in a way, this is a way for change.

the change that is an inevitable reaction to the failing of the international market created by the globalization of the last two decades may or may not be good for our ilk.

those who follow the these of illogical post operationalization.

perhaps, anyone who follows any ideals outside mainstream religion or politics.

the biggest question is: what kind era are we opening to?

—

this era is ending with rampant disillusionment. while it began with a few of us, who saw the crippling nature of our society long ago, ranting into the wind with no one paying attention, it is ending with us almost feeling smug and happy to finally watch it crumble.

we (in america especially) live in a society driven by entitlement and creature comfort. days after borrowing 85 billion from the Federal Reserve, AIG was found to be spending that money on golf retreats, facials, massages, and other things i will never have enough money to do in my entire life. while the stocks for companies like google, yahoo, and facebook were tanking, many of their respective members were too busy hanging out in a mansion on the Turkish coastline making drunk and stupid online videos to realize that all the people in their companies were going to be extremely fucking pissed when they got back into the good old u. s. of a.

—

so my question is this:

how do we direct the conversation of this change to focus on what labor is really worth. it seems that while many of these people made their fortunes with hard work, once the fortune was in their hands, they spent their days piddling around wasting money and expecting people who were being paid fuck-all to keep making money for them (surprisingly, Kevin Rose doesn’t spring to mind as he actually seems to still work on his website a good bit on a personal level.).

how do we really make people understand, that even with a great person running a company/corporation/what-have-you, who had great ideas and their ideas spurred this massive profit-producing behemoth; that these people, in their capacity to keep the company afloat, are only worth as much as those who work for them. would any one of these individuals be able to have built their financial empires completely on their own without ever having anyone elses help?

of course not.

in a way, it brings to mind Marx’s critical history of technology. it seems at this point, we need another Marx. what we need is simply a man, who can make us realize that none of us is inherently “better” than anyone else, nor are we inherently “worse.” we all have our strengths, our weaknesses, our successes, our failures, some are big, some are small, and some are things only we as individuals will ever know about but will treasure until our deaths.

—

as i pen this, drowsily, lazily, not even really sure what or why im writing, all i know is that things are changing, there is a shift.
i know that maybe its time for our ideas to truly come to fruition, but how to expound upon such ideas so they will be understood and digested amongst the regular populace?

regardless.

the shift is happening. whether it will result in a new society founded on reason or it will become our worst nightmare of a police state created by the rich and powerful and corrupt, we can only wait to find out.

we can only spend our time waiting lucratively. speaking out, being daring, crazy, and unpredictable. above all else, we must be able to question our own beliefs and change ourselves accordingly.

if we cannot do that, i fear the worst.

—

by the way,
i finished playing Arcanum.

i guess that could kind of be a bad thing as its going to heavily distract me from working on the website.

sorry everybody.

excuse me while i waste my life for a little while before i get back to slowly getting things done around here.

so, i went to see the golden compass, right?

i had read this brilliant book by philip pullman and was excited as to how these in depth characters might be portrayed in film.

—-

this is probably the worst film adaptation of a book ever. i do not say that lightly.

i am fully convinced that if i had not come to the film reading the book previously, i wouldnt have the slightest clue as to what the fuck was going on and nor would i care to know.

golden compass the book = smarter than harry potter the book
golden compass the movie = harry potter the movie gets an academy award for best picture

if someone can make a decent harry fucking potter movie, then why cant anyone do anything with a book that was written with adults in mind, anyway.

—-

so, in conclusion, ive decided that for people who didnt know anything about the book, they must have just gone to the movie for this.

and really, you could have found a video of this on the internet and watched it at home… like i just did.

—-

side note: apparently some douchebags got wind of the “anti-christian themes“ in the film and i guess theres a lot of huff-and-puff about it.

thats really all i had to say about that. oh gnoes a fantasy book that makes religion look bad!

whatever.

the slow rain trills quietly on the black windows. its four thirty a.m. and ive decided to do something im not supposed to do. im only supposed to check if this suite is locked and not enter it.

but ive decided i want to see the view from the eleventh story in the dark rain from over this ugly blue carpet chosen by a company that went bankrupt and disappeared, leaving only the keyboards and packing peanuts.

not sure why i feel the need to do so i place my hands on the window and press up close to the pane so my shadow blocks out the light behind me and i see through the glass more clearly.

im staring out over the parking garages at SeaTac airport. i see tails of planes over the crest of some buildings. there is that one structure, ive never figured out what it is, but at certain times, it pours out a deluge of water, spraying mist above it. it is doing this right now, the mist is cloaking over and intermixing with the rain.

the unending stream of cars in and out of the airport is fast paced even at this time of morning. each of the streetlights reflects down in the rain below it as a solitary dot whose light doesnt seem to diffuse as well as it should on a non-rain slicked surface.

i turn my head for just a moment.

the blue carpet is still here. one of the window blinds is moving slightly and tapping against the glass in one of the two actual private offices in this suite.

i wonder if seeing this view all the time makes it any less surreal and chilling. im not even sure why id call it chilling other than the goose bumps i keep getting all over me.

i want to lean out past the glass and feel the rain.

its at this point that i realize that i wish you were here with me.

and all ive got to say is this: its not hosted on my computer and the comments work fucking fine for me.

conclusion: everyone but me is fucking retarded.

when there are more stories with titles and descriptions that contain horrendous misspellings of very basic words than there are stories with correct spelling, punctuation, and grammar, i am not only dumbfounded, but upset.

we are very lucky to have such a well-documented language as our own. knowing spellings and specific definitions for a word helps people more thoroughly understand each other and what intent they have with their words.

slang, while very useful and an obvious evolution of language, often leads to dumbing-down as people will overuse some words, while not attempting to learn new words that more accurately describe what they are trying to say.

i dont know where im going with this except that to say digg users have horrid vocabularies and cannot spell worth a damn.

i would read metafilter a lot more, but it doesnt update as often.

disparate water particles
infinitely tinny droplets
moving in waves over me

nubilous skies speak of storms
i stretch my arms out
embracing the water and the sky

the kiss of this mist lulls me
a kind of security
straying from reality

i have been here for hours
my body begins to ache
from the strain of my embrace

i falter and shiver
i fall on my hands and knees
my embrace was not reciprocated

the blood flows
from my knees and toes and palms
mixing with the salty water of the sound

the stiff crisp air touches
the back of the inside of my skull
my head fills with briny mists

my eyes roll back in my head
i claim the right to be unhappy
i claim the right to pain

the sky and the mist and the ocean
are not my equals
but i am not their servant

soon my mother finds me
holds this tiny crying child
and draws me inside

protecting me from the oncoming storm
protecting me from love
protecting me from hurt

as she carries me
my eyes turn back to
the beach the sky the ocean

i did not ask to be saved from any of this.

I am also very lazy and am intermittently stricken with long bouts of apathy.

But, now I have acquired a second job which makes things a bit more interesting. I will probably have to write about it in order to stay a little grounded.

I just got a job at Oregon Funeral Service, Inc., which I will be working on my off days from The Jefferson Theater. So, when I’m not ushering people into the jack off room I’ll be picking their dead asses up and taking them to their final resting place.

You are here on Earth to jizz as much as possible, then you die. I’m here to help with both.