Bistromath

#$!^&%

2006-09-27T12:36:00.000-07:00

I have recently come up with a new swear:

Curse dammit.

Because of my intelligence-challenged lifestyle, I am required to use it almost hourly. I find it very useful in all kinds of situations. Most importantly, it does not make any sense.
Curses themselves do not damn. God damns. I am trying to think of some other things that damn, but so far, nothing. Maybe the devil. However, I'd like to think that if the devil damns you, it would be a double negative and you would go straight up to heaven again.

For a milder, more watered-down oath, I use the Dave Chapelle (or perhaps the The Cheat) "Meh."

Examples from real-life conversations:

--Fried_blue, you are generally bad at mathematics.
--"Meh."

--Fried_blue, you are generally bad at making up swears.
--Curse dammit!

A Blog Limerick

2006-09-25T10:47:00.000-07:00

I hate my blog.
Reading it makes me want to curl up in a log.
It is the blogosphere's weakest cog;
I want to fill it with egg-nog,
And then feed it to my dog--
Who I would then take for a jog.
If my name was Rodger, I'd go by "Rog"
WTF is a pollywog?
This limerick also makes me want to sogb.

(Limerick ends here)
There you go. No regular meter, weak rhyme scheme.
If you see a guy taking his dog out for a jog on the street today, he might not look like it, but he could be having blog problems on the inside.

The dog might possibly have bits of circuit coated with dried eggnog dangling from its mouth.

If you enjoy your health, give this guy some space.

lillies

2006-09-22T22:42:00.000-07:00

Okay, yeah, well I forgot to take down the poem. I know. I'm a poetry nerd. It might help to say that I was required to memorize it. But then again, that might be even more weird.

Oh well. I'd also like to point out that I mispelled "lilies". But then, who really considers how lilies are spelled. It's not like they toil, or even spin. Stupid flower in the stupid river. Stupid me trying to be clever with quotes I half know. I wish we could go back to the time when English was the bastard son (or daughter) produced by Latin's one-night-stand with those barbarian tribes. No dictionaries or spelling rules. It would be great, awesome, and cool.

I was thinking the other day what it would be like to play Scrabble with Shakespeare. It would create a paradox, wouldn't it? He could make up any word he needed, for example, "boying." It makes a kind of sense, but its not a word. So you would challenge it, and get out the dictionary. Sure enough, "boying" would be in there, and right under the definition would be an example from a famous play called The Tragedy of Anthony and Cleopatra by guess who. So he would get a triple word score (which is even worse because of the "y") and you would lose.

I'm not sure if anyone can follow me through that. I can't. I tried to re-read it for any mistakes, got to the Stupid part and gave up in despair.

Hey, do you know what's good and tasty? Peppered chicken fillet. Delicious.

Random Poem

2006-09-17T22:51:00.000-07:00

This is a random poem. I will delete it sometime tomorrow.

A Musical Instrument
by E. Browning

What was he doing, the great god Pan,
Down in the reeds in the river?
Spreading ruin and scattering ban,
Splashing and paddling with hoofs of a goat,
And breaking the golden lilies afloat
With the dragonfly on the river.

He tore out a reed, the great god Pan,
From the deep cool bed of the river;
The limpid water turbidly ran,
And the broken lilies a-dying away,
And the dragonfly had fled away,
Ere he brought it out of the river.

High on the shore sat the great god Pan
While turbidly flowed the river;
And hacked and hewed as a great god can,
With his had bleak steel at the patient reed,
Till there was not a sign of the leaf indeed
To prove it was fresh from the river.

He cut it short, did the great god Pan
(How tall it stood in the river!),
Then drew the pith, like the heart of a man,
Steadily from the outside ring,
And notched the poor dry empty thing
In holes, as he sat by the river.

"This is the way," laughed the great god Pan
(Laughed while he sat by the river),
"The only way, since gods began
To make sweet music , they could succeed."
Then, dropping his mouth to a hole in the reed,
He blew in power by the river.

Sweet, sweet, sweet, O Pan!
Piercing sweet by the river!
Blinding sweet, O great god Pan!
The sun on the hill forgot to die,
And the lillies revived, and the dragonfly
Came back to dream on the river.

Yet half a beast is the great god Pan,
To laugh as he sits by the river,
Making a poet out of a man;
The true gods sigh for the cost and pain--
For the reed which grows nevermore again
As a reed with the reeds in the river.

Hallucinations

2006-09-13T11:57:00.000-07:00

New Post this post is new

In the sweet summer of 2005, I had my wisdom teeth removed. They put me on a pill that was supposed to make the pain seem distant.

While on the pill, I sat in my bed feeling nauseous and watched a calendar picture. The calendar was across the room. The picture was of a sail boat. The boat was moving.

The boat was sailing to Europe. I knew this because the boat was moving in an eastwardly direction. This was a vessel on a mission, rising and falling with the swells of the ocean. I was listening to the Beatles (1 album) on my cd player. This made me confused. Am I an American dreaming that I am European, or a European dreaming I'm an American? For a while, while staring intently at the moving ship, I puzzled over the difference between flats and bungalows.

Then I threw up.

I will never again do drugs.
But the boat thing was kind of cool.

George

2006-09-12T18:43:00.000-07:00

Richard (soon to be III)

Brother, good day. What means this armed guard
That waits upon your Grace?

Clarence
His Majesty,
Tend'ring my person's safey, hath appointed
This conduct to convey me to the Tower.

Richard
Upon what cause?

Clarence
Because my name is George.

(1.1.43-50)

This is the best I can come up with today out of the big green book of Shakespeare. Even if you didn't think it was funny at all, at least typing it brought me some amusement. Oh no. Spoiler alert...

George/Clarence eventually gets stabbed with daggers. Actually just one dagger. The other murderer chickens out at the last minute. It just gives me an inexplicable satisfaction to say "stabbed with daggers."

Don't get the wrong idea. Many of my relatives are still alive and healthy and free.

In conclusion, the coffee I drank earlier was mislabled. Certain it was not caffinated. I feel really tired and brain is not working.

Stabbed with daggers.

Words

2006-09-11T21:13:00.000-07:00

Here's the Shakespeare for the day. Again from Richard II.

Duchess of York
Say 'Pardon' first, and afterwards 'Stand up'.
An if I were thy nurse, thy tongue to teach,
'Pardon' should be the first word of thy speech.
I never longed to hear a word till now.
Say 'Pardon', King. Let pity teach thee how.
The word is short, but not so short as sweet;
No word like 'Pardon' for kings' mouths so meet.

York
Speak it in French, King: say 'Pardonnez-moi'.

Duchess of York
Dost thou teach pardon pardon to destroy?
Ah, my sour husband, my hard-hearted lord
That sets the word itself against the word!
Speak 'Pardon' as 'tis current in our land;
The chopping French we do not understand...

(5.3.110-122)

Is it just me, or does this sound familiar? This whole "pardon" thing goes on for half a scene. Maybe I've watched Pirates of the Caribbean a few too many times. But it does seem to go the same direction, with roughly the same word.

Which reminds me, National Talk Like a Pirate Day is coming up in less than a fortnight. Owww. What's that? It was just the last non-nerdy part of me shriveling up and dying. I am now a complete nerd. A word nerd.
(nerdy self-conscious laugh through nose)

But then, you're reading my blog. Which of us is the bigger nerd?

Absence delineated

2006-09-09T12:51:00.000-07:00

Um...hi guys.

Maybe if I sneak in through this back door here, people won't realize I've been gone. Avoid the awkward apologies. I've been here all along, reading everything you've written. I just haven't commented, because of... my computer exploding. That's it. My computer, a Dell Inspiron, has unspontaneously combusted, just as I had predicted. I have somehow resurrected it, and am now typing on the charred black keys and looking through a cracked and broken computer screen. I won't try to explain. It has something to do with magic. You know, the type of magic that is banned from public libraries.

Sometimes my computer loads my crappy MS paint picture so that my face has different expressions. I think it depends on the server. When it loads through Internet Explorer, my eyes look really weird and star-like. Pixels can be evil little bastards. While loading today, I kind of looked like Derik Zoolander doing his pouty "look". Then the image corrected itself. Argh. It must be all the lines.

Enough narcissism. I am thinking about updating with a line from Shakespeare every day... just to give me something to write about. Today's line will be from Richard II. Several people get stabbed with daggers during the play, which makes it a highly recommendable read. Get ready to soak in the literature...

