I haven’t written since APRIL FUCKING 6th.  It’s a crying shame ’cause a ton has happened and a lot of it noteworthy.

Does anybody read this shit anyway?

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The dis-accord and general lack of unity among you is ridiculous and reprehensible.

Instead of a group of minorities coming together to take a proud stand for the right to exist in the face of a ridiculously overwhelming majority, you throw around threats, demands, and indignation.

The worst of all is that the systems and precepts which you so adamantly defend, the injustices which you decry, are based in flawed and contrived ideas.

“Gender” is an unnecessary abstraction the nature of which will only produce controversy and discrimination.

“Gender” spawned from “sex,” a binary designation of the physical description of the external appearance of an individual’s genitals.

The “sex” designation came about because it is one of the most important things to a species who relies on sexual reproduction to propagate itself.

Unfortunately, given the amount of data there is on reproduction, a binary and especially visual definition is outdated, inaccurate, and undescriptive.  Right now “sex” is about as useful as offering two options for “race.”

Therefore, the foundation on which “gender” was built is shaky, unstable, unsafe, and condemnable. Given such conditions it should not be in use at all. Instead of fighting for the right to express one or the other, it should be deprecated completely.

Switching gears, the DLD is a bureaucratic entity designed to discourage irresponsible driving and lower automobile-related fatalities by creating a “barrier” to entry in the form of fees, tests, and fines. This is the only reason it exists.

Do you really think that your reproductive responsibility is a factor in driving an automobile or participating in the task of overcoming the contrived entry barrier?  It’s about as important as race to a system of fees and fines.  The entity only cares about a capacity to pay and ability to regurgitate information.

You shouldn’t be fighting for the right to put “F” or “M” on your license as you please, you should be fighting to have the designation removed completely.

You shouldn’t be fighting for an “F” or “M” at all. You should be fighting to update “sex” to a more accurate description.

The focus of your energy is misplaced. It’s like arguing over how much gas to put in a car when the vehicle should use an alternative energy source in the first place.

My roommate and I talked for two hours last night as she ate her KFC and I drank my expensive Japanese beer with lemon in it.

It’s a home-made remedy of mine– expensive beer and lemon– to ease the symptoms of if not cure the common cold.  I’m not sure how exactly to pull it off, I’m not sure the right dosage of ingredients, but I am sure of the timing and I do listen to what my body has to say.

The lemon (or lime) is full of Vitamin C, the small dose of alcohol from the beer, and … the hops?  This combined with a nice, hot bath where I sweat said substance out of my pores usually does the trick if I catch the burgeoning cold in the scratchy-throat stage.

We talked about her homeland, Kenya, and prices of real estate.  I mentioned that it would be a good idea to leverage American dollars to buy real estate in foreign countries, Kenya for example.

She said her ex-boyfriend did that.  Once I realized that people _really do_ make a living doing this I was struck with the realization of how stuck I currently am, how unhappy I am at my current job, and how limited my thinking is.

I had the idea a few months ago to buy things from wholesalers in China and sell them on eBay.  I eventually narrowed down the category to “cosmetics” and was, of course, overjoyed when I saw MAC available.

Multiple emails and a returned Paypal payment later, I learned these were _fake_ MAC cosmetics.  Counterfeit.

I was #surprised, #frusterated, #upset, and #depressed all at the same time.  It was bad enough I had to avoid scammers who would take my money and run– now I’d have to watch out for scammers who wished to sell me fake MAC cosmetics.

Attempting to research eBay for other potentially profitable categories was equally frustrating.  eBay’s API was lacking and the only end-of-sale data I could come up with was either searching specific categories and specific search terms by hand or behind a paywall– inexpensive, yes, but I’d just been delivered an offer for full-time work and pushed off signup because of lack of use.

Needless to say, the whole idea fell by the wayside and for the last six months I’ve been too focused on my job, how tired it makes me, and which distraction I will consume next.

It took talking to my roommate in our kitchen to realize how focused I am.  Focused in areas that don’t bring me close to any palpable goal.

I do believe it’s possible.  I believe that I’ll enjoy it.  I enjoyed the few months I had working for myself.  I enjoy the freedom.  I enjoy not having the constant and underlying fear of being fired, of pushing myself to perform.

I don’t even know where to start.  I’ll ask Quora.com.  🙂

I make them all the time, not just for the new year. It’s pure coincidence that it’s the new year.

