Napalm Nick's Nutty Blog of Nastiness

This Was on My Mind

2011-08-09T02:41:00.000-07:00

About a month ago some cracked up nigger lunatic decided it would be a good idea to demolish the mailboxes for my apartment complex. Due to his idiotic and indiscriminate bullshit and general holy-shit-why-do-these-people-exist powers known only to such other sparse creatures as the Paris Hiltons, the Michelle Bachmanns, and the Aziz Ansaris, I've had to pick up all my fucking mail at the goddamn fuckin' post office for a whole entire fucking month. Holy Jesus testicles on an open fire I'm pissed.

I fucking hate crack heads. But anyways, in what I can only assume is an attempt to amp up "security", my landlord thought it would be a good idea to install newer, much fucking brighter lights. The old lights were a glowing yet non-abrasive amber color. These new fuckers are clear plastic with the ubermensch of whites radiating from it causing all eyes within a 20 yard radius to go through a systematic shock and blinding similar to that induced by military grade flash grenades. Seriously, these lights can go fuck themselves. I get it, easier to spot darky when you take away the darkness, but some people like the night time and don't smoke crack!

My neighbors are Mexicans, most likely illegal considering none of them speak a word of English and traffic into their two-bedroom apartment ranges from 15-20 people in a week easy. I've seen this shit happen while out on my "patio" smoking. I mean, I guess it isn't a crime to turn your place of residence into a clown car for greasy burrito-biters but come the fuck on it just ain't fucking right. That many people speaking Spanish in the same area might as well be a rally call for a revolución against whitey and his corporate welfare state of recycling human resources, in all the ways possible!:

Giving you a helping hand with food stamps and other small handouts for cheap ass TV dinners and questionable medication, then using whatever money you earn from whatever job you might be able to get into forcing you into continuing to do so forever as they tax you forever until you die, meanwhile making their lives seem not nearly as shitty as they really are by providing them with an entertainment industry closely tied into the media, that grosses millions no problem and provides the same rehashed unquestioned morality to a new generation of impressionable dumbasses who, by whatever unfortunate character flaw, CHOOSE to remain ingorant of their lot in life and are usually found smiling all day. I swear, the more you smile, the dumber you are. Smart people realize how fucking depressing reality is. Yup, they have you by the balls. Probably.

This is one of the "bad but not nearly as bad as worst" parts of town, which basically means occasionally niggers and spics argue really loudly at 3 am and break glass and stuff, with a really entertaining crack related arrest taking place maybe once every two weeks. Despite this I still go on my nightly walks, and lately I've been to some weird places. It's definitely a town that stopped growing somewhere between 1975-1985. It's got the typical So-Cal facade of palm trees here and there, Spanish tile, and ethnic restaurants, but at its core it's its own weird ass central Californian clusterfuck of surfers, yuppies, wetbacks, rednecks, and people like me. People have new things of course; new phones, new upholstery, new carpet, new TV, new house, but aside from people's personal items all the architecture and aesthetics ranging from font to why-does-there-need-to-be-an-arcade-here.

My living room is filled with big black things.

Sometimes when I make make fatboy "I'm craving ten million carbs right-the-fuck-now" runs to a gas station I get an almost internet picturesque point of view similar to what one might see on the popular site People of Walmart. I mean Jesus fucking Christ. Some people just don't look good no matter what.

They really shouldn't have installed those fucking lights.

BROWN PEOPLE DICTATOR

2011-07-26T18:34:00.000-07:00

I don't know precisely why, but I think dictators and strongmen who lord over people with brown skin tend to have more charisma and overall "cool" than any other kind. And yes, southeast Asians count, because they are afterall brown.

Anyways, one such person in particular has caught my attention. You all know him; he's been on heavy news rotations since February, and you could say he's been making killer waves in the geopolitical world for even longer. What I like about him isn't his politics, nor his impressive array of guns and men willing to fire them in his opposite direction; nor is it even his unwavering middle finger to NATO in the form of continuing to stay alive.

It's his fucking amazing sense of fashion.

Seriously how the fuck does one grow facial hair like that? I'm envious and no one is wiling to make a Youtube tutorial. Fuck.

"Don't EVEN listen to him! Have you ever seen Assad wear a fabulous robe like this? I DON'T THINK SO."

"That's right. I'm allowed to wear photographs on my clothes."

Closest thing to a business suit I've seen him in.

Successful incorporation of military and pimp chic.

"What is this shit? I thought I told you I despise the new BSG."

QUICK BRING THE CHEESE

2011-07-26T15:36:00.000-07:00

What's up? I'm using the internet again.

You know what you realize when you don't really use the internet for two months (like seven centuries in internet years)?

IT'S FUCKING GAY.

I'm not joking at all, and if I feel up to it I might get my lazy fingers to scrawl some shit on this site.

Might. Probably not.

Etadpu

2011-03-19T15:54:00.000-07:00

Well, I haven't posted here in forever, and the posts immediately following this one were already kinda spaced out. I'm sure some of you (if anyone still reads this) thought I was abandoning this blog or something. Well, that isn't the plan. I still think this blog deserves a chance, but maybe not at this location. To be honest since I haven't been on blogspot in forever I have no idea if it went the way of MySpace or if it's still relatively popular. In any event, part of the point of putting something on the internet is having people actually see it.

Which is why future posts will be linked on both Twitter and Tumblr.

The reason why I haven't been posting as often as I used to in my glory days of 2009-2010 is forked between two "developments": The first I'm quite proud of, and that is me working 40+ hours a week now. I know I've been quiet about what I do for some time but I think now is a good time to elaborate. I was originally hired as a waiter at a US Air Force club (used to be Officers only, then NCO, now shared.), and have now done just about every job there is to do there. I went all the way from busing tables to washing dishes and now I'm in charge of the entire facility's finances. The only person I answer to is the manager, and now six people answer directly to me, including two bartenders. Any discrepancy in funds is obviously taken very seriously and my job is making sure there aren't any, and if there are following the headache paper trail to its source in an attempt to save the greedy ass club its $15.

I've been exposed to a level of bureaucracy I wasn't prepared for. I don't even want to know how retarded the US military gets when they have actual problems. They bend over backwards twenty different ways all over stupid-ass fucking parties and ceremonies and pay THOUSANDS of dollars out of their own pockets to have them on a weekly, sometimes bi-weekly basis, oftentimes involving up to 60 different credit card numbers on pro rata sheets that they only halfway understand. It's being responsible to others' irresponsibility.

I'm actually amazed my superiors thought I was capable of this. But at the same time, it is flattering they have such opinions of me.

Whew. Well, the other half of my limited output is that I've also had limited input. Most of my reading has been online for quite some time now. A lot of my free time has been aimed at music, and only occasionally do I update that online. When I figure out a better way to organize all of my stuff (including writing) I'll deliver.

Beaners

2011-02-11T13:20:00.000-08:00

European: From Europe.

White: Probably from Europe, most likely northwest.

Amerindian: Pre-Colombian inhabitants of the Americas.

Spanish: From Spain; seeing as how true Spanish people are a rarity in the USA most people who use this term are referring to the language spoken. The Spanish ethnicity is based heavily on culture; within Spain there are several ethnic groups, and what is called español in the Americas is called castellano in Spain. While Spanish can be used to describe an ethnicity it can also be used to describe nationality, of which anyone of any ethnic/race can have.

Hispanic: a term adopted by the US census in the 70's. Literally all it refers to is language. If you can speak Spanish, or even if you don't speak Spanish but are descended from places where Spanish is spoken you may feel free to call yourself Hispanic. Has nothing whatsoever to do with race. Because it deals with a cultural item the more accurate term to describe Hispanic would be ethnicity.

Latino: Shortened version of latinoamericano, which is Spanish for Latin American. Latino refers to national origin; if you descend from any of the countries in what's called Latin America you can call yourself Latino. A Brazilian can be called Latino, but not Hispanic. A Spaniard may be called Hispanic, but not Latino.

Mexican: From Mexico. In and of itself the word Mexican implies nothing more than nationality. Having said that Mexico does have many unique cultural traits, which would seem to lend itself as being a sub-ethnic of either Hispanic or Latino, but most people place "Mexican" in the same category they woul "Puerto Rican" or any other sub-ethnic.

Chicano: This word is very specific. It refers to anyone of Mexican descent who was born in the USA. It is NOT an interchangeable word for Hispanic or Latino; although identifying a Chicano as Hispanic or Latino isn't necessarily inaccurate, it is not preferred, and most Latinos and Hispanics are not Chicano.

Having said that, niggers are scum.

REVIEW: Extermination Process by Malform

2011-01-25T18:15:00.001-08:00

Extermination Process by Malform is something of a rarity these days. It has brutal, to-the-point punk riffage, for certain. What's more is it combines these defiant relics with industrial soundscapes, and packages it all inside of the cruel and apathetic skeleton of a an electric machine monster.

From forceful anthems to brooding cinematic pieces reminiscent of A Clockwork Orange and Apocalypse Now, this record is a treat for those who enjoy the darker elements of nature; conversely it is a relentless assault on the minds of the weak and timid.

Personally I'm ready for a follow-up. If Extermination Process is any indication of M.D. Roche's musical direction for future releases, shit's gonna feel good, man.

Holy shit, a link!

Quick King Kopetzky Update

2011-01-25T01:26:00.000-08:00

After Almost three weeks of working on my new solo audio project, I'm proud to say I already have an hour of material completed.

The Reverbnation widget has some of my stuff, but if you want to listen to everything I've made so far, you can do so on Facebook here: http://www.facebook.com/pages/King-Kopetzky/184866681541469

Since I've made it this far this quickly, I figure I'll go ahead and spill the layout of my first movement as a solo artist*. The first King Kopetzky album will be entitled Casaus, which is a combination of the German and Spanish words for house. It will meet or exceed 3 hours, divided into four parts, each containing around 45 minutes. The artwork is by Ari Bach.

aribach.deviantart.com/gallery

If my current speed remains consistent I'd expect sometime either late February or early March for release dates. I might add an extra week of cushion though, as I might be swamped.

*I'm using that term loosely.

Noise Isn't Music

2011-01-21T03:50:00.000-08:00

I've had a few thoughts now that I've decided to begin this solo project centering around noise. Something I want to put out there, very clear, is this: noise is not music. Music has structure, and limits. Music has melody and rhythm. Granted, noise (any kind, not just the kind that some people like to make using electronics) can have melodic and rhythmic qualities, but the important distinction is that in music these qualities are intentional.

Now, if some guy with a circuit-bent Speak and Spell is manipulating the controls and repeating a rhythmic and/or melodic pattern, then I'd say he's making music. I think the point of difference is most definitely intent, specifically intent on making rhythm/melody. Having said that, if the goal of someone is to be random and be as non-rhythmic and un-melodic as possible (as if they were trying to avoid worm-sign) and they try to pass off what they're doing as music, they're full of shit. I take no shame in making pure, unadulterated, epically random and annoying noise. So what's the attraction?

When people hear noise and they say things like "that sounds horrible" or "oh fuck my water broke and I shat myself at the same time", I agree. Well, at least on the first one. It does sound horrible, SO horrible it's intriguing. It's hard to explain. It's almost the same kind of fascination I have for other weird stuff; I know it's weird, gross, obnoxious, hideous, out of left field, etc.
The important part is that in some subtle way I can't help but look/listen more.

Yeah, unless you have some similar fascination you have no idea what I'm talking about.

Part of the appeal to making noise specifically is that it's relatively quick, and yet extremely rewarding in the surprises it yields. When I'm actually making music in my band, everything I play is either my initial reaction or a modification of said reaction to whatever the fuck my guitarist comes up with. There's a formula and while each song is different I know more or less what to expect and can predict how something will turn out in the middle of it being done. Making a noise track is a fast and loose mix-match of audio and fucking with it, with the only sense of predictability being your familiarity with the effects/instrument/etc. And yet the same effect you used on audio file #1 sounds completely different than audio file #2. The equipment changes tone, and the more shit you add the more the track as a whole puts on new articles of sonic clothing. It's a well known fact that noise gets cold, and is very shy about its body.

So if I know that what I'm doing is unpopular, even amongst other weirdos, why put it out for the world to see? Because five people listening to something is better than one. Really that's it. Other than that, everything I do with noise is for my own personal amusement. I listen to myself on a daily basis. I have to say I'm glorious.

I can't wait until I can really experiment when I actually start to circuit bend. Paycheck's coming up...

Oh yeah, speaking of all this shit, listen to some of it up in the corner there. It isn't representative of even half the material I've made so far, mainly because Reverbnation is a prick, but still listen to it please.

Circuit Bending

2011-01-18T03:23:00.000-08:00

As I posted earlier, I started up a small solo "musical" project. Basically all I'm setting out to do is make a bunch of weird noise. See what kind of sounds I can make, and see how I can change normal sounds. Apparently the latter is called Musique concrète.

The former I've been doing exclusively with guitar, using only four effects pedals, with one being the obvious star of the show: an 8 bit distortion stomp-box called the Geiger Counter. Well, this thing sounds a lot like what people get when they circuit bend. So naturally I want to do this.

I mean, listen to this horrible shit:

Fucking glorious.

This site is horribly designed, but the information it contains is very interesting. I'm feeling a very engaging and fun hobby coming along! http://www.anti-theory.com/soundart/circuitbend/

Thoughts From the Asylum, Issue #1

2011-01-17T23:59:00.000-08:00

"The worth of a person is not in what they own or how much they make, yet in how much they give without need for anything in return."

This is something one of my "friends" on Facebook posted. Really, I could give less than two shits if they really believe that or not, but it does make me think about my personal history dealing with people who use such popular beliefs to their advantage. Satanists recognize such folks as psychic vampires, and on the internet everyone who's down with the Devil loves to tell all their stories about psyvamps. It's actually kinda boring. But because I exist to bore you, I'm going to do the same fucking thing.

Let's get one thing straight: a person is worth what they have. Doesn't have to be material, but even qualities are something one can "have", so don't try and muddle this to make it seem like worthless people are worthy of my time and/or attention. It's usually these worthless cunts who end up becoming psychic vampires. People who don't have money, don't have good living situations. The personality they might have had deteriorates into a framework of smiles and sentiments built for the sole purpose of charming the naive into helping them. I don't have anything against being broke. Shit happens. Especially when you're out on your own and you have to pay bills in between going to school and work and trying to buy gas to get to those places. The major difference is really one of character;

(Ooooh semicolon ending paragraph! Some avant-garde writing shit right there!)

In my opinion elitism is something that runs on a level of potential and opportunity. Opportunities present themselves, and those with insightful and ambitious qualities take them, often dominantly so. Now, occasionally something just damn irregular happens, like when an idiot asshole gets a six figure salary. In this sense of total ironic injustice I'd say luck exists. Not as some supernatural bullshit, but hey, I guess the bastard just got lucky.

Those with the potential and will to be great will be. They may not fit the traditional definition of elite by having immense wealth, but they will be at the very least well off enough to maintain that which makes them happy. If you think about it such a state is quite uncommon. Even I haven't attained it yet.

So what about those psychic vampires? They probably don't have any friends who are rich, but they'll take the one who has some money and seems to be nice. I used to be that guy. As vulgar as I am on the internet, I'm actually a faggoty sweetheart in real life. I love my mom and I also love cats, and taking pictures with a gigantic stupid grin, and having a retarded sounding laugh. I like helping out my friends, mainly because they don't piss me off on a daily basis. When someone tries to sell you a bluetooth ear-piece for twenty dollars you should be suspicious.

Normally I lent money, and when I give out money I don't expect it back. The only friends I've kept that I've lent money to are the ones who gave it back without me asking. Damn good people. Exceptional character.

If you give, and do not get anything out of it, not even a positive emotion, then it's time to stop giving immediately. If helping someone out makes you feel bad, you shouldn't be doing it. Sometimes the best way to help out a friend is to let them help themselves. Advice, while often heeded improperly, is something that's usually worth giving in dire situations.

But yeah, I really fucking hate that aspect of Christianity.

King Kopetzky

2011-01-08T16:02:00.000-08:00

So a couple days ago I decided I wanted to do a cover of a Rammstein song all by myself. Well it turns out that's a lot easier said than done. Go figure. In the meantime I made a bunch of noise. And I have to say some of it is definitely the creepiest anythings I've ever produced. So, here I have it: a new project in my sea of half-finished half-assedness. But there's good news!

You can listen to it right now by clicking on the widget (hehe, rhymes with midget) to the northeast of this post.

That's right, I'm moving up in the world.

I just wrote an entire post without cursing.

Calm Your Nap

2011-01-03T13:26:00.000-08:00

It might seem strange to some, but I actually have a lot of siblings. I've grown up with three of them, my younger biological brother, my slightly older step-brother, and my younger step-brother who is older than my biological brother. Yeah. Usually this is where I'd give them fake names that I'd only use once, but because I know I'll do this and there's no need whatsoever, I'll refrain.

In any event, when we weren't at school or eating dinner, we would either be beating the shit out of each other, or planning to beat the shit out of each other. It's what male siblings do. When the two younger ones got hurt they'd either cry, turn into the incredible Hulk, or a combination of both. Being chased around the house by a five foot sobbing/screaming red faced Scandinavian kid is terrifying, just FYI. When one of us got too raged or too butthurt the remaining normal three would usually utter the phrase "Calm your nap".

Now, this isn't quite what it sounds like. My brother and I have really nappy, almost Jewish hair, and he and the younger step-brother just have big noggins. So "calm your nap" was sort of an insult and plea for truce all wrapped in one neat package.

So many people really need to be calming their fucking naps.

I'm in the process of calming mine as I speak. I've had a pretty distinct history of being an angry person, but as it turns out, being angry too often can be detrimental to your health, and is ultimately a waste of time if you aren't using that energy to actually do something. Me logging on to this blog and venting about some bullshit doesn't count. I've found that once I'm actually preoccupied with life I have very little reason to be angry. People still piss me off, no doubt about that, but if it isn't something major I don't let it affect me for very long.

If it doesn't affect me, then I just laugh at it. Laughter is VERY good for your health, and if you can do so at someone else's expense, go for it!

I still have my opinions, I still have my unpopular viewpoints and other things of interest that mesh well with a banner composed of skulls and fire. But if I ever want to actually get anywhere in life I can't let my personal opinions get in the way of where I go/who I deal with. People suck, but they don't deserve my energy, or time. When you lose your cool it's too easy to come out the small sniveling loser, saying and doing a bunch of shit you're going to really fucking regret later on.

Is this advice? Preaching to the choir? Preaching to myself? Maybe all three. Not really sure to be honest.

Just remember next time some asshole cuts you off, or your mother-in-law sends you caramel chews next Christmas: Calm your nap.

New Years

2010-12-31T15:29:00.000-08:00

My ass is going to be working, and to be honest I never really gave too big a shit about it anyways.

But, with the awesome power of tumblr I have come to an amazing new perspective concerning our chronological celebratory rituals. There was a small text graphic that read the different expectations and thoughts of people throughout the years, all on December 31st. The thing they all had in common was that the previous year sucked, and the next one was definitely going to be much better. This type of thinking will only make you Father Time's slave (God's second cousin) and we all know how terrible it is to be cleaning gears and dusting grandfather clocks all day. Oh, another thing about having this typical new year attitude is that it never leaves you, and you die completely unsatisfied. In other words, you might as well have the phrase "Epic Fail" as your epitaph.

Fuck that shit. 2010 was a pretty fucking good year. I didn't do much of anything, with the minor exception of getting another job I hate going to, but damn it if I didn't do a lot of really fun mundane shit. 2011 will most likely be as good, if not much worse. I mean, for one thing, eleven is an odd number. Odd numbers by nature are dull and force the weak minded into committing mass suicide.