"There stands the castle, by yon tuft of trees" (2.3.53)

.

Are you a Republobluerocratialist?

2006-08-27T01:02:00.000-07:00

So apparently "Blue" means Democrat, a fact that did not cross my mind when I named myself. I wonder how many people think I am a strong supporter of the democratic party.

How should I tell you this? I am equally jaded with both parties. I know this is an unpopular position to be in. Not only does it imply that I am a fence-sitter, it also means that I don't hate the Republicans more than I hate the Democrats, which seems to be considered a sin by most of the country right now.
Well, that just about sums up my political views. If I was cloned...well, if my ideas were cloned and put into different people's heads, which I realize is highly unethical, but I digress, if I was ideologically cloned several million times, I would have enough political power to form my own party. Its color would be blue. It would be called the Republobluerocratialists.

Try to say that word. Doesn't it just roll off the tongue? Take that, The Latin Language!
Our first order of business is to build a massive spaceport in the shape of a trapezoid!!!!
The next is to make a mockery of all languages, starting at the most ancient and working our way forward!!!
Then we shall watch several Kung Fu movies on our giant propaganda television!!
For our penultamate order of business, we shall learn to perform that weird little Neck Dance that the Penguins of the Arctic do!
Finally, we shall fry blue eggs and ham and distribute them to the populace.

Golly, don't all these things sound great? Remember to vote republobluerocratialist at your next ballet. Don't be a pundit!

A story, or something

2006-08-22T23:54:00.000-07:00

This is a true story. It is simply amazing. And amazingly simple.

Once upon a time I posted a comment upon someone's well-known blog. Over time, it became apparent that my comment would be the last comment, for the blog had moved on to bigger and better things, namely, the Present.

I felt a certain shame for my little comment. It was destined to go unanswered, unnoticed, unread throughout eternity. So great was my comment-consciousness that I decided to take action. Any action.

I went to the post that had my comment lamely dangling on at the end. I logged on as a made-up pseudonym. Then I proceeded to rip the previous comment apart with scathing wit. I felt little remorse for using someone else's blog as my playground of criticism. I was not fried_blue. I was a cold, multi-personalitied, suicidal monster bent on destroying its own kind.

I felt better after I had published the final comment. After all, I assumed that no sane blogger would suddenly take that much notice in someone else's comment, however bad or lame. Meanwhile, the post was out-of-date. My new comment was angry and sarcastic, attacking poor fried_blue as a person for no apparent reason. It had ME written all over it.

A couple of days later, I returned to the blog, and scrolled down for quite some time until I came to the fateful post. There was my one sad little comment, but nothing else. Thinking that a nasty someone else had written the mini-diatribe, the kind author of the blog had deleted it, effectively saving myself from humiliation by me.

Thank you.

forspacious

2006-08-20T01:10:00.000-07:00

There is craziness going on. There is craziness going on. There is craziness going on in this BLOG.
Tonight I watched this Kevin Costner movie called The Postman. You really don't have to see this movie if you've ever watched any two of the following three movies:

Water World
Open Range
Dances With Wolves

Like I said, just pick two of the three, combine them, and place them in a futuristic western United States. More simple would it be to say Water World with horses instead of jet skis. In all four of the movies, Kevin Costner, while off doing his own thing, ends up sticking it to the leader(s) of the unjust society. And it's never in an urban setting. That's more for Bruce Willis, or Keanu Reeves. No, Kevin Costner is a creature of the beautiful, forspacious skies. Field of Dreams? He's in his element.

Or so I'm led to believe by the five movies I can recall right now. I'll bet you could have a riveting movie based entirely on the premise of Kevin Costner being in some kind of metropolis.
I can just imagine the director of that film telling him, "What's that, Kevin Costner? Speak up, please, we can't hear your lines above the traffic noise! We aren't in Kansas anymore!"

From sea to shining sea, to alabaster city. Sorry, no jetskis or horses. And I haven't seen The Untouchables, so that one doesn't count.

Finally, as a kid, I honestly thought that "forspacious" was one big, happy word.

Hotblog

2006-08-16T13:12:00.000-07:00

Dang, it is hot. Summer afternoon. Not even common sentences do I feel like writing. Yoda sentences I must use instead. This does not help the fact that my computer might explode at any time. Wait- I need to figure this one out.

Help this does not the fact that explode my computer might at any time.

Well, this is not a fact yet, for the following reason. This morning I checked to see if my laptop's battery was of the type that explodes. Flipping it over, I felt a bit like I was ascertaining the gender of a small, boxy animal. Anyway, to my untrained eye, I did not see any indication of...batteries. Or a battery number. Or my computer's sex.

However, even if I was to find the Fateful Numbers stamped on my computer, the process of ripping out my computer's beating, warm (combustable) heart is a somewhat daunting task. There is a chance that I might get its fragile insides sweaty and infected with my human germs, and thus permanently sever the critical connection of the pulminary artery to the lungs and brain, or whatever.

Arrrrg. On a more happy note, my boom box is getting better reception: since it seemed to like human contact so much, I clothed its antenna with a fuzzy glove. Now, once again, I can clearly and distinctly hear the inspired(?) lyrics of the classic rock songs. Eeee...yeah. This leaves both hands free to type; in other words, to be ignited at any moment by my other problematic piece of crapnology.

It is too hot to make a good pun.

blog crickets

2006-08-16T00:46:00.000-07:00

There is this antenna on my radio. When I am adjusting it, there is no static. When I am not adjusting it, there is tons of static and I am unable to hear my classic rock station. Which I suppose is the way much of the rock music was intended to be heard on the radio, if my parents' historical accounts are correct.

Anyway, and this is what I learned in the logic unit of philosophy, the only way for me to continuously listen to static-free classic rock is perpetual adjustment of the antenna.

Which is what I'm doing now. I am typing with one hand. And adjusting the antenna with my other.
I know you think this is incredible.

Remind me never to try stand-up comedy. Because in my mind, this anecdote was funny, but now that I type it, I can just hear the crickets chirping. Blog crickets. Like little bites of information hanging out in the background, rubbing their leg-digits together to make a sad, soft technological hum. Blog crickets emitting sounds of static.

Good gosh, I wrote a better post when I was inebriated. And, in case you're interested, I did not end up gagging at that post itself. I gagged at the brainless, unruly knot of grammar I recklessly tied. I gagged at my appeal to the more sober types to help me untangle it. And when tomorrow comes, I will certianly gag at this knot metaphor.

blogging under the influence (slightly)

2006-08-13T00:20:00.000-07:00

H'okay, so
I don't normally drink and blog. But tonight is an exception. I have no doubt that this is going to be a fun writing experiment which I am going to re-read tomorrow and gag.*

On the upside, this blog can't possibly get any worse, even when the author has slightly impaired faculties. When hasn't there been a day when I look at my blog and remain gag-free?

See that? I had to work pretty hard to keep that last sentence from having a double negative. But I did it. (I hear someone in the back of my mind saying sarcastically, "Yeah, you should win a prize.") Shut up back of my mind. And I should get a prize. Meh.

With that slightly belligerent comment to myself, I find I have run out of things to blog about. Except for song loops. Man, do I hate song loops. Song loop. Song loop. Song loop. Where is the music coming from, anyway? Oh no, here comes the song I hate again. Song loop. Why won't they listen to me. We are all sinking into the morass of musical degridation with this repetitive system. It never ends. Son gloop will be in my dreams. Song loop.

* Does anyone think that this sentence should read a fun writing experiment at which I am going to re-read tomorrow and gag? I'm not going to read at it. But I am going to gag at it.

Why don't know.

2006-08-09T22:02:00.000-07:00

This post has no pictures. It is a boring post. Why are you reading it?

The fish thing got old. Old fish smell bad. There are few things worse than a dead fish. Well I can think of a lot more things. Yes. Why don't know.

That last sentence didn't make any sense at all. Why aren't I a normal blogger? Why don't I blog about the news? Not much to say.

Not so. Lots to say but no viable medium. Myself is what I mean. I come up with post themes. I blog in simple sentences. No one wants to get their news by reading simple sentences. Oh wait. Nevermind.

There are too many contradictions. (This observation includes the news and the previous paragraph.)

Its been a long time since I cared about what defines a simple sentence. I probably broke the rule on a few of them. Or cheated by dividing with a period instead of a comma.

Blogging like this is strangely calming.

