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The Library of Discontent

Televangelist

In general I regard all attention whores in the media as little more than vacuous overflowing propaganda receptacles, leaving their refuse on the ground as more and more useless information piles on top of and slips off. These new media types, in my opinion, they all want attention, they want people big and small talking about them, spreading news of artificial and manufactured (IE: made-up) ‘controversy’ that really exists only because they know it’s a buzzword and gets people’s attention.  People like Ann Coulter, or Mike Moore.  They only want to capitalize and profit by hijacking people’s fears and pretenses and preaching to the already converted for book deals and a quick few bucks before dropping off the media radar like a shooting star, laughing their way to the bank.  They claim to speak for us, they don’t.  They speak for their corporate backers and their wallets and will say anything, no matter how stupid or crazy it is, to get that spotlight shined upon them for a few more precious seconds.

So, in general, my policy is to not waste effort saying my opinion of their opinions because in the grand scheme of things people like that do not matter, they come and go or persist only in the most slanted ideological soapboxes that will allow them to spill more of their garbage to a gradually diminishing audience.  Essentially you’re arguing with a puppet, a loose configuration of rhetoric given corporal form.  A shambling horrible media zombie, relentlessly craving ratings.  They want to offend you, and grab your attention, so I think it’s a good idea to ignore them and I wish more people would realize this and do the same.   Of course, there are exceptions for extra persistent and or insidious ones, and for that I offer these few choice words towards the individual that compelled me to write this article.  Mr.  Glenn Beck.

Now, Beck is known for saying racist, ignorant, and retarded political statements pretty much on a daily basis.  He’s also known for holding huge corporate-sponsored and funded rallies to further establish himself as the center of a ‘movement’ that has been artificially constructed to feed Fox New’s narrative of widespread political dissent towards the evil Demoncrats and their obvious facio-socialist agenda to take over our lives.  Hell, he even came close to offending me when he pretended to cry and be afraid for America, because it was such an obvious act and people still bought it.  This is not what managed to actually offend me, as, like I said, I’m fairly numb and indifferent to obvious liars only out to make a quick buck.  What got me was a simple statement, stated rather emphatically:

Two plus two equals four!

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Sharks With Lasers on Their Heads

The following conversation occured at exactly 6am, bear in mind this late at night and this tired, well… we get a little retarded.

Mister Repose

this
is
what
i
would
do
with
the
united
states
defense
budget

sharkswithlasers_fullpic_1

wardenwells
lol wut

Mister Repose
sharks
with muthafuckin lasers
on thier heads

wardenwells
how do they shoot them, or are they on all the time?

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No Hero

Over the course of my life I’m made a few mistakes, who hasn’t?  The particulars aren’t terribly exciting, and frankly bore me to explain them.  Think the typical boy-meets-girl realizes girl is fucking insane and leaves girl (or gets left by said girl) fare.  Afterward you kinda feel like the world is over if you’re the one on the other end.  It reminds me of a line from a video game, Max Payne.  ‘There are only personal apocalypses, and nothing is a cliche when it’s happening to you.’  Oh how true those words are.  In all truth, in all these cases it’s my own fault for simply not seeing it coming.

Recently actually the ball started rolling early for once.  In other words, I saw the breakup coming like a freight train.

Jeen-o been-o wrote something on her personal blog over on Open Diary (oh how I thought I’d never go back to that place again) speculating about why relationships fail, I then posted the subsequent reply:

“I think in relationships, especially long ones, people tend to believe that they love someone when in fact they only love certain aspects of their personality and so in a very passive-aggressive way try to bend them towards their will. Which leads to friction, which leads to arguing, which if not confronted leads to either a kind of bitter acceptance or total failure of said relationship. Of course that’s just my particular experience on the subject, it also may have something to do with some people being inherently cowardly or unwilling to assert their own will and so succumbs to a sort of domination by the other party.”

I have moments, between my weirdness and internal chatter where thoughts like that just bubble up out of nowhere and hit me like a truck.  These moments only seem to come for me when I’m extremely tired.  For years I used to intentionally stay up late hoping to be able to calm my defective ADD brain to the point where I could actually produce focused thoughts.

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Welcome to Bangoria

Bangoria… a land torn by strife and war.   Upon it’s shattered planes and rocky mountaintops the fires of battle burn like a bloody candlelight vigil for all the warriors who have fallen in the conflicts that sweep this ever changing land.  Warriors, mercinaries, assassins and even more unsavory types constantly sell their blades and sometimes their very souls to the highest bidder all in the name of profit and a chance at spoils.  Yet many also hope to change this world, make a difference for good but those guys are total pussies and we’re not going to talk about them.  Nay, we shall talk only of the legendary man and women who grace this theater of death.  Fir though the most well-known ones shall be revealed.

The most deadly and legendary warrior that roves this land is the mighty…. BEARMASTER.