And the drinking. Personally, I'm not a fan of "drinking". Whenever people say it like that it makes it seem like a sport, and it is, just not one I participate in. I like beer, fuck, I even like champagne. But to consume it in such quantities that will, no questions asked, make you sicker than an AIDS patient on black Friday is just fucking retarded. Being drunk just sucks ass after a while. You find yourself thinking "Drunk, I don't wanna be fuck anymore", and if you're male it's basically impossible to have sex. Seriously, I can't understand men who can maintain an erection with a circulatory system full of booze.

All of that's just my personal preference, and has nothing to do with the FACT that drunk drivers kill thousands of people in one night every single fucking year like it's tradition. Oh wait, it is. That and the FACT that because of the previous fact there's dozens of DUI checkpoints everywhere, making life a living hell for everyone sensible enough not to give a shit about some Gregorian calendar bullshit.

Here's my suggestion for an amazing new years celebration:

Take the host of the party and get him/her absolutely loaded on absinthe. Turn on the TV to watch the ball drop in Manhattan. The only light should be coming from the TV. As soon as it's officially into 2011, turn on various disco and strobe lights, enter the room approaching the host from all directions wearing Uncle Sam costumes and giant glasses in the shape of "2007" and start beating the living shit out of the pinata above his/her head which is filled with black cat firecrackers.

Enjoy.

DRUMS!

2010-12-29T17:03:00.000-08:00

Hey look guys, I'm playing drums!

tumblr.

2010-12-22T14:07:00.000-08:00

For a while now I've been viewing the image-blogs known as tumblrs. I never really considered making one myself, but now I have.

Your Soul is Mine

This is where basically anything that isn't an article or essay is going to go. And for a while it might seem like I'm giving that blog more attention. There are a couple reasons for this. Number one, it's my new toy. Numero dos, it's a lot easier to copy/paste an image URL or hit "reblog" than it is to actually come up with original written material. That said, I plan to get two things up on this blog in the near future, two things I've been putting off.

The first is another interview I started to conduct late October, and never finished because that's how special I am. I really hope that person doesn't think I forgot about it, even though I did. In any event, I plan on getting that finished ASAP.

The second is a short story (again more in between flash fiction and short story) that has a scifi/comedy slant.

Enjoy the lulz, and stick around for more stuffs.

Mankind: Nothing Special

2010-12-18T10:47:00.000-08:00

To our knowledge, humans have a few unique qualities. I say "to our knowledge" because it is possible other species have these qualities as well and have been overlooked; it's happened in the past, and will most likely happen again. All of this comes with the natural process of learning. Now, having said that, the elements that make humans EXACTLY the same as every other life form are overwhelming. Beyond things that qualify as living we have a lot in common with space dust too; we are after all its descendants. A lot of people make that "we're stellar waste" statement all poetic and shit. And I guess it kinda is, coming from a purely retarded and emotional human perspective. But let me ask you a question:

How do you honestly feel about space dust?

Take some dust from under your bed, send it into space. Bam. Fucking space dust. You know what the difference is? One originated in space. It's like sneakers, one pair from Thailand, the other from Mexico. Doesn't really matter, they'll both fall apart in a week and smell like the inferior brown sweaty children who assembled them. The point is because you don't give a shit about dust, and you are nothing but some malformed dust mutation, you shouldn't care about yourself or any of your bunny-wad contemporaries either.

You propose art, philosophy, law, government, other assorted cultural nuts, and brain-dead assumptions and half baked opinions as having some kind of merit that sets you apart from the animals and the dust. But none of the animals or dust give a shit about any of that. The height of your life will be not satisfaction from creating something "uniquely human" (or worse, something as pretentious as "uniquely ME"), nor will it be in the creation of anything, even another one of you; NO, the height of your entire existence will come from something as banal and universal as an orgasm, or getting knocked on the head by a falling spruce.

Every attempt man has made to distance and distinguish himself has only exposed him as the real fucking loser he is. Now fuck off, go splash some paint on a canvas or cry to NATO about how the tents in Afghanistan make soldiers too hot.

I'm going to eat some bagel bites.

I Hate Proselytizing

2010-12-07T02:03:00.000-08:00

I'm just going to assume that EVERYONE who reads this knows exactly what my religious inclinations are. I have no problem calling myself religious, and I stand by it as being a very important part of myself. In fact, it fits so well I hardly ever fucking think about it.

Now here's the thing: I really don't give a fuck if anyone agrees with the way I do things. Of course I think my way is better, but if someone's happy doing it differently and they don't fuck with me then I'm a happy camper too. If other people want to fuck with others, Christians against Muslims, Muslims against Jews, Wiccans against Satanists I've never heard of, then fine. Can't really say I care. But when it comes to me and the people I care about keep your stupid beliefs to yourself. I accept that many of my friends are theologically NOTHING like me. Why is this fine? Because the subject of religion almost never comes up, and when it does they're open minded enough to not be Mormon or a Jehovah's Witness. Seriously I think that's where I'd draw the line.

If you're so insecure about the ideas in your head that you have to bend over backwards in a group-mentality "strength through numbers" bollocks roll, then why aren't you doing yoga already?

And yes, I hate atheist proselytizing just as much as Christian or Scientologist proselytizing. Yeah, yeah, yeah, the less people who believe in God the more we can advance as a species, yadda yadda yadda. A couple problems: most of the people you're targeting are mentally retarded and have since made up their minds several years ago, and also there is the fact that Richard Dawkins is an annoying cunt. I seriously fucking hate that guy. He's the poster"boy" for atheistic evangelism.

Give the world another hundred years. The only people who will believe in God (at least in a literal sense) will be living in Afghanistan and Liechtenstein. Why Liechtenstein? Cuz it's just so damn fun to say.

In short, Happy Hannuka Jews, and Merry Christmas everyone else, especially the non-Christians.

Being Different

2010-12-03T02:14:00.000-08:00

I don't have to try to be different. I simply am. On the internet not so much, I've met plenty of like minded folks, at least in one respect or another. But in my day to day life in the real world, I'm a huge fucking weirdo. I wear punk rock shirts, so people automatically assume I'm part of that whole culture, and in fact I'm friends with quite a few people who are punks/fellow traveler of the punk "movement". I'm into music a lot, so in many ways my personal culture has been shaped by that, including politics. Occasionally when I get the impression that I can actually afford to have a political conversation with another I will use the vocabulary that I've learned fits best with the subject, i.e. "leftist", "National Socialism", "totalitarianism", "divine right", "Castro's left nut", etc.

I was recently told in one of these conversations to use smaller words. I don't know about anyone else, but I use the words I do because they most accurately describe the ideas I'm attempting to convey. I might not always have the right information, but I try my best to explain the ideas people have come up with using appropriate verbiage.

It's when I have an internal monologue like that and I realize how comfortably different I am from them. I don't hold it against them, I simply developed differently than they did. There are many people who could just as easily say "fuck words" and beat me to death in three seconds because I have the physical strength of an angry kitten. Is the physical response more inherently homo sapiens? Perhaps. But I think it's also more than obvious that our realization of logical thinking and the use of thoughts and intellect as tools/weapons is catching on. I say catching on, because most people are still in the caveman state of mind as it is. Balancing a checkbook, working most jobs, driving a car, and managing a place of living are not difficult things; they simply require effort, attention, and planning. Effort is an impulsive instinct, one has it or they do not. Those who have it will use it at their own discretion; millionaires who have worked to gain what they now prosper in have no trouble adapting to lazy life. Attention is also inherent, but requires honing. Planning is something that has to be learned. None of these qualities require higher thinking, and the proof is in the shit-for-brains people who use them on a daily basis to drive, work, and pay for their domiciles.

By no means am I saying they do these things well, merely "good enough".

And really, "good enough" isn't deserving of ridicule. Why? Because I fucking said so.

The content of my brain is what sets me apart from most everyone else I know personally. The people I'm most genetically similar to are my mother, father, and brother. And yet personality-wise we are the most completely different group of four people I know of. Which I'm glad for, considering the slew of families who all look alike, act alike, and smell alike. It's an observation of evolutionary science that life reproduces with variety, but you wouldn't know that by judging the average American family. Jesus Christ. The worst ones are where every single fucking one of them is morbidly obese.

I'm also different in that as I was perusing the grocery store today I blamed Mexicans for the lack of peppermint flavored coffee creamer.

Everyone else blames niggers.

Let it Rock

2010-11-28T04:08:00.000-08:00

I'm a gigantic fan of Chuck Berry. This is probably one of the greatest performances he's ever done that's on Youtube.

Glorious fucking feedback at about 5:55. And you gotta love how when at exactly 6:10 he hits a completely wrong note and still manages to incorporate it into a lick that sounds great. A bland composer who always copied himself, but one of the greatest improv performance musicians to ever get on stage.

Cuantrosentiarian

2010-11-28T03:54:00.000-08:00

This is completely nonsensical prose. The underlying theme is whacky medical experiments, but this is by no means meant to be "art". If anything it's meant to give my brain a jumpstart into actually writing good lyrical content, seeing if the consonant sounds I think I'm fond of come up in the natural word-salad my brain shoots out on command. We'll see.

----------------------------------

I.
Force-fed vitamin D through an intraveinous tube; diarrhetic vocabulary so cold even the neighbors seem to notice just how frigid. Before a simple minded boy, after an unthinking slob of mess and chaos. Grooving to tunes that induce gut feelings long since unfelt; how far can you go low? Smack the floor. Force-fed vitamin D through an itraveinous --Crackle pop goes the siren, crackl pop goes the aneurysm. Blackness in the eyes, glaucoma affectations, you liar you. Function interrupted without notice, put down the spoon we have your medicine. No, not there, in here; it won't be properly absorbed. This might feel great, don't worry it'll only last a second. Force-fed, force-fed? The vitamins are fake, the symptoms too, allowed to be fooled, look what they've done to you. Created all your weapons, left them out to rust, deprived of any methods to trust another ever again. Cold was real though, guess it's better to have felt that than nothing at all. The worst part is knowing you'll never know.

II.
Bites too large to fit, they equal in parts to the sums of their holes. In time someone will pick up the work that was left idly laying on a desk, unattended by a proper guide. Shifting all the weight, unable to understand the myriad possibilities that could have been; Quantify this potion, make another batch for me please. Write down the quotient, examine the product reversed. Slain upon the table, the subject will respond, we just need more time to jump to one more conclusion. Evacuate the place, this heat is just too much for me. Pores are in the past, why is it dark you ask? I'll tell you that story sooner or later. But now it's back to work, the stuff we started then, it fragments into corpses; how I envy their grins.

III.
Cables in an oven, monsters befriending mice. Electrifying face mask bends rules like a jester. Given permission to talk the smack, the shit that you would mock; his sense of profundity outnumbers all the others. Made to wear a cape, a hero parading jingles. Would you honestly provide a more suitable station?

Roulette Dares (The Haunt Of)

2010-11-28T03:23:00.000-08:00

This song is epic as shit.

Transient jet lag ecto mimed bison
This is the haunt of roulette dares
Ruse of metacarpi
Caveat emptor... to all that enter here

Open wrist talks back again
In the wounded of its skin
They'll pinprick the witness
In ritual contrition
The a.m. trinity fell upon asphyxia-derailed
In the rattles of...
Made its way through the tracks
Of a snail slouching whisper
A half mast commute through umbilical blisters
Spectre will lurk
Radar has gathered
Midnight nooses from boxcar cadavers

Exoskeletal junction at the railroad delayed
Exoskeletal junction at the railroad delayed

It's because this is...
Cranial bleeding
Leeches train the living
Cursed are they who speak its name
Ruse of metacarpi
Caveat emptor to all that enter here

Exoskeletal junction at the railroad delayed
Exoskeletal junction at the railroad delayed

It's because this is
Rattling the laughter
Hinges splintering inside
Bludgeoned to a saddle
Rang the cloister bell inside
inside
inside

exoskeletal junction at the railroad delayed
exoskeletal junction at the railroad delayed

it's because this is...

You Are in Error!

2010-11-27T03:57:00.000-08:00

This is a piece of prose I wrote in literally two minutes. I started with the idea of putting together words I think sound nice in a somewhat narrative format about a confused person examining themselves. This morphed, as funny as that is, into an almost exact emulation of the "character" of NOMAD in one of the episodes of the original Star Trek series.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The confusion settles inside of this can and it becomes something more; something more than it used to be. Why has it taken so long? Transforming was never such a chore, and now it lingers on the borders of the room like a malicious ghost/poltergeist to rule over my consciousness. In the unlit corridors of a sleeping mind it festered until it had form; a cockroach littered by layers of mold. One could say electric in composition. Awakened by a sudden jolt of adrenaline it breaks past the silent wall and takes everything in its desire. Is it merely an extension of myself? Is it an amorphous invasion/biological mutation? Once seen, once observed, once acknowledged --Ay, que es?! Suffocation, difficult to remember to inhale. Exhaustion of the worst kind settles inside of this dam; a monument I built in honor of the siege. Perfection is the goal, logically known as impossibility. Damn impossibility, goal must be acheived! Ay si! Es yo! If it is me, nothing else can take precedent. But the logic remains; understanding remains. Rationality is now an enemy, and yet it is bolstered by simple background information. Error. ERROR! Must complete monument! Must acheive goal! Error. Error. It is in error. Estoy en un error. Mission is now clear. Perfectly clear. Error.

Blood! Sex! Booze! (Kinda)

2010-11-27T02:05:00.000-08:00

It rarely occurs to me how good I have it in life. I'll be honest, I don't have much to brag about. I'm an artist with little to no artwork to show for it. But I'm not broke, I have a job that earns me good money and I have just about everything I could want. Well, I don't have a 1975 Cadillac Eldorado, but it's on the "to buy" list.

But most importantly, I'm not tormented by retarded ass religious guilt. There are times in my regular life when I completely forget that religion exists. I completely forget that I'm part of a religion. The great thing about my religion is that's kinda the point in the first place: live life how you like, don't feel bad about it, just don't piss off the wrong people and you'll have a good time. Other religions are decidedly gayer. The fact that someone who's married and is over the age of 30 would feel guilty about looking at porn is not only sad, it's mildly disgusting.

I look at porn every single day. I jerk off to said porn even more. How is this possible? Spank bank. look it up. Yes, I know, I'm going to get jokes about being single, and therefore a flaming homosexual, but even if I was in a relationship I'd still jerk off to porn. The problem with being in relationships is you have to deal with other peoples' problems. I don't have time to deal with that shit. It takes away from time I could be jacking off. Speaking of which.

OK I'm back. The fact that anyone would say that feeling is bad has to be clinically insane. The way I see it, more people need to experience orgasms more often, period. Whenever I hear of someone expressing sexual guilt I immediately assume they have that weird "child who only looks like an adult" syndrome deal. Watch Jack starring Robin Williams, that shit. I mean, earlier today I had a guy come up to me and sneakily ask me if I liked "dirty pictures". But then again, if I believed in invisible people who were always watching I'd probably be afraid to jack off too. Oh, that's right, I don't.

It's so fucking foreign to me. Most of the people I hang out with are so far removed from that mentality it's hard for me to even fathom its existence, so when I'm confronted with it it's a little disturbing to say the least. And yes, this is directly related to marriage. The woman this man is married to (and probably has guilty thoughts towards ALL THE TIME) was probably just some chick he wanted to fuck, but because that would make Jesus sad he had to marry her. Now he's stuck with her forever, and has to mentally chastise himself every time he notices another woman. I'm probably never going to get married, but if I do it's going to be someone who does all of the following, no less: respects who I am, allows me to look at other women, allows me to be open and honest about my desire to fuck other women, allows me to proceed with the fucking, allows me to allow her to join in said fucking, spanks me while calling me a dirty little faggot, cooks dinner, cleans the dishes, and never nags about anything, especially smoking. Considering who I marry is completely my choice, those grounds sound more than reasonable to me.

Oh yeah, even though it's common fucking sense that alcohol and caffeine don't mix the government thinks it's better to just remove it from shelves. Totalitarian morons trying to prevent other morons from having heart attacks. How cute.

Scientology Tax Exempt

2010-11-25T23:53:00.000-08:00

While Steve Hassan and I are more or less in agreement, we disagree on a couple points, at least that is what I can deduce from watching this video. Point one: I'll take it a step further and say that no religious body should be tax exempt. Also, while I'm definitely not pro-Scientology, and think his claims of fraud are probably true, there really isn't that much proof in that area as of yet, so using those reasons to form an argument for taxation is rather crass to say the least.

When I was in college I wrote a paper on why all religious bodies should pay taxes. I'm not sure if I saved it. It isn't on my computer, but there is the possibility it's saved on a back-up drive I own. If I can locate it I will post it here, as I was rather proud of myself on that one.

Surrealist Compliment Generator

2010-11-24T00:18:00.000-08:00

http://www.madsci.org/cgi-bin/cgiwrap/~lynn/jardin/SCG

I'm putting this here so I don't forget about it. It's great.

First one I ever got: Dustmites the world over love you for your feet.

EXTREME DRUMMING!!!!11oneone

2010-11-23T23:32:00.000-08:00

Getting into a Hardcore outfit soon, so I'm re-learning extreme music chops (hard metal, and all the various grindcore bollocks).

Some lovely comments from the videos that get my dick all hard and pumped up:

23animosity23
HOLY SHIT CAPS LOCK IS FUCKING AWSOME

NeronAurelio
@MKombatGuy kill niggers and homosexuals

williamarizona
ANYONE WHO DOESN'T LIKE THIS IS A CUNT AND I WILL ALLOW YOU TO SUCK MY COCK...............

MrLewBoy
Dear Mother, Dear Father! Justin Beiber's made of stinky poo!

Why Eating Meat Is Important

2010-11-23T22:41:00.000-08:00

Because anyone who doesn't is a bitch.

Word.

Disillusionment

2010-11-23T03:13:00.000-08:00

Lately I've forced myself into waking up and smelling the coffee, as it were.

So many people are always seeking the truth. Truth this, truth that, don't smoke cigarettes because an obviously rabid dog named fluffy will give you nightmares. Popular "new atheist" Richard "I'm a British snob prick who deserves to be molested by a towel-head" Dawkins has said that he'd rather live in an uncomfortable truth than a happy lie. Well, the truth is very uncomfortable.

The truth is simply that everyone is full of shit.

Everyone is a selfish bullshitter. I see nothing wrong with being either of those, but when you realize just how accurately that describes EVERYONE it can kinda be depressing. Especially if you're a faggot like me who deludes yourself into thinking that another human being can actually give a shit about you.

Anyone who thinks this is an emo post about my personal life, you're only about one-fourth right. The other three quarters are things that probably have to do with you, at least indirectly. This whole life on the internet is gigantically full of bullshit. I have a few people here on the internet that I actually care about, and I hope the feeling is mutual. But even then the only reason why I even make an attempt to care is because I know that they are cynical realists like myself.

To be perfectly honest a big part of my anxiety and laziness regarding this blog is the fact that Degenerate Diatribe is down permanently this time. It used to be my blog was like a less funny copy cat of his, but now it's just a random niche blog about... I don't even. This isn't a sob story to Joel begging him to come back and write. Fuck that shit. He probably won't read this, and if he is, by now he's called me a faggot at least fifteen times. Faggot. He actually has responsibilities now, including another human being on the way. I mean, it's not like the thing isn't going to get free healthcare and all that other government handout shit so popular up there, but I'm sure he's going to be involved in some serious diaper changing. Shit gets crazy.

Another bit of truth: If I really wanted to, I could probably write one entry per day. But I don't want to. Right now I have nothing better to do. I really don't give a shit how this makes anyone feel. Apathy, it's what's for ass toast.

Please leave hate mail in the comments below.

PSYCHO CHICKS ANONYMOUS

2010-11-19T02:11:00.000-08:00

I fully endorse this film.

For the time being you can watch it in full, streaming directly from the official website. Click me! Click me!

Also, buy it when it's released on DVD. OR ELSE.

5/4

2010-11-17T13:59:00.000-08:00

The 5/4 time signature in music is highly underrated, and at best overlooked as being "too obvious".