Deep Sea Fangly Fish

2006-08-03T23:55:00.000-07:00

For today's lecture, lets move on to the subject of Deep Sea Fangly Fish.

Diagram I

Hey! Do you know why this fish above is so special? He is the first picture I've put on this blog that hasn't been created through Microsoft Paint. I know, now I'm going to lose my fan base...all those devoted Paint fans, I'm sorry, I've let you down. But to assuage your grief, here's something that could have been created through MS Paint:

Diagram II

The Deep Sea Fangly Fish in all its fangly glory, interpreted lovingly by the creators of homestarrunner.com (please don't sue me).

So now, hopefully you will see my inspiration for the last two posts...you know, all of that business about fiber-optic cable hair. This animal would be the perfect and logical predecessor of the modern fiber optic cable-haired human.

You don't agree?

Yeah, neither do I. The people would have to have a lot more fangs.

Diagram III

That makes a little more sense. Kind of.

Bluetooth Technology!

Now I'm just tired. But along with this weariness in my brain comes a little relief at having fixed Mr. Cool's smug little smile. Not so smug now, with all those obsolete teeth, eh?

I'm getting this feeling that maybe I need to protect my neck from now on. Class dismissed.

Fiber Optics II

2006-08-02T21:07:00.000-07:00

Roman numerals are cool. I should use them more often.
So today I want to see how well I can load pictures onto my blog. Because I'm thinking, just maybe, all this text is somewhat boring. Even if I do add in the occasional roman numeral, this blog leaves something to be desired.

Today I will answer the question: what would it be like if humans had evolved from a deep sea fangly fish? In the last post, I came to the conclusion that, instead of hair, the present-day human would be able to grow natural fiber optic cable-like material from their head. This material would be attached to nerve endings in the brain itself and would be able to interpret and transmit all of humankind's emotions in bright, cool looking colors.

Diagram I
Wow. I just learned how to move pictures so that they are not at the top of the post. Anyways, this guy is definitely cool. Not only does he have sideburns, which is a definite sign of coolness, but the fiber-0ptic hair follicles attached to his brain allow him to transmit this personal feeling of coolness to all the world.

However, that smug little smile is starting to annoy me. Let's move on.

Diagram II

Man, is this guy pissed. Though I don't know how much he can do about it with those stick arms he's got...his anger might stem from helplessness and impotency at having underdeveloped arms, but we must also take into account the disappointing fact that he has a mustauche. You know what? I am not going to look up how to spell mustashe. Because it is a stupid word. That guy should shave his mustache. Unfortunatly for him, I have already stated that his fiber-optic hair follicles are attached to nerve endings in his brain. I hadn't factored that in. Ouch. Headache.

Diagram III

There is nothing more indicative of the primordial state of the ancestorial deep sea fangly fish than the trauma of discombobulation.
This guy's synapses are all out of wack. He probably tried to read his first sentence too fast. But he does have a goatee. That, my friend, should help you sort out all the dichodomies and trichodomies that threw you into this confusion.

Diagram IV
No diagram IV. I just wanted to use the V. This concludes my interpretation of humankind's evolution from the deep sea fangly fish as an alternative to the coelacanth.

Fiber optics

2006-07-27T23:51:00.000-07:00

Okay, enough shameless, pity-me blogging. No one wants to read that. And I promise, I only quote Shakespeare when I'm really tired.

Unfortunately, I am always tired when I write in my blog, and when I'm tired I tend to feel sorry for myself. But when I drink coffee, as I've mentioned, I get this feeling of confidence, beliving that my prose sparkles with wit and that I am undoubtedly a well writer. Either way I am annoyed with myself by the next day.

What if our hair was made of fiber-optic cable, and we could use our heads to make it turn whatever color we wanted?

I think if humans had evolved from deep sea fangly fish instead of surface-swimmers, that would definitely be one of our traits.

SPORE IS GOING TO BE AWESOME!!!
Sorry about screaming. But it is. Going to be. It is going to be awesome. Will Wright is awesome. I need to stop.

42

2006-07-27T01:05:00.000-07:00

This blog is entering its forties, and is having a midlife chrisis. What number is this...forty two? A significant number to be thinking about the future of Bistromath.

There might be some kind of reincarnation pretty soon. That is, I'm starting to think about changing my name and making a new blog. An earnestly self-conscious thing...I don't know what other people think of me, but sometimes I read what I've written and it sounds like a ten year old boy with a dictionary.

And why not quit blogging here? Corey Hart Drives a Fiero (if I were smart I'd put a link here) is a great blog with an excellent and hilarious premise, and I know for a fact that it hasn't been updated in a month. So any lessor blog should be unafraid to follow to the final resting place in the dark, unknown regions of blog death.
'Tis a consummation
devoutly to be wished.

I wonder if blogs can dream. My blog would probably dream about the Knights of Ni.

...But the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will...

(would it be sacreligious to wonder if he intentionally made that last part a pun?)

Casual summer reading essay

2006-07-23T22:38:00.000-07:00

I think it's time to post again. But there is nothing to write about. I should really come into this page with the intent to write about something. Okay, I just thought of something.

I have finished The Sound and the Fury. I was not sure what was happening until midway through the book, when the writing style stopped being along the lines of:

...and i started writing in my blog and then i didn't feel like it what did she say she said everything has a reason and rosebushes else...

and became something that my brain could turn into a story.

I was trying to compare it to MacBeth, thinking that the title of the novel suggested shared elements with the play. But other than my wanting to strangle a majority of the characters by the end, I couldn't find how these two works of literature corresponded. Oh wait, part of the tale was told by an idiot. I get it now.

I am sure there was plenty of other allegorical material that went right over my head. For that reason, I will reserve judgement until I am old, wise, and know vaguely what I'm talking about. At this point in my life, I'm sorely disappointed that no one got stabbed with daggers or even decapitated. I really wanted Jason to get stabbed with daggers. That guy was way past uncool.

I don't like spam!

2006-07-21T03:14:00.000-07:00

Arrrg, someone has completely spammed my blog and I've probably got a virus from clicking on the stupid link to the casino advertisement. I feel so used.

"Super color scheme"? Okay. Yeah. Nice and...blue. Just about the most boring, non-original color scheme you can find on the internet.

"You are Nice...maybe you need some more pictures." I am not Nice. I am even less Nice when spampeople demand pictures of me. I have tried pictures. Well, okay, just one picture. It was Lame.

"I found it very helpful indeed." Indeed? Unless you were researching raw data for your project on Pointless Crap, I would find this statement very questionable indeed.

"Interesting website with a lot of resources and detailed explanations." You could at least lie in complete sentences. Be sure to site Bistromath in your annotated bibliography.

"Looks nice! Awesome content. Good job guys." The spampeople must have figured out my multi-personality disorder and congratulated accordingly. Good job, spampeople.

And thanks for giving me something to blog about. Arrrg.

Teeming with dialogue

2006-07-19T00:53:00.000-07:00

I am trying to read Faulkner's The Sound and the Fury. It is not going well. Evidently it consists of a retarded man telling his story mostly through the dialogue of other characters. Every so often there is a sentence in italics, and the setting changes to another time in the man's life. The problem comes in trying to figure out where in time the story has changed to. Is he 13 or 33? What's going on, a marriage or a funeral? Who is his friend and who is just pretending? Who is speaking? Wait, did the time just change again?

I am both intrigued and annoyed by modernism. It makes my head hurt. I'll probably end up liking the novel. Annoyed? Maybe stymied is a better word. I don't know, I've never used that word and thought I'd give it a try. Failure.

Next time I post I think I will use my exceptional skills as a motion picture critic to bemoan Disney's Pirates of the Caribbean: Sequel that Had Potential.

Pirates of the Caribbean: WTF Did Disney Fire One of the Writers

Update

2006-07-17T21:42:00.000-07:00

I was thinking today that it is of the utmost importance that I update my blog. Utmost. Man, I hate that word.

I was also thinking that today's society is characterized by situational collapsings and unused potential.

People come together, but nothing ever happens. We watch movies and call that interaction.

Inaction. It needs to stop being summer.

Muse

2006-07-04T21:52:00.000-07:00

The Association of Literary Deities regrets to inform fried_blue that his muse is dead.

The past few weeks, the muse had suffered greatly from general literary floundering.

The final blow was fried_blue's crushing defeat in the noble game of Scrabble. Fried_blue failed to secure even one triple word score.