The BEARMASTER skates into battle, on roller blades forged in the darkest mountain and infused with the blood of two liches, a red dragon, and a werebear.  The skates, as he rolls across the land, leave a perpetual bloody streak on the ground, to signify that the BEARMASTER has been there.  His weapons are two bears, that are attached to whips.  The bears are named Cuddles and Fuzzywuzzy.  In battle the BEARMASTER skates doing flips and turns while wiping his mighty whip bears into foes, causing them to suffer an instant mauling.

The BEARMASTER is a mysterious force, for he never seems to have any motive to these mauling attacks.  His glorious tanned body and loincloth (woven from the hair of powerful swamp hags that he killed because they were ugly) forming a blur of flesh toned death as he buzz saws his way across the various battlefields. His long uncut blonde hair wafting dramatically in the wind as his bears maul his foes.  Their blood splattering on his perfect white teeth that glisten brightly as he smiles enjoying the sheer carnage of war.  His loincloth bulging with a possible erection, he is truly at home on the battlefield.

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Retarded Inventors

Sometimes a combo product can be useful, like, say the swiss army knife.  Other times, combining two things together can only lead to great accident potential.  Factor in the chance that stupid people are going to buy said products and pretty soon you’re bound to get someone fucking hurt.

With that being said the device I’m talking about it very unassuming in it’s retarded design.  It’s a combination flashlight/mace can.

Well how can that be stupid you ask?

Simple, when say, your mother hands you hers and asks you to look in her house under the couches for something she dropped when you’re over and hands you a flashlight.  You think to yourself, hmm, well I don’t see anything with this flashlight.  Guess I’ll just turn it off!  That doesn’t sound so dangerous right?  Well how about when your mother fails to mention that the bottom half of the flashlight is actually a can of fucking MACE and that button isn’t the off switch but rather the mace dispenser?  Yeah, I got maced today.

It was super pleasant, see, I had the hole where it comes out of angled just right so that when I pressed it…. it shot right up my fucking nose.  Now, I’ve never been maced before so I didn’t know how much it truly sucked.  It felt like someone had taken concentrated habenro extract and poured it right inside my sinus cavities.  The burning was so intense that I felt like a black man at a Klan rally in the 30s.  Seriously, it burned so bad and the best part was I inhaled some of it into my lungs causing me to go into a fitful coughing spree all the while sneezing constantly from the delicious peppery goodness burning inside my nose like I just snorted the contents of an active volcano.

I don’t know who designed this damn flashlight, but they must have hated humanity.  I’ve seen other combo/mace flashlights but most of them didn’t think to make it so integrated you couldn’t tell the difference.  What good would those two be anyway?  Oh gee the power’s out, let me get the flashlight and turn it — AHHHH MY FUCKING EYES!!!! Crash bang boom, assorted household objects and personal injuries sustained.   Just brilliant.

… and my nose still burns.

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ADD Block

Over the course of the last month several things have been going on in rapid succession that have, in many ways left me scrambled, confused and otherwise ducking for mental cover.  Primarily when events spiral out of control I find that writing is the only way to be able to sit down, structure them, and put them in a logical order so that I can understand them.  Keep in mind that I have ADD, and being a stubborn bastard I refuse to seek medication or to seek other forms of release, such as therapy.  I do this mostly because, well, I feel that ADD is part of who I am, and therefore, being a logical and reasonable person I should be able to adjust or work around it without it destroying my life in the process.  The thing about me is that, well, I want to solve my own problems, in my own way.

There are many many article ideas for me right now, and a few that are sitting on the backburner.  They will be done, I’m sure, just not sure when exactly.  When my mind is focused on too many problems at once it’s difficult for me to be able to process it all.  Like, for example, people who may be speaking to me and saying something I find repulsive or terrible won’t realize it right away because I’m still processing it, and when I finally come to a conclusion it shocks them that it was the opposite of whatever it was they thought I was in agreement with.  I take my sweet time to consider things and then when I feel I’ve thought of every possible angle, then the decision comes.

This month I almost was fired from my job.  You see, what happened was this, at some point during the week I was asked to take the bank deposit for the store, this is a fairly normal operation and usually the bank bag is placed on the counter.  In this case, on this day, for whatever reason, after I signed the bank form … I left it on the counter.   You see I had other things that they had given me to do as well, and in the process of trying to handle my other duties, I forgot that one.  No big deal right?  Just swing back and grab the bag I thought.

Well it was gone.  Someone stole it.

So yeah, I signed the bank form so guess who nearly hanged for that one?  Yours truly.

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Black Holes and Resolutions

Well, I suppose I should inform the general readership of this site as to an important detail that I have neglected to mention for the last three months.  While I am aware that the general readership consists of basically friends of the Warden and people to whom I do not wish to associate myself with anymore, nonetheless I figured that I may as well make an announcement regarding the progress of the novel.  You see, I told myself that if I was incapable of finishing the first draft by new years eve I’d give up this foolish quest to drag myself out of poverty via literary accomplishment and accept the fact that I’ll be working horrible jobs that I hate till I finally die in my bathtub by drowning in two inches of water as a feeble crazy old man.  Sometime in November I realized I was going to actually hit my goal, by mid December I finished it.

