To my Once Prince

Lets talk of fairy tales.

We are all told that this is what our lives should be like. A rough first act a brief happiness and then tragedy in the second and a happily ever after at the end. All problems resolved and the smile all around. That is what our parents tell us, disney tells us, and countless other sources. We are told at an early age that this is what we should expect. Things might get a little rough but you are just in the process of your happily ever after. You are in the rough beginning. Nothing more. We are all certainly special and something amazing will happen. There is someone out there for everyone and everyone has a true love. What? You don't believe me? Look at all those stories and movies. Hell look at just how happy barbie is.

The truth is far less kind. Even the true stories of those famous princesses is far from glamorous. The little mermaid commits suicide than kill her love that rejected her. Sleeping beauty is raped and gave birth. Little red riding hood gets eaten by the wolf. Cinderellas step sisters hacked off body parts to steal charming away. That is far from the pretty picture that we are told as children, but those were the stories we should haven been told. That way when bad things happen we wouldn't be so selfish with our demands for recompense. Bravery and love are not always rewarded or returned, nor is honesty, kindness, or passion.

So let me tell you a fairy tale. Stop me if you have heard this one before.

Once upon a time there was a girl. She was the youngest of her parents brood and the most different from them. She had the voice of a song bird and was the only one so gifted. Her parents and siblings had eyes of blue of the sky and brown of bark hers were are green  as the leaves on the trees. She was kind , as well as honest to the point of bluntness, generous without thought, and very very sarcastic. No matter what she seemed to do she didn't seem to fit in with the rest of her family. That came to no surprise, for her mother was vile and twisted. So much so her father was never home for long. Her mother twisted those children around her  until they either fled or were twisted themselves, but not the little song bird girl.

She stood up to her mother for her siblings, and they watched in silence as she battled with the vile witch day after day year after year to keep them safe from her mother witch's evil power.. But all too soon she was tired and lonely so after a time, like  the birds that share her voice she flew from that place. As she left she met a wolf disguised as a prince. He was kind at first and sweet. She thought the world of him. She ran from her home and went out exploring, begging what she thought was the prince to come with her. He promised her he would but he was very cruel. She made a little home and got it ready for his arrival but he never came. He left her alone. He paid her no attention and the affection he once had was gone. when his attention was given it was often with malice. More often than not though he was silent. The only sound she heard was the cold howl from the winter wind. he never came to the little nest she made for them  Still she waited and waited. Her prince had promised after all.  She waited as woodland predators from all around took turns scratching and biting her. Waiting for her to give up hope so she would be easy prey for them to eat.  After a time she grew lonely once more. The vile witch had also found where she had fled to and was determined to get a hold of her once more and the creatures were starting to leave their marks. The girl began to sob. She cried and cried, sure that no one would hear her. Her voice sang out a song of pure sadness. A prince wondering by heard her call and was struck by it. he had to find the damsel and help the poor creature.

He found the girl alone and crying and fell in love with her. he promised her that she would never again be alone and that he loved her.  He held her close and one by one rid her of the woodland creatures. He helped her cast aside the evil witch and  the wolf and once more brought joy to the girl. She fell in love with him and for a moment they were happy. But the moment was brief. Her prince had to leave and return to his castle. He had promised to return but after a time that changed. Before he left, though he swore he loved her before, he deigned ever having feelings for her. He broke her heart in two and left with barely a word or reason why. The girl swore she loved him, and sang her feelings to him, brought up all the memories that they shared and all the promises that he had made. it was no use. He was no longer listening and had already swore he found someone else.

So there the girl sat once more. Alone and crying. After a while she dried her tears. Her heart was still broken and she was sure that it would never be whole again. She gave up her dream of every finding her true love for she was sure she had already found him and he no longer cared for her. A woodsman came by and to keep warm she invited him to share her nest. The girl planned to leave and make a new nest, far from her loves land, and far from his memory but her plans needed time. So she shared her nest with the woodsman who she had no love for. Only mild affection. She cried for her lost prince and her heart was still broken.Despite everything her prince had done she knew that she still loved him and then best thing for her was to forget so she did they only thing she knew how to do and ran away.

The end.


That is the kind of story that we should have been told. That is the kind of story that is more accurate. It would help prepare us as kinds for what was to come instead of these prepackaged lies.the heart break would at least be a little better to bear if you were constantly told how things should have ended. Even the original grimms fairytales end with a happily ever after more times than not. There are some really sick twisted things in those tales but every few actually end badly.  So this is my fairy tale. the end

Borrowed time

It seems I have been on borrowed time for too long and now the bill has seem to come and my credit card has reached its limit.

A year of happiness, a year of freedom, and a year of independence is now gone. Now I have a roommate that I used to think of as a friend first, a job that is slowly turning more and more sour by the day, and never ending loneliness. My Odysseus is far from my island it seems. All I can do is hope that he returns to me eventually but after so long, though I know he will return, the light at the end of the tunnel seems dimmer and dimmer.

Overdrawn I am trying to keep afloat. I am not drowning, but I am far from land and I can no longer seem to care anymore. Apathy is my only flotation device. So far from who I used to be, who I was. I liked that person, I didn't want to change. I was happy. Now that I gone to, and after all that I faced I am owed much more than a mere year. But I do not get to make the decisions. I do not get to control the universe. There is no real justice system in the universe. No karma. Just actions and reactions. If it happens to work out fairly then so be it.

Maybe I just have island fever. Maybe this will fade and I will once again be who I thought that I was. Maybe my hope isn't so far away. Maybe my light is closer and brighter than I think. Still, in the end it is back to where I was before. I must fight for it, something it seems I have done for so long. I wanted my peace and I got a year of it. Apparently that is enough of a reward. I should just get over the fact that it is once again time to fight, and just fight. Stop being weak, stop being whinny and pathetic that I lost it, and fight once more. Toughen back up, stop being so soft, because that isn't a luxury I can afford any more.

The fight is all I have ever known, and in a way, that is my true home. So I guess Its time to stop vacationing and go home.

The True Twlight.

With the amount of Twilight crap that is coming out to better sell the movie, how could I not say something about it? I wanted to  look at the truth of Twlight

So let's take a look at the idea for a moment, shall we? I think a little history is in order.

The notion of vampirism has existed for millennia; cultures such as the Mesopotamians, Hebrews, Ancient Greeks, and Romans had tales of demons and spirits which are considered precursors to modern vampires. However, despite the occurrence of vampire-like creatures in these ancient civilizations, the folklore for the entity we know today as the vampire originates almost exclusively from early-18th-century southeastern Europe, when verbal traditions of many ethnic groups of the region were recorded and published. In most cases, vampires are remnants of evil beings, suicide victims, or witches, but they can also be created by a malevolent spirit possessing a corpse or by being bitten by a vampire. Belief in such legends became so pervasive that in some areas it caused mass hysteria and even public executions of people believed to be vampires.

