However, if they were plunged into a nightmarish world of flying snakes,they would not have the capacity to alert their brethren to the exact nature of the threat.

That's a line from my Linguistics homework...nightmarish indeed! But what about snakes on a motherfrenching plane? Then those are technically flying snakes huh?

Thanks folks...I'm here all week!

At the Harrison St. Bus stop there's some graffiti, but it's not normal graffiti...it's a drawing of a molecule

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Techdirt brings up an interesting point.

Think about it, if a woman who made a fake myspace persona can be held under charges of hacking, why can't these police officers? Are they actually safe under the auspices of "undercover" work?

Also, while we're at it, let's start fining people for humming. That is after all copyright infringement!

I write things..and then I make suckers on the internet read it.

I write, a lot actually. More so than I blog and now more so than I journal.  For the most part, my scribblings suck. It's not written well and it's always half finished.  It's hard for me to keep a coherent story line in my head when I'm always bombarded by different thoughts.  Part of the reason why I'm typing everything up is because I hope it'll help me keep better track of things, plus it's easier to move text on a computer than it is to move it on paper.  

I'm going to start posting SOME of my work on my blog.  Let me know what you think.  Feedback is greatly appreciated.  Thanks. 

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If you could only, if you could only slow down for a couple of minutes, for a few seconds. Just so that I had time to catch what you were saying. I've known you or so long and yet I still haven't gotten caught up to your speed of things. I still aren't fast enough.

Speak up one at a time. It's hard to listen to who is most important. One voice panicking, another stupidly singing along, and you—you with all the answers, although none of them most likely right, muffled, muted and just a second or two too fast for me to catch up. And what I am, what I am used to is left in the dust, having caught only a few fragmentary sentences that make no sense. Left in a confused state, where I'll try to piece together all I was able to catch into something not coherent and something which I'll ultimately abhor—and you'll be gone.

Just stop running. Just give me a second to mesh with you. To see who I should be instead of always leaving me behind. Just, just wait.  

I am not entirely sure what to write.  It's sort of like reminiscing, but not...I suppose because I wasn't around to live in those days.  Nor is anything that I am going to say be of any merit.  I must forewarn you, this will be a ramble at best.  

 

I suppose my questioning is "What happened?"Forty years ago, the youth in this country were extremely active.  Politically.  They didn't like something they took the the streets.  They rallied together, they brought forth change.  That was at a time when no one had cell phones, there weren't any blogs, there weren't ways to get information as quickly as easily as you can today.  No one twittered "Rally at the SAC 4pm." and masses would show up. (Which you can use to do!) But now, now our rights are being stepped upon and all we did was rally behind a presidential candidate who, is far better than what he had, but by no means the solution and sit back and shut up now that it's over.  Which it's most certainly is not, not by a long shot. 

Growing up, I loved history.  Infact I still love history, I just never full appreciated US History (with the exception of 8th grade, because Mr. Otlowski, you are a wonderful history teacher and you actually made it exciting, fun and relevant!) until I grew up and realized the importance of such paperwork as the Declaration of Indepence and the US Constitution.  These rights ladies and gentlemen, the liberties you have, these freedoms, well they get trampled on, you just don't notice it because it's under the veil of, well there's terrorists or it doesn't affect me.  But once one group of people gets their rights trampled on,  it's just as easy to have your rights trampled on and by the time they're coming for you.  It's already too late.  You might think what do I have to lose, if I've got nothing to hide then who cares who is listening, then who cares what is happening to the guy down the street and so on and so forth.  But the thing is, it does matter who is listening, because they shouldn't be listening, even if you are just talking to your friend about the delicious sandwich you just had.  

Shit's in a mess, you need to open up your ears and clean out your eyes and when you do, well of course there will be fancy little shirts, buttons, bumper stickers and of course all wonderful animated gifs for you to bombard your shitastically coded myspace pages and you'll feel like you're doing something, because really what can you do? Your dissent is commodified and even if it's not your dissent you own up to it because it's the cool thing to do.  Aye aye aye.  It sucks feeling trapped.  

They used to say you couldn't trust anyone over 30, now I feel like you can't depend on anyone under 30 to know what the fuck is going on. 

This turned into a ramble.  One which I'll falsely promise to revisit and edit.  I promise. But it's time for sleep and my head is a mess.  Good night. 

Another Day, Another Ramble.

Blogging from bed is pretty nice. It has it's perks I'll tell you that.  Especially when your beloved reupholstered computer chair isn't aging too delicately and you hold on to it for sheer love of the fabric than the chair itself.   Perhaps when I get some extra money I'll splure on a new chair...and of course some new fabric! 

I wrote quite a bit last night and part of me is done trying to compose some sort of story together.  I have an rough idea in mind, I figure the rest will just naturally fall into place from everything I have written.  So why not just keep at it and keep at it until all of the pieces do fit together? 

I'm slowly starting to figure things out.  I don't want to spend my life writing "updated through..." that would depress me immensely and that is exactly what I started flipping out about yesterday. But I think I have somewhere to go now.  I'll figure something out. 

I printed out Little Brother today.  I'm going to start reading that. 

This entry was pointless, but isn't everything?

Don't talk to me like I'm five:

This is a tilde : ~. The squiggle used in websites. It has a hundred other uses.

This ≈ is an approximation.

I know what the hell I'm doing, maybe you should learn not to talk down to people.

Because federal money really needs to be spent on this:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/entertainment/8032720.stm

Really?! All this over a titty that passed in the blink of an eye! Terrific!