i get this one a lot. since i'm such a staunch non-believer in god, i seem to get pummeled with the "then what about ghosts? huh?" line, as a last ditch effort to stop my "heresy" -- as if i should consider ghosts to be a truth even more than i would an invisible friend in the sky.
i don't know, what about ghosts? i've never seen one. never experienced one. never even known a person to claim to have had a real experience with one.
if you're super sly mcslicksalot, then you might know where i nabbed this sweet ass song. if not, it doesn't matter. just know that it works in just about any situation (i wanna punch something real hard, i wanna make love to something real hard, etc).
i'm ALWAYS cheering for grey. and often i'm doing it obnoxiously. how dare you not load as fast as i want you to, internet video. how fucking dare you!
upon reflection, my desire to have everything NOW without EVER waiting is a bit suspect, isn't it?
then again, like my dead grand daddy used to say, "they could put a man on the moon, but they can't fix this fucking pothole in front of my driveway..."
when i get frustrated (or when i'm driving), my go-to exclamation usually goes something like "ahh fuck you, you fucking shitfuck!"
that's right.
shitfuck.
i say it all the time. i like it. i like the gnarlyness that ekes out when i utter its sound, and, like its ugly cousin "motherfucker", its literal connotation goes places i don't wanna go.
but no one else says "shitfuck". i've never heard anyone else use it. did i make it up?
i have no idea, but i'm gonna keep touting it's magical properties.
every once in a while i'll stumble across something on the internet that really catches my fancy.
recently, through a friend of a friend of a friend on facebook, i tripped over this blog post from someone i've never met or heard of before and a couple hours later i felt like i was reading the pages of my very own running doppelganger.
i realized that i'm not alone in my running addiction and that in this bigass world, one can only be as alone as he allows himself to be.
i know, i know, how juvenile of you, zelig... how middleschool... how lame...
EXCEPT YOU'D BE WRONG ABOUT ALL THAT.
i was skeptical too when my buddy told me beavis and butthead were back and that they were even better than he remembered them from our junior high days.
before the pacquiao/marquez fight a few days ago, we sat down and watched a couple hours of the revamped episodes on mtv and i couldn't stop from laughing all that time. they're fucking stupid, but they're so fucking funny in that stupidity.
that's what they're about: they say shit that we all think but don't allow ourselves to say.
and i ain't ashamed of liking that sort of self-reflecting humor.
at the end of the day, i still find the above family situation to be a bit more responsible than that of the real duggars... but then again, i also believe in things like logic, reason, etc.
the juggalo phenomenon holds a curious piece of my heart. sometimes i feel like it's a pretty cool thing that such an oddly shunned group of folks can find happiness and unity in their own unique way.
but then, sometimes, i feel like these people are fucking mad.
this mini-doc sheds some light on both angles. i can't help but think the majority of the individuals featured here are high out of their fucking minds on anything from meth to LSD to nitrous oxide, but then again, they seem to be happy. and non-violent (for the most part).
i heard a kid on the bus the other day say to his mom that he was "bored". he had a smart phone in his hands, was playing some sort of video game and had headphones in his ears connected to an ipod mini.
are you fucking kidding me?
i haven't been "bored" since 1994. that was the year we got internet hooked up in our house. i would sit there staring at the screen for five minutes at a time, just begging all the images to load on my netscape browser.
i fucking love the internet. it's like this magical portal that takes me anywhere i wanna go. i often find myself on the couch, reading or watching tv or whatevs, and something pops in my mind that i do not know about, or i get to thinking that i'd like to know more about xyz subject... i simply whip out my droid or grab my laptop and BOOM!
i'm off.
like having a more user-friendly, faster, BETTER library, right in your goddamn lap.
with that, there should be no such thing as boredom.
we're just a dot on a massive, unfathomably unknowable universe. instead of fighting that truth, instead of waging war on logic and reason in the name of unprovable hope and the robotically faithful who follow such dogma, why not just tip yer cap and admit you can't possibly know all there is to know?
i've listened to kaskade's new album the requisite 10 times now, and while i'm not as blown away by him as i have been in the past, i gotta say, there are still some killer tracks to groove to.