It is difficult to make a single, definitive description of the folkloric vampire, though there are several elements common to many European legends. Vampires were usually reported as bloated in appearance, and ruddy, purplish, or dark in color; these characteristics were often attributed to the recent drinking of blood. Indeed, blood was often seen seeping from the mouth and nose when one was seen in its shroud or coffin and its left eye was often open. It would be clad in the linen shroud it was buried in, and its teeth, hair, and nails may have grown somewhat, though in general fangs were not a feature.

                                               Good thing too because that looks pretty bad.

The causes of vampiric generation were many and varied in original folklore. In Slavic and Chinese traditions, any corpse that was jumped over by an animal, particularly a dog or a cat, was feared to become one of the undead. A body with a wound that had not been treated with boiling water was also at risk. In Russian folklore, vampires were said to have once been witches or people who had rebelled against the Russian Orthodox Church while they were alive. So in Russia I am going to turn into a vampire when I die. Great.

Many elaborate rituals were used to identify a vampire. One method of finding a vampire's grave involved leading a virgin boy through a graveyard or church grounds on a virgin stallion—the horse would supposedly baulk at the grave in question.Generally a black horse was required, though in Albania it should be white. So that is why those priest had those little boys. They were looking for vampires. Riiiiiight.  Holes appearing in the earth over a grave were taken as a sign of vampirism.

Cultural practices often arose that were intended to prevent a recently deceased loved one from turning into an undead revenant. Burying a corpse upside-down was widespread, as was placing earthly objects
such as scythes or sickles near the grave to satisfy any demons entering the body or to appease the dead so that it would not wish to arise from its coffin. Just like the Ancient Greek practice of placing an obolus in the corpse's mouth to pay the toll to cross the River Styx in the underworld. Some suggest that instead, the coin was intended to ward off any evil spirits from entering the body, and this may have influenced later vampire folklore. This tradition persisted in modern Greek folklore about the vrykolakas, in which a wax cross and piece of pottery with the inscription "Jesus Christ conquers" were placed on the corpse to prevent the body from becoming a vampire.Other methods commonly practiced in Europe included severing the tendons at the knees or placing poppy seeds, millet, or sand on the ground at the grave site of a presumed vampire; this was intended to keep the vampire occupied all night by counting the fallen grains, because apparently vampires have OCD and just HAVE to count, hence The Count from sesame street. 

So where do we get the vampire that we have today? Easy, books. 




While even folkloric vampires of the Balkans and Eastern Europe had a wide range of appearance ranging from nearly human to bloated rotting corpses, it was interpretation of the vampire by the Christian Church and the success of vampire literature, namely John Polidori's 1819 novella The Vampyre that established the archetype of charismatic and sophisticated vampire; it is arguably the most influential vampire work of the early 19th century, inspiring such works as Varney the Vampire and eventually Dracula^, The Vampyre was itself based on Lord Byron's unfinished story "Fragment of a Novel", also known as "The Burial: A Fragment", published in 1819.
However, it is Bram Stoker's 1897 novel Dracula that is remembered as the quintessential vampire novel and which provided the basis of modern vampire fiction. Dracula drew on earlier mythologies of werewolves and similar legendary demons and "was to voice the anxieties of an age", and the "fears of late Victorian patriarchy". The success of this book spawned a distinctive vampire genre, still popular in the 21st century, with books, films, video games, and television shows.

                                         Vlad the Impaler aka Count Dracula aka not a nice guy 

 Although vampiric entities have been recorded in many cultures, and may go back to "prehistoric times", the term vampire was not popularized until the early 18th century, after an influx of vampire superstition into Western Europe from areas where vampire legends were frequent, such as the Balkans and Eastern Europe, although local variants were also known by different names, such as vrykolakas in Greece and strigoi in Romania. This increased level of vampire superstition in Europe led to mass hysteria and in some cases resulted in corpses actually being staked and people being accused of vampirism. The sad thing is that it still happens now. In 2002 -2003 there were allegations of vampire attacks in the African country of Malawi with mobs stoning one individual to death and attacking at least four others, including Governor Eric Chiwaya, based on the belief that the government was colluding with vampires.

Still no worries kids, we have top people on the case. In 2006, a physics professor at the University of Central Florida wrote a paper arguing that it is mathematically impossible for vampires to exist, based on geometric progression. According to the paper, if the first vampire had appeared on 1 January 1600, and it fed once a month (which is less often than what is depicted in films and folklore), and every victim turned into a vampire, then within two and a half years the entire human population of the time would have become vampires. The paper made no attempt to address the credibility of the assumption that every vampire victim would turn into a vampire but I am not a vampire and there are vegetarians out there so they can't be either.

How do you protect yourself? Easy.

Garlic is the usual suspect but if you are out I got you covered, a branch of wild rose and hawthorn plant are said to harm vampires, and in Europe, sprinkling mustard seeds on the roof of a house was said to keep them away. There is the obvious  sacred items, like a crucifix, rosary, or holy water and vampires  are said to be unable to walk on consecrated ground, or cross running water for some reason.Although not traditional, mirrors have been used to ward off vampires when placed, facing outwards, on a door (in some cultures, vampires do not have a reflection and sometimes do not cast a shadow, perhaps as a manifestation of the vampire's lack of a soul). This attribute, although not universal (the Greek vrykolakas/tympanios was capable of both reflection and shadow), was used in Dracula and has remained popular in movies and books. Some traditions also hold that a vampire cannot enter a house unless invited by the owner, although after the first invitation they can come and go as they please. Though folkloric vampires were believed to be more active at night, they were not generally considered vulnerable to sunlight.

                                                     This is hawthorn for those in need

And here is my favorite part of all. You see kids, since the term vampire is actually a recent development. Before what we think of as vampires were several different demons or spirits, even gods. They all consumed the flesh or blood to steal one's spirit. There were all sorts of different flavors and looks, but they all did the same thing, they ate people. When Christian came around is when things started getting a bit more unified. When everyone started converting the idea became more solid. The vampire was viewed as "a dead person who retained a semblance of life and could leave its grave-much in the same way that Jesus had risen after his death and burial and appeared before his followers." In the Middle Ages, the Christian Church reinterpreted vampires from their previous folk existence into minions of Satan, and used an allegory to communicate a doctrine to Christians: "Just as a vampire takes a sinner's very spirit into itself by drinking his blood, so also can a righteous Christian by drinking Christ's blood take the divine spirit into himself. So Jesus was a vampire.

