oh holy night

me: do you want to go see the tree

Aslan: do you?

me: kinda

its christmas eve

what are you supposed to do on christmas eve

Aslan: im bringing my camera

me: ok

Aslan: movies tell me that you are supposed to be redeemed

in the town square

me: oh

but we're not lost

are we?

Aslan: are you really asking that?

piece in progress

I view myself in orbit & try not to love it
the convention cuts me through
and through and turn.

public service announcement

i lost my phone battery, so last night i decided to try the alarm clock i got from ikea a year ago. the thing doesn't even run on batteries, its just a straight wind-up clock. looks like this:

if this clock looks vaguely familiar to you, either because you are considering buying it or happen to own one but haven't used it yet, DON'T. just don't. put it down and walk away. don't buy it, don't bring it home, don't wind it up. i set the thing for 6am this morning, and i woke up this morning to terrible screaming. i realized after half a second it was ME screaming like a fucking banshee, and i grabbed for the clock, fumbled it, and fell out of my bed going after it. i have never been woken up like that in my life. my entire body was tensed like i fell through a frozen pond, and now i still have a tension headache from my shoulders cramping. i've been awake for 4.5 hours now, and went to a yoga class, but the terror-induced headache is not letting up.

never doing that again. holy jesus.

24

Twenty-four oceans
Twenty-four skies
Twenty-four failures
Twenty four tries
Twenty-four finds me
In twenty-fourth place
Twenty-four drop outs
At the end of the day
Life is not what I thought it was
Twenty-four hours ago

::switchfoot::


Wendy: you're a fantastic human

immortalized as the nicest thing i've ever heard her say. to anyone. ever.

happy birthday me.

i am not sad

"He awoke each morning with the desire to do right, to be a good and meaningful person, to be, as simple as it sounded and as impossible as it actually was, happy. And during the course of each day his heart would descend from his chest into his stomach. By early afternoon he was overcome by the feeling that nothing was right, or nothing was right for him, and by the desire to be alone. By evening he was fulfilled: alone in the magnitude of his grief, alone in his aimless guilt, alone even in his loneliness. I am not sad, he would repeat to himself over and over, I am not sad. As if he might one day convince himself. Or fool himself. Or convince others--the only thing worse than being sad is for others to know that you are sad. I am not sad. I am not sad. Because his life had unlimited potential for happiness, insofar as it was an empty white room. He would fall asleep with his heart at the foot of his bed, like some domesticated animal that was no part of him at all. And each morning he would wake with it again in the cupboard of his rib cage, having become a little heavier, a little weaker, but still pumping. And by the midafternoon he was again overcome with the desire to be somewhere else, someone else, someone else somewhere else. I am not sad."

everything is illuminated :: jonathan safran foer

a message to furred turds

the only reason i can imagine that fur has managed to keep its foothold in fashion is the fact that it's expensive. fur is disgusting. i actually feel waves of nausea wash through my body when i see it. the only thing that keeps me from projectile vomiting on people in fur is thinking that those animals have already been through some shit, and the wearer looks pathetic enough as it is. i'm sure that it isn't exactly the reaction fur wearers are going for. quite frankly, when i see someone in fur, all i see is that they were too hopelessly lacking in creativity and originality to think of any other way to make themselves look "fashionable" or even presentable except to slather themselves in the trite and desperate slogan of "i'm rich, bitch!" and that they are so incredibly ignorant and uninformed that they don't even realize the primitive and frivolous barbarity they display. i would say you might as well wear a sign that says, " i have money to burn, but don't have the mental reserves to figure out a better use for it, please respect me!" but i realize fur is actually a much more efficient way of getting that message across. now, if you live in a shack on the steppes of siberia, i understand that fur is functional for you, and that the coat you're wearing, you probably caught and skinned and constructed yourself, so props. this rant is not for you. you notice how fur clothing and accessories in the prehistoric people exhibits of the museum of natural history actually look strikingly similar to the fur clothing and accessories we have now? it's not because cavemen were sototally channeling their inner chanels that they came up with a style to brave the ages. it's because there really aren't that many ways of making dead animal hair and pieces look like something you should be wearing. and in those exhibits, those people look like they're trying damn hard to keep from freezing to death. you in a fur coat with no pants on just points to an inexplicable and tragic trump of logic that fell somewhere in our human time line. fur is not fashionable. i mean, really, just take a good long look in the mirror. maybe somehow you don't see what most other people see, but if you need an explanation, you look like the abominable snowman or a wookie with a shrunken head, and with maybe about 1/10 the intellectual capacity. animal rights activists complain that fur is cruel and the only reason for it is vanity. to be blunt, the only thing fur says to me is that the wearer rather pitifully has nothing to be vain about.