this one called "Llove" is particularly badass.
my affinity for haunting yet airily soothing female vocals gets a rubdown, and the chanting keys in the background sure make this a close-yer-eyes-throw-yer-head-back type of jam.
when i hear the song, i'm transported back about 8 years, clubbin' my nuts off in hollyweird with beautiful women all around.
how do they do it?!?!? no, SERIOUSLY. how do these delusional jeebus-loving zombies get by with being so FUCKING STUPID!?!?
watch this, and try not to throw up:
snake oil. this motherfucker is selling bullshit, just like the rest of them. and it blows me away that idiots are lining up to try this sort of wishful rain dance of absurdity.
oh, you're not praying right. you gotta pray in a circle. you gotta pray harder. you gotta pray wisdom from the scriptures.
BULL.
SHIT.
if only such blind idiocy could be harnessed for something good, like, by actually helping people instead of hoping someone else will do it by "thinking" it.
as if com truise's uniquely eighties-dubbed-electro-yorg sound wasn't enough to do sexy time on yer ears, now he comes with an equally orgasmic-punched video.
this is one of those rare cases where the video TOTALLY fits the song, even if neither one makes much practical sense. that's what the 80s were all about: doing shit just to do it 'cuz it looked and sounded cool, even if it was mindless.
"jesus is the answer", "jesus saves", "what would jesus do"... these are all similar ways of saying the same thing: "we don't have a fuckin' clue what the meaning of life is so to make ourselves feel better about our ignorance, we'll just revert back to myths, legends and fairy tales because after hundreds of years we've managed to make calling us out for our bullshit quite an impolite gesture."
as a runner, i have nothing but respect for the man. his marathon achievements thus far are as inspiring as his training tips are effective and i love every bit of ryan's work ethic.
but the dude is fucking batcrazy delusional.
also, he's one of those preachy xtrian delusionoids who won't let an opportunity to speak about his god in public go amiss. here he is prior to this year's chicago marathon, talking about his training habits. he gets into the bible/jesusy shit around the 1:40 mark.
sorry, ryan. jeebus and god and the MAN MADE bible have nothing to do with the normal training techniques you're talking about.
your body needs rest. it especially needs rest if you put it through hard work. without rest, adaptation cannot take place, and you wouldn't do well in any sort of race. do you really need the bible to tell you to take a day off once in a while? do you need a bible to tell you to go pee when you have to go pee too?
and yes, of course, an abundance of counselors is going to be beneficial to your training. that's why we have think tanks and focus groups and congress (okay, maybe congress is a bad example). i don't see how the bible is necessary for you to ask others what their opinions/thoughts might be.
i have read advanced marathoning four times now, and the authors point out -- repeatedly -- how important the above principles are.
it has nothing to fucking do with the bible.
PS, i will still be there cheering for you in houston this january.
the tebowing phenomenon is splitting my sides with laughter.
every.
day.
i even got in on the action after finishing my recent 50K race:
the funniest aspect of tebowing, to me, is that every time he does it he's saying: HEY, LOOK AT ME EVERYONE. I'M PRAYING TO MY CHRISTIAN GOD AND THAT MAKES ME BETTER THAN YOU.
the gesture is just like those from the guys who do a little touchdown dance, or jump into the stands after they score.
it's called grandstanding.
so to all who feel OFFENDED by the tebowing sensation... y'all can suck it.
i love women of all shapes and sizes, but i have the most experience with the petite variety, and i must admit that i hold a special place in my heart for small gals. i am only 5'8 myself, so i guess my psyche probably gets off on being bigger than my mate; plus, for me, sex is more fun when you can pick your partner up and throw her around like a baton.
which is really just a long way of declaring (again) my undying love for natalie portman.
just because something can be done doesn't mean it should be done. i mean, yeah, i could take my pants off in the middle of a busy intersection and try to blow myself, but that doesn't make it a good idea.
i completed my first 50K trail race on saturday. it was fucking badass.
i don't know how else to explain it.
