that she loves.

I see the Iraqi election as a seed planted in the minds of the arab muslim general populace. Should democracy then flourish in Iraq, we might have a new model of how Islam and democracy can coexist in a government and society. This model may then serve to establish hope amongst those who are true to their Islamic roots and beliefs, but would do anything to enjoy the freedom Azar Nafisi sought in "Reading Lolita in Tehran."

I don't mean to whitewash the war, justify the spilling of innocent blood, or fully stand behind all of GwB's statements and actions regarding the war. I do however, want to accept the current reality and make something good out of it. I am not a proponent of spreading the "American way" to places outside of America, but I am a proponent of spreading democracy and tolerance, and we are on the verge of gaining this in Iraq. Let us all hope that a new brand of democracy may be born out of this, and let us all learn from it.

Manifesto

2005-01-28T20:41:00.000-08:00

This blog will be my brain's porcelain throne - the septic tank of my thoughts. My only wish is that someone find something sweet within its contents. For as they say: one man's trash is another man's treasure.

Delivery

2005-01-28T20:38:00.000-08:00

So it has been written (many, many times before) and so it shall be done. My blog is born today. I seek three wise men to herald its coming. Any interested applicants should please leave a comment.