eXXXon

what are we at now-- 6? 7? 15? tiger woods' pr team should stop scrambling for damage control at this point. cocktail waitresses and Z-list porn star hopefuls all over the country are coming out of the woods-work (hehe) with dirty texts and voicemails and stories about his allegedly giant penis. his goody goody woody image has more holes in it than a free condom from the cambridge pro-life society. not that he used condoms. allegedly. and now everyone is wondering how he'll ever keep his endorsements without that image. which would be tragic because endorsing products is what tiger woods does for a living-- it's his occupation in life.

word to woods' pr team-- ditch the image. get a new one. it can be done. it has been done. just look at madonna, or michael jackson, or mr. potato head. i absolutely do not subscribe to the belief that the public is very forgiving. it is, however, very forgetful. it's like an epidemic of mediamnesia, and you should ride it all the way to graceland. the goody two shoes image only goes so far anyway, it's actually shocking that tiger woods has made it work for so long. props to you, team. but now with this recent event still unfolding, why not consider the bad boy image? i have total confidence that your client is cool enough to pull it off. he made golf seem exciting, for gods sake. and a whole new world of endorsements is out there. gatorade might have dropped you (fear not, it's temporary), but what about something like monster energy drink? or magnum condoms, cars, underwear, batteries, axe body spray, text messaging (who's in your circle?), or my personal favorite, exxon mobile, if they brought back their old slogan: put a tiger in your tank. and they could change their name to eXXXon~ sexy gas for sexy people. it would be a hit.

srsly. think about it. call me.

2:10pm: typed this.

note to hapless intern currently responsible for nymag's sex diaries: the next step down from delusional dreams in method acting is not writing. or blogging. or even editing. the next step down, and sometimes the same step, is serving food. there is an order to these things. so step away from the keyboard, and go get me a fucking sandwich. and don't you dare try to spell out any notes on my check.

whoever came up with the brilliant idea of twitter-as-prose should be shot.

garden noam

dude i've had this idea for AGES. blast!



to read about this trivial matter in greater detail, article.

do not call.

Timothy: you know in those movies where someone gets kidnapped and the kidnapper forces the person to say stuff over the phone

: and it sounds really unnatural and weird to the person on the other end

: so they know something is up

: that's what talking to you is like

the fattering storm

you may have noticed a correlation between the rising rate of obesity in this country and our progressive destruction of the environment and ozone layer. as we continue to gorge ourselves and grow fatter and fatter, we incessantly debate global warming and lag in taking any measures to scale back our hand in the changing temperatures, rising sea levels, and melting ice caps around the globe. i believe that this correlation explains our attitude about the environment and our attitude about our fat (or "fattitude"). americans everywhere are putting on the pounds and wrapping themselves in fatty layers, subconsciously preparing for one of 2 catastrophic situations:

1) the polar ice caps melt, oceans rise and flood the continents. normals drown. fit-and-trims swim, exhaust their energy, then drown. fatties float.

2) a new ice age dawns. everyone freezes. fatties walk around in mumus and tshirts. build a new society.

the earth is dying. it would be impossible to demand that every one of us and our farming corporations go vegan and green overnight, we cease air travel, ban all but bikes and public transportation, and outlaw nascar. getting fat, however, we can do. it is a change we can believe in. not damage prevention, but damage preparation. so be a good american and do your part. live large, drive often, and eat like your buoyancy and heat retention depend on it.

Go U.S.A! We will prevail!

workforce

i like to get around my office by propelling myself in my chair with my feet. it is highly effective in getting me to wherever there is work to be done at the slowest pace possible, and making me look extremely unprofessional. its effectiveness is further augmented when i sing POW-POW-POWERWHEELS while i skid backwards from point to point.