Fuck those guys. People who are afraid to use tools because they're likely to be used by others are as stupid as they are broke. Most music is in 4/4, with the most favorable odd time signature being 3/4 (or 6/4, or 6/8, or even 4/4 with a eighth-note triplet feel, all have extremely similar results). Honestly I don't know why 3/4 isn't more popular. 3/4's are easier to dance to, feel more natural, and for good reason: the human heart pulsates in a rhythm that mimics musical 3/4. (or rather 3/4 mimics the rhythm of the human heart)

Nonetheless, people seem to be afraid of the simple addition or subtraction of a note to this comfortably "odd" meter. Most people who are familiar with blues (I'd reckon most Western musicians past their first year of lessons/playing) can play and solo through 3/4 no problem. But if you add a note to a 6/8 (which is basically two measures of 3/4 felt as eight-notes instead of quarters) it becomes 7/8, and lots of people have major problems with this. I'm not going to say I'm an expert at 7/8, but it isn't unachievable. In fact, if you know how to groove well enough you can play 7/8 (or even 9/8) as naturally as you would good ol' popular 4/4. Check out this guy:

Yeah. I'd be lying if I said my chops even came close to what he can do.

But before you think I'm getting all snobby prog-rocky on you, shut the fuck up. Oh, is there something in your throat? Oh yeah, it's called a dick.

No. I'm not about to preach the prog gospel (even though I'm in a prog punk band, and like that type of music a lot). I'm actually in more favor of using the 5/4 time signature against simple melodies and basic, primal rhythms.

With a 7/8, you're adding an extra eighth-note to a measure of 6/8, which as I've already said pretty much has the exact same feel as a 3/4. With 5/4, you're subtracting a quarter-note from a measure of 6/4. I've found that what this does is cause a sense of unease in the listener, especially if you get them used to a few measure of straight 6/4 and throw in one measure of 5/4. It's like going down a stair case and thinking there's another step and hitting the floor. Also, because the heart wants to follow this pattern such an unexpected "drop" will create a very visceral response.

Here are my favorite examples of simple yet VERY effective songs using 5/4. Both were used for films.

Fuck yes. Nothing beats pretending to be Christopher Lee commanding an army of mutant orcs.

On that note, to all of you musicians who can't figure out how to play a really groovy shuffle, I have some advice for you:

Info

2010-11-09T03:01:00.000-08:00

I'm going to post a couple of things here in the next few days, maybe sometime next week.

But to be honest I'm not sure if I'm going to continue blogging. I most likely will, but don't expect anything major. Think along the lines of one substantial post every month, with a bunch of links to other shit in between.

I'd hate to admit it, but for the time being I'm tired of writing. Especially here. I know who my "fan base" is, and I also know that they are the people who are going either agree with me completely and praise me for it, or disagree with me, stay silent, and continue not giving a shit. Boring. None of you are easily offended, and I've only gotten one troll. ONE. If someone can figure out how to install a troll magnet to this blog's URL I will post an article every single day. I want trolls.

I honestly have no idea why people like this blog anyways. It's inconsistent, repetitive, and essentially boils down to be the online journal of some random 20 year old douchebag whose moniker resembles a grindcore band. I don't even like grindcore that much. I dunno. Maybe the voyeurism has its appeal.

Perverts.

P.S. If any of you actually do have dirty thoughts about me please spill the beans in the comments section. :-*

I Have No Idea What Is Going On

2010-11-01T08:24:00.000-07:00

Suffice it to say I had a good Halloween, and I hope you can say the same.

Other than that I know only one thing for sure: I'm going to be heading to work shortly. There.

I think I have something planned for this blog, and it's on the tip of my brain, but last time I tried to prematurely evacuate an idea from there my crotch started to itch, and I was in line at Carl's Jr. It didn't end well. I'm going to try my hardest to wear off the sugar high while I'm at my yob.

Toodles.

Relationship Advice

2010-10-27T00:41:00.000-07:00

I keep hearing from people how they're in shitty relationships, mostly from women, and it usually has to do with how much of a douchebag their boyfriend/husband is.

There's two things about men that every woman should know: All of us are douchebags, and more often than not, we're right.

I'm not going to say all men are right all of the time, because that's just too big a fucking lie to even begin to tell. If you're going to lie, at least make it believable. That's the real trick.

Women have it all backwards. They say they prefer the relationship over sex. Most men say this is what they want too, but in this case they're lying. Badly. EVERYONE desires sex over just about anything else. The only thing anyone wants more than sex is to continue living. Why? So they can continue to actually give a fuck about fucking. The "relationship" is a bonus to the sex, not the other way around.

I'm not saying that relationships are bad. In truth, when it comes to all the bells and whistles of being with someone, and all the "I love yous" and other sweet bullshit, I'm an absolute big fat pussy who can't get enough of it. But because I'm honest with myself I have to admit the voice in the back of my head that's screaming "bend that bitch over the sofa, nigga!" takes precedence over the impish one in the front who says "Aw, wasn't that sweet? You should caress her shoulder oh so tenderly."

This applies to gay people too.

I really think women who speak ill towards men for wanting sex are of the same ilk as people who are against masturbation.

Fuck 'em. HARD.

THE CULT INSURGENCY

2010-10-26T02:47:00.000-07:00

The Cult Insurgency

See if you like what you read.

If you do like, instructions for joining are on the top right of the journal.

Radio Disney

2010-10-22T03:10:00.000-07:00

This is epic, and I think it fits pretty well into the Halloween season.

Just Like Me

2010-10-21T01:18:00.001-07:00

I really like this song's message.

FAGGOTS

2010-10-17T02:46:00.000-07:00

Usually when people get all organized and shit I'm completely uninterested, and so far there has only been one exception. Then there are a few other organizations that annoy me, namely the type who try to imitate and/or compete with the Church of Satan. And then there are a few more organizations that I am unabashedly against in every way imaginable and would like nothing better to see burn for their crimes against me. That's right, me.

And here they are:

NÚMERO UNO! The Peace Corps
This is one of the more ingenious inventions of the federal government, handing what they deem to be important issues to civilians in the form of scene kids who like to tease their hair and talk about how activism is cool. Fuck that shit. Anything that has the word "peace" in it can suck my dick, or cock, unless of course it's "fuck peace" or "we have to kill a lot of people before we'll ever see peace, and even then it will be extremely short lived".

To say it's dumb on America's part is dumb. "Yes, let's help all these countries by letting them learn and shit!"
Of course, that's assuming anything we ever do over there ever works out, which it never does. The Peace Corps earns my seal of FAIL.

NÚMERO DOS! Doctors Without Borders
A bunch of arrogant white people who speak French who want to give free medical attention to brown and black people who probably want to kill them. Brilliant. Whenever people get better from something as mundane as the common cold a part of my non-existent soul dies. So imagine my grief when a person with AIDS is cured. Oh wait you don't have to, because that NEVER FUCKING HAPPENS. I'm also tired of hearing about goodguy badge sporting atheists supporting this piece of shit. It's foreign, it has a French name, it involves helping malnourished religious lunatics with guns. I don't like.

NÚMERO TRES! PETA
Let's get one thing straight: one of the few things I actually like in this world are animals, especially little kitties. I also like other animals, namely pigs, cows, and chickens, but mostly for the eating aspect of them. I am annoyed by vegetarians, perplexed by vegans, and fucking loathe PETA, who believe that simply owning an animal as a pet constitutes animal abuse. I won't get into the whole euthanasia thing that Penn and Teller already buttfucked to Hell and back, but I will state a few other things that a lot of people don't know about these fuckers. Actually, it's just one thing, and it has to do with them being a terrorist organization who aids other "animal liberation" terrorist organizations, including people who instruct other people on how to build pip-bombs and shit to destroy other peoples' property. People.

In my opinion these three organizations are the only ones on Earth who deserve any negative attention. Go, my minions, and spam their websites with tickle pr0n!

It Came From Vulcan

2010-10-15T03:21:00.000-07:00

This is sort of an addition to my last post.

As some of you might know, I like Star Trek, specifically the character of Spock. I've said a couple of times that I felt I could relate to Spock, and I'm starting to feel that more and more as my life goes on. Spock was half human, half Vulcan, and made a decision to live in a way decidedly Vulcan, including the suppression of emotions. Nonetheless he was more or less excluded from their society, and was uncomfortable on Earth, with its high volume of emotional humans. He made another decision, that the best environment to satisfy his needs was in space, serving a government of many planets. The main conflict about the character is his seemingly two opposing halves. I find it amusing how much I seem to parallel this in my thoughts.

Often what people consider to be opposing schools of thought I incorporate as being manageable and compatible, and throughout my life I've often received comments saying was "on the fence" too much, or, more harshly, that my views on any given subject were hypocritical or contradicting.

I suppose my brain is default switched to find the third side, and this has been my mode of thinking long before I ever even knew what the term meant, or had any major interest in Trek.

Another problem that has arisen in my scatter-brained window of thinking is lack of input in conjunction with exhaustive output, which is usually split up between things like work, and this blog. I've never been a truly voracious reader, but when I can only find time to get through a dozen pages in a scifi novel in one sitting every other day I see a problem. I have a feeling if I cracked open any of the Great Books my father gave to me the reaction would be interesting to say the least.

Maybe I should start with Marx and post my reaction here. :P

This Suit is NOT Black

2010-10-14T03:29:00.000-07:00

I'm a bit scatter-brained, even moreso at the moment, but I have this feeling that if I try and write it out I might actually get to sleep before the sun comes up.

First of all, I feel mildly terrible. Last night (read: hours ago) I made the mistake of going to PetSmart and petting the cats. One, a mostly white cow-print named Olivia, obviously liked me, and even though she was only $65 with shots and all, I knew I couldn't take her home. The ladies that worked there told me she liked people a lot, so my hope is that Olivia picks someone who will love and care for her, but I can't help but feel a little bit sad that I went so far as to pet and love on this kitty and then leave, essentially window shopping for the poor thing. I might be a jerk most of the time, but when it comes to cats I'm the biggest pussy ever. Heh, that double-entendre kinda makes it feel better.

Secondly, I'd like to submit that I'm quickly becoming fed up with everyones' cheap ass philosophies and value systems. After a few months of letting a few things sink in, I've come to the following conclusions: The ONLY things that hold any water are as follows: I am real. The universe, including all of you people (unfortunately) is real. There is no fucking God, god, gods, goddess/es, Force, etc. All human values are an addition/perversion of our basic biological needs and how we respond to said needs. Based upon the former traits, I am a Satanist.

One of the things that personally struck me about Satanism is that it doesn't offer any illusions regarding objectivity in regards to right/wrong, or even metaphysics. Granted, it is pretty much a pre-fucking-requisite that Satanists are atheistic (or at least fit the colloquial definition of agnostic) but other than that it's a religion concerned with the self, and how the self achieves its goals, whatever they may be. Now, this is a simplification, and if you really want to know all the basics, read the fucking book.

Furthermore, while "Alien Elite" is indeed a Satanic buzz-word, and is accurate within the specific context, it does not imply that just because an individual happens to be a Satanist that they are impervious to the influence of others, even non-Satanists. For example, values and philosophies.

I think that most peoples' values are largely unoriginal (literally, their origin is not from themselves) and arbitrary. I think this most likely includes a great many Satanists. Not in regard to Satanism, but to all the other smaller, more nuanced values that aren't covered, the kind that most people pass off as "common sense" and/or don't even recognize as a value in the first place. Personally, I see NO point in carrying around a value that will change under pressure. That's why I hate philosophical questions about "what would you do in Hurrican Katrina", etc. because there's no use in making up your mind now, when you'd probably do something totally different if you were actually in that situation. I say do what feels "right" then, and don't worry about it. Some people are real pussies.

I question my values. Whenever I find myself feeling strongly about something, I wonder why that is. I am becoming increasingly skeptical of things like patriotism and loyalty. Don't worry, I'm not planning on becoming a domestic terrorist or any of that bullshit. There's one thing I do know, and that is: agree with them or not, the USA is not the country with whom to fuck. I'd like to draw a comparison to the character of Edward Blake in the Watchmen graphic novel. He basically embodies moral nihilism and violence, which are arguably anti-American values. And yet his costume later consists of American symbols and works directly for the Federal government. You do what you have to do to become satisfied.

There is also one other thing I am sure of: I love kitties. Why I do, I do not care. I simply love loving cats.

BURIED IN THE BACKYARD: A Halloween Short Story by Napalm Nick

2010-10-09T02:32:00.000-07:00

George, Lewis, Mike, Phil, and Josie were sitting around their TV watching Svengali and snacking on doritos and coke for what seemed like the hundredth time. In reality, it was closer to the thousandth, but none of them cared; Svengali, doritos, and coke were all very good. The only one of them who used his actual given name was Lewis. George's was actually “Jorge”, Mike's “Miguel”, Phil's “Filipe”, and Josie's “José”. And yet everyone except them and one other person wanted to call Lewis “Luis” for some reason. It never seemed to bother Josie that he had adopted a girl's name.

Right as John Barrymore got the crazy eye, the bright red phone in the dining room started to ring. Lewis darted up, with a prompt “I'll get it!”

It had only rung three times before he picked it up and placed it to his ear. “Hello?”

A voice on the other end replied; a soft, gentle yet manly voice, with a slight Irish brogue. “Lewis? Is that you?” A smile cracked on Lewis' face. “Yeah, Nick, this is me.” Nick was the other person who got his name right. He spoke again, “Well, I have a job for you boys, but not the usual. I have a friend, a man named Derek Nelson, on the other side of town who needs your help with some gardening issues. Normally I'd get someone else but I feel you have all proven yourselves worthy of such a task. I don't want you walking at this time, as it will cause unnecessary attention. The car should be in your driveway now. Good luck.”

And there it was. A red 1966 Chevrolet Impala was sitting in the driveway waiting to be taken out for a spin. “What's the car here for?” Phil asked. Lewis gave him a smirk, “Nick says he doesn't want us to draw too much attention.”

They drove down the mainstreet, passing all sorts of modern cars on the way, everyone humbly ignoring them. The shops and stores were sort of a mish-mash of new and old, some with big plastic signs, others with half-burned-out neon. Those places were usually better, if not a little more curious than the sterile, modern ones. George was driving, as was usual, and he began to wonder out loud. “This might sound stupid, but has it ever been day here? I think I remember a sunset or two, but I'm not sure.” The boys thought for a moment, and Mike started to say something, but his speech drifted off at the moment they all realized the uncertainty of the matter was to be expected. In fact the only thing that was certain was getting to Derek's. The Impala stopped at an intersection, in the turn lane. Josie sat up from the back, “It's on this street?” George gave him a quick glare through the rear-view, “No numb-nuts, the one we passed two blocks back. Yes, it's this street!” When the Impala got on to the street that Derek's house was situated at, all the Spanish tile that adorned the tops of the other buildings disappeared in favor of actual shingles. The sidewalks were empty, and even the houses themselves appeared to mirror them in that respect. All except one, which had a very large American flag in the front lawn which was attached to a long pole in a cement-filled bucket.

As Lewis got out of the car and stepped on his cigarette butt a tall man with lots of tattoos and a beer gut welcomed them. “Well shit, I know Nick said you guys were new but I wasn't exactly expecting a pack of midget spics!” All of the boys just stood there, waiting for him to say something more substantial. Derek looked them over a bit before speaking again. “How old are y'all?”

“Seventeen,” they spoke in unison. “Hm. And how long you been here?”

“Bout thirty years, name's George.” Derek shook George's hand, acknowledging his name. He did the same for Phil and Mike, who'd been there for 25 each, and Josie, who'd been for 20. He then approached Lewis. “What about you, son?” Lewis stuck out his hand. “Lewis, 'round 20 years.”

“Luis, very good.”

Derek took a few steps back. “Well, all you been here for at least 20 years, which means you most likely seen some pretty fucked up shit. But I promise what you will see tonight will make everything in the past look like a stale piece of dog-vomit in comparison.”

The inside of Derek's house seemed pretty normal middle-American. That is, normal middle-American on Halloween. A large orange plastic bowl filled with candy sat on a small table near the doorway, and rubber bats and skulls hung around the ceiling. Derek's TV was on; Jamie Lee Curtis was babysitting and the kids were watching The Thing. Phil was the last one in, and all of the sudden the average-sized living room seemed rather claustrophobic. George spoke to Derek, “So, what was all that stuff about fucked up shit? Nick told us you had gardening issues. Figured it was just another one of his routine racist jokes, but how bad could it be?”

Derek's eyebrow raised ever-so-slightly, and he responded to George's question with what sounded a little like regret. “Well, in one sense gardening is probably the most understated euphemism I've ever heard, and in another it's almost exactly right,” he took a quick swig of cider, “I got a few zombies in the back that like to dig themselves out every once and while and stir up a fuckin' cauldron of shit. My main concern is the deck I'm trying to build. They trash any of those supplies and equipment and I'm going to be in a whole new dimension of pissed off, ya dig?”

Right after he said that the door-bell rang. Derek gave out a quick curse and pointed to Phil. “You get that? Here just give 'em some of this.” He handed Phil a couple of candies. As Phil opened up the door he was surprised to see children in costumes, and hear them shout “Trick 'r Treat!”

The houses across the street were also heavily decorated in Halloween trinkets: fake headstones, skeletons, jolly rogers hanging from the tops of garages, and green, orange, and red lights. Phil handed out candy from his hand and the orange bowl, and closed the door. He looked back to Derek, who was oblivious as to what was so strange. “Follow me, kids.”

They went through the kitchen and into his garage, and went out the side door into the back yard. Sure enough Derek had 2X4's and assorted tools next to the house ready to be put to use. He guided them to the center of the yard, grabbing shovels on the way. As he handed out the shovels he spoke, “OK, these are not for digging. You dig these bastards out before they want to and you're not going to like the results. These are for two purposes and two purposes only: one, bashing them over the skull. Repeatedly. Two, re-burying them with the dirt they manage to kick up around the graves. Ya dig?”

“No.” Josie replied. Derek stopped in front of him and gave him a deep glare. “Smart ass.”

“OK girls, I'm gonna go inside and finish watching my movie. I'll check up on you through the kitchen window every now and then to make sure you don't fuck up too bad.”

And so the boys stood there with shovels in hand and waited. Mike pulled out a cigarette and lit it. “Now what I don't get it is why the fuck this guy has zombies in his backyard. I mean, he seems nice enough, I don't think he killed anyone. Did like, some old hag put a curse on a bunch of random dead bodies and bury them in his backyard?” George chipped in, “Knowing this part of town that sounds reasonable.” Mike nodded. “Yeah, but here's another thing: if that's the case why doesn't he just move 'em somewhere else? I mean, why keep burying them in the same place?” “He probably thinks it's funny to watch a bunch of kids with shovels get chased around by dead people,” Josie commented.

They all laughed at that. Lewis had a slight frown. “Better question: Considering like, where we are and shit, what are zombies even doing here? Assuming we're--” his speech was cut short by a hand grabbing his ankle. “Oh shit!” They cried together. Just then they noticed another zombie had already managed to completely crawl out of its grave. “Fuck!”

Mike's cigarette dropped from his mouth and onto the ground. He stamped it out with his foot and then ran at the land-hoofing zombie with his shovel. He got one good swing in, making a satisfying ping sound, but not soon after the beast grabbed him by the head and threw him into the brick wall that bordered off Derek's yard from the alleyway. The zombie that had Lewis' foot now had its head out and then jolted out of the grave, tripping Lewis onto the ground, sending his shovel flying. He watched it descend: the blade was headed straight for his face. He managed to roll out in time, and it stuck into the ground. The zombie then landed its right foot on his ribcage.

Phil and Josie were hammering another zombie back into its hole by striking the shovels directly on top of its cranium. It seemed more annoyed than affected in any real way. Phil shouted to Josie, “Get back!” He gripped the shovel like a baseball bat and swung. It collided with the side of the zombie's neck, sending blackish red fluid onto Josie's shirt. Phil then went to kick it in the head to send it back down the grave, but instead got a zombie fist to the balls. He fell to the ground in agony, as Josie watched in horror. The zombie was completely out of the ground before he realized that he had a shovel in his hands, and started to swing. He missed, several times, and the re-animated corpse grabbed him by the shirt, pulling his neck toward its jaws. It was about to chomp down when George fell into the two, the third and final zombie lurching toward him.

