Corpse Carnage

It figures the one night I have actually stuff to turn in to class, my IRL blog buddy shows up at my doorstep and says he needs to talk.

As all has not been well for me recently, so has life not always been perfect for my circle of friends, and especially not the one guy I hang out with on a regular basis.  It's 2010, and the fact of the matter is that it's gotten harder to make friends.  Blame it on the Internet, blame it on iPods, blame it on politics, or just blame it on us.  All either of us knows for sure is that it isn't quite freshman year anymore.

Despite dealing with my own little existential crisis, I can't say I'm the best at helping others cope with their problems.  All I can do is lend them a listening ear, set aside a place to chill in my room, and offer platitudes such as "it isn't quite freshman year anymore," or "I'm sure things will get easier."  Or, "Maybe you should stop reading shit out loud.  Seriously, I'm a visual learner anyway, and besides...just stop reading shit out loud."

We got done talking for the night, seeing as how it was 11:00 and time for the Daily Show to come on.  He took a spot by my computer, which I needed to grab in order to finish a couple of assignments due the next morning.  I stress morning, and preface it with an "8 o'clock in the..."  Just so you know how inadvisable a late night was under the circumstances.

About ten minutes into the Daily Show, I saw my buddy getting on to a site to shoot up some zombies (something called "Corpse Carnage," I can only assume).  And I couldn't help but think quietly to myself, "What the heck?  The Daily Show is on right now.  You were the one who wanted to change the channel, aren't you even going to watch?"  Granted, I wasn't paying too much attention either, but that's because I had a homework assignment out.

It was about an hour into his game (and well into the Colbert Report) when I asked, "Are you going to get off my computer?"  He's all like, "I'm almost done with this."  By "almost," I can only assume he meant somewhere in the area of thirty to forty more minutes.

I knew he wanted to catch the midnight run of "South Park," seeing as how we were both waiting to see how the cliffhanger would be resolved.  Even so, as we watched the first few minutes of "Mysterion Rises," I couldn't help but feel the ever-growing twinge of tension as my buddy continued to mow down zombies from my computer.

There are two reasons I have added this post.  The first is relatively self-explanatory once you realize that not many people can run on four hours of sleep.  He finally left once South Park was over, but the homework I needed to complete on the computer ended up occupying me until I went to bed at the third strike of three o'clock.  Needless to say, I'm still a little tired right now.

The second, which finally got us to stop debating whether it's pronounced "kuh-thoo-loo" or "kuh-too-loo," was the reveal of Mysterion's identity and the secret of his power.  At the beginning of the episode, he notes his secret ability, something of a "curse" more than a gift, but the moment Mysterion's identity was revealed, two and two quickly came together as my buddy and I came to utter three simple words:  "He can't die."

My buddy, ever the otaku of my circle of friends, was quick to notice the "Tortoro" reference with Cartman riding Cthulhu.  He couldn't stop laughing at the song playing as the two monsters, human and unreal cosmic entity, went on a rampage, while I couldn't stop thinking to myself, "Cartman, of all people, would be the one to tame Cthulhu..."

Oh, and from what he's told me, it is pronounced "kuh-too-loo."  That 'h' at the beginning is silent.

I Am You, I...Am KanYEEE-EEEE-EEEE

Sorry about not updating quickly.  Been busy with a paper.  And a test.  What can I say, school happens.

I would worry about the video stretching out into my adspace.  But hey, you can just click to go to YouTube.

I'll give you a quick synopsis of the video:  It's Christine O'Donnell.  She sings through autotune.  She then proceeds to barge into a House meeting, informing the audience, "Yo, Pelosi, Imma let you finish, but Sarah Palin had one of the best campaigns of all time!  One of the best campaigns of all time!"

"Crowd Control"

First of all, I can't believe it needs to be said in this country, in this day and age, that violence against others is a bad idea. 

Now, I'm sure many of you are saying, "Well, if we're in danger, and the other guy is a murderous psychopath, and we have to protect our homes or our lives or something, then violence is okay..."

Yes, in that hypothetical situation, violence is a necessary evil.  The key word, of course, being "evil."  We are supposed to use violence only as a last resort and only when absolutely, unquestionably necessary, and not just to make a point.

I don't know what it is about us hot-blooded Americans and that testosterone in our systems that seems to just screw up anything we put our minds to.  I don't know if it's something in the water, or our food, or if it's what we see on TV or the movies that makes us more prone to violence, but the fact of the matter is that we see violence as a one-size-fits-all solution to whatever problems we're facing, rather than the last resort it should be.