As we are not totally heartless, we are replacing his muse with a plaque upon which is a moveable singing bass. A moveable singing bass, from whose mouth issues forth diamonds of inspiration such as:

Take me to the River (creak creak creak)
Put me in the Water (creak creak creak)

We offer our regrets and condolences. But mainly we just want you to get over yourself.

Happy 4th of July,
Literary Deity people

ceiling fan rendering

2006-07-03T17:24:00.000-07:00

Update on my life:
I just went to the hardware store to buy a new ceiling fan.

----(blank space)----

Now, if I wanted this blog to be popular, I might paste a picture of a ceiling fan in the space above. A nice, attractive, eye-catching ceiling fan. But that would be too easy. Instead, I will write you a paragraph describing the fan:

The aforementioned ceiling fan is nice, but lacks the attractiveness and eye-catching qualities of more expensive ceiling fans. It is white and has five longish blades that are curved at just the right angle for maximum cooling efficiency. The blades converge into a round center light that I fully expect will cast a cheery glow throughout the living room.

Well, that's my ceiling fan. At least I did not try to render it through Microsoft Paint.
Just now, I had to look up the word '"render" to see if I'd stretched the meaning too far. I mean, you can use "render" for works of art maybe, but sometimes it can get out of hand...

I will render this ceiling fan through Microsoft Paint.

I will render this ceiling fan through a descriptive paragraph.

I will render this ceiling fan upon a lofty ceiling!!!

le title

2006-07-01T22:26:00.000-07:00

I wanted to write in my blog today. I had thought of some not-as-lame-as-usual ideas. But now I am le tired.

So I will call upon the power of bullets.
like this one

"Lady-ing" is an awesome word. It does not belong on this site, it is so awesome. In fact, it belongs to homestarrunner.com, the Brothers Chaps, and the immortal Strongbad.
However, despite its awesomeness, I have decided I will not change it. I will help spread it across the blogosphere until it can become one of those new, 21st century words, like "blogosphere."

I am freely admitting that Thomas Gnarly Redbeard was one of the worst ideas I have ever had.

In my defence, it was not my idea.

I thought that writing to Johnny Depp would be too obvious.

Anyways, I am waiting until I see his hyped-up sequel coming out this weekend. Then I will drop him a line.

Fact: Thomas Gnarly Redbeard has won as many Oscars as Johnny Depp.

Concept of Irony rocks. Man, that last post. I laughed so hard I almost fell out of my chair.
I really need to shut up, stop trying to be witty, and post crap soley on my own site.

Sometimes I think my right and left brains are going to become so opposed that they have an all-out war inside my head, and I wake up one morning dead.
Hey, that makes no sense, and it rhymes. I can write pop music lyrics.

the end

Gnarly?

2006-06-29T22:52:00.000-07:00

Normally, I would not take requests. Perhaps because of my art-critic mentality, I dislike doing things purely for the whims of strangers. But since I have recieved my first request EVER on this blog or any blog, I will comply. (See comment made on previous post)

Meet Midshipman/First mate Thomas Gnarly Redbeard. Do you like him? I created him through the magic of Microsoft Paint. Now, I will singlehandedly write him a letter, using all twenty six keys, of course. But only one hand...you are just going to have to trust me on this.

Dear midshipman/firstmate ythomas gnarly redbeard,
first off, why do you have two jobs? d you get paid ezxtra for the dual roles you platy on toyour pirate ship? do you have a celebrity girlfriend? do you dhave a pirate girlfriecnd? if so can you ginve me any tips on lady-ing? Does the feather hanve somethinfg to do with it? Also, why is your beard red? is it stained red from all the foes you have slaudghtered? Why do some pirates wear black stuff aroubnd their eyes? Does it keep the glare out? Or is it just in movies? If so, are you als o an actor? Ansd that leads me to my final question.
Have you ever won any oscars?
Please dont emerge from my computer in a wave of gnarly vengenmce,
Fried_blue

Okay, my left hand got to chill a little. As did my maturity, pride, grammar, intelligence, punctuation, and sense of being not-lame.

So I must pause until they return to me. I hope you're happy.

Kashi

2006-06-26T22:24:00.000-07:00

Scrolling through the blogosphere the other day, it suddenly dawned on me that many blogs are about bloggers' lives. This was quite a startling discovery. Following this crazy new trend, I am going to tell you a story about something that has happened to me recently.

Last night I got distracted and I almost backed into my friend's car.

Okay, that is it. That's the story.

To tell you the sad truth, I feel much more comfortable writing short letters to celebrities using only a fraction of the keyboard than telling stories about my life's mundane happenings.

So I will write a letter to Jude Law using a scant 1/26 of the letters available to me on the keyboardaphone device.

L,
L l. l l; l! l ll l l.L l.
Ll,
_l

Perhaps I was a little too ambitious in this particular project. But if Jude Law ever comes on this site, at least he will not be bored by another life's story. He might even appreciate the minimalism.

He might also wonder why this post is titled "Kashi."

Non-self

2006-06-24T12:11:00.000-07:00

Today is a day for celebration. Today is the day I discovered that someone has made a comment on my blog. My anonymous comments don't count.

This makes me more grammar-conscious than usual. Usually I write in my blog like I'm talking to an imaginary non-self internetfriend. Since my discovery today, I feel compelled to write like I'm talking to a real friend (or enemy) who is possibly (probably) much more intelligent than me. Than I.

Non-self? Yeah, that sounds weird to me, too. I guess I have been reading too much summer sci-fi; novels with those strange words and turns of phrase that seem to be cool at the first glance until you realize the author has just merged two words into one, often with a hyphen.

"...as I explored the marshlands of the planet Plearthnetworld in my plasteel space-volvo I grew increasingly alarmed at the hyphen-things looming above me everywhere I turned..."

Well, as long as the non-selves still outnumber the selves I will not be too self-conscious to write in this increasingly layered load of crap I call a blog.

you h n on n o h you

2006-06-22T23:57:00.000-07:00

I'm a firm believer in balance. Literary balance. For that reason, I am compelled to write a letter to another celebrity using only my right hand. Let's see if it works any better.

m mon,
h i up? You look lik noml uy. I njoy you moi on upmy. Bu i lik h mui h b. o you h mou ilin? You h n on n o h you? lo, hy o you moi il ly m o b pun on you h' nm? nyy, kp up h oo ok!!

you n,
i_lu

I almost had a palindrome going there in that 6th sentence. I wonder if Matt Damon would appreciate the literary balance.

Dear Matt Damon,
What is up? You look like a normal guy. I enjoyed your movie Borne Supremacy. But I liked the music the best. Do you have a famous girlfriend? You have never won an Oscar, have you? Also, why do your movies' titles always seem to be puns on your characters' names? Anyway, keep up the good work!!

Your fan,
Fried_blue

Verve?

2006-06-19T20:50:00.000-07:00

I figure I need to write a really good post to make up for the last one, which was lame. I especially did not enjoy the lame ending.
So I will write a letter to Bruce Willis using only my left hand.

Dear Brce Ws,
W are dg? are c. r actg as verve. Are st arred t a Rberts? sed t get cfsed wt ev ster, fr se reas. ave ever w a scar?
eace t,
fredbe

I had to put the word "verve" in there just to have a complete word. But this method does save space. Look at how long it could have been:

Dear Bruce Willis,
How are you doing? Your acting has verve. Are you still married to Julia Roberts? I used to get you confused with Kevin Costner, for some reason. Have you ever won an Oscar?
Peace out,
fried_blue

Well that was a complete failure to make up for lameness. No, not you Bruce Willis, I stopped talking to you a few sentences ago.

Movie review

2006-06-18T00:01:00.000-07:00

Oh boy. It's time to write in the blog again.

Tonight I went to see the movie Nacho Libre with some friends. I don't remember ever having laughed so hard I cried at any movie before. This was some mad funny sht. And that is my verdict as a self-proclaimed art critic.
However, I've also noticed that I have a wide range of types of humor that I like. I laugh at pretty much any type of humor thrown at me.

I think I am going to stop pressing the tdelete key just to see how it would be if I had to blog on a typrewriter. That was a really owawkward sentence back there. Sentences with more than one "of" in them are ususally not worth reading. I am not making as many mistakes as I thought I wook. Blogging on a typrewriter would be typewriter would be pretty annoying. you would have to send in your posts by mail to some gigantic room and they post your blog with some tape on a wall in a cluster of other blog posts. I don't know why I'm thinking this, much less typing it.

art critic

2006-06-16T23:34:00.000-07:00

Someday blogging will be for old people.
Like typewriters & fogies who still mainly use landlines to call people

I am a self-proclaimed:

Art critic
person who just broke their no-bullet's vow.