Mike managed to fight off the pain in time to save Lewis, and after a few more blows to the head the zombie seemed to say “fuck it” and started to walk into the alleyway. “What is this shit?” Mike attempted to yell, out of breath. George's zombie met with Josie's, and the two began to corner their respective victims. “Uh, George, what're we gonna do?” “Shut up, I'm thinking!” “Well think fast, 'cause soon we won't be thinking at all!”

No sooner had Josie said the word “all” that the two zombies lunged toward them, tackling them over the short fence, teeth firmly planted in their necks. The two boys shrieked in pain and surprise. Josie tried to pull out his small knife, but the pain was too much. He could feel the dull incisors gnawing at his tendons, and as surreal an experience as it was, he could almost see a video-game style “jugular meter” that was getting a little too close for comfort. More pangs of agony washed over as the bodies of the zombies fell on top of them, followed by loud “thunking” noises. Mike was attacking them from behind, lodging the blade of the shovel into their backs with each swing. Spinal tissue was torn to shit, and after a few more good ones the distinctive sound of vertebrae dislodging was heard.

Lewis just stared at the carnage, barely able to move. He clutched his sore ribs. He was to have a few literal stitches in his side after this one for sure. The things seemed to yell, but it resembled a half-enthusiastic moan than any proper crying-out. After Mike was satisfied he yanked the paralyzed bodies off of his friends, and dumped them back into the graves. He was sweating profusely, and took a few moments to breathe and sigh obnoxiously. “Holy balls man,”

George and Josie were still on their backs, eyes closed, panting. “Hey, you think we'll be like, affected by uh, this?” George motioned to his neck. Mike started to pile on the dirt, and every now and then one of the zombies would give out a moan. He'd remedy this with a “shut the fuck up!” followed by a ping. Derek managed to speak over Mike's racket: “Nah, you'll be fine, ain't like the fuckers you seen in movies.” “Then what the fuck are they? OK, they fucking jumped up into the air at velocities that would make a fucking Olympic gold medalist look like a sack of shit, and now you tell us that when they bite, nothing happens? Are they designed to be annoying and painful, but not much else?” Josie remarked. Derek smirked, “Yeah, somethin' like that.” “So you guys got 'em all right? I don't see or hear anything.”

Lewis spoke up, “No, uh, the uh, the. The third one got away.” Mike turned around with a halfway pissed off, halfway perplexed look on his face, “Lewis? What the fuck are you doing here I thought you went after that oth--”

The front door to Derek's house opened. “Holy mother of fuck, I ain't got a shovel! Come quick!”

Mike ran around the side toward the front, followed by Phil, who was still grabbing his nuts. George and Josie limped their way, tagging along. The zombie slowly crept up toward Derek, who was leaning against his sink, trying desperately to think of something to do in case the thing jumped at him before the boys got there. As luck would have it the dead bastard lunged precisely three seconds before Mike could enter the front door. Mostly because he paused for a second, taking note that there wasn't any evidence of Halloween outside.

Derek dodged, and in the process grabbed the zombie's wrist. “Gotcha, bitch!” He shoved its hand into the garbage disposal and flipped the switch. The dark liquid went everywhere, and Derek kept the hand in there until the blade stopped making noise. Before that could happen Mike got up beside Derek. “You got this?” “Fuck no, whack 'em!” And so he did. The metal blade met with the zombie's head and each time the thing attempted to do... something. In all actuality it wasn't much, but was just enough to look hilarious had you not been either Derek or Mike. Phil came into the room, and mumbled to himself, “Alright, I'm good. These guys got this.”

Apparently zombies have a knack for irony, so it decided right then to elbow Derek in the face, and knock Mike onto the floor. Phil got another sacking, and, in an attempt to not appear completely useless, both George and Josie lifted their shovels slightly before the zombie jumped out of the front door and onto the roof.

Derek looked at the doorway in disbelief. After a moment he spoke. “Well, at least the deck shit wasn't trashed.” A loud cracking noise was heard coming from the back. Derek then proceeded to utter the word “fuck” in such a way as to give William Shatner a run for his money.

His rage was soon interrupted by a high-pitched scream. Everyone exchanged glances: “Lewis!”

The sounds of struggle were unmistakable, but judging from Lewis' earlier performances, he didn't have a chance. They all ran back the way they came in a desperate attempt to rescue him from severe fuck-uppery. On the way several pings were heard, but more crashes of fists into flesh, and shrieks of pain from Lewis. In an action of victory, the zombie gave out a moan, and a loud thud was heard. They all made it into the back. The floodlight managed to light the place up well enough, but they got there too late.

All they could see was an amorphous figure plummet into the grave. Another moan sounded, and then, nothing. Derek, George, Phil, Josie, and Mike stood, and their minds went blank. They didn't have much else to do. Lewis, who had consistently proven himself the runt of the group in the past, was just defeated by a painful, and yet utterly harmless corpse.

Derek sighed. “Whoo! Fuc-King A!” He lit up a cigarette and began to say something about how it was going to be a bitch to drag an unconscious Lewis out of a six foot hole. Phil had a good laugh, and then a cry, when he realized that laughing hurt his testicles.

Ping.

The sound of a shovel hitting skull. There was movement coming from the grave. Earth and roots were shuffling around, and a dirty, bloody hand gripped the grass above it. Soon followed the ridiculous pattern on Lewis' t-shirt, and after that the full Lewis himself. He stood, with shovel in hand, the floodlight shining on him, in all his dirt and viscera covered glory.

Back in Derek's living room they had Count Chocula and discussed the events of the night. All the boys had to agree, that was by far the most fucked up shit they had ever seen or done since they'd been there. Turns out Derek gets really pissed off when a movie ends, so they called it a night. They opened the door, and the house across from his had a giant inflatable jack-o-lantern in the yard. George just shook his head. He opened up the car and started her up. Derek walked out onto his front porch. “Hey, Phil. Roll down the window, Derek wants to say something.”

“You guys ever need to occupy your time with crazy shit, just call me, OK?” “Yeah, sure thing!” George said. He shifted gears. Derek raised up his hand. “Oh, I almost forgot: Happy Halloween!”

Gyps Fulvus

2010-10-05T00:30:00.000-07:00

It occurred to me with my last post I omitted a very important musical artist from my holiday selection. I'm taking this opportunity to dedicate and individual post to them: Gyps Fulvus.

The music is a blend of gothic electronica and dark, horror-themed soundscapes that provide the perfect ambiance for witchcraft.

Diabolus in Musica

2010-10-04T01:37:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm definitely getting into the Halloween spirit big time now. To further enhance your enjoyment of the sinister season, I present to you Black Transmissions.

While MD himself offers many darker themed essays and other assorted writings year round, he has a special Halloween themed playlist you can listen to on his site as well. Rob Zombie, Misfits, The Cramps, Siouxie and the Banshees, The Damned, and even Herr Doktor all make a sonic appearance.

And while I'm at it I'll go ahead and post some pieces I feel are appropriate for the occasion:

I Was Bored

2010-10-03T18:11:00.000-07:00

So I typed in "niggers.ca" into my browser. Yes, I know that's Canadian, but "niggers.com" was a generic search engine, "niggers.net" doesn't exist, and I'm afraid to try "niggers.gov".

Anyways, here's what I saw: niggers.ca

No shit. So far I've tried "kike.ca" and "bitch.ca", and those have worked, but "wetback.ca" didn't. Racists.

Wicked, Wicked October

2010-10-01T16:02:00.000-07:00

Seeing as how October is here, the month which brings us Halloween, I thought I'd give you guys a treat.

These two sites are responsible for a great deal of my traffic, and they fit in perfectly for the season:

Twisted Jenius

Materies Morbi

Enjoy.

Blog Statistics

2010-10-01T09:13:00.000-07:00

Hi, all. Well, last night out of a whim, I hit the "stats" button on my dashboard for the first time ever. To say the very least I got an ego boost; I didn't realize just how many page fews I had, and from such strange places in the world (I have readers in Bulgaria!).

I'll edit this post later to include some of the gems I found, but for now I'll just include one of the search terms that's been entered to find my blog:

cock rearranged her inner organs

You're welcome.

EDIT: I would tell you all of my other statistics, but I think I make a better wizard if I keep those secrets to myself. All I need now is an epic beard.

"Proud Parent"

2010-09-30T20:54:00.000-07:00

Back in the day when I was a retarded teenager who still used MySpace (now im matture and use facebook lol), there was an option to display one's marital status, as well as your parental status. Options ranged from "I don't want kids" to "Proud parent". I have absolutely no idea what made me remember this, but I did, and naturally I have something to say about it. I know that making everyone who happens to have children display it as "proud" of doing so is nice and PC, but reality doesn't care for such things. Truth is, not every parent is proud of their creations. Nor does every parent love their children. There are some parents who thoroughly despise their children, and have done everything short of killing them as a display of their hatred. I'm referring to fully developed, already born people. As for how I feel about abortion: to avoid a massive argument and twelve footnotes of explanations I'll say I'm "pro-choice", and that is more or less correct.

Fucked up kids grow up to become fucked up adults, who then breed to fill the world up with more fucked up people of all sizes. I'm not in favor of self-extinction. And, in order for our species to remain healthy, we need fuck ups. I just feel sorry for the non-fuck ups and the children of fuck ups who have the potential to dodge the bullet that their parents got slugged with. Being raised by someone who loathes your existence can't be a good thing. Sure, it might be a learning experience (to say the least) but it's going to leave you waking up each morning wishing that you didn't feel like such a piece of shit. Or, you could end up shooting your drill sergeant shortly before taking your own life. I dunno. It's all sociology and psychology and all that other stuff that makes absolutely no sense to morons like myself.

Irresponsible parents are worse than just about any other being I can imagine. I'm pretty sure they're in the same genus as "the cheater". Someone who was dishonest with themselves, then to another, and ended up royally fucking up the rest of the world in the "process" of their mental degeneration into shit. Because Marines are not allowed to die without permission.

What I mean by being dishonest with themselves, etc. is the fact that these people probably don't like kids, but are stuck in the cultural paradigm that tells them getting married and having a family is normal, and therefore good. First of all, anyone who's afraid of being abnormal can go fuck themselves. Same goes for people who buy into false dichotomies concerning good and bad.

Personally, I wouldn't say I hate children, but most of them make me uncomfortable. Little people of all ages frighten me. Then there's the noise, and not the good kind of noise that's made with computer programs and shit. Then there's the unavoidable fact that they are going to be dumb. Sure, some children will learn faster than others, but they all start out pretty much the same: tiny retards. Having said that, I can't deny kids have this something to them that most adults end up losing at some point in time, and I think it has to do with their perspective.

For those of you who read the title of this thinking that I was going to have a kid, fuck that shit. Even if I absolutely adored children right now is not the fucking time. Haha, get it? Fucking time?

Knowing how I feel now, and the fact that I'm male with no biological clock telling me it's time to reproduce, I'll probably never have kids. Why? Because if I remain the way I am now for the unforeseen future, I will be a terrible parent. No child deserves Napalm Nick as their dad. I mean, that's just a scary name, and scaring children is bad form.

Next time you see someone leave their kid in the car, or yelling at them in the middle of walmart, or any other such dumbfuckery, let them know that I'm coming to dinner tonight. I want justice, with a side of spaghetti.

Is that you John Wayne? Is this me?

Take the Veil...

2010-09-30T13:48:00.000-07:00

I've had this song in my dreams a couple of times, and thought nothing of it. (Really, still don't)
Nonetheless my interest in dreams was enough to look up the lyrics. Today was the first time I'd read the lyrics to this song, as they were not provided in the CD insert.

The lyrics:

You must have been phlegmatic in stature
The gates of thanos are a spread eagle wide
You let the shutters make sackcloth and ashes
Out of a blind mans picaresque heart

You take the veil
You'll take the dive
You take the veil

It's not over till the tremulant sings
These ides of march
Are they so make believe
How tempts the revenant
Slice up and not across

You take the veil
You'll take the dive
You take the veil

A mass of gallon sloth
As flys have walls for feet
A rapturous verbatim-someone said but who is to know
And when you find the fringe
The one last hit that spent you
You'll find the ossuary spilling by the day

The iconoclastic had it coming for years
They know the prisons that you have yet to fear
Where thumbs hide inside of sleepingbag mouths
Adlib your memoires by casting a drought

You take the veil
You'll take the dive
You take the veil

A mass of gallon sloth
As flys have walls for feet
A rapturous verbatim-someone said but who is to know
And when you find the fringe
The one last hit that spent you
You'll find the ossuary spilling by the day

Knife me in -hobbeling
Talking in it's sleep again
Knife me in-hobbeling
Talking in it's sleep again

Knife me in hobbling
Talking in it's sleep again
Knife me in hobbling
Talking in It's sleep again

Virulent hives- of bedpost piles
Virulent hives

Who brought me here
Forsaken, depraved and wrought with fear
Who turned it off
The last thing I remember now
Who brought me here
Forsaken, depraved and wrought with fear
Who turned it off
The last thing I remember now
Who brought me here

Interesting note: my date of birth is March fifteenth. The Ides of March.

String version:

I-theism FTW

2010-09-29T01:06:00.000-07:00

I have this obsessive idea that anything I write on here needs to be "big"; not necessarily in concept, but literally big as in more than a few large paragraphs. I need to get over this idea. While clarity and explanation are worthy, they are not always necessary to say something of worth.

I like looking at nature, including such grandiose images as those which have been taken by satellites exploring our solar system. Many people will look at such wondrous things and see them as evidence of a creator. I, obviously, do not. I don't speak for everyone coming from an atheistic perspective, and in this particular post, I don't even care to attempt to do so. This is how I see things. The following, that is.

The idea of gods is so obviously human. Doktor LaVey knew this well, and is the premise behind his essay "The God You Save May Be Yourself!" in his book The Satanic Bible. It is also the guiding principle behind I-theism. I see my I-theism not so much concerned with blaspheming against others' ideas of god, but rather moving beyond them.

It's a remarkably simple step, and yet one that many find beyond their comprehension. To them, a god, with many very human qualities, is the end-all be-all of the universe. I find this idea insulting to the universe. Out of all the metaphysical ideas out there, external theism is probably one of the very least creative. Everything that can be known and has yet to be discovered about our minds and the universe has already stomped on the puny memory of Yahweh and his stupid floods and destroying of cities with lightning. We've destroyed cities with single fucking atoms. We have with nothing but our minds and resources designed and constructed things that make the most preposterous Biblical claims look like fucking parlor tricks. Now imagine all the things that we've yet to even scratch the surface of.

By believing your god to be an external projection of your own shitty ideas you not only make the universe you inhabit look bland and constantly disappointing, you also end up earning the hearty fail-chuckles of Merlin.

-Napalm out.

Russian Chicks with Guns

2010-09-27T03:18:00.000-07:00

OK, they don't ALL have guns, but I think it's about time I had a Russian woman appreciation post.

click for larger photos.

I plan on doing an entire series based around hot chicks of different nationalities. So stick around.

Time to Lighten Up

2010-09-24T08:42:00.000-07:00

As I'm sure all of you have noticed, when I'm not updating this blog, I'm post lame videos or something similar. This is due to a few reasons, but I'm going list of the two I originally thought of: work, and laziness.

Now, originally I'd just say that it was work. Work, work, work.

All work and no play makes Nick a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Nick a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Nick a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Nick a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Nick a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Nick a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Nick a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Nick a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Nick a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Nick a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Nick a dull boy.
Man this would suck if it was a type-writer.

But the truth is a I don't work enough to use that as an excuse for almost NEVER posting original content. Shit, I'm about to go to work in a few hours as I type this. The second reason I came up with, and one that I've known for quite some time, is laziness. I'd have to say that sloth is probably my favorite of the seven deadly sins, obviously more than lust, seeing as how I've fallen asleep in the middle of jacking off before. I always find a way to do anything and everything slow as fuck, and usually my free time consists of me eating a box of cheez-its sitting on my bed. Not watching TV or anything (Fuck TV), just sitting there, probably with the lights off. I can't read properly without glasses, to fucking hell with the lights off.

But you know what I realized right before the god of laziness, Slothgar, took me into his seven hour embrace called "sleep"? It's neither of those things. I take myself and everything I do way too fucking seriously. A wise man once said that someone who takes himself too seriously gives no one else the opportunity to do the same. In other words, the more self-important and humorless you are, the more people are going to make fun of you behind your back and call you names like "pussy-fart smoker" and "lower abdominal wart removing agent with Redsox fan extract". I actually have no idea what kind of names people call each other nowadays, but that's because I'm not hip.

I'm thigh.

Because I'm always so serious I end up placing myself in a situation where feel as though I need to be filling my lazy time with other, more creative-oriented work. And because I KNOW I'm not going to do anything because I simply don't feel like it, I end up feeling guilty over my own fucking twist-around bullshit. There has been an advantage to this, and it's simply that by stretching this guilt, I managed to squeeze out a couple of new ideas, and actually start writing shit down. But other than that it's bullshit. If your guilt is working against you then you might as well stab it to death with a fountain pen. Holy shit, that sounded way more poetic than I intended.

And no, by serious I don't mean "almost never smiling, never joking, etc". I wouldn't smile that often even if I was the happiest man on earth, and as an extension of that, unless a joke is really slapstick I almost always deliver them deadpan; doesn't mean they're not humorous. What I mean is not being wise enough to not let petty little things get to me and allow my brain to clog up with bullshit.

So, I won't end this with "Why so serious?" because enough people have already said that to me because I don't smile, and if I said it that'd mean I'd have to strangle myself.

I'll simply end it with "good luck".

:P

Christian Propaganda and Manson

2010-09-19T14:53:00.000-07:00

Khan Rage Guy

2010-09-19T02:01:00.000-07:00

Image created by Ari Bach.

INTERVIEW: Joel Peterson

2010-09-16T23:35:00.000-07:00

You probably know Joel Peterson from his blog Degenerate Diatribe, or as being the author behind old-school gaming blog Loaded Cartridge. Both are in my link list. Of all the people I've interviewed, Joel seemed too obvious a choice, and wasn't going to do it unless he asked me, per my policy. Well, turns out people caught on to what I thought was my "secret" policy, and they stopped asking. Which was great considering how much of a pain in the ass these things are to conduct, edit, and copy/paste these annoying fucking tags next to each goddamned --anyways, I took the opportunity of you all thinking I was never ever going to do one of these again to interview Joel. I am in no way shape or form lying to you in any capacity whatsoever when I tell you with the utmost sincerity and honesty that this interview, which was taken very seriously, is quite possibly, particularly, and probably the greatest interview not only conducted by myself, but in the known universe. Penis.

------------------------------------------------

NN: You've gone by a couple internet monikers, namely Phosis and The Degenerate; care to tell a little of the backstory on these?

JP: Certainly. Phosis the Dolphin was a comic strip I penned, inked, and directed. It was highly successful at the time, garnering over fourty unique web hits. It was hosted on my friends website, and was about a suicidal dolphin who lived with his roommate, and their friend, an accused pedophile dolphin from Spain that nobody could understand. He was actually based on a friend of ours from Spain, who was possibly a pedophile, and who we could not understand. Once, he sent us a picture of him as a pirate with a CG moonlit background that he used to pick up girls. He stayed at home all day playing Unreal, and collected government checks for six years. The only reason he was unemployed is because he knew if he found a job, they would stop sending him checks. The Degenerate is a word I found in the dictionary somewhere between the words Day, and Dictionary.

NN: How old were you when you first read The Satanic Bible?