I’ll lay it out: I’ve been involved/playing/immersed in World of Warcraft a lot. I’m absolutely fine with this and don’t think it’s a waste of time. Life has shit on me for certain things and WoW– despite it’s engineered addictive qualities– is an outlet in which I can participate and lose myself.

At the same time, I’ve got this nagging urge to read and write. I really believe there are people out there who can benefit from and would enjoy reading what I have to write. Hell, Jocelyn and her friend (name slips my mind) seem to enjoy listening to it, and they’re just two of hundreds, thousands.

Furthermore, what I’m doing currently, programming, is NOT what I see myself doing in the long term. I’m not good at it, I don’t like it, I’m only doing it because I fell into it, something to get me away from jobs that require no higher education, i.e. customer support.

Each day, each year that goes by entrenches me more and more into WoW– socially-engineered game for 16-year-olds– and pigeonholes me into programming for the rest of my life.

Changes happens slowly, I’m well aware of this. Change also happens only with temperance, dedication, persistence, and discipline.

A part of me really believes I can do it. A part of me is scared to death. A part of me rejects all success.

I’m going to buy a Nook. I’m going to buy some eBooks and read them.

The world of publishing has changed. Lulu.com and other self-publishing services–hell, even making your own ePub and sticking it on Amazon– are the future of publishing, reading, and writing.

I don’t know what the future holds and I have NO idea how to approach this save for writing and pressing every opportunity to get it in front of someone. I don’t know what blogs to read, I don’t know whom my audience is, I don’t know where they are.

Happy New Year.

My 5-year-old and I were drawing the other day on scratch paper with fat-tipped Sharpies.

She showed me how to draw asteroids and it gave me a brilliant and sadistic idea.

I drew a town and people, simple, crudely-drawn folk going about their business in a crudely-drawn town. There was even a stick figure with a baby, one who had a suitcase, one who carried goods on the top of her head.

It was a busy, thriving town. Pompei, am I right? I’ll call National Geographic.

Once I was finished, she used her asteroid-drawing skills to decimate the place, i.e. quick drawn lines coming down from the top of the page. I also simulated the screams and death cries of the crudely-drawn inhabitants in the crudely-drawn town to give this whole exercise a dose of silly realism.

She pointed out, too, that the baby got toasted. Even the baby, wow. Ouch. Ruthless, this girl!

The hail of asteroids stopped but the damage had been done. The town was in ruins. To add insult to injury, a volcano popped up out of nowhere and flooded the whole thing with lava. What a disaster.

Not content to extinguish the human race so quickly and brutally, I drew scouting party from a different civilization that came to investigate the damage and possibly take over the land for their own.

Nope– mother nature’s 5-year-old ambassador wouldn’t have it. The asteroids savagely made extinct the scouting party and the lava sealed their tombs.

So I brought in the animals from the nearby plains. In a land devoid of human contamination they roam free across the land!

Nope. Dead. Asteroids and lava. The earth has it out for this part of the world, it seems.

Then, came the coup de grace.

She said, “Wait, now draw God.”

Ugh, I’m like 99% atheist– do we have to bring a god into this? She had attended a Baptist-run daycare for the last two years– I can only assume they slip in God and Jesus references– and there’s no way I’m going to squelch this little skit with no-fun atheism, so I complied. I drew a big, fat Christian God, a white guy in the sky. I even gave him a crown.

She said, “He has to have a mustache.”

Oops, yes, sorry– God is male and has a beard; I forgot.

So I drew some hair on the God floating in the sky above the ravaged, desolate wasteland.

What happened next floored me.

BOOM! The asteroids hit. SWOOSH, the lava hit!

I said, “Oh my god! The asteroids got God! And the lava!”

She said, “Yup, they killed God.”

Wow. Just. Wow.

I had to pause a sec. This had come from a 5-year-old who had attended a Christian day-care and whose grandparents are Mormon. I was convinced that she’d been brainwashed to the point that the Christian God was almighty and omni-everything in her eyes.

Nope. My 5-year-old killed god.

I’m proud of my baby.

I have friends on Facebook: people I’ve met, people I’ve barely met, people who know me only through other people and random wall posts.

Let’s get one thing straight, too, before I continue: I’m not one of those people who have 500 friends, a number of people I can’t possibly know. No, I like to keep it more intimate; I like to actually know the people or be getting to know, in the case of my half-sisters and brothers.