Still, it is odd that every culture out there has a version of a vampire.  So who knows, maybe there are vampires out there and they are just better about not drinking blood from people, or they just frequent blood banks. There are a lot of theories but it is interesting. Why are vampires so stuck in the human psyche that we can't seem to get them out and we will kill people under the suspicion that they just might be one.

So in truth, Twlight is completely off, just like everything else. We do not really seem to know what vampires are after all.

The Fire Rises

A fine frenzy you are now dear
All those ideals
you failed to adhere
and there is no court of appeals 

 You swore it was me
that was the bane
and if I was absentee
 your greatness you'd regain

You sang our swan song
as you slandered my name

I was the one who was wrong
and you the one of great claim

How proud you were
so sure to succeed
yet you bowed
at your first lone deed

The fire claimed all
And were I rose
You did nothing but fall

with all of your woes

And I rise
so very high
burning into the night skies
without you I fly

I lent a hand
as you lay in ash
but I was banned
in your abash

So do not blame my hand
when it was yours
that lost your promised land
in your fire wars

The fire rises
and so does the  bird
there no surprises
in the theater of the absurd

Diamonds aren't forever. Knowledge is.

I am quite the nerd. I follow under the ideals of Sherlock. Your mind has a limited amount of space, so what you put into it better be worth it. Thus, I end up reading books and watching shows that just promote learning of some kind. There are a few exceptions but for the most part I follow that rule. So after 3 weeks of being in the middle of the sea and only armed with books I bring you more odd and interesting facts to show you what a odd and diverse world we live in.

To those that prefer diamonds I have bad news for you. Even though they say that diamonds are forever it is not so. For those of you who skipped chemistry class, diamonds are made through heat and pressure of carbon. The carbon atoms form a pyramid  like structure. Graphite, the stuff in your pencil instead of lead, has a layered planar structure. This makes Graphite more chemically stable than diamonds. In chemistry everything wants to be stable so over time diamonds turn into graphite. Now before you run to your dresser to check your earrings, calm down. The process does take quite a while and your earrings will not turn into graphite any time soon. A few more facts on diamonds and then we shall move on.

Diamonds are extremely good conductors of heat so they best way to see if your diamonds are real(natural) is to see how well said jewels conduct heat. That is seriously the test that most scientist/suspicious jewelers  use to find out. Also diamonds are no longer the hardest substance known to man. In 2005 scientist at Bayreuth university in Germany created a new material by compressing pure carbon under extreme heat. Its called a hyperdiamond. It doesn't have diamonds looks though. It looks more like asphalt or the stones at the bottom of a fish tank. Following the hardness test, which pretty much is if it leaves a scratch then it is harder, it leaves scratches on diamonds.

Moving on, the loudest thing in the ocean is not the biggest. Its not even medium sized. The loudest thing in the ocean is actually shrimp. In fact they are so loud they can white out sonar from a sub so nothing can be heard around the shrimp besides them. This is what happens. The shrimp get into a large group and they start to snap their claws. Its not the snapping that makes the noise though. On the shrimps claws their is a groove on one side and a bump on the other so when they snap their claws water shoots out at 62 miles and hour. This creates bubbles that when they slow down and pressure takes over they pop and create the noise as well as heat and sometimes light. The noise registers at 246 decibels in water and in air that is 160  decibels. At jet taking off is 140 dB. They use this noise to stun predators and find mates. Besides giving OS' a headache the noise can be heard through the hall of the sub and it can dent propellers along with the heat.

Polar bears are NOT left handed nor do they cover their nose to hide, but they do enjoy toothpaste. Apparently they are concerned about oral hygiene because polar bears have been known to trash camps all to steal toothpaste. I guess they can not hide as well if they have yellow teeth Roaming polar bears have become such a problem that the town of Chruchill in Canada has a polar bear prison.They hold their inmates until autumn or spring, the season that polar bears hunt in, and then they are released. This could be quite a few months. They can hold up to 23 polar bears at one time. Still, they do not have to feed them, since polar bears only eat in those season. I hope that they learned their lesson though. Toothpaste is our right as humans. Still makes me wonder what a polar bear jumpsuit would be. I guess the easiest thing would be just to shave lines on them since their skin is black. Also, all polar bears are Capricorns, being born in late December or early January. So this means I am a polar bear. Ha.

For those champagne drinkers out there, its not carbon dioxide that makes champagne bubble. It is not the grooves on the glass that makes it bubble either. What makes champagne bubble is actually the dirt in the glass. Without the dirt and dust in the glass the carbon dioxide has nothing to bond to that creates the bubbles. So in theory, in a perfectly clean glass champagne will not bubble, only one with questionable sanitation with create the bubble that connoisseurs to desperately crave. Legally, now only sparkling wine created in the champagne region can be called champagne. Before 2006 any created in the US could have the same name. This is takes to a treaty with the European countries that states that only champagne from that region can be called as such. The US signed no such treaty and the treaty that they did sign that stated such, the treaty of Versailles that ended WW1, stated that it was only European countries. In 2006 the US accepted that ban so any sparkling wine made after 2006 can not be called champagne.

The guillotine was not invented in France. It was actually invented in Halifax Yorkshire and was pretty much beams of wood and an axe that came down with a rope attached to a pulley system. How the guillotine got to France was due to the Dr Joesph Ignace Guillotine. He hated public executions and thought that it was completely unfair that the poor should be hanged which was messy and could fail to work thus causing more suffering and the rich were beheaded. He suggested that things should be equal and that was what made the french take the idea and run with it. They gave the device a new name and sadly a new face. Also, despite what your histroy teach may have told you, the good Dr was not beheaded. He died from infection. The last person killed by the guillotine was killed in 1977. It was officially abolished in 1981.

For the moment that is what I will leave you with.

Giraffe in the jungle.

So if you go to a party store that sells supplies for kids parties you will not have to look very hard until you see a Jungle Party theme kit. Though I have yet to got to a kids party that actually used that theme, they are always there. Always. There is always a banner that says something like"Jungle Fever" of something equally cliche. In that theme there are various animals, a tiger, an elephant, monkeys, a croc, a lion, and a giraffe. We all except this without question.

The problem is, where a tiger, Asian elephants, some crocodiles, and Indian lines can roam into jungles, there is something wrong. Giraffes do not live in jungles. Yet there are ALWAYS there. Every jungle theme EVER. Why? They would hit EVERY branch. They couldn't survive. So why? Why?

It seems fitting for how things are now. At the moment where I live is filled with BS high school drama. I hide in my rack but even still it finds me. These queens of drama want to circle me with lies and rumors until all truth is displaced and I die with their lies filling my chest. I am the giraffe surrounded by screaming monkeys.