I think it needs to be said that we are lucky enough to be in America, where violence typically shouldn't be necessary.  It's true that we have gangbangers, rapists, murderers, and Juggalos, but these individuals are the exception rather than the rule.  The fact that we have a relatively efficient legal system with which to process these dangerous individuals is all the more reason for us to refrain from violence ourselves rather than stoop to the level of thugs or gangsters.

I stress again that these psychopaths are the exception rather than the rule.  It's true, there are many people in our day-to-day lives we have disagreements with.  They could be friends, co-workers, family, and, hypothetically, a protester who happens to be at your rally.  And these disagreements could involve things such as finances, property, relationships, or, speaking hypothetically, wearing a blonde wig and getting too close to your candidate while holding up a sign that basically says "Screw your candidate."

However, this does not mean that one should respond to these individuals, and deal with these disagreements, using violence.

Tensions are high in this country.  Campaigns lately have been more personality-driven than possibly ever before, with Obama himself as a prime example.  The latest candidates such as Palin or O'Connell haven't helped matters much in that regard.  However, the fact of the matter is that the country's disgust with its political institutions has become so severe that we now end up demonizing whoever's in charge.  It happened with Bush, and it's happening again with Obama and the Democratic party.  (It's happening literally with O'Connell...)

Like many people, I get my news from Comedy Central, America's most trusted source of talking poo and blind black white supremacists, so imagine my surprise during The Daily Show's Moment of Zen the other day when I saw Americans attacking...other Americans.  The reason?  Well, it either has something to do with their beliefs, or, as one of the attackers noted later, they thought she was a security risk, and pinned her to the ground.

Embedded below is a video of Rand Paul supporters at a rally as they try to do some crowd control.  (The video stretches out to the right side of my screen, otherwise this post would have been a lot shorter.)  Watch as they tackle the "security risk" to the ground, rip off her wig, and then proceed to stomp on her.



A few notes.  First of all, up until the 0:20 mark, our crowd control personnel haven't really done anything overtly "evil."  I mean, yes, they tackle her to the ground and all that, but if we are to believe their story, they were still under the assumption that she was trying to assault the supporters, if not Rand Paul himself.  In fact, you can hear them asking for police support (though you can't help but wonder if they were simply trying to cover up their bullying by asking for an adult...).

Also, you see that guy who steps in after the 0:20 mark, and puts his foot against her head to stomp her skull-first into the pavement?  Yeah, you see that guy?  Well, he's the county organizer for Paul's campaign.  Or, luckily, he was, seeing as how he was booted off the campaign following the incident.

Also, he wants an apology.  As in, the guy who stomped someone's head into the ground, wants an apology, from the individual who was on the receiving end of his foot upon said stomping.

Note:  The Brewsky is not amused.

However, the Brewsky will not resort to violence, since violence is morally reprehensible, but instead wishes for a civilized discussion on why it is wrong to ask for an apology from someone you've given a concussion to.

You Can Work Out While Watching TV!

I'm going to make this quick, since I'm trying to write something else at the moment.  Since I'm messing around on Google, though, I came across this article from a fellow writer who says that it's easier to work out while watching a baseball game or "Real Housewives of New Jersey" than it is to...not work out with the TV on.

Somehow I doubt that's the case.  In the case of America's national pasttime, it's easier just to fall asleep, and in the case of Housewives, it's easier just to throw one's TV out the window (too bad I'm on a second story).

In fact, for those of you who can't multi-task, I don't recommend exercising and watching TV at the same time.  Or, for that matter, working on a paper and surfing the Web at the same time.  It just doesn't work.

Note:  The Brewsky is funny, yes it's funny...I'm sorry, an enthusiastic contributor and yeah, you're real funny.  C'mon, man, just calm down.  No, you're just funny, Tommy.  It's just...calm down, Tommy, it's just the way you tell the story.  He doesn't mean any disrespect...oh, Tommy was joking.  Ha ha, Tommmy was...JESUS CHRIST, he just SHOT THE GUY!

A Knife to a Gunfight

As you can probably gather from my previous post, I've had a rather...trying weekend.  The anguish of my soul, the pangs of my heart, the trials of coming up with something remotely poetic to reflect my own inner turmoil.

It has been a very difficult weekend, coming face-to-face with the realization that, good a friend as she may be, she simply may not be my one and only, my soulmate, my kindred spirit, the light of my life...