When I look at the “Live News” feed, i.e. shit my Facebook “friends” post, I am able to read what my barely-friends have posted. More often than not, I completely, 100% disagree with what they have to say.

Now hang on, there, before you jump in and say, “Disagreement is good,” that’s not what I’m saying. I’m on your side on that one: disagreement is good. I love counter-opinions and diversity. Unfortunately, I like facts, too, but that’s another discussion.

Anyway, I’m cool with you saying, “Jesus saves … ’cause he called me on my fucking cell and I gave him your number.”

Holy shit! Jesus is going to call me? Bad-ass. I’ll be ready for the motherfucker. THAT I can deal with.

No, it’s not just disagree, it’s something stronger. It would be like friend-ing a Mormon and having to see her posts about salvation and baptism show up on the list and blight my eyeballs, take away brain CPU and storage.

I completely, 100% uninterested in anything Jesus- or Mormon-related and furthermore don’t wish to have the slightest bit of text mentioning either of the above contaminating my wall. Why should I? It’s my fucking wall. I want it graced with profanity, sadism, hedonism, loneliness, cynicism, antagonism, chaos… you know, real life.

Now let’s get down to the meat and potatoes. The people I’m talking about aren’t Mormons. I don’t think I have any Mormons as Facebook “friends,” as a matter of fact. (Oh, wait, I do, but they don’t sell me their shit and they’re family.)

No, the people I’m talking about are … drum roll … vegans and animal activists. Boom, I said it.

“What’s wrong with veganism?” you may ask. “What’s wrong with animal activism?” you may inquire.

I will tell you.

Right now in Pakistan* there are MILLIONS of families displaced from their homes. Let’s reiterate. MILLIONS.

Imagine an announcement to EVERYONE in Salt Lake City saying, “Motherfuck, you guys gotta move. Leave WHEREVER you are, whatever you’re doing, and go to some tent in Ogden.”

Wait a sec … leave EVERYTHING behind? My computer? My internet? My food? My water? My toiletries? My makeup? My clothes? My shoes? My weird Pho-like soup I have to eat everyday for lunch?

Yes, every-fucking-thing.

People got evacuated in Provo the other day because of a natural gas leak. They spent the night in a school.

OK, that’s inconvenient, how about ALL of Provo for A MONTH.

Is my point clear? This is some serious, serious business. If you value yours or someone else’s life at all you’ll realize the enormity of what’s happening.

But no, you can’t imagine it, can you? Because you’re too busy trying to save kitties from being rolled around in a dryer.

Guess what … I’d kill 50 kitties, drink their blood, and smear it over my naked body if I could get ONE Pakistani* family back into their home, back to their possessions, back to their way of life.

Fuck kitties, fuck doggies, what about PEOPLE? What about other humans? Your brothers and sisters are STARVING, dying of disease, being killed by their own leaders, and suffering all manner of INHUMAN experiences.

And you are concerned that the kitties in the animal shelter haven’t been adopted.

I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want it on my wall. I feel awful for rejecting people as a friend on Facebook but Jesus F. Christ if animal rights isn’t akin to Jehova’s Witnesses telling me I’m going to hell and bombarding my house with their stupid magazine then I don’t know what it is.

Remove friend. Remove me if you want to, I’d appreciate it.

* Pakistan = flooded.

Ingredients:

4 cups brown rice
A handful of spinach leaves (stem removed)
2 “roma” tomatoes (chopped)
3 Tbs cilantro (chopped)
2-3 chopped hot dogs (or some other weird meat– just not chicken or turkey)
Pho soup and/or beef bullion cubes
1/2 of an onion (sliced)
2 green onions (chopped)

Instructions:

* Fill up a pot with water (i.e. tons more than the rice– don’t worry, we’ll strain it later) and add your flavor cubes and a tiny bit of salt;
* When it boils, add: the rice, meat, onions, and tomato;
* Turn down the heat to a little below medium;

Let it boil for about 30 minutes, then add the whole spinach leaves.

Let it boil for about 15 more minutes (the rice should be tender).

Then strain out some of the water, leaving enough to keep it juicy. Turn off the heat. Add the cilantro. Cover and let sit until it cools.

Full of fiber and nutrients, easy on the stomach, and tasty to boot.