I work down in the galley, at the moment, far from my real job. Its temporary but it last for 4 months. Its to the point where I no longer want to eat. Its horrible. It really is. I have seen food dropped on the floor and then served, I a aware that the beverage machines carry 2 year old syrup. I know that hygiene isn't that pressing, and no one cares. Again I am the giraffe, and there are so many other little things going on that I almost feel that I should start looking for spots and horns.

Soon, but not soon enough I will find my way back to the savannah were I belong. I have plans to get an apartment and possible a dog. I have been dreaming of both for so long now it just doesn't seem real. I found a place that online looks PERFECT.  I want it. I want it so bad. What is holding me back is a possible money issue. Still here is hoping for my savannah.

To those who would think otherwise:

 To those who do not know me, this will be quite boring. With luck the next post I will have found something interesting to write about once more. Please pardon me for stating something that needs to be said to the few that know my face.

Deep down I am not a good person. I do well to hide this fact, I even try, but I am not fooled. Call me arrogant, I have done so myself, but I am smarter than many. I know this. I try to hide it in a vain attempt to seem normal. Abnormal people get too much unwanted attention. That and I wouldn't dare let people I am close to see just how cold I really am. I wear a small amount of coldness to ward off the stupid and ever chipper. Once the person in question has passed those two qualifications than they are a friend. That is all. Just a friend. There are few that are closer, and even they have not seen my quite like this. At most they have seen me quiet. I pretend I am normal and in some way or another they all believe it. Sometimes I even believe that I am normal, not for very long though. Eventually something calls to my intelligence and I am reminded just how useless people can be, so stupid, and annoying.

I vent my intelligence into different formats, to better hide it. Why else would I learn all the presidents of the US? Of course there is the ever present sarcasm that I use. I vent and hide and it gets me through. I focus some of it through the very people I hide it from. They can be interesting at times, and they were my first obsession, but now that I have the key to most puzzles that they present, they seem boring and uninteresting, predictable at best. I dare not draw too much attention, but I dare not loose an ounce of my intelligence and potential. It is the siren call of intelligence that I am not immune to. It is then I am at my worse. I am cruel and uncaring. In short I am an ass and I know it, and I DO NOT CARE.

No one has seen me this way. I hide in isolation and if that is deemed impossible for the moment, then I don my mask and dance in the masquerade that is normalcy, all the while, waiting for the moment when I can strike off and examine what has caught my attention. Each call becomes a new obsession for me. Thankfully they are far between, everything else I handle on a normal level and all seems well. Its the puzzle that I must solve, the rush I love and hate, for it is addicting, and I must solve it. I hardly care what gets in my way, or what I must say or do to do so.

My intelligence is especially in people, social interactions, and what lies behind the day to day. I can read people, quite easily. My childhood was good for something after all I guess. I know what to say, how to act, how to stand, to act like I am just like them. Its second nature now. There is a simple pleasure in not thinking, just like them. Its how I made it through bootcamp. I turned my intelligence away and my social skills. It made it a lot easier. I was able to avoid a lot of the drama and frustration. The RDC were making decisions for me anyway, so why bother with thinking about how stupid it all was. It would do me no good, so why? Why make more than 3 friends? I was never going to see these people ever again and more than 3 was asking to bring how their pointless drama. Be-friend the people who mattered and screw everyone else. Simple.

The result was when I returned I was all the dumber. There was no avoiding it. Survival or insanity? Simple. I did my best to regain what I had lost, and now that I have been away from boot for almost a year I finally feel I have gotten most of it back. We all have our darkness and mine seems tied with my brightest light.

I have not reached my potential, my mental "growth" was stunted with the need to survive. That is how I am so cold to begin with. If I didn't learn that trick I would be dead now. I came close a few times before I just shut my emotions up. Children are not meant to be raised like that.

And with that I could have been so much worse. I could have quite easily become a sociopath. The true heights of my intelligence and what I could and couldn't be or have become I can only guess at. There is a lot I imagine I could be, but no proof and without said proof there is no point.  

And here I am on the side of angels as it were. Good intentions and an understanding of right and wrong do not make a good person. If needed be I'd shake hands with the devil, most likely for a good reason. It is because I understand one thing, I will never be pure, or innocent, or good, so why stain the hands of someone who is when my hands are already stained with sins. In a way that makes me good, if that is the way that you wish to see it, but I know better.I am no hero, I am no angel, I am no concerned citizen. At best I am demon with morals.

Odd facts and musings

There is an old Romani legend about watermelons that kill. Apparently if you leave a watermelon alone long enough it turns into a vampire. It still looks like a fruit but now it thirst for blood. In the night it causes all kinds of chaos, as they roll themselves and attack. They even growl. Its thought that they couldn't do too much harm to people since apparently they have no teeth so they weren't out right feared.Yet they still do attack and drink blood. It isn't sure if this was told as a fairytale nightmare, in the sames sense as the boogeyman, something adults laugh at but children are unsure of, or it was actually believed. The legend comes form that fact that an aged watermelon develops red spots on the skin or "blood". This only shows up right after the transformation, or right before. Apparently  its tied in with the lore that if you leave any inanimate objects out on the full moon it will become a vampire. Pumpkins and Watermelons are the most common, and it apparently takes 10 days for it to happen.

Still the next time you cut open a watermelon and you see that sweet pink inside, you have to wonder if it was always pink to begin with, or did you just kill a monster? Was your melon a killer and you are now drinking what you think is watermelon juice but is actually AB+ from some poor, blood drained farmer. Who knows, maybe the farmers are feeding the melons blood to begin with. Mmmm, delicious. Would that make
watermelon eaters cannibals, and if you feed watermelon to someone in need of blood would that help?

I guess its no worse than eating jello which is made of boil animal bones, tendons, and skins. Seriously. Anything with gelatin is most likely made of that. Gummy anything folks. I say this as I eat gummy worms. Yumm! Marshmallows get their names from marsh mallows, a plant found in swamps, and were made from the sap of said plant. The plant even has pink flowers. Today most marshmallows are made from corn syurp, starch, sugar, water, and gelatin.That is right, gelatin. Its everywhere. We probably have never had real marshmallows. What a rip off. Egyptians used the real deal to cure sore throats.

Marsh mallows. Yum!

My favorite fact, after watermelons of course. is that Tequila is perfect for making diamonds. It has the perfect amount of carbon, hydrogen, and oxygen. If you just heat up eighty proof to 1,400 degrees it makes a thin diamond film. Its too thin to make jewels, but it still is pretty cool. You are drinking liquid diamonds, and getting smashed. On the note of liqueur, in 2001 Belgium started a program that served beer with children's  lunches instead of sugary drinks like soda. The kids could choose between lager and bitter. The kids liked it. It was only 2.5 proof though. The beer club ran with it and said "Beer is for the whole family!" Indeed. Why wait to start an alcohol problem? I can just see those little tikes, slurring and staggering their way through their elementary days. Hey, they won't remember them anyway. But now, for some reason, they get the shakes during the summer, and they are WAY to excited for school to start.

tequila diamonds

yay! Drunk children!