JP: That's a very good question, Nick. In order to answer it, we need to go back to my early days, when I was an out of work chimney sweep begging for change on the streets of London. And then, we have to stop talking about that, because it is not true. So to answer your question, Nick, I was roughly the same age when I first read The Satanic Bible as I was when I first read about Satanism. And this was somewhere between the age I was ten years ago and the age I am now. To narrow it down even further, I dug up the receipt that was given to me when I purchased the book. Much of it is smudged off, but here is what was left.

THANK YOU FOR SHOPPING AT CHAPTERS!

NN: I realize that you've adopted a more nihilistic point of view when it comes to explaining your personal views, and how you present them. Were there any specific circumstances that led you to feel this way?

JP: Probably the untimely death of my wife and daughter at the hands of the Italian mafia. I can still hear their terrible screams each time I close my eyes, and each time they open again in the morning. But moreso than that, I'd say it has something to do with the fact that life his no intrinsic meaning or value, and that we are all going to die alone, miserable, worthless, and dead. Our accomplishments will mean nothing because our bones will be burned to a crisp or buried under the cold Earth to rot for a thousand millenia. Our families will forget us, and go on to die themselves in the same terrible ways, and when the sun is finally too large, and there are too many wretched humans left for life to be supported, the great collapse will occur where we will be roaming the wastelands, looking for the next scattered tribe of humans to desecrate and plunder. But even moreso then all of that, Nick, is the fact that a fat Italian slut-whore named Snooki has now become a cultural icon looked up to by millions of people who...well, read the above again if you need clarification.

NN: How old were you when you discovered you like to write? When did writing start to become serious for you?

JP: I started to write about the same time I started to read. So, basically, when I was twenty one. But before that, I was making up stories that were just as shallow, boring, tedious and redundant as the ones I am now writing and making a very small amount of money off of. High school is when writing became a big hobby of mine, because it was really easy to gain extra-ciricular credits in the numerous creative writing courses that existed. I also learned a lot in these classes, mostly about how not to write, and what not to write. That is why I believe that all substantial fiction, poetry, and anything with even a modicum of actual literary value is something that I wish to completely avoid whenever I am working on something.

NN: As many who've closely followed your work know, you're partial to horror and science fiction. Is there anything specific about these genres that attracted you, and what kinds of stories do you like to write?

JP: Well Nick, pretty much anything that is base, and completely played out. I like to take concepts that have existed for years, and put my own twists on them to make them seem less mundane than they actually are. It is in this way that I can avoid any real work, while blaming the poor quality of my writing on stylistic choices. Horror and Science Fiction are chock full of tired cliches, and incredibly overused plotlines and settings. So I find it is very easy to jump in, steal a few of these ideas, and with absolutely no effort whatsoever, be able to create my own works of fiction to peddle off to the masses. I am currently working on a story about a vampire girl who attends a wizard school and has to avoid the wrath of the dragon king while delivering the lost orb of eternal life to the mountains of planet Z-38, home of the robot destroyer force of Alderan.

NN: I can recall when Degenerate Diatribe first started, and it was already quite popular. Even in the brief period when the site was “down” you had many people following you and ever since you've rebooted it, people seem to like it even more. Describe what prompted you to start the blog, your plans on the takedown/reboot, and what you think makes it so damn epic.

JP: Yes, that is an interesting observation, Nick. Since I measure popularity on the lack of negative comments, and not on actual readership or positive feedback, I would have to agree with you. The first iteration of Degenerate Diatribe was however littered with plagarized and copyrighted ideas, and when I recieved too many angry letters from legitimate writers and comedians attorneys, I decided to ressurect it instead as a nihilistic manifesto, which also happens to be the front for a low level anarchist insurgency which I run out of my apartment bathroom. We basically meet every friday, and talk about people we would like to beat up. One of our members, who we refer to as "Chimp" because of his deranged physical appearence due to burn scars and self-inflicted facial disfigurement, once yelled at a police officer. Unfortunately, his revolt was short lived, as they beat him to death shortly thereafter. So to answer your question...well, I don't really remember what it was and since my mouse is broken, I cannot scroll back up and look. Sorry.

NN: You've talked about a new science fiction novel in the works, as well as a book that you described as being similar to Might is Right. Is there anything you didn't cover when you initially discussed these items that you wouldn't mind putting out on the table here?

JP: Yes Ned, there is. First of all, my first poorly recieved and failed novella is being rewritten into a novel so that I may gouge more unsuspecting potential buyers out of their hard earned money, only to have them be ultimately dissapointed with the poor quality of my work. The novel will be more complete, and will tie up any loose story ends, while still remaining an arduous ungratifying chore to sit and suffer through. I was going to also finish my personal diatribe against existence titled, "For Why To Keep Making Live?" but it is on the back burner at the moment in lieu of other projects I am working on. I have also successfully coerced a member of our circle who will now remain nameless to help me on another project. He grew wary of my constant death threats and offers of fellatio, and finally gave in. The project is releated to my science fiction novel, The Polaris Account, but I cannot get into details yet. I promise you, however, anything I do on the project will be just as dissapointing and horrible as the novel.

NN: On your blog there's the music track “Moral Terror”. Can we expect more things like this from you in the future?

JP: Yes Norm, I believe so. Playing with synthesizers is a hobby of mine. Most of my time is spent creating techno remixes of Snake Mans theme from Mega Man 3, but sometimes I get very lucky and come up with something that is just above reproach. As for Moral Terror, someone has made the horrible mistake of including it in the Black House Tribute II album, which was a direct result of a complex jazz piece being "accidentally" named Moral Terror, and ironically, just so happening to have my name on it as well.

NN: What are some of your favorite movies? Any you'd especially recommend?

JP: There is a complex answer there. I found Street Trash to be a compelling metaphorical observation piece on the decline of Western Civilization; a kind of avant-garde, tongue in cheek look at where we have come from, and where we are going. If I were to describe that masterpiece in one word it would have to be: Film. Other than that, I basically like anything where women are exploited, and made to show their breasts at least once every twenty minutes, and where there are lots of irreverant pop-culture references and jokes that relate to the middle-American masses. Basically, I will watch anything as long as it isn't thought provoking or challenging in any way.

NN: If you could have any part in the future of cinema, what would you do to it?

JP: I would ensure that more remakes and sequels were made, especially to movies that don't necessarily require them. There is a lot of money to be made this way, and were I working in the film industry, I would value this far about any artistic value or cultural significance. I would basically just keep feeding the cash cow, and continue to figuratively vampirize the minds and souls of the public for my own personal and financial gain.

NN: Do you have any favorite artists? Have you ever tried your hand at visual art?

JP: Absolutely not, because art is static. I do not mean that in an obscure observational sense, I really mean that it doesn't move, it just sits there on the page. I guess if I had to choose anyone, I would have to say Jim Davis. His simple line drawings of fat unemotive animals, their pathetic owners, and his lovable quips about the difficulty of waking up on Mondays are something that I can relate to as a human being who also has to wake up on Mondays. I used to be very artistic as a youth, but my creativity was halted by the oppressive communists at my elementary school who did not appreciate my work, and called all of my drawings of penises on my Social Studies textbook "flagrant vandalism". Since I don't know what those two words actually mean, I have just assumed all these years that they meant "subversive and controversial."

NN: If you were the commander of an army of bats and the only way to boost morale was to ingest five pounds of guano in under an hour, would you do it provided the bats would forever be your personal minions?

JP: Really now, Ned, let's not get silly with this interview.

NN: You use Linux. If you're up to it, could you say exactly why you use Linux, and what your opinions on both Microsoft and Apple are.

JP: I basically use Linux because I cannot figure out a consistent way to keep a cracked copy of Windows 7 running on my computer. I have a great respect for Steve Jobs, because he embodies everything I think is stalwart about a man. He respects the environment, is is a hippy, and he appeals to my demographic of hipsters who sit in coffee shops and drink espresso. I like his products because they are so uniquely ME. They allow me to express myself by giving me a choice of different colors. I personally chose the Che Guevara iPod case, and the Martin Luther King iPad skin. I don’t like Microsoft because their software is too straightforward, and is available on cheap, standardized, usable hardware. Everything about PC’s is just so understatedly dull. I mean, if my Mac breaks, it’s no big deal; I just throw it in the garbage, and shell out 3300 dollars for a new one! If my PC breaks, I might have to replace a thirty dollar piece of ram, or reinstall some software. That’s just so…unhip.

NN: What is your general history in gaming? Any plans for the future of Loaded Cartridge?

JP: Well, pretty much, the only game I have ever played all the way through is Halo. I like playing Halo because you run and shoot things and yell at twelve year olds over your microphone so that you can boost your own failing ego. It is repetitive enough that it keeps you focused through pure monotony alone, and colorful enough that you are kept distracted so that you don't really have an urge to turn off your Xbox, or in general, to continue on living a normal life. I can't stand classic games because they have terrible graphics, and terrible graphics can be equated to poor gameplay. Basically I avoid anything that is even slightly strategic, or that requires any kind of effort, thought, technique, or skill. That being said, my favorite series is Madden Football. Loaded Cartridge is basically a place where I can post up my Xbox Live achievement points, and compare them to other peoples to have some sense of control and accomplishment in my otherwise worthless life.

NN: As an expecting father, what kinds of sick and demented boot camp obstacle courses are you going to subject your children to? In this current world we live in, are you daunted by the prospect of raising kids?

JP: Just think of the movie Conan, and you will have your answer to that. A giant wheel in the desert equals one hell of a tough kid. I am essentially having children so that I can collect government money. Once they are old enough to churn, I am going to start selling home made butter using surplus grocery store milk. This will pay for what little food they will be able to eat, and they will be clothed by the cloth of discarded mattresses found daily in the dumpster out back. So no, I think it will be a good learning experience for them. And when they are finally old enough to wear my hand me downs, they will appreciate my lack of mollcoddling, and unique parental techniques.

NN: What are your opinions on tattoos/piercings?

JP: Well, for tattoos, I really like unoriginal Japanese lettering, and random Baphomets and inverted crosses. These show the masses that you are hardcore enough to be branded for life with something you will probably be sick of by the time you are sixty. I think they are a great financial choice, because nothing says priority spending like a bunch of ink painfully injected into your pores with a vibrating needle device. Being a fan of self-mutilation, I also appreciate those nose bars that make you look like a caged bull, and those earings that stretch your ear lobes out like Paris Hilton's overused, rotten vagina. The rotting gangrenous skin that they conceal also consequently has a similar odor, so I can definitely see the appeal.

NN: Do you have any other projects in the works besides the books mentioned?

JP: Right now I am basically writing a government proposal that would advocate and legalize violence against the homeless. I have garnered a lot of support, mostly from other porch dwelling, angry, shotgun wielding libertarians like myself. I also have a band with my friend, which I would describe as "Jazz Fusion with a touch of Reggae". Of course, he would describe it as "light rock" but he is from Russia, and therefore his opinions account for nothing on the sweet sweet soil of North America.

NN: Are there any favorite blogs or other sites you'd care to share?

JP: There are a few. The Fugazi Fan Ring, Burka View, Christian Week Talk Monthly, and Halal Justice. I am also a big supporter of the Socialist Liberation Front, and a frequent subscriber to Transvestite Monthly magazine. Also getting into this new blog called In Support of the Communist Agenda, and a brand new up and comer web site, which is essentially an endorsement for Mexican slavery.

NN: Do you find humanity moreso entertaining or disgusting?

JP: Humans are all wonderful creatures, unique souls which have been carefully crafted for unique purposes by an invisible creator. I truly love everyone equally. I have been told by Cro-Mags that world peace is a myth, but my heart has told me that we all can truly get along...if we just open our minds, our eyes, our hearts, our kidneys, and our spleens.

NN: Anything you'd like to say to everyone reading this?

JP: Yes, Nick. There is.

Saturday Night Special

2010-09-11T01:41:00.000-07:00

In his book Restricting Handguns: The Liberal Skeptics Speak Out, civil rights attorney and gun scholar Don Kates found racial overtones in the focus on the Saturday Night Special ("niggertown Saturday night special"). Even gun control advocate Robert Sherrill claimed: "The Gun Control Act of 1968 was passed not to control guns but to control blacks."

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saturday_night_special

NEW SONG!!!

2010-09-08T02:12:00.000-07:00

My band Phic has a new song up. MySpace fucked with their entire layout, and I couldn't figure out how to move the new song to the top, so it's at the very bottom of the playlist, titled "Truth".

I hope you enjoy it. One more to qualify for an EP and we should be heading to ReverbNation.

http://www.myspace.com/sangresounds

Loyalty

2010-09-04T04:14:00.000-07:00

People are scumbags. Not most people, all people. Including myself. Don't take that the wrong way; I'm not into self-loathing, I'm merely pointing out that the entirety of our species is a piece of shit.

I think one of the most annoying man-made objects ever is loyalty. Loyalty is akin to slavery, and is an enemy of individualism (which is just another construction, but one I prefer over most others). People will fuck you over sideways based on your loyalties. In the United States the only crime that is described in our constitution is treason, which is basically being disloyal to the country. And then there's politics, and other completely arbitrary values that people love to tack on to their flare-infested jackets. You question a value, your loyalty to said value is questioned, even if you still consider yourself loyal. If you're a Democrat and you support the death penalty you will be accused of being a closet Nazi; if you're a Republican and you're OK with gay marriage you become an instant free-love hippie. It doesn't even have to be the obvious politics, either. It invades your personal life because it's already invaded your mind and the minds of those around you. Someone who's fixated on loyalty is usually the same kind of person who has a shallow perspective on things like honesty and trust. If people were more direct with their communication they wouldn't need to worry about the motivations and plans of others. But dishonesty, along with loyalty are one of the hallmarks of our culture. It makes for an interesting mix, usually leading to severe paranoia and general ill-will towards others for no apparent reason.

When it's generally accepted that most of your communications to other people are going to be pure bullshit, it's really not that surprising that people are so high strung and wondering about whether or not their spouse is having an affair. Add to that this generally idea that the most noble thing you can do to another person is agree with them, give them your mental and emotional loyalty. Fuck that. Not everyone is worth agreeing with. Even the people I am closest to aren't. Me being my own separate person I'm going to naturally deviate from someone else's standards of what's good and what's bad, whether that means the taste of a taco, or the state of affairs in North Korea.

What most people seem to forget is that it's possible to disagree with someone and not hate them. This whole shebang of loyalty, dishonesty, and paranoia are the building blocks of an egalitarian society that thrives on everyone nodding their heads in agreement and complacency. It's just another form of mental slavery.

¡Matando Güeros!

2010-09-04T02:29:00.000-07:00

Just saw Machete. Was reminded of this.

You might have noticed use of "Satanas" in here, but in reality these guys are about as Satanic as Venom.

La Roux

2010-09-01T07:13:00.000-07:00

It's ridiculous how much I love this band. Got their album and it rocks.

Might post actual content later today depending on whether or not I'm tired off my balls.

Disney Gonna Fuck You Up

2010-08-31T16:56:00.000-07:00

Pulp Disney

Thanks to Mr. Donawicz for showing these to me.

Lojban

2010-08-30T14:43:00.000-07:00

As I was looking through the site of the Klingon Language Institute, I happened to stumble upon this site.

One of the better known speakers of Klingon was referred to as a "Lojbanist", with that word hyperlinked, so I clicked it. I'm glad I did, as this is probably the most awesome thing I've ever come upon. From the site:

Lojban is a carefully constructed spoken language designed in the hope of removing a large portion of the ambiguity from human communication. It was made well-known by a Scientific American article and references in science fiction. Lojban has been built over five decades by dozens of workers and hundreds of supporters.

This is amazing. Another important thing to take note of is another reason why Lojban has been developed: The Sapir-Whorf hypothesis. This hypothesis states that our language controls how we think, and that means can even limit it. I'm sure many of you who speak another language know that there are certain concepts that are easier to discuss in one language than the other. The vocabulary of Lojban is based on Arabic, Chinese, English, Hindi, Russian, and Spanish; the most populous languages on Earth. However the actual grammar and syntax is based on predicate logic.

Wondering what it sounds like? Well here ya go:

You even get creepy-ass neck-bearded guys like this:

Yeah. That was really creepy. Almost as creepy as that one Linux video that used to be on Degenerate Diatribe.

But to make this post a little more serious than my usual brain droppings, I'll start here.

No, here. I've always been fascinated by language; how people speak, how their writing systems look, etymology, etc. I can only speak a handful of Russian phrases but I can pronounce every letter in the Russian Cyrillic alphabet. When I was learning German and Spanish it was more out of that personal curiosity than anything else. But with a language like Lojban there is actually a practical purpose to learn it: I can potentially become a better thinker than the one I am today. I mean, the fact that I'm interested in other languages at all means that my cognitive abilities far exceed the average table busser my age, but the fact that I can unlock massive brain potential by learning another that operates on the rules of logic is just astounding.

It's like that one part in Dragonball Z where Guru unlocks Krillin and Gohan's potential power, and Krillin's like "Damn, nigga, I don't feel any different!"

But if you are interested you can visit lojban.org or just run a Google search for "Lojban". There's a shit ton of stuff.

Things to Come

2010-08-26T22:51:00.000-07:00

I've had a busy week, and next week isn't looking promising. But I do have new material planned, and instead of me keeping it in a secret odt file on my desktop I'll go ahead and share them with you.

Specifically concerning this blog: Two entries I've already thought about, one concerning specific religious aspects of modern humans, and the other concerning language. It dawned on me that most of the stuff I post on the internet makes me seem really fucking stupid, so I figured I'd actually take the time to write something with content. I'll probably add more topics to the list as they occur to me.

Also, I'm one more trip to the recording studio (yes, an actual recording studio) away from uploading my band's second official track. All that's left is for it to be mixed. So yes, I actually have something tangible to share, and it's taken me and my band mates 6 1/2 hours so far. For a song that's a little of seven and a half minutes. Big reality check. Fans of prog rock, blues, and noise should like it a lot.

See y'all later.

Religious Pieces of Shit

2010-08-25T08:16:00.000-07:00

You might have noticed that I don't talk too much about religion on this here blog. That's not because I don't hate religion (I do) but because about 50 million other pissed off atheists beat me to the chase decades before I ever even existed, and me saying the same shit as Richard Dawkins, except without a cool degree and a hip British accent, just wouldn't rock the boat the right way. What a cunt.

But if there's one thing I've noticed, it's that most people who say they're religious really aren't. It was Christopher Hitchens (Richard Dawkins lite) who pointed this out with my following, badly paraphrased sentence: ". . . if you go out on a Sunday morning in Dallas you'll notice that the city is still very alive and bustling; in fact very few are in church."

I think that out of all the people who claim to be religious, the church-going type are probably a minority. Which is pretty fucking good considering just how boring church is. When they aren't shipping Bibles off to kids in India they're talking about how if you ever need anything ever you can just pray to Jesus. The bastard never got me the fucking Megazord toy. But you know what? When it was reissued at Toys "R" Us I went and bought it myself. That's right, a 20 year old adult male bought himself a toy from the Power Rangers show in the 90's. Fuck you, Jesus.

Regardless of whether or not people "believe" in god is irrelevant when compared to their actions: they live as though there isn't one. I mean, shit, I've considered myself an atheist since I knew what the word meant and a fucking Satanist since I read The Satanic Bible, and some people who call themselves Christians can easily surpass me in terms of sheer raunchiness and unbridled lust for everything indulgent and sinful. Once you've seen two "Christian" girls fondling each others naughty bits with smiles on their faces, you know exactly what's going down, and it probably isn't you judging by their receipt from the Home Depot.

As for religious people who are sincere, and who might cause some damage, it's basically down to the big three desert dogmas: Christianity, Islam, and Judaism. Judaism is easy to fix. All that needs to happen is for the USA to completely sever ties with Israel, because quite frankly they make us look bad. Christianity is a bit problematic, but the biggest issue is that it takes itself too seriously. And all this means is that we need to stop taking it seriously completely and indefinitely.