Art critics. Oh crap. Aren't they supposed to be gay?

Dear famous art critic,

To be someone in your position, must one be attracted to men? Can one appreciate Angelina Jolie, and still use words like vogue?

I realize I write like I'm gay. I read too many British novels when I was young, and in my old age I write like an American whose trying to be British. But not gay. Not that there's anything wrong with that, and so forth.

Your fan,
fried_blue

Hell, I might even be a lesbian.

Dear famous person,

2006-06-15T21:11:00.000-07:00

In my blog today I wrote a letter to Johnny Depp. Then I deleted it. Then I wrote these 3 sentences. Now I'm thinking about writing a letter to Wynona Rider. Is that how you spell her name? No, I had the Y in the wrong place. I will probably not write a letter to her tonight. Maybe I shall write a letter to Brad Pit. Pitt.

Dear Brad Pitt,

Someday I want to meet you. I don't know why women are so attracted to you. It puzzles me. I will write a bestselling novel that will inevitably be made into a movie with you in the leading role. I will be on site, bringing the movie to life. Well, you know, more like watching helplessly as my novel is butchered by Hollywood special effects and stylized plotlines. I can ask you then, and finally solve the mystery. I look forward to meeting you and your lovely wife someday, if you all are still one word.

Your 6 billionth fan,
Fried_Blue

Subtitle worries

2006-06-11T22:33:00.000-07:00

I am wondering if my subtitle will be taken the wrong way by the wrong people. I'm half expecting some government people to track me down and ask me if I'm some kind of revolutionary hiding coded messages in my blog. I will have to tell them, honestly, no, that is just my sense of humor and poses no threat to anyone. You know, the type of humor that makes fun of the way words work. I can see you don't get it. It's really not supposed to be that funny, anyway. Please don't send me back to England. I'm not from there. I know sometimes I write like I am, but have I ever put the letter "u" in words like favorite or color? No. So my subtitle will stay as it is, until I re-examine the works of Douglas Adams and can replace the current subtitle with a viable definition of Bistromathics. No, wait, I really am a US citizen, guys! Doesn't it say so in my profile? No?

Weird dream in 2nd paragraph

2006-06-07T21:16:00.000-07:00

The good ol' box of Great Grains I mentioned to you two posts ago is finally coming to an end. There hardly any delicious pecans left; only those dissatisfying grainy chips that taste kind of like honeyed sawdust. I fear that the apocolypse is near.

Last night I had the weirdest dream. I am not going to tell you about it, because you don't care. Plus, it was an incredibly, gloriously, exceedingly weird dream that I would tell to neither my most distant cousin nor my best friend.

I will say it made me wonder how dreams work. Science (psychology, etc.) has pretty much explained most of the mysteries that have engaged human beings throughout the centuries, but the Dream Question is still out there, waiting for a scientific answer. And as long as it's out there, we can still entertain ourselves with crazy, perfectly valid stories about why we dream.

When my cat dreams, his pupils have this eerie way of expanding and contracting. Well, I guess it's eerie that he sleeps with his eyes open in the first place. Or maybe he is in cathartic REM cat sleep.

Have you ever invented a dream just to tell others an entertaining story that they wouldn't listen to/have the patience for any way else? I guess there's another outlet for that,

called blogging...

Sarcasm Detector

2006-06-06T22:17:00.000-07:00

Someday I will construct a sarcasm detector. I believe this invention would be benificial to mankind. It could have a range of maybe zero to ten.

Examples of readings/situations:

Zero- Keep it real, man. In a context where both the speaker and the man are, in fact, keeping it real and plan to keep it real.

Five- I can't believe it's not butter! In a context where it is, in fact, easy to believe, especially in the day and age where cloning and glow-in-the dark pigs are a reality. (Well I'm not 100% sure about the pigs, but it's a cool thought.)

Ten- ...and Brutus is an honorable man... In a context where one is simultaneously manipulating the masses while displaying one's own grief at the death of Caesar

Yes. Sarcasm detector. I will make millions. Unless the invention is turned upon myself. Yeah...not so cool, as I would forced into silence for the rest of my life. That, or forced sincerety. Blaugh!

Short story in 2nd paragraph

2006-06-05T21:21:00.000-07:00

What a lovely evening for blogging. I am eating Great Grains straight from the box. Every few handfulls, I get a large chunk of pecan. It doesn't get much better than this. Well, unless I got a large chunk of pecan in every handful. That would be the best of all possible worlds.

Earlier today I wrote a post. It didn't publish. The end.

Well, it looks like this is going to be one of the shorter posts I've written. I could lengthen it with strategic bulleting, but that would be in violation of the strict anti-bullets code I have sworn to uphold. Sorry, Powerpoint. Never again will I use most of your templates. I am under an oath.

One final comment, though: In future posts, I plan to use more of the word "yet". "Yet" is one of the better words of the English language. Every time I think about using bullets, I should instead compose a well-structured sentence using the word, "yet" I don't know how exactly that will work as I often misuse the better words and end up being buffoonful.

A new woe, a new word

2006-06-05T10:18:00.000-07:00

ULTRACOMPUTING!!!!

Sorry about the caps. I was just quoting my mouse pad. Here is an update on my life:

I have recently come to the decision that the most successful people are awesome liars. The least successful people are bad liars. I am a bad liar. I will die unlamented.

Is unlamented a word? It seems like it should be. Adhese should be a word, too.

Adhese (Add-heese) v. to stick to; to combine, tape, attach, or stick together in an adhesive way.
ex: I don't have any tape or staples, so I will adhese these five pages of my final term paper together with this trident whitening gum I've been chewing...

...and let it dry for a while. Then it will be properly adhesed. In a little while, I will be done adhesing and I can take a nice nap. But that is only the short term plan. In the long term, I'll learn how to lie in social situations in order to give the impression that I enjoy socializing with others.

I will die disunlamented for inventing the word adhese and spreading it across the land.

Restless

2006-06-01T21:48:00.000-07:00

Oh internet, what unruly garbage will I send out to you tonight?

Muddy boots. I recognize the psychological neccessity. Omitted characters. When I open from the car window outside, I pick up where I have left off at the end. Stream of conciousness lends an admirable quality, but it is not for everyone!

I shall draw a picture of the internet. Title: "The Great Diversion of My Generation." So what if nature reclaims what we have taken? It was a great gig, we all had fun. Polar bear+Grizzly bear= Pozzly bear

Effeminate muddy boots. Call me Joe, Nick or Stephen. One of these is my real name. One hundred and twenty blocks of time left before they're all used up. It seems to be pretty pointless, but it seems to be more pointless to say so. You know, to point out the nature of time. I'm having an apocolypse of the imagination. How easy it is to write these big words. How foolish.

Internet, please recieve this uncoded message with the same impersonality you have given the rest of

A hollow laugh

2006-06-01T15:46:00.000-07:00

The most my writing ever deserves is a hollow laugh.

Okay, just wanted to make sure you knew that before I start up the blogging again. I just got back from a short vacation and have re-read my last post. Disappointment. I'll bet if I keep reading and scrolling down I'll sink softly into a bleak despair.

See what I mean? I mean, did you even laugh? If so, did you laugh hollowly?

A pattern: when I began, my profile had one view-from myself. A couple of days later, three views (I assumed these were pity views anyway). A couple of weeks later, it suddenly shot up to six views. One recent evening, I noticed that it had jumped from six to twelve views. It has remained at twelve for a few weeks. I think there is some kind of badly-disguised programming going on...someone's trying to fool me...

If the count suddenly jumps from twelve to twenty four (and for no good reason) I will celebrate by laughing hollowly.

Nee-wom

2006-05-23T23:21:00.000-07:00

Expect this post to be composed of a lot of random, silly tidbits. And by silly, I mean ridiculous and corny, but not humorous. Unless you find the ridiculous and corny amusing. Then you are probably a silly person who needs to get a life.

I just need to make this post substantial enough to boot the preceding post completely out of the top part of my blog, so I never have to see that post again. Unless I was to scroll down. Then I would probably cry, saddened by the depths of silliness to which I can sink, and tell myself I need to get a life.