Death by chocolate really can be. Chocolate is poisonous, though it takes a few pounds to kill you. The toxic part is the alkaloid thebromine, which  is mostly in bakers chocolate and dark chocolate. Chocolate is very toxic to dogs and they love chocolate, just like we do. I had a dog that was really bad about stealing chocolate. If there was any in the house she would find and eat it. The problem was she was way to smart. She once found a box of eight chocolate donuts and she ate them all, and then hid the box under the bed so we wouldn't find it.  For a dog it starts off with bad stomach ache and if they eat to much they die. The bigger the dog, the more it takes, which is why my Greyhound didn't die on the spot, or even get that sick from eating the donuts. She lived to eat a lot more chocolate until age caught up with her. Cats have the same problem but the thing is, cats have no interest in Chocolate. They do not perceive sweetness at all.  That is probably why cats are so mean and dogs are so sweet.

And for those that do not take the platypus serious know that the male of that species is poisonous. Its got a spur on the back of each hind leg that is 15 mm long. No worries. It isn't fatal, just very painful. Also, though it is a mamal, mother platypuses (one of the two correct plural  forms, the other being platypus) do not nurse their young. Well, not the way that we think of nursing. They excrete milk through pores through their abs. No nipples at all.

So raise your glasses of liquid diamonds in a toast to killer fruit and gummy bones. To the marshmallows that we will never eat and drunk elementary school kids. Here is to chocolate dogs and the dangerous platypus. Here is to what makes life interesting.  I hope I have brightened your day, and at least you realize how interesting our little world can be, if we look.

Obssesions

Forever driving us forward but they are hardly ever seen in a good light. They are seen as devils things that drive one down the path of sins and disparity. They are a marker of insanity, an unstable mind, restless and forever at work. Even the word has a bad connotation. I have never heard it used positively. Still, without obsessions we would have nothing. Inventions, discoveries, ideas, and ways of thinking, all come obsessions. They make us better in all ways. They are the fire to the human spirit. Something as simple as a comic book obsession can save a life, seriously.

Today I read of a 12 year old boy who saved his sisters life and his own because of the game World of Warcraft. I am Not kidding. They were attacked by a moose, which are seriously very deadly because of the giant horns on their heads and their seriously bad attitudes when in their territory, so the boy taunted it away from his sister and then played dead. He said that he got the idea to do that because of his character on the game and the skills that his character acquired on level 30. Seriously, this is true. Look it up.

Obsessions stir the mind and they mix, creating new ideas and paths. A comic book meets science and low and behold we have things that people laughed at, like most of what was on Batman's belt in the 50's. It was some kid that grew up thinking, I want what Batman has. Obsessions make a person who they are and it is just amazing. I know I have my only little concoction that go around and around in my head. So just think, all the people around you have their own little obsessions, their only little vices and virtues, that shape what they do and say . Half the fun is discovering them, they seem silly and childish, but your own appear the same way to them.

So why the bad reputation? As with everything, there are those who over indulge and they ruin things for everyone. 

its odd what triggers each person's imagination and yet it isn't. I know that bugs do not hold much interest in me and yet there are people devoted to the science. You just have to look and see for yourself.

My Shenandoah

My high school band played the piece Shenandoah I believe my sophomore year. My father later remarked that he always liked that song. He said that the song sounded like the south, laid back and easy. I now find myself far away from my once home, in a totally different place filled with odd people. I don't hate it, but I am not too sure that I like it. So many people, all trying to go one way on streets only big enough for two at a time. Who ever though of that was silly to say the least. People are so much impatient, so much more ready to fight, and all courtesy has gone out the window. They are all just to angry for that.

I'm not homesick. Not in the least. I do not miss the heat and the stupidity. I do not miss the boredom and the pointlessness. There are things to do, there are new things to experience, and new ideas. More people means new points of view. No longer are there bible thumpers on the corner of every street, screaming their views as cars pass by, wearing full suits in 90 degree weather.

Its all so complex and new. I love my job, I even like some of the people, I'm just not too sure of the location. I want my own Shenandoah. The south just never seemed that way to me. It was never laid back. It was filled with people that had narrow views and judgments, that is expect for my few friends. It was all I knew and now all so different. Freedom helps I guess. I finally get my own choices.

So here I am, starting this new year of my life in a new place with new people and new experiences.

So I pose a question. Is how you start a new year dictate how it will turn out? Does kissing your love mean a good year to follow? Does starting with anger mean a bad one? Is your whole year decided in a moment? That one minute states how it will all end? Last year started with a missed kiss. My Fiance couldn't make it in time and that is how I year continued. We just kept missing each other and only saw one another in stolen moments. A missed opportunity at college led me to my job in the military. A missed friendship led me to a new, close one, and yes I am talking about my Angel. Could it really be that simple or is the universe just fucking with me.

well hopefully this peace will hold out as I sit with my sister and bro in law watching movies, but if we keep watching comic movies then I doubt it. Seriously, argue with the comic obsessed geek about comic books? Really?

I just want my Shenandoah. My laid back and easy peace. No family drama, and as little work drama as I can get away with, Freedom, I want my simple easy freedom. My Shenandoah.

Truth in advertising.

I am leaving the only place that I have really know for the last 19 years in a few days. Finally. I have longed for and wanted this for so long it is almost unbelievable that I will ever really leave. In the next three years I will have left the country, made tons of new friends, played in snow for the first time, hit legal drinking age, get married, and have my own place. I will have also missed Christmas for the first time as well as a slew of other birthdays and holidays.

I have so little family left that it makes it hard to care. It makes it hard to miss all the disappointment and hurt. Every year every holiday is the same thing over and over. we all awkwardly try to pretend we care though it is obvious that most of us do not. My older brother is spoiled, I'm forgotten, and my nieces and nephews run free. Once you are an adult Christmas sucks. Everyone pretends its "so hard" to shop for you just so they do not have to put in the effort. Excuses. I'm tired of it. Really I am so simple to shop for. Get something Batman related. I will be happy. It is that easy, but no, my older brother gets 200 dollars (seriously) and I get a 20 dollar pj set that doesn't fit, because my mom thinks I am 20 times fatter than I am, and of a character I do not even like that much. Awesome. Then she seriously has the nerve to say "Well I though of you." to justify it.  Yeah, pjs  are the same as 200 dollars. Totally fair. She even gave more money to my brother than she did my sister who is a stay at home mom with three kids who is having a hard time making ends meet.

