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Refuge for the rational.

Monday, October 31, 2005

Halloween-It Doesn't Have to Be This Gay 

I kind of wish I had gone out on the weekend dressed in some last minute concoction of an outfit; I just got off work and I have school tomorrow and I’m basically just too lazy to do it tonight. There is also the gay factor. And, when I say gay I am not referring to, and therefore mean no insult towards, those whose sexual preferences are “evil” according to hardcore Christians (or, as I like to refer to them, fucking nutcases). I simply use the word because upon semantic reflection, it seems the most appropriate phrase for those people wearing capes.

Capes. And nothing else—makeup, or any kind of concept alluded towards—today is just an excuse for them to wear a cape.

Halloween is the day all of your dreams come true. For some of you anyway. I get dressing up and going to a party—I wish I had. I don’t get waking up early to get dressed up to go to school. I don’t think I need to point out that costumes are bulky, annoying and unnecessary in such a setting. I think Halloween makes it acceptable for some people to do things that they would otherwise feel unable to do—unable because of social convention and/or fear. You may have noticed these people walking around waiting to be noticed. It feels too much like revelation, like they want me to look into their soul and identify or reaffirm something for them. For instance, if you’ve ever wanted to dye your hair pink and Mohawk it, but are too much of a pussy to actually do it for real, Halloween provides the perfect excuse. If you’ve been waiting to come out of the closet for awhile, you could wear a purple shirt with purple fairy wings and walk around with an apprehensively lusty homoerotic look on your face (as one individual in my class chose to do. He had that 'bottom' look about him). If you’re a slut, but haven’t quite mastered the art of really trashy street wear, you could dress like a pleather-clad disco dancer, a French maid or just a big slut (there has been a high prevalence of tit today). Then there are the aforementioned lazy costumes—the capes, the weird hats, the wigs—none of which serve any purpose but to satisfy the wearers desire to express their love of Harry Potter, Humphrey Bogart, or Cher with no risk of getting beaten up. Oh, and don’t even get me started on the drag queens.

Tuesday, October 25, 2005

Retards Need Parents Too 

Hello. As you may have noticed, I've engaged in a bit of philanthropy and adopted the celebrities listed on my sidebar. I'd always wanted pets you see, but my brother had serious allergies, so I had a fish, but it died the day after I brought it home. His name was Ralph; you would have liked him. My younger cousins had those cyber-pet things, but those are just creepy and weird. A few months ago, I came upon a website that proudly advertised that it had celebrities up for adoption. I knew this was the meaningless hobby for me. So, I registered the name of the celebrity I wanted to adopt, posted a link to the registration site and went on with my day. It wasn't until the following evening that I began to question my choice and even become disturbed by a certain aspect of it. Namely, it states on the website in question that if you don't link to it, your celebrity adoption will not be reserved and someone else may post the name of that person on the site. Ok, so...we are talking about silly fictitious adoptions here, right? I mean, what gives stupidcelebrityadoptions.com the right to lease the fantastical adoption of random celebratory peoples? Where does the true authority lie? Are we really the kind of society that tolerates the kind of proprietary presumption that leads to the irresponsible and disrespectful plastering of celebrity faces on random websites and the lease of these people's names as though they were a commodity--a joke even? So, I removed the link--the address of which I can't remember offhand. And now I've grown bored of the Gallagher brothers. They're simply too fucking retarded and it's become unfunny. Liam thinks he's John Lennon. No, seriously. So, further adoptions will be happening. There are going to be big changes, people. BIG CHANGES.

Sunday, October 23, 2005

I love it and I hate it. The more anthropology courses I take, the more I’m convinced that there are researchers whose entire careers are wasted on semantics and finding the perfect label. I took medical anthropology because I have a devoted interest to epidemic illnesses and their effects on different societies. However, we have not yet explored anything remotely approaching this in form. We have spent the last month and a half on what I would consider to be introductory anthro. bullshit—labelling the “approach” of the investigator instead of focusing on the facts contained within the article. It’s gotten to the point where I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be learning anymore—should I care about the percentage of people who die of endemic malaria, or should I focus on the fact that the researcher used a “political ecology” approach in conducting his research? As of yet, I’ve been the only one in my class who seems puzzled at the lack of distinction between certain theories. Some of them don’t even have a hair to split. Fuck, just give me some Ebola already.

So, I’m studying really hard. And that’s why I’m away. In case any of you were wondering. Midterm on Tuesday, and them maybe things will resume their normalcy. Maybe I’ll write a rant about evolution. People seem to need educating on the matter--even the ones who believe in it.

Thursday, October 06, 2005

Here I Am! 

It's been two months--so what? I've been busy. I haven't been in the mood. I didn't want to talk about it. Here, have some pointless filler. Regular filler should resume soon as words are finally flowing through my brain again.

Do you believe in love at first sight? If so, what about hate at first sight? There is an individual in my "Cinema in the Third Reich" class who has managed to evoke this particular sentiment within me. I find it absolutely inexplicable--almost from the moment I laid eyes on him I felt an itchy, irritating feeling manifesting somewhere in my head and moving into my bloodstream. I had to turn away just to save myself from the glare of his perfect, angelic, virginal face. It was disgusting. I'm not really sure what it was about the face that I was so opposed to--children have perfect, angelic faces and I certainly don't want to curb stomp them. It may have been the grin--and by grin I mean ear-to-ear half moon crevice complete with eager and excited side-to-side twitching of head, not unlike an alert and happy puppy searching for his chew toy. It may also have been that my initial reaction went something like this: you've never had sex, or alcohol or drugs and probably engage in some kind of dogmatic religious ritual before retiring to bed. But again, children fit this profile and I don't want to kick them in the teeth. Whatever initial reactions I had concerning this person probably would have passed in time if my loathing hadn't culminated into something even more disturbing when I discovered that he had a personality that was eerily well suited to his face. He is one of those people who tries to laugh louder than everyone else, to be the first to answer the question, to be the first to give the teacher her metaphorical apple. He is just plain annoying. Not only that, but he makes silly and obvious points and alludes to films as though he is the only person ever to have heard of them (Like Nosferatu--which is a vampire film by the way).

So, presumably there is some fucked up reason I hate this person so much (and by hate, I mean that I would laugh and point if he were on fire and probably look for the nearest gas can), considering the fact that he has never really done anything really wrong except be silly and overly eager. Has anyone else experienced such unabashed and unreasonable disgust? Analysis is welcome, but just keep in mind that subliminal desire is an extraordinarily easy conclusion to draw.

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