Not that I don't already tell myself that I need to get a life; I remind myself of that every day. Unless I've had a really happy day. Then, bursting with confidence after a good day's work, I tell myself I am too good to use words like "tidbits," while pointing out to myself that I need to stop telling myself I need to get a life.

Well, the end of the post draws near. Not many tidbits, I admit, but it does have a kind of rhythm. Unless you are someone who is unable to embrace the idea that sentence patterns have rhythm. Then, in all seriousness, I congratulate you, sentence-rhythm critic, for you do have a life.

Toothbrush

2006-05-23T00:09:00.000-07:00

I wish this blog had some kind of theme. It would be much easier to write.

(About 3 minutes pass while I continue to stare at my hands)

I really need to brush my teeth. Wait, no! Ha ha...Not because of any lack of dental hygiene, but because I get good ideas when I brush my teeth. I don't know why, but sometimes it works. Excuse me for just a minute...

Okay, I'm back with clean teeth and an open mind. I think I will write about something mind-bogglingly stupid. Yeah. My toothbrush must be broken.

Recently I watched a couple of episodes of this reality television show (see how stupid?) called Top Chef. Premise is much the same as other reality television shows- the contestants have a crazy task, and someone gets voted off at the end of the episode. (Mind-bogglingly stupid.)

One of the contestants is a red-haired girl named Tiffany. She is one of the two finalists. Everyone hates Tiffany with a ridiculous and fanatical loathing that one might reserve for the killer of one's best friend. I don't know why. I don't think she does either. It's kind of funny, in a way. Like if everyone at your job started screaming at you one day, out of nowhere. Everyone. Of course, I'm pulling for Tiffany to win the title of Top Chef, Ruler of the Culinary Universe and so forth. Maybe she will see this blog and send me some procciuto e melone or lasagna or something.

Yeah, my toothbrush is broken. Or I need to switch toothpaste brands or something. That sometimes works. Good-quality lasagna toothpaste. Please, Tiffany? I'm your biggest fan...

Problems - "About Me"

2006-05-21T12:58:00.000-07:00

The "About me" box should contain the most prominent information on your profile. The template puts all the stuff you say in this box right beside your picture, thus allowing you to establish yourself as a true, three- dimensional person.

This makes me nervous. I thought about leaving this box blank, then I started writing things in it. After a couple of days I would change what I had said. There is just no right thing to put in that freaking box that will make me seem:

Funny
Smart
Confident yet humble
The writer of a blog worth reading

So I am stuck. Especially on that last point, because I am not a good liar. A couple of days ago I changed "About me" from something really stupid about a game that I had made up at 2 am. Now it gives two facts; both are true.

My favorite color is blue. I know this might come as a surprise. Yea, verily, it is the truth--hence, the name. (Is that how hence in this sense is spelled?)

I only wear one contact. Well, this isn't exactly true. I don't always wear my one contact. Some days, like today, I go with both eyes naked. This does make me have a really weird squint when I try to look at far away things: in true pirate fashion only my right eye squints and my left eye is strangely wide and all-seeing. I think I'm going to put in my contact now.

Vision! But the contact juice is dripping down my face, making my right eye look teary and tragic. I wonder if this is supposed to symbolize something.

I think I shall write a poem. Once again, I turn to bullet points for a sense of economy and cohesiveness.

Eyes:

Good
Bad
Ugly

Cell phone rings & the stick figure thinking

2006-05-20T22:22:00.000-07:00

You know what? I'm glad no one reads my blog.

Just kidding. I am bitter.

Well if you have to know the truth, I am not bitter. Nevertheless, I would like my blog to become popular, and for one simple reason: I would like to design and sell overpriced tee-shirts to my readers. The designs? Well they would have to be remotely related to this blog. Maybe one tee shirt with a funky design of Prometheus bringing down a hot plate of chili from Mount Olympus. Yeah, and another tee shirt with a sketch of Mozart's face, looking kind of weirded out about the 21st century icon thing. Like, come on guys, didn't I suffer enough abuse in my own lifetime?

But I guess that's the way it is with any pop icon. You've been dead for several decades or centuries, but some people looking for material come along and reanimate you. Suddenly you are something you were not. Never mind if you were trying to promote peace or philosophical views- high art and so forth. Mendelssohn? Beethoven? Let's make their masterpieces into cell phone ring tones.

I think we all need to stick with the more conventional way of butchering a fine composer's music. By attempting to play it without knowing what we're doing.

That could be the third tee shirt. Some stick figure playing the piano and thinking, 'This sounds awful, but at least the music is on the right instrument, not two octaves higher on my cell phone.'

why are the italics not turning off even when I click the "i" icon? I guess the stick figure will have to be thinking this, too.

The stick figure also thinks that the minimalism of John Cage is just way too out-there for him. He is very confused. Maybe he will give up on his dreams of playing the piano concerto at Carnegie Hall, and write atonal cell phone ring tones. Ring atones.

Sorry, that was really bad.

Musings over livers

2006-05-20T11:23:00.000-07:00

I burned the roof of my mouth today. I'm glad that mouth cells heal the mouth quickly. I wonder why the rest of the body's cells are not like mouth cells.

Theory No.1:

Long ago, a mysterious someone decided that mouth cells should be extremely tough, and the rest of the body should heal at a slower rate. It was decided that the brain cells would heal the slowest, if at all.

This someone then went on to create re-heatable foods and delicious hot sauce, but also invented drugs and alcohol. He came down from Olympus and shared his creations with the mortals.

The ancient peoples who did not die of substance abuse went on to become modern day humans, who are still trying to figure out this blessing/curse upon their cells.

My entirely messed-up Promethius story has brought up another question. Why are human livers so weak and faulty? Dog and ape livers allow these animals to eat just about anything. It's too bad that, while we were evolving, we weren't able to retain the tough, primortial livers of primitive man. Or the nice body hair that would help keep us warm.

Well, okay, I can see how that last thing could be a problem.

'Tis a silly post.

2006-05-19T21:45:00.000-07:00

I wonder if there's a way to blog without sounding snotty and full of myself. Solution: I shall turn to minimalism and compose a repeating sequence of unrelated letters of the alphabet.

ovlywocj!tksoz: gis. whaotwaot. ovlywoj!tksoz: gis. whaotwaot. ovlywocj!tksoz: gis. whaotwaot.

But seriously. My snotty writing is bothering me. Maybe if I wrote a story about some other people...but if the story is bad, it will reflect upon those people as well as myself. Those poor, innocent, made-up characters. Instead of right now, where the writing of bad stories only reflects poorly upon myself.

I've been thinking about starting a short story about a hypothetical and complex society. Okay, maybe not too complex of a society, but like many nerds, I stand in awe of Frank Herbert's "Dune," and isn't imitation the most sincere form of flattery or something? Not that I'd have any reason to flatter someone who died years ago, but...I think I'm straying from the subject.

On second thought, I will not tell you about my short story. 'Tis a silly story.

This post does not merit a title

2006-05-18T23:22:00.000-07:00

What shall I write about tonight? Shall I try to be funny? Will I attempt to convey my hazy and apocalyptic political views to you for a second time? Will I share one of my dreams with you? Will I venture to criticize blogger.com in a strongly hypocritical way? Will I stop asking rhetorical questions?

That third thing seems like the best idea, except that I forgot what I dreamed about last night. So lets see. The fourth idea is getting stale. The site is decent enough for something that is free. The fifth idea seems okay, except that I've already switched from interrogative to declarative sentences. (I remember there being a third type of sentence...I might have even crossed over into those.)

So I finally make another comment on someone else's blog. And what did I do in that comment? I inadvertently insult one of the foundations of his life's work. No, I'm just kidding. I hope. I really really hope he and his cult following have a good sense of humor. I've often heard that humor doesn't come across as easily on the internet-one of the problems with text instead of speech. Even the clean type of humor. Especially my type of humor. I should know. I once lost a potential date, just trying to be funny.

Yay! Question number one!

Lucky post #13 nearing its end...one of the previous sentences would have been the first time I had ever used a colon in my blog, except that I restructured the sentence. Don't want this blog to get too crazy.

So, have I distracted you from the implied story about Question Number One?

I'll tell it later, if any interest is shown by others.

A passive sentence! Crazy! Don't look now its a jabberwock with eyes of flame wiffling through the tulgey wood

Okay, I will just admit it: I will never share my sad internet date story with others. Ever.