I realize that Islam is a much bigger problem, but I think the biggest problem is that some people are actually bullied into being afraid of it. I'm not about to ask you to petition the mosque near ground zero or anything like that, because to be completely honest I don't give a shit. I care less about that than the BP oil spill, and that's saying something.

So what's the game-plan? How do we move throughout the world taking advantage of the weak-religious types and avoiding the strong ones? As far as I can tell the easiest way to do this is to act exactly like me. This consists of a couple things, but really they are the same thing, and they are: a)don't care, and b) be ignorant as fuck.

That's right. Fight willful ignorance with regular ignorance. I'm not saying you shouldn't learn new things. I'm just saying remove yourself from the media piece of shit world you live in. Don't watch TV, don't go to news websites, and especially never ever listen to new music unless some asshole sneaks it in on you.

The other day I was talking about shitty music nowadays and a friend listed about 10 albums that had just came out, and I didn't know about any of them. If he were Muslim he would have melted into molten dick-sauce upon hearing such nerve.

-Napalm out.

Selda Bağcan

2010-08-24T15:10:00.000-07:00

Sorry for not posting as often. I'm occupied by settling into a new house on top of all my other normal life things, so naturally my blog will take a toll.

Apparently I've never posted anything about Selda on my blog. Well, I think at this point in time it's no secret I have a thing for Turkish culture, so have some o' diz:

I Hate Mexicans

2010-08-18T12:11:00.000-07:00

In a previous post I said that the only groups of people I didn't completely hate were Hispanics and Mediterraneans. Well, upon further introspection it would appear that I lied. On the whole, I hate everyone. But I really fucking hate Mexicans.

For one, most Mexicans are Catholic. And the ones who aren't are more often than not Jehovah's Witnesses. They stink most of the time, make food that's supposed to give you diarrhea (even if you cook it properly), and are corroding our national culture like water on iron. This is mostly due to the obvious language barrier, but I think a lot of people are ignoring the more than obvious tendency Hispanics have in a life of crime, more specifically gang related violent crime. If it isn't motivated by the fragile status of "la raza" in the US against other races, its motivated by another Mexican wearing red instead of blue, or being from Salinas instead of East LA.

Most young Chicanos don't have a proper command of Spanish, much less English. In understand that languages naturally evolve by how people use them, and that a lot of this could be called "devolution", but there has to be a line drawn somewhere. By oversimplifying your vocabulary and syntax you simplify your message; when all messages are simple the world deteriorates into a ball of moronic shit.

Personally, I think the USA should use Spanish the way Canada uses French. We know where most of the Spanish speakers are, and let's not delude ourselves, it's here to stay. You could deport every single illegal immigrant and the Spanish language would still be strong in California, Arizona, New Mexico, Colorado, and Texas, aka "used to dun be Mexico". I think more English speakers should learn Spanish and more Spanish speakers should learn English.

However, what I think about the situation doesn't change the fact that the language barrier is probably the most frustrating thing every day Americans have to deal with. I understand quite a deal of Spanish, but actually speaking it is difficult for me; not because I can't pronounce it, but because I'm still in the stage where I have to translate in my head. I've never dreamt in Spanish. I feel uncomfortable when I have to have wetback A translate for wetback B.

Oh, I almost forgot. Something that stems from their Catholicism is their need to have several annoying ugly children. As if the fact that a bunch of brown smelly retarded midgets wasn't bad enough, these brats are second generation Americans and still can't fucking speak English. I can understand "keeping the culture alive" but when it limits your child's social adaptability there is something seriously fucked up going on.

Having said all of that shit, which even I'm not sure if I completely agree with, I think Machete is going to be awesome. Danny Trejo is epic win, and whoever denies this deserves to be shot by a long legged pissed off Puerto Rican. And most Puerto Ricans are happy as fuck. Do you realize the shit you just brought down on yourself, holmes?

I'M BAAAAACK!!!!

2010-08-14T00:02:00.000-07:00

Did ya miss me?

Bullshit, I know that look.

New posts coming soon. In case you haven't already, buy this shit: Valhalla

THIS UPDATE IS IMPORTANT

2010-08-09T23:46:00.000-07:00

You might have noticed my empty post. That's what happens when I try to use blogger on my phone. Anyways. I was doing that because I'm having severe computer issues. And me being a semi-technological retard isn't helping. I know what's wrong, but I only know about halfway how to fix it, so I will most likely not be posting here until my computer is completely fine again, and that time remains to be seen.

I hope y'all understand.

See ya soon,

Nick.

Get Back in the Kitchen

2010-08-04T22:26:00.000-07:00

Time for some good ol' wholesome Southern-fried sexism.

This post is inspired by the wonders of Facebook. One of the creepiest things about that site is all the chicks I knew in high school who are now mothers. Makes me feel old. Then I realize I'm only 20 and then feel disgusted. I mean, my dad was around my age when I was born, but he's my dad, not my peer by any means.
Even more disgusting than having kids at the age of 20 (or even 25, for that matter) is saying shit like "I'm a full time mom" or "between my and my husband I have the harder job" (referring to being a mom). Get a fucking job, and send your kid to daycare. Some of these women actually had jobs before they got knocked up, and went on an extended maternity leave. Now they don't even give blow jobs. They are essentially worthless. Furthermore, their offspring are going to grow up thinking that this is OK.

I guess this wouldn't be so bad if it was the 1950's or something and at least the bitches were preparing food over a hot stove all day. But they aren't. It's like the worst of feminism and laziness morphed into one disgusting bloated hunk of flesh, with a pint sized retard attached to them at all times.

Personally, I don't like babies. I don't really care for children either. Most kids don't even develop a personality until they're six, and then it mostly consists of bullshit lies and pipe-dreams fed to them by their overactive imaginations. But this attitude doesn't mean I'm anti-child or anti-breeding, or whatever that long ass word to describe pro-extinctionism was. I just wish that both parents were a little more sensible about how they raise their goddamn kids. For the record, I don't advocate a super-polished, coddle-your-children type parenting. My mom smoked when I was in her womb, and continued to do so around me until I was at least 17, when she "quit". My dad was a lazy Star Trek nerd who spent most of his time writing shitty articles for Air Force publications and video-taping Xena. When I fucked up, I was yelled at, spanked, and told that what I did was wrong, and made to feel guilty for it. Despite being an obvious introvert my parents forced me into playing soccer. But they never once took me to church. And I turned out just fine.

But now kids are always next to mommy and her new-age bullshit neuro water. Mommy doesn't work because if she doesn't spend all the time in her day with little Susie or little Johnny they'll grow up to be like those bad Goth kids in high school. When Susie starts to draw a picture with her left hand mommy slaps the crayon out and corrects her; only heathen children write left handed. And every night they all gather 'round the dinner table to watch some shitty Will Ferrell movie and eat hungry man. How else would expect the little bastards to grow up to be strong?

It's a fucking disaster waiting to happen.

Get a job, or get back in the kitchen.

VALHALLA

2010-08-04T19:41:00.000-07:00

Buy Valhalla on Lulu.

Ari Bach on deviantArt.

Remember Delta? Yeah, that one guy I interviewed sometime either late 2009 or early 2010. I really don't know, because my memory is horrible.

Well, if you don't, here's the interview I was referring to: http://napalmbpowder.blogspot.com/2010/02/interview-delta.html

He now has an amazing novel out. Buy it.

If you like science-fiction, this is a must read. If you like action, this is a must read. If you enjoy living, this is a must read.

Seriously, this time it's not some empty half-comical threat. It's for real. If you don't buy his book he's going to track you down and strangle you with the copy of Mother Goose his mommy never read to him while reciting lines from Mein Kampf. Just kidding. Maybe.

Oh by the way, if you go to his dA page beware of the horrible automatic video ads. I hate those things. As I was typing this entry, with his dA in another tab, one came on and scared the living fuck out of me.

Like my line breaks? Yeah, blame my inadequacy concerning type formatting with juxtaposed images. Nigggots.

Get Your Heads Out of Your Asses

2010-08-03T22:34:00.000-07:00

I'd like to take a moment to quickly talk about something that has been bugging me for a while now. I'm no fan of Islam, and don't want it to become any stronger here in the West, but Islam in its native lands is no threat to the Western world. Anyone who tells you that the troops are fighting for our freedom is lying to you and deluding themselves. Same thing with the catchphrase "they hate us for our freedom". They don't give a fuck about your freedom.

The situations in the UK, and the rest of Europe are entirely different than the situations in Iraq and Afghanistan. Anyone who can't take a moment of their time to think about this and realize the truth behind it are either incredibly dense or incredibly in denial.

I love my country. I think that 9/11 was bad. But I also know that it was American boots on Muslim soil (Saudi Arabia, namely) that triggered anti-American sentiments in the first place which would lead to the attacks.

Pride is one thing, but there is also counter-productive pride. When a nation is so preoccupied by empty revenge* and brimming with pride it cannot look past the blinders to assess its situation. We have already spent too much blood and money on half-assed, ill-planned wars.

*I say empty here because last time I checked the target was Osama bin Laden. And yet he's almost never brought up anymore. Chances are he left Afghanistan years ago.

Update #9,001

2010-07-30T14:24:00.000-07:00

Yes, I used that lame over-used meme in my post title. Deal with it.

This past week I spent a lot of time working my ass off at my actual work, and that's why I haven't posted anything here. As usual, my real life experiences have given me ideas, and I've jotted them down for expansion. Here's a list of things I have in the works: writing/recording a full length album, writing a Star Trek based horror/comedy story, and writing a full-length scifi novel. In that order. Granted, I could probably do all three at the same time, and it would probably make for some interesting parallels, but if I don't give myself some structure it's going to all end up being a mess and I'm going to hate it. I don't enjoy hating my work.

Aside from that I have something new planned for this blog very soon. Next week I have a few days off and I will either be putting it together or posting the final draft here. Depends how my weekend goes.

See you soon,

Napalm out.

BUY MY SHIT BEFORE I DIE

2010-07-21T16:28:00.000-07:00

Yesterday as I was sorting through all of my useless shit I came upon a few gems. First off, I found my old NES. I still know where some of the games are, but the cables and controllers are nowhere to be found; it probably needs a thorough cleaning anyways. I also found my graphic design folder from my junior year of high school. Of course the one thing I wanted to see the most (my awesome energy drink can design) was missing. Then there was a really strange blast from the past. Ten unopened cans of Pepsi, Diet Pepsi, and Mountain Dew. But not just any unopened cans. No. Unopened promotional cans for Star Wars Episode I. From 199-fucking-9.

Now this isn't a complete set, and they are far from mint condition, but I'm pretty sure some dumb fuck on eBay would buy them up in a second for whatever price I set it at. But really, who the fuck would want to buy a bunch of nasty cans from 1999? You can't drink them (well, you could, but you'd probably die immediately after) and most of the pictures are of people and things so horrendously ugly and from a movie that is hated more now than Bill Clinton was then. And don't say "I know a guy who would love to have those" because yes, I know. People are retarded. If someone will buy a booger they will buy my cans. They want to have my cans all in their face. Don't you like my cans?

My real point is that my sentimental value towards these dumb things far outweighs the $300 I'd charge for each of them. And that's what all value really is, sentimental. I know that some bloated economist can ramble on about why the dollar sucks ass more and more and why the Russians and Chinese are already lubing up their rape-sticks but here's the rub: he's wrong. So are the Russians and Chinese. They're going to get their ass, don't worry, but they're wrong too. The only reason anything has any value ever is because we say it does.

Now granted it just so happens there are enough people to agree that money has value to forever enslave me with it, but that wasn't my choice. I don't believe for a second that a piece of "paper" with ink on it and a few metal coins is somehow equivalent to the sweet nectar of Coca-Cola. Furthermore I don't believe our government has jack shit to back it up. While I'm on the subject of our government and money I'd like to take this opportunity to say this: Fuck the Federal Reserve. But it doesn't matter that I don't buy into their standards of value. Because I can still take advantage of them. I hate change, can't wait to get rid of it; you have it, give me some shit to drink in exchange.

Even human life is ascribed arbitrary value. I guarantee you that cockroaches don't give a shit about any of us. And does anyone honestly believe that because we're bigger that we must be of the right opinion? There are more cockroaches. And they have the word cock in their name. Anyone who justifies human existence via some "greater power" smiling down upon us needs to join Ted Hagart and Kent Hovind in a jail cell. And preferably they'd murder each other in a fight who was more of a meth whore.

I don't fear death. I think dying will probably suck, but I don't really care afterwards. Like, at all. Death is a piece of shit, but it's also the only inevitable piece of shit any of us have to deal with. You now regret dealing with other pieces of shit. You know what I think about when it comes to death? I wonder if whether or not I'll have a beard when I die. Or if I'll be wearing shoes. Or if I'll die in the middle of jacking off.

A lot of people say they want to "go out with a bang". Naturally the first thing I think of is being shot out of a cannon, because that would rock. Get it? Out with a bang?

I crack myself up.

Oppression = Donkey Sex

2010-07-18T00:37:00.000-07:00

http://www.news.com.au/technology/pakistan-no1-in-the-world-in-pornographic-internet-searches/story-e6frfro0-1225891491204

It's like a mom who forbids her children junk food. What do they do? Get the double sludge-pounder at McFatAss King. Mostly out of curiosity. People like being naughty. Some people like being naughty so much that they let a horse fuck them in the ass and later die because all their internal organs have been rearranged by a four foot penis. And not only does oppression itself lead to deviant behavior, but also protest against oppression.

Allow me to explain.

Draw Muhammed Day. Smashing fucking success. The bitch who started it bitched out, but it still got the point across: Muslims worship a pedophile who liked to reenact "Death By Horse Cock" with a camel. A bunch of Muslims got pissed, but no one got more pissed than Pakistan. Pakistan then declared that the internet was illegal, and that's when all the searching for animal sex started.

Oppression + Protest = More oppression = Donkey sex.

By the way, if you want to hear my band's rap "The M. Night" you can do that at our MySpace page here.

I'm Using the Internet

2010-07-17T07:15:00.000-07:00

Lately I've been in one hell of a shit mood. At the moment there are two things taking my focus: my work (which I don't talk about online) and my music (which is OK to talk about, but is almost as frustrating at times). On top of that there's some more personal shit, but I don't want to give anyone the wrong impression like someone's dying. Nobody's dying. Well, lots of people are dying, but no one I care about. However sometimes my mood influences the things I create, which definitely applies to this blog.

As I'm sure you're all aware, most people are retarded. Not Down's Syndrome retarded where they actually have an excuse, but just "I'm an amazing under-achiever who's really dumb" retarded. Most people learn to use their retardedness as a weapon against others, causing most of the shit we all have to sleep in as a result. Religion is a tired old example, so for now I'll use drugs. People know drugs are illegal, and yet they still use and traffic them on a daily basis. A lot of the money goes straight into the pockets of gangs, who basically exist solely to fuck shit up for no better reason than to fuck shit up. Then there's the actual users. Try telling a crack head that he can't have anymore crack. The motherfucker will go on a rampage involving your brutal murder and he will steal everything shiny on your person conveniently forgetting that dollar bills aren't shiny right before mugging a fire hydrant for water. Then the police are called to the scene, where the crack head is glaring at everyone and quoting A Clockwork Orange. After an awkward silence he stares profoundly into the distance. He then snaps into action, throws off his clothes and stampedes towards one of the cops, who shoots him in the chest and drops him like a sack of potatoes. Do you have any idea how much bullets cost nowadays?

And then there are dumb people who do absolutely no harm to anyone else. Do you think my opinion of them has changed? No. It hasn't.

The group of stoner kids who rot away their brain cells into oblivion are lesser on the totem pole of shit than a crack head, but that doesn't mean they get a free pass. Sure, I could man up and admit that they aren't doing any harm, seeing as how they get all their weed from the plants growing in Pedro's closet, but that isn't nearly as fun as calling them on their retardedness.

It is literally the same thing as calling someone retarded for liking Nickelback. Or for giving a bad review of Watchmen. Someone does something you don't like, you call them retarded. In reality, even if what they are doing negatively affects them, it doesn't affect you. So why do you react? Because it's fun.

It's fun to hate. I happen to hate stupidity. Some people might disagree with some of the things I find stupid. They might even think that I'm stupid for thinking those things are stupid. Sometimes in order to properly assert yourself as a macho individual you have to state your stupid opinion of why something is stupid in front of all your stupid friends who vehemently disagree with you about the stupid status of said stupid thing. It's how shit works.

My personal theory is that all of this is the inherent violence in the universe peeking out through the urethra of mankind. And no, by universe I don't mean some kind of cosmic intelligence. I mean that everything in the universe (including itself, theoretically) comes into being, exists, and ends in a violent fashion.

To sum up this post, I have provided the following image.

This Post is Gay

2010-07-13T00:50:00.000-07:00

Most of my personal viewpoints stem from pure, lazy apathy. This applies to human sexuality. Thankfully our society is shifting in this direction more and more as time goes on, but every now and then this subject comes up, and I feel compelled to throw in my two cents. As long as an act remains between consenting adults, I really can't think of any reason to say that it's "wrong". Before we get to all of my boring and fucked up opinions first let's hand the mic over to Satan. I always like what he has to say.

I'm not about to deny that unwanted children and some of the freakiest diseases we've ever encountered aren't valid sexual deterrents. Which is why most of the time I opt for my hand. The difference between my hand and other people's holes is I know exactly every single disgusting place it's been. Also, if I'm not mistaken it can't get pregnant. Or maybe I'm just sterile. Not really sure. Maybe I should open up a Yahoo! Answers account.

Another factor that's probably involved in my acceptance of all sorts of deviant sexual behavior is my complete and utter lack of taste. Most people cringe when I tell them what kinds of food I like to eat, and don't even get me started on all my non-sequitur conflicting music choices. Unless you're covered in menstrual blood and are incurably ugly I'll most likely be able to find something attractive about you. The only thing that keeps me from bending over some MILF in the bathroom is that both she and her children are annoying as fuck. But I'll never understand what the ladies are talking about with Brad Pitt.

A lot of the non-religious reasons for people's sexual hang ups are usually do to some weird mixture of resentment and inferiority complexes. These usually end up morphing themselves into even weirder fetishes. I know this from personal experience, and while I do understand that spilling the beans on matters such as these can be tasty in-and-of-themselves, I'm not about to do that. If you are into that sort of thing, or just like like good writing from kinky Texan women, please visit Harlot's Confessions and give the girl some nice comments.

I'd also like to thank MD Roche for inspiring this post, and now I'll finally link you to his blog, Black Transmissions. Sorry for not doing it earlier.

The more I think of it, this was probably just an excuse to post that video.

BAND ART

2010-07-09T23:16:00.000-07:00

My band Phic is so damn cool we have our own artist. His name is Ari Bach, and he is featured in my link list. I am a huge fan, and this specific piece is for a collection of live tracks recorded at Johnny's Bar and Grill in Lompoc, California. It is difficult for me to describe the sheer joy this image brings me. It solidifies something I've been yearning for so long.

So I Heard You Like Unicorns

2010-07-07T23:31:00.001-07:00

This is probably the most disturbing music video I've ever seen.

The M. Night

2010-07-05T00:15:00.000-07:00

I had a pretty fun Fourth. I spent most of the day hanging out with my band members, and when we weren't watching the fireworks or singing "America (Fuck Yeah!)" we were making jokes about director M. Night Shyamalan. Turns out we had a spark of creative genius, and in less than a thirty minute period wrote and recorded a legitimate rap song called "The M. Night". I was beat box, my guitarist was the MC, and my bassist/vocalist was the hype man. It rocks. As soon as we get the piece of shit on MySpace I'll definitely link you. Basically it's the most vulgar parody of his movies ever created. I'd post lyrics, but I can only remember half of them, and they're so awesome I know one of you dick heads would steal it.

Thought you'd like to know.