It's a very difficult thing, facing something like that.  Where do I go from here?  Where do I go from her?  How do I move on from something so meaningful, how do I give it up, how do I throw away something so full of life and passion, that everything afterward only seems dead and fruitless?  Who else laughs at my every word, beams at my every gesture, finishes my every sentence?

I say the word "soulmate" knowing that, like so many other words, is constantly, casually tossed around by the soulless, homogenized, Hallmark-driven propagators of that similar, soulless, homogenized word called "love."  I know many of us are de-sensitized to this word, and that word, because those words have been robbed of all meaning.  Knowing all this, though, I also cannot think of any other words to describe her.  She is my soulmate.  She is my love.  All I can think about is her.  I cannot imagine life without her.

Don't get me wrong, though.  We have not thrown that away.  If anything, we have treasured our time together.  The cold, hard reality facing what I have presumed to blaspheme with such words as "soulmate" and "love" is that neither of us is truly ready to live those words.  Neither of us is ready to begin a relationship.  We--or perhaps she--or maybe it's just me--are simply not ready to give ourselves up to one another.  It's a tough pill to swallow--I'm choking on it at the moment--but it's simply the truth.

For those of you who have never gone through that, I do admit to feeling something along the lines of envy, jealousy.  For those of you who have never had your heart torn and broken, I can only wonder endlessly what that used to feel like.  I will not pretend that it is never better to feel that way, to be numb and impervious to this monstrous, damning, consuming word called "love."  For they say, "It is better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all." 

If, however, the unthinkable mind behind those words was talking of my kind of love, the kind of infatuation which knows no bounds, that it is better to lose that, to give up...well, not feeling like crap...for that awesome and terrifying sort of burden between two people, all I have to say is one word:

Bullshit.

Coming off the heels of what one might call my little crisis of faith, I find myself in the notable predicament of trying to resume business as usual, which might be the toughest matter of all to attend to.  What could there possibly be going on that could distract me from that little, faith-shattering, heart-rending business of mine with the only woman I've ever loved...



What the hell is this?

For those of you who don't know who Christine O'Donnell is, she is a Biblical activist who, back in that innocent time known as the 90's, campaigned against masturbation  on MTV (back when MTV actually played music), and who confessed that she would have been willing to give up Anne Frank to Hitler (because God doesn't want us to lie).  So what has she done to make up for her disgusting comments...I mean, "youthful transgressions"?

Well, for one, she is the current Tea Party candidate in Delaware, who despite having a reputation as an anti-masturbation activist and a witch, was somehow not beaten in the primaries.

And, despite being a member of the Tea Party and a candidate for the U.S. Senate, she apparently doesn't understand that the Constitution expressly forbids the integration of church and state.  See also the embedded video above, during a debate at a law school, where she displays not only an alarming lack of knowledge concerning the Constitution, but also any knowledge on one of her key issues, namely the separation of church and state on which rested the crux of her argument.

So basically, she comes to a debate expecting to pontificate to an uninformed student body, and instead proceeds to exacerbate her already spiraling political career by showing her blatant anti-intellectualism in front of a disproportionately-informed student body of legal specialists.  (Or, as our good friend Indy might say, she brought a knife to a gunfight...)

Does anyone else remember Fred Thompson, and how he more or less sleepwalked through his own campaign back in 2007?

Oh, yeah, me neither.

Another Fluff Piece

There are many people in the dating scene these days who are blessed with things like charisma, wit, charm, the ability to sweep the opposite sex off their feet, or failing that, they at least have some sort of hot body that would attract the ladies at first glance.

And then you have guys like me, who missed the memo that something might have been a bit off in our approach to finding the right girl...

So I introduce this buddy of mine to my ex.  Now, when I say I "introduce" them, I don't mean I "fix them up."  What I mean is that I felt it appropriate to introduce one circle of friends to another.  Like a social hour.  Except a little bit dysfunctional.  You see, when one circle of friends is running on 4 hours of sleep and 5 hours of caffeine, and the other circle is just running on no sleep, there are bound to be some problems.  I mean, this guy doesn't really need caffeine, but the presence of it in his system has surely not helped matters at this point.

There's a stand-up routine where some comedian (I forget this particular performer's name) jokes about introducing one group of friends to another.  "First of all, they think I'm extremely wealthy.  And don't be surprised if I talk in a British accent."  In my rendition, I spend half the night explaining just why my buddy is yelling these battle cries, and why these battle cries are directed toward some fireworks in the distance.  ("He really, really likes pyrotechnics...")

Some fireworks in the distance.  Huh.  It's almost like I planned that.

She laughs.  "Yeah, I bet."