But I have used a colon. THE FIRST colon was used in the 13th post. This coincides with THE FIRST passive sentence. What could possibly be meant by this?

Existential Questions about blogging

2006-05-14T21:08:00.001-07:00

You may have noticed that I've added to my blog's subtitle; I'm going for a more "nerd" atmospere around here (as if the air wasn't thick enough with "nerd" already).

I wonder how many dead blogs there are out there. Does someone come along and delete them? Will the internet ever die? If so, will it be because it is replaced with something better, or because human beings have digressed back to a feudal society that shuns technology? (As in Dune).

Will my little blog exist long after I die? When the scientists of the second technological revolution begin to investigate the ancient Internet, will they find Bistromath floating around in the dusty blogosphere, and ask themselves something profound like, wow, what kind of geek wrote this crap?

I see no reason why any of these blogs will last longer than the internet. Even the good ones, like hobbitguitar, will fizzle out like shook foil when the internet dies. Will anyone care about hard disks? Will anyone be around to care? Its funny how so many people are convinced the things they do online are permanent. Its really just a matter of time before something shuts the whole thing down. The people living during that time will pass away with even less of a mark on the earth than those ancient cultures that used tangible, concrete material to create.

This post has adhered well to my "rambling thoughts" theme. I don't think it ever strayed from "nerd" theme either.

Using these standards, I count this a successful post.

Creation!!!!

2006-05-13T22:49:00.000-07:00

What? Too many exlamation marks? No, really, it brings me joy to click on the little tab that says "Create." Like I'm actually bringing a fine work of prose into this world. I wonder if there's a way to modify the tab to say "type some crap or something." It would make me feel less like a liar every time I click on it.

I also like the verb "publish," as in "publish post." Does it mean there's some kind of copyright on my post as soon as I publish it? Do I get money? Is it like I have a job writing about my life? Because that's how I feel every time I click on "publish post," and it's very much a let-down to return to reality the instant after I do so.

Finally, I appreciate how the template layout makes my blog look neat. Exactly one pica between each of the boxed areas. Font straight and readable, colors matching. A well-designed, well-executed, organized blog.

Even if the actual text in my blog is complete garbage.

Well, if you didn't like reading my blog today, at least look around and enjoy the one quality piece of effort that went into making it.

Thanks, blog template-maker guy. There you toil, somewhere out there, designing ways for us inept bloggers to add a bit of dignity to our trite little thoughts.

By the way, are you God?

the blogwagon

2006-05-11T19:14:00.000-07:00

If one is one's own worst critic, then all criticisms coming from others will sound positive to oneself.

Do you think this is true?

I think it is. I think that's why there are so many introspective men and women who protect themselves from being found silly, stupid, or obsolete with a big dose of self-criticism every time their mind takes a creative turn.

I think that's also the reason why I have so many ideas for poems, short stories, novels, but I never write any of them down without tossing them out a day later. That's the real reason I've jumped on the blogwagon, not to tell other people about my life. Other people don't give a rat's ass. I blog to practice writing.

Writing an English essay is one thing. The material is already there. You just have to find a new perspective, a new angle, to words someone else wrote, and you've got a decent paper. If you run out of ideas, you can always quote. But it is another thing to put to paper (or to Microsoft Word) a crazy, possibly good idea that you thought of while brushing your teeth. It's snatching something out of thin air and making it substance. It almost defies the laws of physics.

And anyway, there are millions of people like me who think their ideas have merit and should be widely read. Most of them don't, they are just re-wording the ancient archeotypes and philosophies. Have you ever read To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf? One of the characters is a middle-aged family man who teaches and writes philosophy. In the course of one evening, he makes the disheartening self-discovery that although he has writtens some good stuff, although he has made his contributions, he will never go beyond the letter "Q". Once in a while there will be a couple of people that reach Z, but he knows he does not have the intellectual capacity, or maybe the drive, to even progress to R. It is beyond him.

What a thing to admit. Like I said in my first post, I look at what I've written and it makes me want to gag. Am I going to give up, or am I going to make my attempt at, if not Z, then at least the next letter?

No poeticism today

2006-05-09T12:06:00.000-07:00

Well, I ended up keeping my last post around. But that's because I have not read it since I wrote it two days ago. It probably sounds like I'm on something, right? Well, I wasn't really. Just lack of sleep. So I think I'm going to save myself the embarassment and pretend its not there.

Remind me never to try to be poetic again.

Does my screen name sound like some kind of illegal substance? I hope not. I think of it more in the whimsical, green-eggs-and-ham way. Or maybe fried blue...tomatoes at the whistlestop cafe. What does it sound like to you?

"Fried blue" was actually first on my list of name ideas for my fictional band. I've been keeping this list for several years, and there are some really bad band names on it. Fried blue seemed to stand out. I always picture this as my favorite color; a kind of serene, oceanic blue with darker shades, maybe some brown tones, mixed in.

Maybe if I'm ever in an actual band, which is not likely, I will buy an electric guitar exactly this color and spread the word that fried blue is not some kind of drug, but is instead a very specific hue. Along with other important messages, of course.

I was going to write some lyrics just now, but remembered that I've forsworn attempting to be poetic earlier in this post.

Don't expect this post to make any sense.

2006-05-08T01:00:00.000-07:00

You might have noticed that I have only one specific piece of music in my profile right now- Mozart's serenade in C minor for woodwind quintet. If you have access to an internet music source, log on and listen to it right now. Make sure it's good quality or else it'll sound like it's being played underwater.

Listen to the Andante movement. It will make you cry.

If you've never seriously listened to classical music, this would be a good piece to start on. I would also recommend the other Mozart serenades, like the one in B flat Major. I wish I could post a link to it, but all the free recording samples I've found, at least on Amazon, have sounded pretty bad.

If you find a recording of the serenade in C minor and have any profound thoughts while listening to the second movement, for example:

Wow. I am in love. I will never tell her, but I will simply look upon her when she happens to come by, and it will be beautiful always. Wow.

Then you know you've found the right recording.

Remember, this was composed in a time before McDonalds and Walmart, and just as an audience back then probably wouldn't be able to handle a piece by any rock group popular today, a modern listener might not find this kind of music entertaining in that it has no words and therefore no obvious, bang-you-over-the-head message.

When I start writing sentences that long, I know it's time for sleep. Try to find it, listen to it until your heartbeat slows to the tempo and your breath aligns with the phrases.

Goodnight.

The importance of being earnest?

2006-05-07T12:54:00.000-07:00

Last night I had a dream that my blog became popular overnight. I think this is the first dream I've ever had that took place on the internet. 252 people looked at my profile, and there were at least two comments for every post I'd written so far.

I guess people in my dream must have a lot of time to waste, and they must have a high tolerance for crappy, pointless blogs if they like this one. Blog surfers in my dream are generally pretty stupid. I wish I'd actually gotten to meet some of these people- we would have had a lot in common.

If my last post confused you, that's my fault. I suddenly veered off in the direction of sincerity, and it might have startled you. (Well, it startled the 252 blog viewers that apparently live in my head.) If you weren't thrown off by this, you might have been confused by the sudden change in attitude of the last two paragraphs. No, there is not a political censor also living in my head, forcing me to cancel out any radical thoughts after I say them. It was just that I suddenly veered off in another new direction, a direction called satire.

I don't know how I feel about satire. There's an awful lot of it around these days. People who use satire as their principal form of communication seem good at pointing out problems, but not as good at finding solutions for them. In many cases, presenting solutions means letting down one's defenses to a lot of potential bashing. I guess what I'm trying to say is that being satirical is staying on the safe side. Americans love their comedians. They make a joke about some flaw in society, and we think, 'Oh, that's so true.' But do most of us actively try to correct the problems they point out?

To what extent does satire make things better? This is a pretty old question, and I'm still not sure which side I fall on. I guess I'd need to compare it to other forms of criticism, and see how well it has worked in the past. Or maybe I need to clarify the question... "things" and "better" are vague words.

I seriously need some help. This has turned into another pointless, indecisive post.

I think I'm going to have some lunch now and read the Sunday comics.

Some new crazy thoughts

2006-05-06T10:02:00.000-07:00

It is Saturday morning and I haven't eaten breakfast yet. So I might be a little crazy.