It is just the fact that I have to act like I so wanted those pjs and by not saying otherwise, its like I approved of the injustice.  The fact that I can not even voice how unfair that is angers me. I gave the pj set to my sister, as soon as my mom walked out of the room, who loves that character even though she doesn't fit it either. She loved it. I sit there and labor over getting the perfect gift because I actually care, and my mom picked up pjs the day before and didn't even bother to wrap them because even that was too much of an effort. I am so sick of disappointment. I am sick of gifts that I don't want that I have to pretend I like. I am sick of the "HERE." attitude that prevails, instead of excitement. When did it all become a hassle? 

It just depresses me. My birthday is the worse. Most of the time my only present is the cake itself, which my dad and my bother eat half of,  and yet my brother pretty much gets whatever he wants on his birthday. He is 2 years older than me, has no intention of moving out, barely makes any money at a job that he has been at for 6 years, and then spends it all on trips to Atlanta instead of making any means of saving it. His major is art but he doesn't want to be an artist, nor does he actually know what classes he really needs or how many hours he needs to get that degree. My mom took my other sisters' college pre-paid plan that she set up for all of us from her so she could give it to my brother because his is almost out.  My dad is sure that he will live with my parents until he is 30, and my mom will let him get away with it.

I am a sailor in the US Navy. I only come home on weekends. I pay for my own things and I end up doing everything my mom is too lazy to do, like wrapping presents, getting the mail, doing the dishes, ect. I dream of becoming a doctor and I have the means to pay for it myself without the prepaid plan, though I will for sure use that too. I am happily engaged, desperate to get out from under her, and I can take care of my own business.  I  am even leaving at the end of the week to join the fleet on my ship, CVN 77.  I won't even be in the same state as her for the next three years, yet my mom didn't even want to do an early Christmas with me. My dad had to make her.

I am just so sick of this place and my family. Why should I be upset that I will miss Christmas and my Birthday? Why? The only person I actually want to be with is my sister, and on holidays she has to be the peace keeper, not my sister. I am sick of the false pretenses, and the whole stupid game of it all. I get it, no one wants to be with one another. That is why no one puts any effort in at all.

It will be nice not having to do everything for a while. This was the first year I didn't have to put up the tree by myself because no one else cared to. This was the first year that my family actually sat down to watch White Christmas without me dragging them to do so. The first year that I wrapped only my presents. The first year that I actually looked forward to my birthday, knowing that I probably will be working that day. I'm actually happy to. I'll even work Christmas. Who cares. People long ago stopped caring about spending Christmas with me.

I just want it to be done. I am tired of the hurt. I am tired of being lonely surrounded by my family. I am tired of the lies and the disappointment. The disappointment is the worst. Somehow I always convince myself that somehow this year will be different, that somehow I might even have a good time, and then I end up crying my eyes out for a few hours alone in my room and no one notices. Then I have to dry my eyes, and drag everyone into the living room to do the one of two traditions we do every year. We watch White Christmas, but we don't even do that. I drag them into the room for minutes at a time and then they are gone to their own respective corners once again. My sister tires, she really does, but she can be just as bad. She just doesn't seem to understand that I want a family, not to be alone, for Christmas. I want hugs and laughs and kisses, but somehow I get none of that. That is what I want for Christmas and my birthday, happiness. Apparently that is all out this season.

So please, send me away. Please. It would be kinder.

My love is away at college and has to work over the season, and there goes my only joy.

Let me leave and start this new thing. Let me work so others can go home to loved ones. Mine don't want me anyway. They have yet to really try to spend any time with me before I leave and the only one who has a real reason for why she can't is my sister and that is because she has children, which is totally fine. My bother hardly cares, my dad, who is home all day, stays in his computer room and says 2 words to me all day. He says that "family is so important to him", that he really cares, but he is such a hypocrite! He obviously doesn't give a shit either, and yet he has has my sister eating out of his hand. She even sits there and actually believes that he cares, knowing that he tried to put me in foster care at age 16 because I was depressed. He made no move to get me any kind of help, like he tells everyone that he would. "if you ever have a problem, I'll always help." My mom is even worse, but no surprise there. My oldest brother I haven't seen since I got back from Boot Camp and he lives 15 minutes away. So fuck them. FUCK THEM! I'm tired of it. SO tired of it. They are all lies.

Right now, I only care for Michelle and the kids.

I feel so lonely and upset because no one will make the effort. I am thankful for every single one of my friends and my sister. I am thankful for my job and the people I get to work with. I am thankful for my loving fiance and his great family. I am thankful for so much, I truly and honestly am. I know that I have gotten some things that others would love to have, but  most of my family is not included. I try and try to be thankful for them, to see the silver lining because I know that I am lucky, but I have had it. All they give me is heart break.

Not sure how this turned into a rant about my family but whatever. I guess I needed to say it. My last two post have been quite angry. Sorry for the change in program folks. The holidays do that to me, if you couldn't tell.

So happy holidays from my island of loneliness and isolation. 

To My Straightjacket Of Old.

Thanks for never being there, for brainwashing me, nearly killing me inside. You stole my life away, my thoughts, my dreams, my heart, and my sanity. Now don't that sound like a real friend. You seemed to want to crush me down farther and farther, and then when you could never quite seem to kill me, you would build me back up just to try all over again. You scared me and I still feel those scars, and I want to thank you for that.

Today, I am fine without you. I let go of you. It took me two years, but I am done. I am done with you, and your expectations and your lies. Even in leaving you tried to keep me down. You said it was me. You said that I was to blame for it all, as if you were too good to have any blame, as if  your hands could never be stained. You lied. You lied and lied and lied. You tried to poison me and it worked for 2 years. You acted like it was so easy for you, and that is because it was. You never cared for me and you used me. There is just no excuse.

I am done. You are never coming back. Never. You lie, you put on a show, like you always do, and then it starts all over. Well fuck you. I have wanted to have the strength to say that and mean it, and now I do. You are a user and a lier. You would think I know what that looks like by now, but then again, I have never seen someone put 7 years into a destruction. I actually hate you. You took all the love that I had, the closeness and the devotion to my "sister" and you manged to twist it to hate. Bravo. It takes some doing. It really does. I HATE YOU! I admit it.

I give up on this love. I give up on this "friendship", and I give up on you. You are no better than the rest of my family. They only wish to use me just like you. They do their best to tear me down, just like you. Silly me, I was looking to the wrong "sister" for seven years. You are a horrible person. You are vile and wretched. It hurts to admit that I hate you because you have me so brainwashed that I feel as if it is my fault you are this way. I actually feel like it is my fault that YOU did all of this.