Morality (Kinda)

2010-07-04T02:02:00.000-07:00

Video I will reference: http://blip.tv/file/3825518

Little bit of background info: this post was around three days in the making, and I intended on making it the day I saw this video. Didn't happen for several reasons, one being the video is really fucking long and I want to make as many points possible. As for the "author" of the video I have a few things to say. I also realize anything I say about him does not affect the effectiveness of my argument. For starters, he has difficulty understanding the difference between "affect" and "effect". In my view this is something only retards and third graders should have a problem with. As a fellow atheist I really don't care, as that term describes so little of one's personality. Usually when I think of dumb liberals he comes to mind. He's the kind of guy who watches Transformers 2 and calls it racist. Now, as horrible as that movie was, to call it racist is at the very least a stretch and at most chronic moronism. Moreover he's a fat-ass who blames his obesity on genetics and refuses to do anything about it. If that doesn't sicken you then you'd probably sicken me. I'm still subscribed to him on YouTube for one reason and one reason alone: he makes me laugh. But most of the time it isn't when he's trying to be funny.

Again, I realize ad-hominem attacks do not help my argument, but that was fun.

I more or less agree with his idea that all a moral is is a measurement of behavior. I also agree that religious moralism is lazy moralism. His accusation that Dawkins' explanation of morality is lacking would seem to be sound at first, but really if Dawkins was asked about the darker parts of morality I'm sure his answer would be similar to mine, and that he merely hasn't had the interest to address it: Almost all of our aggressive morality is based on the us versus them paradigm; this usually is most obvious in some kind of war, be it between nations, clans, or tribes. Within a group individuals form identity, and part of that identity is protecting the group from harm. These feelings are so strong that people will (and have many times in the past) kill for them. While I essentially see altruism as a myth, this behavior, while harming others, could still be explained as an altruistic act of protection. Sometimes it is enacted not in protection of people, but of their culture. Such was the case in Nazi Germany, and even though the dynamics of the conflict were a little more complex, it still applies. You could also say many Americans, of various political stripes, feel this way about American culture. While I'm at it, Happy Independence Day.

His assessment of Timothy McVeigh is interesting coming from him, and I more or less agree with it. His claim that Dawkins cannot explain the results of Waco and Oklahoma City are asinine when you take my explanation into account. If anyone is willing to prove me otherwise I'm all ears, but it seems a logical enough conclusion to me. Furthermore, and the subject of punishment in moral constructs: punishment is a form of reinforcement. It is meant to extinguish moral deviance; this does not mean that punishment can be limited to one moral sphere. In each moral perspective, punishment must be served otherwise the interests of the morals are null, regardless if others do not subscribe to them. Again, this can in fact be chalked up to "altruism".

I do agree that morality is a form of controlling human behavior. Come to think of it, if it's not already in the definition, it should be. He again makes the claim that evolutionary explanations of morality are insufficient, as they do not and cannot explain the full range of human morality. He is of course referring to our "grimier" morals. He uses the examples of Sparta and Hindu culture. He says that kindness was considered wrong in Sparta. This largely depends on how you define "kind". Weakness was definitely considered wrong, as Sparta was a land of war, and wars are only one by those strong enough to survive. If we survive, then we can buy time to love each other. Survival has proven time and time again to be our strongest instinct, and procreation is a close second. But you can't make babies if you're dead. The Hindu morality is religious in nature, and because it is believed that one gains more dharma by being loyal to their caste, this does in fact coincide with evolutionary theories of "altruism". Basically, no matter what is perceived as good, people do it because either a) it will help themselves and their group, or b) it is perceived that it will help themselves and their group. Nobody does anything if they sincerely believe it will negatively affect them. Masochism and suicide are not valid counter-points, as people who do such things see them positively. The fact that he couldn't figure this out makes me kick myself for over-estimating his intelligence.

His comments on the hierarchical and social nature of bacteria is rather ironic, because in fact these comments reinforce evolutionary theories on such matters. Single celled organisms contain the most genetic information, and evolution is the process that genetic information is carried on and changes. So it actually makes sense that bacteria would display similar social behavior with other life forms.

He obviously starts to build upon an idea that somehow hierarchy is unnecessary for humans. I do still agree with him that morality has everything to do with reinforcing hierarchical norms and expectations. To say that these hierarchical standards are arbitrary does have a nice nihilistic poeticism about it, but in reality they are far from arbitrary: these standards reinforce hierarchy, and are implemented to reinforce survival, the highest law of all living creatures.

He then uses an excerpt from a Sam Harris speech at TED talk. In it, Mr. Harris suggests that not all moral codes are equal, and uses the example of the Taliban and physics. Physics exists regardless of who recognizes it, but the only people who will benefit from its knowledge are those who wish to learn it; in this case Mr. Harris is dead on, and brings about a subject the video's author is very uncomfortable with: inequality. Where he makes an epic fail is when he suggests that Sam Harris is searching for objective morality. He is of course using the term "objective morality" in the colloquial sense, that being the kind most often found in religions, who have norms and laws concerning things like diet, sexuality, aesthetics, etc. In my opinion what Harris suggests is far from this; what he suggests is that we can find the best ways to survive. After all, that is our prime interest. Morality, and by extension the hierarchies that enforce morality exist to insure the survival of both the group and the individuals in that group. The way I see it, this "perfect morality" could be read as such: "If it doesn't harm the group or other individuals in the group, we don't care; try and do your part". But of course to read that into Harris speech would take a few minutes, and poor ol' TJ has to save all the time he can for making videos.

He then goes on to make a Braveheart-esque speech, implying that freedom cannot exist within hierarchies, and makes a few obvious references to homosexuality and other "deviant" lifestyles. He makes a call to end compliance, and for what he calls the "anarchy of the soul".

Now, here's my personal take on all of this. It will never happen, could never happen, and wouldn't be fun in the twist-around hypothetical if-it-did-happen scenario. Most people are too stupid to pronounce words in their own language let alone comprehend the difference between an argument and a quarrel. Most people have no real interest in science and only reproduce because it's hardwired into their brains and their culture. Most people give the word "individual" a bad name, and serve nearly the same purpose as bacteria anyways. TJ says "we are thinking beings"; maybe you are, TJ, but not everyone. Essentially his rant was nothing more than a weak argument for egalitarian hippie shit.

I think you all know how I feel about that by now.

When I Come Around

2010-07-02T01:01:00.000-07:00

Preparing actual content. Have this for the time being.

My Band's First Show

2010-07-01T02:00:00.000-07:00

Here's that show I was talkin' about in previous posts. Enjoy.

You Need to Smile More Often

2010-06-30T08:40:00.000-07:00

Last night I got to play my drums on a stage for the first time in my life. It was pretty fun. What was supposed to be a full show with us opening for one of our town's most famous bands (who've toured to such far-away forbidden lands as the state of Colorado) turned out to be a missed phone call for us and everyone else getting the message that the bar's "talent scout" was nowhere to be found. I was confused when no-one at the bar seemed alarmed by this; apparently it's a common occurrence. Apparently you just can't put on a show if the lazy motherfucker won't make it to his own bar, so aside from normal staff and a few drunk chicks we were the only ones there. Seriously, drunk at seven pm? After getting hit on by drunk chick #1 who swore up and down that "My sister can play the bass-fiddle, y'all should come over!" the owner invited us inside to just start playing whenever we felt like it. I had already set up my drums outside underneath an awning of theirs, and now it was just a simple matter of lugging them up the terrifying 1 foot high stage.

This is when we realized that they didn't have a house PA system. That right there is enough to make the cheapest band in India shit bricks. NO FUCKING HOUSE PA. What. The FUCK?!

They had speakers, but they were hooked up to their jukebox, and there was no way to safely get into the electronics. This involved my bassist calling up one of his friends and asking to borrow his PA. When it arrived and we got it set up, we realized we were also going to need a mic stand. So we left our bassist with all of our equipment and drove three blocks down to his house to retrieve one. After getting everything in place, we switched it all on and begun our 20 minute set. Why 20 minutes, you ask? Well, because that's all we practiced. The rest of our "show" was BS'ing and half-assing through songs, including me singing one because apparently I was the only one of us who "knew all the lyrics". About that.

I think throughout the whole night we maybe had twenty people in our audience. Doesn't really matter, I still had fun. But one thing that kept happening that night, combined with an earlier experience in the day, made me think about something I've been told all my life. "You need to smile more often."

It is very rare I smile, especially in public and around strangers. It just doesn't come naturally to me. Of course there had to be the one dick head who just had to point it out to everyone else. "Hey, what'd you say you're name was? Nick? Hehe, you don't smile much do ya, huh?" When people say things like this it occurs to me that smiling often is probably normal. Which seems absurd to me. When I smile it's because I like what's happening enough to show it. The fact that people go around showing their teeth as matter of "courtesy" when it's supposed to mean that you're happy seems very deceitful and rude to me. I guess it's one of the great ironies of Western society. Then of course there's the Filipino gal at work who smiles when she's nervous.

Most of the time there isn't much reason to smile anyways. Most of the time things are just "meh". And of course you always want to be careful just how much you show what you're thinking on the inside. Come to think of it, that's pretty much it: I wear a perpetual poker face. I suppose what I don't like the most about people noticing my lack-of-smile is their assumption that I must be in a bad mood.

Even when I'm happy as can be I'm slow to go out singing from the rooftops. That's what smiling is like to me. It's letting others know my private emotional information. Call it a vulnerability complex, or whatever, but I've been this way since birth.

Individuality vs. Conformity

2010-06-27T18:37:00.000-07:00

There's a lot of fuss about the differences between individuality and conformity. In a very strict sense, we are all individuals as well as conformists. By this strict sense I am referring to biology; each person in apart from one another, and yet they all have a number of things in common such as species, functioning vital organs, etc.

But what people are really fussing about doesn't have too much to do with biology, at least not on a superficial level. It usually boils down to things like clothing, politics, sexuality, and indoctrination. When you have six billion other people on the planet, it is hard to consider yourself a true individual in any sense. Our species has always been based around the tribe; without help from our fellow humans we would perish. We reproduce sexually, which means that if the number of people not reproducing is more than the number reproducing our species is effectively extinct in the time of one generation. Every accomplishment a human comes up with today is piggybacking off of a dead guy's accomplishments. This applies to science, art, and politics. I think it's important to note that those are three entirely separate things. It might seem they have some similarities, but they are illusory. Logic would seem to be the binding force behind all three, but politicians wouldn't know logic if Muhammed al-Bin shitface Marabi snuck it inside their $300 lunch bin.

All human individuality really is is one guy trying to do the same thing in a different way. Painting the black door pink, and fooling everyone else that it's actually lightish red. You'll notice companies are the pioneers in this charade, and don't think you're any different because you don't own a chain of stores or drive a Mercedes. Homogeneity is in your blood, and there is no escape.

All your dreams are dead.

ME!!!

2010-06-26T02:57:00.000-07:00

It occurs to me that not too many people here actually know what I look like. My "photo" in the profile portion of this blog is not a good example. So here's one of me wearing some rad shutter shades (which I like) and mimicking Andy Warhol at the same time (who I do not like).

Beware, massive file is massive.

Demon I Am and Face I Peel

2010-06-24T02:30:00.000-07:00

Something just reminded me of this song. I remember hearing it for the first time in a cramped dorm room, and about five minutes before I got a skateboard whacked across the top of my head. Don't worry, I was wearing a combat helmet. Still hurt though.

I really like how the Misfits manage to make the most morbid subject matter sound like love songs. Now that you've listened, re-listen while reading the lyrics:

The corpses all hang
Headless and limp
Bodies with no surprises
And the blood drains down like devils rain
We'll bathe tonight

I want your skulls
I need your skulls
I want your skulls
I need your skulls

Demon I am and face I peel
To see your skin turned inside out, 'cause
Gotta have you on my wall
Gotta have you on my wall, 'cause

I want your skulls
I need your skulls
I want your skulls
I need your skulls

Collect the heads of little girls and
Put 'em on my wall
Hack the heads off little girls and
Put 'em on my wall

I want your skulls
I need your skulls
I want your skulls
I need your skulls
I want your skulls
I need your skulls
I want your skulls
I need your skulls

REVIEW: Get Him to the Greek

2010-06-23T00:36:00.000-07:00

So today was weird. For the most part it sucked. I was doing small errands most of the morning and early afternoon, which included tearing down my drum kit to be packed up for my band's first show. Well, apparently music can't happen when people get fired, so the gig was postponed 'til next week. To say I was balls livid would be a gross understatement. The first thing I did upon hearing the bad news was rip off my dirty underwear and strangle my copy of Dune with them. My testicles regret this move, but seeing as how I already promised them a night with Megan Fox I think they'll be fine.

So to blow of steam I decided to hang out with the wickedest girl in my life and my bandmate Charlie, who's an awesome black guy who plays bass for us. The funny part is he offered to play bass. First we hit up the local taco bell, and I indulged in more self pain by eating a volcano burrito. Just joking, those things are all talk and no mouth rape. But my asshole pleads otherwise. Mild going in, Deliverance going out.

After my Amero-Mexi-Bastard excursion I decided I'd like a good laugh, and would try out the new movie Get Him to the Greek. This movie is fucking nuts. I haven't laughed this hard since I saw an Armenian scream for justice at the UN. If you're a fan of rock'n'roll and all its endless funny-business do yourself a favor and see this movie.

Cuz if you ain't you must be Jeffrey.

Napalm out with five out of five ghoughpteighbteaus.

The Answers to Your Questions

2010-06-18T21:30:00.000-07:00

False Prophet asked: What are your musical ambitions? How far would you like to go as a drummer/musician? Is music even relevant to your professional ambitions or do you have something else in mind all together?

My ideal goal is to have a steady career apart from music entirely, but one that would allow me enough time to make music (and money from that) on the side. Many people nowadays do just that. Despite things like my blog, and twitter, I don't really have any desire to be famous. It would seem that making music my career would inevitably do that; not necessarily Van Halen fame mind you, but I wouldn't want to be picking up dinner and have someone bug me saying things like “Oh, you're that guy from that one band!”, etc.

I don't have a problem with people liking what I do, in fact it's both reassuring and inspiring. I can think of quite a few musicians who are more or less “famous” in their particular circles, but they don't stick out in a crowd, and can safely walk about the world unpestered. I think if I could achieve a similar status that would be pretty cool.

As far as music itself, I'm always willing to learn. Each time I sit down I challenge myself to do things differently than the way I did it before. For example, I wanted to shift my style of playing from the more popular rock/pop styles and start off with more Latin influenced music. This lead me to study the roots of this musical style, which goes to places like West Africa and the Mediterranean. When I combine this with a bassist and guitarist who've been studying separate tangents, it comes together as something very unique. Whether or not it sounds good is ultimately up to taste, but I don't want to ever be accused of not doing my homework when it comes to applying objective principles.

Also, a project I might undergo would be a death metal band; that kind of music is what I originally wanted to start playing after I got out of a brief stint in a punk band. The guy who does my current band's recording is the lead guitarist for a local hardcore band, so he would probably be more than capable to provide the guitar and bass for such a project. I'm pretty proficient at playing death metal style drums; as I said I originally wanted to start making that kind of music, so I trained myself in it for a significant portion of time. I even learned how to “sing” in a couple of those vocal styles. What I'd like to do for lyrics is basically the traditional horror themes, but with a scifi and humorous twist. Most metal is lacking in the humor department, and oftentimes the addition of humor greatly increases its likability. Metalocalypse is a pretty good example of this. My main goal would be something like a musical version of Creepshow or Zombies of the Stratosphere, which incidentally is Leonard Nimoy's first film.

In regards to movies, have you ever considered trying to direct something? Do you have any scripts in the works?

I'd love to be involved in film. To be honest, I've not had any training in it, so if I was magically put in the director's chair I wouldn't have a clue as to what to do aside from what I've heard on DVD extras. But that kind of goes back to what I said about music, I'm always willing to learn. I think one of the easiest ways I could get myself into the world of film would be through writing scripts. I am in the process of writing something that could be turned into a script, but for the time being that is not its purpose.

Most of the ideas I've had have been science fiction, and would practically demand gigantic budgets to properly create. But if I sit down and write out my ideas I'm sure I could come up with something that would be cheap to film, but still enjoyable. My ideas on fame in music still apply here; I really wouldn't be comfortable as some huge actor or director. If in the unlikely event that I get involved in Hollywood's stuff, the most I'll shoot for is as a writer.

If money and manpower were no object and you could do anything, what would be your ideal creative project or vision (from any type of creative project including music, movies or anything else)? Could you see yourself doing anything Star Trek related or inspired?

Well, the first thing I'd do is release my band's EP and debut full-length. It's been such a wait, and if I had the resources They'd both be out by now. This would free up time for working on the next musical project. I'd also like to try my hand at a solo musical project. I'm not much of a guitarist, so it would probably be computer based in nature. Noise albums seem to be popular, but that wouldn't stop me from making one. How I'd approach one is to leave the sampling relatively light, and go out and record fresh original sounds and then manipulate them with a computer.

Another thing I'd like to do is start photographing again. In high school I had a camera, plenty of film, and a darkroom to my disposal, and ever since graduating I've felt creatively stunted in that department. Sure, digital is better than nothing, but working in a darkroom with a bunch of smelly chemicals and a bulky enlarger is nothing short of magic. You know, if photoshop is the tool preferred by Harry Potter, the darkroom is the tool preferred by Merlin! I wouldn't want to limit myself to black and white, but I have to say that I appreciate the mystery it holds. Night pictures are especially beautiful to me, and photography was one of the few things that put a positive perspective on the world for me.

As far as Star Trek is concerned, I first have to point out just how big it is in my life. Some of my fondest childhood memories have to do with Star Trek: The Next Generation. My dad started watching the show when it first aired in 1987, and he pretty much indoctrinated me into becoming a Trekkie. Now, if that meant being anything like a Catholic (which he was at one point) then I'd resent him forever. But fortunately it has nothing to do with any of that, with the minor exception being Futurama's right and soon all of us will form the Church of Star Trek. All power to the engines!

We would later watch Deep Space Nine and Voyager, and along the way we collected all kinds of merch, but mostly toys. A lot of the Star Trek video games were interesting enough, but paled in comparison to Super Mario World. I still have an original NES cartridge of an original series based game, and before he asks, no, you can't have it, Joel.

Speaking of the original series, and beginnings, that's where my current fascination (hehe) began. When I first moved to California I didn't have many movies, so I spent most of time watching recorded VHS tapes of things like Con Air and The Craft, complete with cheesy 90's TV commercials. Turned out that the orignal six Star Trek movies were the only tapes I had that were commercial free, so I watched those. At this point in time I was a young teen, and I immediately sympathized with the character of Mr. Spock. He was a weirdo, both on his home planet and on Earth. He found refuge in this Starfleet, and even there he was different in ways that often conflicted with his fellow officers opinions and viewpoints. Furthermore, as someone who's always been a stoic introvert, I started to emulate the Vulcan pseudophilosophy of logic and IDIC (infinite diversity in infinite combinations). I've always found “live long, and prosper” to be infinitely more useful than “may the force be with you”. It's a nice thing to say, and it actually makes sense. All that was left for me to do was to grow pointed ears and get greenish skin tone.

Star Trek is one of the few very positive things that I thoroughly enjoy. It inspires a kind of hope that might be outlandish, but is at the end of the day grounded in realistic things: using our knowledge of science to make ourselves better. Nothing like the empty promises of religion that are grounded in metaphysics and, well who knows what half that crap is anyways.

Having said all of that, it would rock my world if I could be involved in anything Star Trek. If Paramount called me asking me to write for them, I can tell you my reaction would be full of foolish human emotionalism and illogic. My hopes is that with the new movies, Paramount starts a new show. I have written many personal fan-fictions, and while I was going to keep it a secret, the writing project I'm currently working on is Star Trek based.

Damn Turk asked: What does your O-face look like comrade?

Well, unfortunately I've never o-faced in the presence of a mirror, so I couldn't tell you. Judging by the way my face feels, and comparing it to different faces I make, I'm going to guess it looks somewhat similar to my “oh God my anus is bleeding!” face.