You might have noticed a strange picture below this post, and a smaller version of this picture by the link to my profile. This is supposed to be me. Don't laugh. I do realize that my head seems to be disentegrating into a hazy cloud of binary bits. It's part of the effect. It is by no means an accurate likeness (I did it on Paint) but hey, there it stands: a picture in an otherwise pictureless blog.

Have I told you my views of the world yet? I've noticed that generally people talk about their political views, economic views, religious views, etc. on their blogs. I have posted, what, five times already? So far I have not brought up any of those subjects. So get ready. Now I will tell you what I think:

None of us will live to see 2050. That's right. If we make it another twenty years, that will be good. Human beings have given themselves the capacity to wipe out large amounts of the population. More and more people are getting access to this capacity every year. History will tell us that if someone (and it may not be the most obvious person) gets pissed off enough, they are bound to use their most powerful weapon sooner or later. It's happened so many times before; it's just that this time, the weapon has the potential to wipe out pretty much everything, as in, begin a nuclear winter. And with diplomacy the way it is today, I don't think there's anything anyone can do to stop it.

That sounded a lot like a narration for the trailer a bad action movie. What a complete load of pessimistic crap. I don't know what I'm talking about. We're all going to live 'till the ripe old age of one hundred, and will depart from this earth knowing we've left our great-grandchildren with a beautiful, peaceful, loving world.

I'm going to eat breakfast.

2006-05-05T18:16:00.000-07:00

Laughing is fun.

2006-05-05T13:51:00.000-07:00

I'll start out by saying that my worst fears were realized last night when I ventured to click on the "next blog" button again. Did the link take me to the awesome site "Hobbit Guitar"? No. Was the blog awesome? No. Did it even have guitars? No. Not one single guitar picture.

But it did force me to look at some successful and unsuccessful blogs. As I scrolled through the blogosphere with the help of my "next blog" button, I got a lot of good ideas:

Post pictures to make my blog more interesting.
Have a theme, preferably something unusual.
Stop scrolling through the blogosphere before my computer gets a virus.

Having taken care of bullet three, I decided to move up to bullet two. Have a theme. Preferably something unusual. Well, after hours of pondering the future of this site, I finally came up with an original, innovative theme...

Um...(1st hour)

Okay, well...(2nd hour)

Like you care. Just forg- Wait... (3rd hour)

No, I give up. No theme at all. (4th hour)

Yeah, so it looks like the theme for Just "blog title" for now will remain the same. And as for posting pictures, those will come later. Like the point when people other than myself start visiting my site. So probably never.

Another thing I observed:

spelling doesn't matter.

One can have a popular blog without spelling words write or using any kind of grrammatticall structure. This might be due to the fact that the spell check on this site is not very helpful. For example, it wants me to replace "blog" with "bloc," and "blogosphere" with, well, "blogosphere." So far it hasn't given me actual words to replace, and seems intent upon changing its own identity.

So in the future, I'll cut the popular blogs the same slack that I cut my own chronically misspelled blog, and start making fun of the spell check function instead.

One final thing. I would like to have the little box on my main page that counts how many people have visited since the site began. I think it would brighten my day to watch that number not only remain in the single digits, but remain the smallest single digit.

That's just one other reason I will have to laugh at myself. And laughing is fun.

A Thursday evening blog

2006-05-04T19:35:00.000-07:00

Wow. I really need to change the name of my page.
I could do something honest like "Lame [insert noun with negative connotations here]" or something poetic like "An Everywhere of Silver". I could do something boring like "fried blue's blog page." Yeah, that would be something I would want to check everyday. I could...nevermind.

I'm sure you know all the functions of blogger.com, but I'm just getting used to navigating around here. In a bout of curiosity, I clicked on the icon "next page" up in the top right corner, and it took me to another blog called "Hobbit Guitar." What an awesome name. It even has some awesome photos of guitars. I am proud to be neighboring such an awesome blog. (Sarcasm level: 0. Trust me.) To praise this site any more could possibly lead to me giving away some of my precious personal info, so I will just say that I feel an affinity towards both of the subjects in the title of my neighbor's blog, and leave it at that.

I fear that when I try to click on "next page" again, it will not go to "Hobbit Guitar" but instead go to a blog as lame and sad as "Just "blog title" for now".

Wow. Just to inform you, I used eight quotation marks in that last sentance. That's a bit much. I've used them all up for this post. No more quotation marks.

Something else I'm still trying to learn is how to edit my past posts. I discover I've spelled a word wrong...a common occurance as you might have noticed. I correct the word and feel a little bit better about myself. But, to my horror, the only thing I've actually done is put the edited post in some kind of archive, with the misspelled post still out in plain view of the one person to see who actually takes an interest in my blog. And that bothers me, that one person, a lot. The only solution I've come up with is to post another blog, thereby unseating the offending misspelled blog post and putting another flawed blog in its place. A vicious cycle.

The day I write the perfect blog, with no errors, the cycle will break and there will be no more blogs posted on my blog-page ever again.

That day will thenceforth be proclaimed a national holiday.

A Thursday blog

2006-05-04T10:55:00.000-07:00

Hello again. I realized after I'd posted my first blog that the "I"s really don't stand out that much on my actual blog page, just on the "composition" page. Right now, I have a total of four "I"s, wait, now five, that are glaring right back at me as I type them. I know I could change the writing font, but where's the fun in that? I think I'll just leave it as a running joke until I get bored with it...

Speaking of running jokes, the last post/comment was my lame attempt to layer. You know how Joseph Conrad layers his novels with so many narrators that by the time you're on the second page you have no idea which character is telling the story, and which character that character is talking about?
Well, somewhat in that manner (okay, this is a stretch) I wanted to see how many layers of self-insult I could pour onto one post before it just collapses...though I now think the entire thing was crazy and pointless the entire way through. And with that last comment, I do belive that totals about 5 different layers of harsh self-criticism. Yay!

Before this all gets too ridiculous and you lose interest...ha (6) I want to tell you about a dream I had last night. In this dream, I was rafting down a river with a bunch of wild looking river folk that were supposed to be my family. We were looking for an outpost of some sort. About this time, some old dude I was on the raft with started telling me his life's story, which seemed to be about someone else's life story, but before he could finish we had run aground on some kind of bank in the middle of a thicket. (Thicket is one of the best words ever, I'll bet it was invented by one of my ancestors from Kentucky...but I digress.) Anyway, we all got out of our rafts onto the muddy bank. We called a brief meeting and decided to settle here and make it our new home.

As we were exploring the thicket, I came upon a brightly colored poisonous snake just hanging out on the trail in front of me. (Why was there already a trail? Good question.) It hissed at me, but I scared it away by waving my arms aggressively and screaming loudly. After I recovered from this encounter, I realized my left hand was holding my own non-domesticated pet green snake. Maybe it was mad at me for forgetting about him, because it managed to turn the free part of its backneck around and bite me on the hand. Ouch. My dream-memory informed me that this bright green snake was also poisonous, and that I was done for. So I guess I died, which is reality's equivalent to waking up.

Well, that was my dream. I guess you can see at least one of the elements that my subconcious seemed to be mulling over (and hasn't stopped yet...I really didn't intend to write about this subject at all) was Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness, a really creepy book that I didn't even like that much. And I generally like creepy books.
I'm glad I died/woke up when I did, because my dream could have left me with a lot of moral, racial, sociological and ethical issues to contend with. But instead, I got bit on the hand by a snake.
So...with that in mind, can you guess my dream's other influence?

SNAKES ON A PLANE

First post

2006-05-03T16:57:00.000-07:00

I'd like to start by saying that I think everything I write is pretty much not worth being read. When I read over what I have written, like I did just now, it makes me want to gag. Gag.

It all just comes out so formally...like I'm writing some 19th century novel without the innate sense of correct grammar they all had back then...

see what I mean?

Well, hopefully I might say something intelligent once in a while. That would be nice. Maybe something entirely unlike what I'm about to say next.

I think its funny how the "I"s in the composition page font are somewhat bolder, as if to emphasise that my blogging is pretty much just narcissistic self-time; shameless introspection.

I really hope that last comment will not make other blog people mad. Wait, wait, I'll go ahead and call myself a hypocrite for insulting bloggers on my own personal blog-page. Don't get angry. It's my first time here. I need to settle in; I must get used to all this blank space and the somewhat bolded "I"s.

maybe i'll try typing without caps at all. or punctuation i can be modernist okay this is just getting crazy

And that completes my first post.

Let's try that again, in this century.

I guess that would about wrap up my first post. Have a nice day.