What did I ever do but love you? You would twist and twist that knife into my back until I snapped and then it would all be my fault. You are a cancer. You are all that is bad in the world. You took and took and took. I named you something so scared and you took that too, all the while calling me the villain. No more. I am done with your shackles. I am done with your chains. I blame your reticence. I didn't I paid for merely a masquerade so I want my money back. I will no longer hang on your every word, just to be stuck in the silence for months on end. You aren't worth it. I choose you over my real sister who loves me and I will NEVER make that mistake EVER again.

I wanted you to apologize for a while, and just admit that you were to blame for some of it. I played in your circus of silence for so long, hanging from your tight rope. You will never use that word. You know that I do not like it, and that is because it is never used with any meaning. Never by you. All your words are dipping with your agenda. I am not the one who went and made a mistake, YOU did. Words are no use, you don't need them unless you want to twist them. It was never the curtain call that separated us. We were going off to do great things but we could have stayed close. No, you wanted to hurt me once more in the most epic way you could. You don't want me to achieve. You want me forever under your thumb and when I couldn't be you wanted me destroyed.

Why should I ever expect anything human from you? You will never be sorry. Never. You tear those you love down for the fun of it. I hope that you are always alone. I hope that someones does the same to you. I hope that the last two years have been hell for you. I hope you realize just what you gave up. I hope that nothing has changed in your love of drama, but this time you can't use my better sense of judgment to make it all go away when it is too much. I hope you get your heart broken just like you broke mine. I am tried of loving you and getting nothing for it. I am tired of being so abused. I am tired of your bullshit. Go to hell now, for all I care. Your pride will never let you call me, or even ask for help, help that I would have gladly given,  so only you are to blame. I hope the worst for you. I do not even want you at my wedding. You will destroy something so beautiful and something so happy for me. You do not deserve to be by my side EVER again. I never want to see you and I curse your name. KELSEY ANN PAULES FUCK YOU! I name you and hate you. No longer are you in my shadows. No longer will I dare protect you vile name. Let everyone see who you really are.

You had something so beautiful in me and you ruined it, and that in itself is worse than what most have done. I loved you, truly and honestly. You write letters and notes, claiming that I am the one so foul but we both know it was always you. You love it. You love to cause suffering. He is right, you really are soulless. Soulless and heartless. You deserve much more than what has been said here. It takes so much for me to hate, but you have done so. You are evil. There is nothing more to it and I will allow myself to say it. I will no longer hold back the words that I have seemed to be doing for so long.

How is it up on your high horse? If the moment ever rolls around you might want to take a look down because you are not so far from the ground. You aren't my hero, you are my villain. Don't try to act like you aren't. Don't try to put on the mask and pretend. I am not answering. You tried to kill me with your maybes. I will not beg to be at your back door any more. The fact that I want you hurt so bad should speak volumes.

So thank you. I was so happy with life. I was in love and I was moving up in the world for the first time. Thank you for tearing it all down and reminding me just how far I could fall. Thank you for breaking my heart and showing me that even some people I can not forgive. I tired so hard but I can't. I can't even wish you the best. Thank you for leaving my life. Thank you for never coming back. Thank you for all the pain that you caused so I could learn that some friends aren't friends.

And if  you want my apology then here it is. I am so sorry that you lie, that you play games, that you hurt people,  and that I thought you loved me. I am sorry that you are addicted to being cruel and using people. I am sorry that you think that you are so much better than everyone, and that I was never good enough for you. I am sorry that I trusted you and that I ever let you in my life. I am sorry that I allowed you to use me. I am sorry that I ever think of you in a positive light. I am sorry it took me so long to hate you. I am sorry that I EVER loved you.

Who am I kidding? Sorry has nothing to do with you.

 You were right, everything was so fake between us. You would know, after all. You were the reason it was. How could I not see that?

My final apology is that I am so sorry that I am too good for you.

I denounce your world and your lies with a bottle of kerosene. Sweet dreams in hell.

The Vial age

It is sad that the power of words seems to be lost on the general public as a whole. There was once a time when words had meaning, real meaning, and were used to paint the world. They showed emotion, and there was a beauty to it all. Such beauty should not be tarnished with such trifles as "holla" and "dawg".

But alas, we are in the age of vulgarity. Where once was the great Enlightenment is follows that we must fall from the heights that we reached. After all, what goes up must come down. Still, the loss of language was not all we lost. Chivalry is a casualty as well. Even the best "good old southern" boy is no where near as gentlemanly as the gentlemen once were. Isn't it sad that the upper class have forsaken their once cherished ideals, and passed them on to there "subordinates" as they do with all their discards. They no longer embraced the ideals that ones before them would disown them for not following.

We are in the age of obscenity, boorishness, and the meretricious. Those that are in love with beauty, passion, and truth are left to suffer. We see glimpses in odd moments, but they go as fast as they come. We are supposed to be far more advanced than we were 100 years ago. Just look at how far we have come with technology, but the cost was a big one. We sold our soul so we can sit on socla networks all day, and get mad because someone didn't "like" something. For, we truely are the in the Viral age. All the obsenities infect us, making us sick with it, and we forget what there once was.

Somethings should not be instantantious. Letters to a love one should never be. They should be thought over,  written,  scratched out, and written again. They should be labored over and felt. Emails and texts do not show that emotion, they do not bear the scars of one who truely cares for recipient. Letters bring us close, they are written by the hand of the dear one. Emails are written by a computer, and where they look like they bring us close the impersonalness drives us apart.

This age is nothing but a spiarl down in human spirit. We give rise to cold, impersonalness, and discard the truth and beauty in words. We spiarl down as we congraulate ourselves on our depravity.

Can we not have both? Can we not rise once again?

I am sure that we can but then again I probablly not be alive to see it because we have not hit rock bottom and that initself is scary. Is there no level we will not fall to? Is there not one thing we will not throw away in the name of a better future? What is next? But that is ever the question and when we stop asking that question we have truley hit the bottom because there will be nothing left.

To Our Destroyers

An ode to our destroyers is in order. Though I myself could never be one, I do see their value. Stand assured I have NO intention of destroying anything, except of course quite possibly a delicious cake.

Though horrible and cruel, though vicious and vile, destroyers have their place in our far from perfect world. They kill, thus taking away a human life, but as they do so, they also teach us the value of said life. We value our own and those around us so much more. No more are there forgotten birthdays and holidays lacking family. They teach us how to be human, while doing the exact oppisite. Without comparison how can you tell light is light? Light needs dark just as we need destroyers.