Some fireworks in the distance.  Never been one for big romantic gestures, but usually, in the movies, this is where the guy does something.  Makes something happen.  A kiss, all too quick, but still a kiss.  Or maybe some wine glasses tucked behind that tree.  (Champagne, anyone?)

When you're in the moment, there's never time to think about that.  Never enough time.  All the time in the world, is useless in the here and now.

Plus, you know, she's an "ex".  Those two letters, the worst two letters in the English language.  Worst swear I've ever used.

How do you let go?  How do you single, well-adjusted people let go of someone like that?

Our first class together, too busy, to find out what we should know about each other.  Our first dinners together, a meal out with some friends.  Again, too busy.  We walk around campus, we talk about our homework, our families, our home lives, our jobs, our friends, our...their...dating lives.

Our first kiss.  Our...last kiss.  Our first and last kiss.

It's a path that can never really be tread again.  Steps you can never repeat, steps you can never take back.  A dance, a tango, a ritual of sorts.  They call it "courting," a dance, a system that wouldn't be out of place in antiquity, in the halls of courts, in that stranger, nobler time before chivalry died a slow death, before lov...

They say we have love for our family, our country, our god, our fellow human beings.  Our friends.  But they never say you can love a friend, as opposed to..."love."  Love.  Love love love love love. 

We toss that word around, like a used sweater.  It gets worn, gets torn, you can see the holes.  It becomes a frayed, tattered mess of an excuse for what it was.  Then it gets tossed aside, and we move down the aisle, looking for another one to fill the void left by the last one.

What if I don't want a new one?  How do you let go?  How exactly do you let go?  Does it get easier, the more times you go through those steps, that tango?

I've never wanted another partner.  Never needed another partner.

You ask, "What does this 'dance' of yours mean?  What makes you and your girlfriend...oh, I'm sorry...ex-girlfriend of yours, so damn special?"

There are many people who will never have an answer for that question.  There are those who never really knew the answer in the first place. 

But there are others who can't put it in words.  And I will say that you cannot put that dance in words.  You cannot put into words the first few steps in that thing called love any easier than you can explain those last few steps for someone who's never done it before, never been through that before, never taken that special someone in his hands and treated her like she is the most precious thing in the world.

I'm in the car, long gone by now.  My buddy is with me.  The "girl," the "ex," is nowhere to be found.

"She's nice," he says.  "But I can see why..."

So what did I do wrong?  Oh fountain of all knowledge?

"There's no spark," he says.  "But I can tell that you were good friends."

The first step begins with that much, and ends with so little...

"You're also really sarcastic, dude."

Big surprise.

1 Star

You know, every once in a while, someone asks me what exactly is the point of my blog title.  (Well, okay, so no one's really said anything, but that's beside the point...)

And then I come across a video like this:



I get the feeling that I would exhaust my various four-letter words far faster than I could come up with new ones.  (Ironically, these paragons of patriotism would probably give me one star for swearing anyway, so I guess that all works out.)

I'd like to note that, although the video title gives the impression that these individuals are undergoing "guerilla" training, this is not the case.  Upon viewing the video, it becomes clear that the subjects are the last people you would bother calling "guerillas."  However, the posters of the video, one "astroturfwars", creates a video title that gives a false first impression of the video's actual content.  This object, this false first impression, is accomplished using a cursory knowledge of the Internet (i.e. the video title function) to give users of this information (the random person surfing the Web) an impression and opinion which does not take the facts contained within the video into account.

You see what I just did there?

One could argue that my analogy is invalid, because the posters of the video are misrepresenting factual information contained within the video (that is, the fact that our American Liberty team consists of Internet "guerillas," rather than camouflaged, gun-toting guerillas who will physically attack you in the dead of the night), while the lesson taught by the esteemed instructor within the video suggests a misuse of ratings systems for books, movies, blogs, etc., which is simply a matter of misrepresenting opinion...

Except, he goes on to gleefully admit, "I get on Amazon, I type in 'Liberal Books.'  I go through and click '1 Star, 1 Star, 1 Star.'  The flipside is, you go to a 'conservative,' 'libertarian,' whatever, go to their products and give them 5 stars.  Okay?  So, literally 80% of the books I put one star on, I don't read.  So that's how it works."

So rather than giving his opinion based on a careful examination of the works he is rating, or even so much as a cursory glance of the, oh, words and thoughts put on paper for people to read, he rates these books based on whether or not he likes the title, or the blurb on the back, or the reviews from us members of the "liberal" media.  He is literally judging a book by its cover.

Say it with me, folks...

The Brewsky is not amused.