in fact, it's hard for me to describe a 5 hour endorphin trip that includes listlessly romping through the forest on a 55 degree morning with plenty of sun. the whole time i kept saying to myself, "this is the life, this is the life, this is the life"...
and everyone i came upon seemed to agree.
what shocks me is that most people don't enjoy running. i know it's not for everybody, but i do feel like adults could use a little play in their lives. for a good part of the race i was clicking my heels and doing twisted leaps down the rocky trails, the smile on my face stretching from one end to the other.
i can't wait to do more. i even signed up for my next challenge: a 50 miler.
when it comes to the holy roller healers and the megachurch statesmen and the people they supposedly heal or help through the power of "god" and "jeebus" and all that jazz, who is more insane? the actual healer/statesman or the poor sap who goes along with the act?
i can't tell.
but there has to be some sort of mutual fucked-up-edness between them, right? like, they both know they're full of shit, but they go through the act of it all anyway, just because it feels good to be a part of a group, no matter how insane (i think???).
this woman featured in the video below supposedly can't talk until jeebus helps her unroll her tongue (around the 2:08 mark). then, the only thing that comes out is jibberish that xtrian folk like to call "speaking in tongues", as if their special god gave them the special gift to speak a special language that no one can fucking understand, special or not.
... i can't stop laughing. shit like this will have me rolling for hours. in fact, i saw this for the first time four days ago and every time i think of it i start laughing.
try for yourself:
"mexican people don't eat sugar, especially when it's a mixture of lice and tiger DNA."
if religious folks WERE all about peace, then they would stop the centuries and centuries of hate, of discrimination, of slander, of WAR, of claiming they're right and you're wrong.
the bible is full of hate. sure there's some feel-good shit in there too, but much of it is hate. hate against women, hate against non-jews, hate against gay folks, brown folks, etc. the koran is also full of hate. THE PENALTY FOR APOSTASY IS DEATH.
and now, this. someone pokes fun at islamic delusions and the muslims respond by blowing some shit up. again.
practitioners of peace my ass.
some sorta of twistedly sick fucking joke, that's what this is.
on saturday, i'll be taking my first shot at running the 50K distance. i'll be running on trails, in a warm climate and my pops is gonna be there to make sure i don't die.
haha. just playin'. 50K (31 miles) isn't much more than a marathon, so i know i'll be just fine. still, since this is my virgin voyage, i can't help but acknowledge that i do have some nerves piling up.
i've decided to not race it, to just take my time and enjoy the journey, wherever it takes me (hopefully not off course!)... and in making that decision i realized that my plan is quite the cliche metaphor for life.
well, shit, things become cliche because they're RIGHT, right?
rick perry is a fucking loony bin. he believes fairy tales and encourages the people of his state to find solutions to their problems by begging his invisible friends (or is jesus, god and the holy ghost the same fucking thing???). this much is true. i've already mentioned it. many times.
but being a loony bin delusionoid isn't a prerequisite to being a prick.
being a politician, however, is (in my opinion anyway).
look at this fucker's smirky grin as he spins shit around with his smarmy accent and product aided hair pomp.
DO YOU REALLY THINK THIS MOTHERFUCKER GIVES TWO SHITS ABOUT YOU? DO YOU REALLY THINK HE GIVES TWO SHITS ABOUT WHETHER YOU, JOE BLOW, HAVE A FUCKING JOB? DO YOU REALLY THINK HE CARES WHETHER YOU'RE ABLE TO MAKE YOUR MORTGAGE PAYMENTS?
i don't care if his name is obama, perry or abraham fucking lincoln. at the end of the day, the rich suit directing traffic doesn't care about you, or me.
money. power. toys.
that's what they care about. and having once been on the side of the fence where we make excuses for these shitheads, i now proudly proclaim that you'll be much better off as a local level progressive than waiting for these assholes to fix shit.
'cuz they just keep making the problems bigger and bigger and bigger and...
of course, this isn't the first time i've fallen in love with a picture on the interwebs. i haven't been able to shake *this one* for well over a year.
i write the world... among other things.
it's over 4 billion years old, so there's a lot of shit to write... and i like getting your emails:
skygodblog@gmail.com