So a world of heroes would be quite the horrible place to go. A world of light would pounce on any slight shade, any slight difference, preceiving something more than what was actully there. Rules would be vicious and cruel while giving the air of justice and honor. A world without freedom, and justice without freedom is doomed to fail. A world where everyone must be a hero is a world without sincerity. It becomes a world of duty and not a world of love. People do as they must, not because they could.

Smiles behind bars so lovley. A cage of gold is still a cage in truth. One that is so much harder to escape. No one will understand evil, no one will understand the things that they guard against. Temptation is more seductive without our destroyers there to blacken our stage. Sins are only sins because we know what they mean. We know what happens when we indulge. Sins of the evil therefore make us all that much more honest.

Our dear destroyers set the contrast as we set the brightness.

As they induldge we appall, and thus we complete each other.

They are our bastards, our villians, our virulent dictators, and persons most foul. They are the scum, and yet they are the saviors of us all though it may not seem as much. They save our humanity as they waste their's away. They show us how low we can fall, and thus how high we can go. God needs the devil, and we need our terrorist. We will never applaud them, we will never congratulate them, nor will we give them the time of day.

So I toast them. I give them few precious words, but I will speak of them no more. They belong in our shadows as we belong in their light.

So be gone destroyers. Ave atque vale. Go back to your shadows.

Rorschach's Journal

We are all our own little ink blots. Random creations, mistakes even, and each different from the last. All are judged upon sight from society. There is a symmetry to us all that is really only unique to each person, no matter how mundane or disturbing.

I guess its a more interesting way of saying we are all snow flakes. At least more acurrate.

For starters, none of my friends melt. Granted, I have never been friends with the Wicked Witch of the West.

Snowflakes seem so beautiful and people aren't. We really are a cruel and selfish race. Don't get me wrong, there is good in us, but as a whole we are far from kind. Just look what humanity has done to the rest of the earth to better itself, and on a person by person basest there are a lot less "beautiful" people than "ugly". Snowflakes are only skin deep. They just are, and there is no meaning behind that.

Ink blots are rough, and seemingly random. They can look ugly, beautiful, and everywhere inbetween. They represent something, something good or sinister. They have the potential for both. I have yet to meet an evil snowflake though that would be both interesting and possibly scary.

So we are all ink blots my friends.

I wonder what I would look like as an ink blot? I doubt I'd be that butterfly one though I do like bats.

So, I just looked at a whole bunch of them to try to figure it out, and I just saw something cool. The one that is supposed to be an animal hide I see the top of Big Ben/a sky scraper of some sort. I guess since that is the Father card I want to blow up my father.  I blame V for Vendetta. That or it could mean something along the lines of Gotham and Batman. Either way, my mind has been corrupted by comics.

You see it now too, don't you?

There I go again, corrupting more innocnet minds. Ah well, you had it coming eventually. I now can't stop staring at it.

What was I saying.......Oh yeah, we are all ink blots, free to be interpreted and judged completely wrong or right. The difference is the ink blots themselves are innocent, they can not control what people see in them. We can, and sadly some of us don't try to better themselves in anyway. They are more concerened by making sure that everything looks just the way they are told they are supposed to be. Those are the people most like snowflakes. Those are the people that want to BE snowflakes instead what they actually can be.

Snowflakes suck. Screw you snowflakes.

Its odd to talk about ink blots and not immediatly to go Watchmen, but up until now I managed. If only people could live as black and white as he did. But we can't. People aren't black and white, well some people are (haha). We are grays layered upon grays, forever reaching toward either black or white, but never really getting there. So why reach? Why not embrace the grey? Why try to fall in line with every commandment of society, or completely rebel all the time aganst every little thing? Why not just be? That seems to be a really hard thing to understand now a days. There is no big hammer that will smash you if you do something society merely frowns upon, like cutting in line, but there is one if you kill someone.

Everything inbetween the ink and the paper is whatever you want it to be. Whatever you want to see, and that is freeing.

Take that Snowflakes!

Iron-y!

All the years that I have spent on this earth, and they are few, I have come to believe that the world is run on irony. The more the idea bounces around in my head the more sure of it I am. No, I do not mean verbal irony for all you English nerds out there who are probably smugly stating to their computer screens, as they correct my grammar of course, that there are three types of irony. No, I am sure that the world runs on situational irony and, only if there is a God, which I am highly suspect, dramatic irony.

I'll wait a few moments for the non-English nerds to figure out what the the hell I am talking about.....Okay.

Situational irony is when the result of an action is contrary to the desired or expected effect. For example, the fact that the song Ironic by Alanis Morrisette is not in itself ironic, but merely misfortunate creates irony. Add the fact that this was probably obtained accidentally (the irony that a song about irony isn't ironic) and that just adds more fuel to the fire. That song probably genertaed enough power the idea of jumbo shrimp.

Now, take a moment to think about the events in your life, and in no time you will start to believe in my theory.

Dramatic irony is when words and actions possess a significance that the listener or audience understands, but the speaker or character does not. So if there is a God, which again I am highly suspect, he is watching and mostly likely laughing his ass off. Which in a way seems cruel, and usually I am one for cruel things, to a point, if they are funny, but even I am not that heartless. Would that make God akin to the Joker? That would kind of explain a lot, and does pose some intertesting thoughts. Hmph. Taking the idea further, would that then make Jesus Harley Quin? Sorry to bash some religious views but it is an intresting thought and it does seem to make a eerie sense to me.

God as the Joker.  Purely in things for the amusement of himself. There is no plan, no greater idea then the direct problems before him and how to make them oh so fun. Thus, in turn, creates chaos in which he takes a special delight in because the end goal is really to teach that there really are no rules, no real consequeces, for our actions in the end. We all can do whatever we what and this is really nothing more than the Land Of Do As You Please. We just have to open our eyes to see it. See "Mister G"

And that is where Jesus comes in. Taking all the abuse that Mister G throws his way for the sake of being near him and his "love". And it makes sense that "Mister G" laid down some rules. How else would people learn to break them? Dear dear Jesus just does his best to do whatever he is told to by God not really understanding much of the "plan" himself.

 I am, obviously, quite the comic book nerd.

This is the part where my fiance would point out, to break the mood and try desperatly to get back on topic, that the world runs on iron (as in the center of the earth) and that is it in fact "iron-y". Please feel free to roll your eyes at that. I usually do, but hey, I love him for it.

Whatever the case may be, the "energy" that makes things "happen" has to come from somewhere so why not something that seems to amazing abudent. Why else would everything have to end so painfully ironic? Which, by the way, if energy is not either created or destroyed is the exception to that God?

Well its late and I do have work tomorrow. Sadly I am not paid to think up humorous things all day, though I do that too.

Ave atque vale.