Rest in peace christopher hitchens

To live life with no regrets

i seem to have this ongoing conversation with myself, each and every day, where i psyche myself out of just going through the motions (especially from a mental standpoint) that typically ends with the shawshank redemption morgan freeman character quote "get busy livin, or get busy dyin."

on the real.

while it sorta sucks that it took me almost 30 years to realize that i am in control of my own mental state -- that i have the power to discover contentment within myself for myself, no matter what circumstances may surround me -- at least i can be thankful i'm awake to the idea.

so many people in the world are clueless. they expect happiness to come to them, they expect things to line up properly, just because. i know, 'cuz i used to be one of those people.

i still have a long, long way to go. every day is a struggle, but it is a struggle that i know i can win -- I HAVE TO WIN -- and the reward of living life without regrets is the proverbial carrot that i won't stop chasing.

Almost dead? so fucking what?

while there are several things wrong with the above image (including atrocious spelling), i wonder if there might be some irony in the message.

why are we humans so fucking afraid of death? if you're worried about it, that means you haven't experienced it yet. further, if we haven't experienced it yet, how can we be so sure it's a bad thing?

obviously, it is a fear that seems to be quite universal among the living. but logic -- based on what i do know to be true -- would say i have nothing to fear, that death is really just the absence of life, and i didn't know i wasn't alive before i was born, so why would i know i was dead after i'm gone?

and the promises of eternal life and everlasting spiritual existence after you die by the delusionoids running the religion rackets? HA! they're sellin' wolf tickets, my friends. they're scared shitless (again, why? i dunno) and one way of feeling better about not existing is the group mind fallacy (so far as we can actually prove) that all the delusional folks get to go on living forever.

if our species doesn't destroy itself with weapons of mass fucking destruction, one day our sciences will make it possible to live forever. i truly believe that. exponential law leads us down that path and it's going to happen, eventually.

i wonder what ethical questions will come from that... and i wonder if the delusionoids will, by then, be seen for what they are: INSANE. maybe they'll even be banished to the crazy corner so they stop meddling in the affairs of the educated.

Pat robertson gets confused

not only does this highly influential delusionoid get confused about what his own god tells him he should do, but he also gets picky-n-choosey over how some clearly outlined god rules are understood when he's confronted about it.

this, my friends, is one of those delusionoid tactics that just...

will...

not...

DIE.

The truth about lightsabers

to be completely honest, i have thought about this scenario. more than once.

many times, in fact.

in college, in anticipation of episode one coming to the big screen, my nerdy college buddies and i all stocked up on lightsaber weaponry. during our many battles, i was nicked, scraped and sometimes full on bloodied with those fluorescent plastic tubes.

WHAT IF THEY WERE REAL?!?!

i wouldn't have lasted more than a few minutes. just turning the damn thing on would be a hazard. (though not as much of a suicide-inducing hazard as actually watching episode one).

(pie chart via skull swap)

(lightsaber duel image via my real life scrapbook. yes, that's a 12 years younger me squatting, going for the KILL)

In case you were in need of a good ear bleeding with my commentary

yikes. that was tough to sit through.

my grandma lois (she died in 2004) was a straight shooter skeptic. even though she was surrounded by "the lord" and "his people" her whole life, she never let on like any of it was for real. in fact, in private she used to tell me what she really thought: that it was all hogwash.

and she was right.

though an aunt of mine recently told me that during her last days she was pressured into "being saved" by her peers. there was little she could do to thwart it. a victim of several strokes, she could barely speak those last several weeks and she was rendered completely immobile.

those folks are just lucky i wasn't aware they were stomping on her fucking deathbed door.

HOW FUCKING SELFISH THESE DELUSIONOIDS ARE!!! IT'S ALL ABOUT THEM, WITH NO REGARD FOR REASON, LOGIC OR EMPIRICAL EVIDENCE.

they can't even let a woman die in peace!

FUCK THEM! FUCK THEM ALL!

Scurry memories

i saw this pic of the pet sematary kid, lil boy gage, over on ihmp and i immediately got goosebumps... like in that scary somebody's watching me sorta way.

i got goosebumps cuz this movie scared the bejeebusy SHIT outta me when i was a kid. remembering the collective trauma experienced by my sisters and i after watching it, i recently tried watching it again, to see if i could relive that fear factor moment.

the movie was so bad it was unwatchable.

nowadays, it's very hard to scare me, which sucks, 'cuz i used to LOOOOOOOVE horror movies. but, for the most part, i simply can't sit through them anymore because they're not scary anymore.

where's hollywood when you really fucking need 'em?

My name is patrick bateman...

last summer i joined one of those online dating websites. i got lucky with it early on, and then it's been suffering ever since. i might get one response for every 50-60 chicks i message. and that's just the first message. often that's all you get.

i'm starting to wonder if it's 'cuz i have bret easton ellis' murderous mayhem social critique turned novel, american psycho, listed as one of my favorite books.

Avoid the tailspin

i think about my grandma. every single day.

she's been dead for six years now; and not one fucking day goes by where i don't think about her. not one.

she was my biggest fan. my strongest supporter. my best friend.

and when she died, i was so hurt -- so damaged by the loss -- that i went into a self-destructive tailspin that stole away two and half fucking years of my life.

two and a half fucking entire years.

forgiving myself took almost as long.

i used to sit there, wasting away...

no one ever taught me about loss. no one prepared me for it.

for people who aren't ready, that shit can do some real damage real quick.

i can see how people find comfort in jesus and buddha and the whole gang. if you think your dead grandma is at a party in the sky with muhammad and jeebus, i can see how handling the death might be easier.

but i -- we -- know better. we know that all we can prove is that when you die, you're fucking dead -- erased from this existence. forever. for good.

done.

once something you hold close is lost, that something is fucking gone.

and you better handle your shit.

Alone

here's a rare occurrence:

i got on the bus. and...

no one was on it.

at 7 p.m.

i was all alone.

*cue the drama*

such is the life of a non-believer.

This is the one i saw...

...which is why no one understood when i said:

my favorite part is when harry bites off
phineas nigellus black's ballsack and shoves it down his throat.

(more cool stuff from these folks)

Depression is...

depression is going back to the excitement you had when you first saw this:

thinking about the endless possibilities of complete AWESOMENESS...

then being left there by yourself after having seen the phantom menace...

wondering...

WHAT THE FUCK KINDA CRAP SHIT FUCK WAS THAT?!?!

How to not eat grandma

for the longest time i thought i wanted to be cremated. i thought it'd be simpler.

but nowadays i feel that'd be a waste.

if i want to really contribute to society, to science, to progression, then i think i should donate my body to science.

except they make it really fucking hard to donate your body to science.

so if any of you out there find me dead some day, call this guy named manuel mentiras (if you snoop around my apartment you'll find his info) and he'll take care of the rest.

grazie!

;-)