All I know is that I don't know.
All I know is that I don't know nuthin'.
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Wednesday, October 29, 2003
*scarcastically clapping*. Bravo, US Drug Policy. Bravo.
I am getting mighty, mighty tired of my current bout of depression. I'm starting to hit levels that I've not experienced since college or since I got my ass dumped.
Used to be that I would channel the depression and anger (oh, so much anger) creatively. Songs, movie scripts, acting -- all that fun stuff.
This blog is my creative outlet now, and it's not all that creative. I've been thinking of trying to work on my Art-house Movie again. It's called Debaser, after the song by The Pixies, which took its inspiration from Un Chien Andalou, a film by Salvador Dali and Luis Buñel.
The goal of my movie, which thusfar only lives in my head, is meant to punish humanity for being inhumane. I want people to see it, and become enraged. I want them to hate it. I want to offend each and every religous, ethnic, social, sexual, economic, political, and any other -al group there is.
< Jack >
I want to put a bullet in the head of every panda that won't screw to save its species.
< /Jack >
I admit that I stole the idea of enraging the audience from Bertholt Brecht, who wanted to accomplish a similar thing with his play "Mother Courage", but he was mainly focused on war profiteering. I am focused on making the world feel as down as I do.
I'd describe some of the scenes in my head, but, seriously, they are not cool. Not cool at all. I want to offend humanity in general, not the people reading this blog. People like Pastor Jeff, Mark, Dad, Jamie, Anna, Tim, Dav, and anyone else who happens by looking for the Wuzzles Theme Song or wondering if Daniel Radcliffe has a girlfriend or if Emma Watson likes being spanked.
There are some strange search terms that lead here.
Upon checking those search terms, it seems that I am not the only person with a wicked crush on Rachel Harris from "The Daily Show" and "I Love the '80s Strikes Back". She's hot, she's witty, she's got glasses -- what's not to dig about that?
I'm working on a list of asses that need to be kicked. By me.
1) My back. I am totally going to kick my back's ass. It's all acting up and being sore and starting rumors about me and shit. Fuck that. I'm gonna throw down and kick some back ass.
2) This one country song that was basically the Book of Job. "I don't know why my 17-year-old cousin died in that car crash, but, hey, I wasn't here when You hung the stars." Underlying message: Fuck off. Your life sucks because God wants it that way. Shut the fuck up and accept your fate. You are powerless to change what God has determined what your life will be. If your life is complete and utter shit, it's because God wants your life to be complete and utter shit because of His Divine Plan That You Don't Understand Because You Aren't God. Then again, I don't understand the Book of Job at all. Why did God have to prove anything to Satan in the first place?
3) Depression. But, I'd feel bad about kicking it's ass, since it's all stupid and pathetic and worthless and dumb in the first place. It'd just drag me down to its level. What would be the point. I'm a loser.
Oddly enough, I don't want to kick my ass's ass. Things have been behaving themselves down there. But, man, if they get uppity... *pounds fist into palm*
Comments by: YACCS