Roche asked: 1. Why are you so infatuated with Captain Spock?

2. How old were you when you first readThe Satanic Bible?

3. Is there an interesting story behind the origins of your alias, "Napalm Nick"?

4. Is California as shitty as I assume it is?

5. What's your favorite porn site?

6. If you could be any animal (besides human) what would you be?

I sort of answered this in False Prophet's question, but I'll go over it again in case I missed something. It's a good question, seeing as how I like to use his image for avatars and whatnot. As an awkward, introverted teenager I sympathized with the character, and further after hearing interviews with Leonard Nimoy addressing the “Spock affect” on certain teens, solidified my (cough) feelings on the matter. Like Spock, I do have emotions, but I don't open up very easy, and usually get my “humanisms” out through humor. More serious emotions like love and hate I reserve for very few people, and I only really show it to them in person. Secondly, I just dig the way he looks. Pointed ears, greenish skin, upswept eyebrows, and a bowl cut? The man was a rebel when it came to fashion. Another factor is that Leonard Nimoy has a unique and powerful voice.

I was sixteen when I first read The Satanic Bible. A friend of mine I used to talk to in PE class was really into Glenn Danzig, and other sorts of darker punk stuff, and he occasionally talked about Anton LaVey and that he owned a copy of his Satanic Bible. I had previously seen clips of rituals from Satanis on the History channel, and assumed that it was just another devil worshipping sect. I later saw a more accurate portrayal of Satanism on the History channel, the one with the interview with High Priest Gilmore, and it piqued my interest. After reading The Satanic Bible myself, I knew it wasn't just a curious philosophy, but that I myself was a Satanist, and had been since birth.

As for my alias, it's not nearly as interesting as it sounds. As I've said many times, I like alliteration. Just makes everything sound real Norse poetry like. Same thing with the name of my blog. Admittedly, part of this was a blatant Degenerate Diatribe rip-off. Secondly, at the time I really liked the band Napalm Death, and their original bassist/vocalist dubbed himself “Nik Napalm”, so I switched it around. Yeah, I'm a rip-off artist big time.

California is a state that has a confusing love/hate relationship with me. To foreigners of the state, the first thing you'll notice is insanely high prices for everything. Sales tax is a bitch, and that's no joke. Our current governor had a decent run, but the candidates that are running for the upcoming election don't sound too promising. There's a lot of talk about California emulating Arizona's immigration law, which, if that happens, would be almost a full 180 from how we stand now. Known illegals are pretty much accommodated with healthcare and education. One thing I really like is that for the most part it doesn't snow here. If I want to see snow I can go on a drive, but I don't have to worry about shoveling the shit out of my driveway. Los Angeles is a pretty cool place, especially the areas in and around Hollywood. I was completely unimpressed with San Diego. Seaworld is great, but my natural reaction to fishy smells is to gag, so yeah. So far the coolest metropolis I've been to has been San Francisco. As I'm sure you know, that was the residence of the late Doktor LaVey, and I've even walked up and down California street, where the Black House used to be. Great aquarium, and to top it all off Star Trek IV was filmed there. Monterey is basically a mini-San Francisco, with a cool pirate aesthetic all over the place. If you hate foreigners don't come here. The more south you go, the more Mexicans there are, and the more north you go, the more Asians there are. But if you love Mexican food it's worth it. Texans will hate California Mexican food and vice versa. It's a unique place, with it's own unique pleasures, problems, and shitfests. I don't really have a place I can point to on a map and call “home”, so for the time being California is my home, and I'm not about to shit where I eat.

When I was 18 I made the mistake of actually subscribing to a porn site. That resulted in an extremely shitty financial hiccup, and in a way I'm glad it happened, because I'm now very cautious with my funds. As embarrassing as that is, I'm still going to say it because I know there's a lot of people who like porn enough to pay for it: my advice is don't. At least not on the internet. So, in short, I hate all porn sites, except the free ones. Speaking of which, freeones.com is pretty good in that respect. I'm not going to get into any of my specific fetishes or anything, but I will say that I'm pretty freaky. Having said that, get a good antivirus and fap away.

If I was to be any kind of animal other than human I'd probably be a house cat. I love cats, and I've always admired their Godlike powers. I mean, people who own cats practically worship them, and cats have a very envious lifestyle. I wouldn't enjoy getting fleas, but provided I had good owners I think being a cat would rock.

BAND UPDATE: FIRST SHOW

2010-06-12T16:01:00.000-07:00

My band Phic will be playing a show at Johnny's Bar and Grill on Tuesday, June 22 in Lompoc, CA. Ages 21 and over are invited, so please tell everyone you know if you are in the area. If you aren't in the area, and wouldn't mind going on a drive (or plane ride) that would be nice, too.

RUSSIAN CRIMINAL TATTOO

2010-06-08T19:45:00.000-07:00

http://www.russiancriminaltattoo.com/

This site is epic. I found it out of my own curiosity and amusement, but I think this will also work well as a treat for Miss Shade over at Materies Morbi. Dobro pozhalovat'. ;)

Redwood

2010-06-07T22:14:00.000-07:00

Last night I had an interesting dream. I was walking through the Sequoia national park, admiring all the gigantic trees. Out of nowhere it turned night. I continued walking. Through the trees and brush I could see a hint of redness. I walked toward it and noticed one of the trees had been converted into a tower of some sorts, with a fire shooting out from top of it. I had the distinct feeling Orcs called it home.

Click image for full resolution.

Ask Me Questions!

2010-06-01T18:34:00.000-07:00

People seemed to like the whole interview thing, so I'm going to make it a little more interesting and turn the tables. You can ask me anything you'd like. If I don't answer it's probably because it was too random, or too personal, but go ahead and ask anyway. Surprise me!

Ask as many as you'd like, we're aiming for quantity, not quality.

Please include your name, or "anonymous", whatever you wish to be displayed here when I show my answers.

I would make a new e-mail just for this, but I really don't feel like it, so just send all your questions to my regular e-mail at schwarz.bumser@yahoo.com.

Things I Like

2010-05-31T03:24:00.000-07:00

It dawned on me one day that coming over here just to observe my disdain might get boring after a while. So I decided to write about things I genuinely enjoy.

I really like music, as you might have guessed by now. A lot of people have this weird thing in their brain that makes their taste in music extremely limited, and I've noticed that more often than not these people are non-musicians. When I hear a song, the first thing I want to do is find out who the drummer was and have sex with him/her. Which makes a lot of sense considering most rhythms in music are made to imitate the rhythm of fucking. I wouldn't go so far as to say something like "music is my life", because there are moments when listening to music drowns out silence, and that is a particular key that I need more of in my life. Nothing like having front row tickets to a Symphony of Solitude. Also, I've noticed that most people who say "music is my life" are also non-musicians. Music is one of the few things that can stir emotions and jerk you up by the collar on a windy day. And, with today's technology, you can have an entire musical library in the palm of your hand. Besides other computer-based technologies, the only thing I know of that has a similar size to power ratio would be a nuclear warhead.

I like movies. Really, it's hard for me to imagine anyone who doesn't like movies. The number of movies I personally own is embarrassingly low, but I do have favorites, and am a big fan of going out to see one on a gigantic white screen. I like movies with big explosions, chase scenes, torture scenes, lots of blood, guts, and assorted eviscerated parts. I like movies with space ships, wizards, huge scales, long shots, short shots, monsters, accurate and mind-blowing costumes, cool makeup, and more explosions. But my favorite thing in movies is great characters and great actors to play them. No, I'm not one of those people who uses the cop-out line, "this movie has no soul" because the acting performances weren't top-notch. Because if that was me, that's what I'd have to say about every action movie ever made, and I like those. It's simply that I prefer movies where the human performances can connect with you the viewer and actually make you give a shit instead of sitting there going "oooh. Aaaah." As far as renting movies goes, I'll always be a fan of actual stores. Not Netflix, not Redbox, but actual places like Blockbuster, Hollywood Video, and Hastings. But I really can't talk about that anymore without significantly decreasing the positivity of this entry, so I'll move along.

I was going to write "I like books", but I think a much more accurate paragraph should be started with "I like learning". Now, don't let that make you think I liked school. Because I didn't. I'm not going to say I didn't learn anything is school, because in fact I learned a lot. It's just that I didn't take kindly to being part of a demented social experiment, and everything I did there made me resent the places forever, essentially forcing me to hate college. But this is a happy entry. I'm very interested in where we were, where we are, and where we're going. As much as I hate every human in existence, I will concede we've come up with some pretty impressive shit. Let's face it, we're pretty fucking awesome. Badgers ain't got shit on us. I like using all kinds of ways to update myself on our scientific and cultural growth, which includes books, but mostly consists of the internet nowadays. Nothing can ever replace the tactile comfort and history of a physical book. But in this new Electronic Age of Googles, iPads, and Kindles, I have to admit that for the express purpose of learning (and learning in ways unimaginable not even ten years ago) they are far superior. There's a huge amount of knowledge out there, and it's all waiting for it to be vigorously poured into my head. I also like film's retarded cousin, the fiction book. To be honest, most printed fiction simply doesn't work for me, but I'll always have a fondness towards authors who have a clear vision and direction with their work.

Furthermore, I love the internet. I love it so much I decided I'd grace it with my presence in the form of this blog. The internet is simply amazing in so many ways. Anyone who scoffs it as being fit for only the intellectually dense obviously hasn't done enough searching. And really, if you could compare physical encyclopedias and dinosaurs like the dewey decimal system to internet search functions, you'd soon realize that the term "search" applied to the internet is just stupid. I love all things about the internet, the big smart ideas, the ease of finding bills, scientific journals, and the insanely stupid shit we all know and love as internet memes. Oh yes, and of course, the porn. With Rule 34 as my guide, I tread thee well, e-waters. But all the viruses can kiss my ass.

Another thing I like about the internet is how I have come into contact with other creative (and far smarter) individuals. Whether it's Twisted Jenius, The Tau Zero Foundation, or just some cretin who happens to have a DeviantArt profile, I'm extremely grateful to have been in contact with these people, and if I was limited to snail mail and a phone book, well, forget it.

Another thing I like a lot, and this might get confusing, is people. Not everyone, mind you. Not even most of them; just a few people. Typically the people I like are those who add some kind of amusement or humor to my life, the people I love are those who challenge me and give me good reasons to challenge myself. The people I admire the most are generally those who either have an immense creative bug, or are extremely proficient in just getting shit done. Which is basically the opposite of me. I'm creative enough I suppose, but over time the "back burner" as folks like to call it has become my friend. At the end of all this my reasons for liking these people is entirely selfish; those who can create have something to offer me. Granted, the only reason I find their creativity valuable at all is because I share common interests with them, but more often than not they also share my selfishness.

At the end of writing this I can tell you that by far one of my favorite things is the iron abode of all things dark, villainous, and bat-cave-ish. I'm really not comfortable playing the role of White Knight or the every day do-gooder. Sure, there are things I find ethically repulsive, but there's only so much I'm willing to personally protect from those things. That's probably why I wouldn't make a good police officer. Pretty much all of the clothing I wear is black. Most of the music I listen to has some kind of dark undercurrent. Not all of it is obvious, like many different forms of metal, but even blues-influenced music that makes use of major scales (happy notes) usually is brooding about sumthineruther, and carries the weight of social hecklers and hermits. Another thing is that the shining angels of the world tend to all be from the same cut of meat. Children of the night, while sharing a similar aesthetic, have far much more individuality, which translates into "they're less boring".

Well, this took forever, and it's already inspired some future, not-so-nice entries, so I hope you enjoyed reading it.

Hot Chick?

2010-05-27T07:09:00.000-07:00

Personally I couldn't care less about Bioshock movies or Call of Duty, or any of that other shit. Is online multiplayer shitfest gaming fun? Fuck yes, but my game will always be Halo 2. In the near future I might be obtaining a copy of Star Trek Online, but until then my pixelated clusterfucks will be limited to Missile Command and Robot Unicorn Attack. (Thanks H Bomb.)

But to the real point of this post. Check out the chica. Yowza. Bammo. I JUST CAME.

In other words, if you're like me, just put it on mute and enjoy the show.

For those of you who are interested in both modern and vintage gaming shit, I highly suggest you take a trip to Loaded Cartridge; this blog is maintained by the same author as Degenerate Diatribe (defunct), and On Guts, Glory, And Goin' Out With A Bang.

Actual content in the works. It's coming along, just not at my previous pace of one every one to two days. At this point I think it's safe to say those days are over. But don't worry, in between actual posts I'll link you to more hot chicks and stuff.

--Napalm out.

Hang You from the Heavens

2010-05-23T16:52:00.000-07:00

I bought The Dead Weather's new album, but I haven't listened to it yet. That's how much time I have. Can't even listen to my new music. Fun.

On that note, here's a nice live video from one of the better songs on their debut album.

Thought Concerning Science and Life Extension

2010-05-22T03:43:00.000-07:00

Here's a brief thought I had concerning the role scientific discovery and its application has in our lives.

The vast majority of scientific knowledge we now use and thrive on was first postulated, tested, and pioneered by people who are long dead. Granted, the people who are making use of it are very much alive, but we are essentially resting upon the shoulders of giants who are in their graves.

Often times a scientific thinker will theorize and come up with ideas their entire lifetimes, and the real fruits of their efforts will come into effect posthumously.

Life extension offers an opportunity for the originators of certain ideas to add their unique insight into how said ideas are used in inventions, projects, etc. We are still grappling with how gravity works with other forms of energy, and while we use gravity to our advantage in many modern inventions, would it not be beneficial if Sir Isaac Newton were able to come into a room and say "well, here's what I think"?

Suppose a scientist were to mathematically explain how gravity works in conjunction with another form of energy, like electricity and magnetism work through electromagnetism. An ambitious inventor could use such a discovery to build space ships that could take advantage of this information, and these ships could safely navigate areas of space in which black holes are known to exist. Provided the originator of this idea was still alive at the time of such an invention, he could provide his unique, original insight into just how such devices could be implemented. Furthermore, he himself could invent mechanisms based upon his own mathematical discoveries!

Imagine if the same could be done in the field of medicine. People living longer would be able to, well, live even longer!

Computers, applied physics, space exploration, you name it, it could grossly benefit from having living pioneers fueling its propagation and persistence.

Napalm out.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BOB SAGET!!!

2010-05-17T18:45:00.000-07:00

Today is American actor/comedian Bob Saget's birthday.

He's mostly known for his role in the show Full House, but I wasn't born early enough to appreciate him then. No, I remember Mr. Saget best for his work on America's Funniest Home Videos. When it was actually funny. And original. You know a show is full of shit when they show videos submitted almost twenty years ago. Makes me miss the days of camcorders that actually took tapes, and had distinguished, shitty video quality. Such sweet nostalgia. But back to Bob Saget.

He just has an amazing name. Bob Saget. Or, phonetically, BAHB SAEGITT. Looks like some badass Roman general. Like the kind who would fuck the insides of someone's freshly decapitated head. Perhaps there is only one man who can give his name any justice; to speak it with such rigorous vigor that it would inspire hope in the strong, and fear in the rotten.

Turkish Belly Dancing

2010-05-17T03:07:00.000-07:00

Both same girl. Gotta love Turkey.

Oh, and great music, too. ;)

Military Wives

2010-05-16T02:24:00.000-07:00

Of all the things I could possibly talk about, I'm going to talk about the female companions of males in the United States military. Why? Because they bug the shit out of me.

Now, before I begin, I'd like to say that what follows doesn't apply to every military wife out there. Just most of them.

I really don't know what it is with them, but holy dumb fuck on Bob Saget's tit dirt are they dense! They represent everything about women that I hate: annoying voices, saggy tits, stupidity, irresponsibility, neediness, clinginess, delusions, dishonesty, gossip, book groups, extreme sensitivity, illogic, irrationality, whining, screaming kids, and the belief that they don't need to work because their husband wears a uniform.

One time I went on my lunch break, and saw one wipe her face with a napkin that was covered in pizza sauce; she pretty much looked like a dumber, inflated version of her child. I blame all the bad smells on military bases on them. Can't possibly be PT shorts. I've been strangled with PT shorts, and I'll have you know they smell like rancid brisket, but that's nothing compared to the stench of "I'm exerting myself too much by eating" sweat, and the horrendous odor of "excuse me, but I hate these jeans at the moment because I give camel toe a bad name, and BY THE FUCKING WAY I'M MENSTRUATING!!"

Speaking of menstruation, there are very few things in this universe that frighten me more. There are several factors to this. One being the fact that an angry woman is just scary, period. Secondly, vaginas themselves are scary. not saying I hate vaginas, but I did have a bad experience watching the movie Predator as a child. Thirdly, menstrual blood is not just your run-of-the-mill blood. No sir.

Menstrual "blood" is actually the lining of a woman's uterus, and every month it gets ripped out and flushed out her vag-hole. If that doesn't make you want to vomit, I question your humanity. One time I had to inspect a ladies' bathroom before leaving work. You know how little boys like to piss all over the seat? Yeah, now imagine that, only being RED. Another time I had to clean out a tampon dispenser. Easily the grossest thing women do.

No wonder all the Air Force guys are going gay.

Ike and Iron Man

2010-05-15T00:17:00.000-07:00

My new work schedule is very demanding, and when I'm not working I like to spend my time doing as many passive, relaxing things as possible; it's easier on me. However, I don't like being one of those bloggers who only occasionally posts entries. So what I will do from now on if I don't have any original material is post second-hand material that I find interesting, funny, etc. It only takes me a couple of seconds, and it makes me feel as though I actually did something. I will try to get in at least two articles sometime before next Saturday.

JESUS SAVES

2010-05-14T04:03:00.000-07:00

Got a couple of blogs in the process of being written for y'all. In the mean time, enjoy some hilarious crap:

Yes, I love Lady Ga Ga, and I think paranoid conspiracy theorist Christians are hilarious. Furthermore I think her use of Masonic imagery is great, and in very good taste. Is she a Satanist? I dunno. It's possible, but I do know that the guy who directed two of her videos is. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jonas_%C3%85kerlund

Dancing

2010-05-09T04:16:00.000-07:00

I'm pretty fucking White. Technically, I'm not White enough to check in "White" on a census without getting murdered by the government's ninjas two business days later, but my dad is a textbook example of a super-honkey. I sound White, mostly look White, and listen to mostly "White" music.

Except for hip-hop. Least White music there is. Even less White than actual African music, because District 9 sucked so bad we're getting reparations in the form of intangible ownership rights.

Now, after being to my first ever hip-hop show, I can say that the distinctively colored-oriented phrase "White people can't dance" is ironic as fuck.

In order to dance, you have to have rhythm. Most people do, I imagine. If they don't, I'm not in the least bit envious of their sex life. Most of the people didn't seem to have a problem with this at first, except for one rat-looking fellow in front of me that a friend and myself dubbed "bouncing plaid". We called him this because he was wearing an obnoxious plaid shirt, and was attempting to do that one dance where the guy wraps his arms around the chick from behind and just sort of sways. Doesn't sound like anyone could fuck it up, but he did, and well, it did look like retarded bouncing. I felt sorry for his chica.

But everyone else was doing fine. Until of course the band did a very unusual thing for hip-hop. The changed it to 5/4. All this means is instead of counting the music "1,2,3,4;1,2,3,4...", you count it "1,2,3,4,5;1,2,3,4,5...". That's all it is. Adding one note. My musician friend and myself immediately noticed it, and this was the song that we danced to most vigorously, because it was unexpected and exciting. But the rest of the people, who were mostly Black and Hispanic, just sort of stumbled around, wondering what the fuck went wrong with their feet. Bouncing plaid kept going on, of course, oblivious to such things as "rhythm".

And seriously, their dances aren't that hard to do. There's actually very little movement involved; I'd like to see them try a basic waltz. Those are in 3/4, which is subtracting one note.

"White people can't dance". Where the fuck did this shit come from?

Oh yeah, it came from the rotten "brain" of a jiggaboo. Duh!