What I did was power through the book like a man possessed.  When I reached the end I went back and read what I had.  Then I read it again and again.  I’ve read it 10 times in draft form and it was on New Year’s eve that I tinkered with the ending a little and came up with a tidy resolution that leaves questions unanswered but puts a nice bow around the main plot line.  I hadn’t posted these later chapters on the site because I knew as I was writing them, and even when I was writing the ones I DID post, that this draft version was going to be drastically different from the final edit.  Since no one comments on this site, well my articles, other than Jeen and the aforementioned people whom I am not interested in the opinions of, I didn’t think anyone would really notice or particularly care one way or another.

I left Adamus staring out a broken frame of glass that used to be a massive bay window at the top of the highest skyscraper uncertain about what will happen next but satisfied in his vengeance.  No.  I left Adamus standing on the train station to Hamburg to meet a friend he thought was long-dead.  No.  Adamus and Serra left the city and went to the ruins of the old world and rebuilt a small independent society knowing that in the end the peace they create will not last long.  No.  It could have been any of those three I suppose but it’s not.   The past three months have been a major re-tuning of the framework I created last year in the big push, because I realized something after I had finished.

There was definitely something missing from the narrative.  It seemed, to put it mildly, disingenuous; but I couldn’t place my finger on why exactly that was the case until a conversation with a friend of mine that broached the subject of the book’s progress.  He looked at me deadpan and said, “this character sounds like he has a lot in common with you.”  That’s when it dawned on me.  I had been writing this book as though the main character and I were the same person, and therefore his narrative is really my narrative.  How I would react to these situations, or at least how I’d like to think I’d react.  The problem with the finished draft was the narritive style, it was all wrong for the character and who he was.   So this re-tooling has been interesting because now I’m trying to say it like another person would.

So the main character’s a little more cowardly, a little more conflicted, and a little more confused about his role in everything.  Outside threats become more ominous, confrontations inspire more dread.  Serra’s different too, not just my idealized version of what loyalty should be, she’s more ambiguous now in her motives and plays off Adamus like a fearful element because she’s leading him, in his perspective, to do dangerous and unnecessary things.  He’s less connected.  Less in control.  In other words, more interesting because the situation in the newer version I’m working away at feels like it may have hit the right chord.

Another thing I wasn’t wholly satisfied with was my original idea to kind of have a kinda classic/progressive rock soundtrack to it.  Each chapter named after a song, each book named after an album.  Which made me try to capture the mood of each song in each chapter, giving the narration a manic and uneven feeling.  It’s not layers of plot building up to a final conflict, but many little things adding up to an abrupt end.  This version lacks that, chapters aren’t dictated by an invisible soundtrack.

So basically what I have right now is a skeleton I’m applying muscle and organs to in the hopes of zapping it like Frankenstien’s monster thus unleashing it upon the literary public to screams of horror and rage.   That’s how I roll, yo.

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The Gentle Art of Making Enemies

In general, people are gloriously uncreative when it comes to provoking others.  This is more readily apparent when you factor in my last enemies, ‘organized’ flamers.  Frankly, explaining what an organized flamer is or what their site’s are about in detail would bore me to tears.  Mostly due to the fact I’ve done it one to many times.  Lets just say they are people who put up a front on the internet as a tough guy / airport lounge quality stand up comic and think they are super clever and good at getting under people’s skin.

They aren’t.

That’s because, like many trolls and dumb asses that have long flocked to the internet due to it’s amazing ability to act as a bullet shield from people finding out how pathetic they are in real life, flamers are horribly insecure and thus have to turtle into little safe harbors where they can form cliques and protect themselves from other trolls who smell blood in the water and people who know how to hit them back.  This leads to an almost hilarious tendency for them to think that they are bullet proof, their words, being hollow, are often posted condemning their latest targets on their own web sites.  I suppose their belief was that by simply saying a version of the truth that is obviously rendered from the point of view of a delusional egomaniac, that they have scored points over people they provoke.

This is also a cowardly two-fold method to keeping their sites active so they don’t get bored.  These provocations were posted after any botched ‘invasion’ of another board.  Think Pirates, only instead of sinking ships, getting treasure, and murdering the crews of enemy ships; you have about five people basically posting ‘FAGTARDS WE OWN YOU’ till they are banned from said forum.  The idea would be, annoy enough people that you flee to your own board where the then invaded forum would feel they had the upper hand and come to your board.  Then you’d swarm them, hurl insults and act like retards till they all left and if a couple stayed you’d claim you ‘stole’ members from the other board and integrate the members that stayed into your clique.  The whole point was to keep fresh blood coming to these troll forums so that they wouldn’t get bored and turn on each other.  Outside targets and occasional members from these boards coming in would keep things active.  Then the same basic insults could be used on a whole new group of people, thus keeping things ‘fresh.’

This worked for a while, believe it or not.

Until they met a few people like me.

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Radio Silence

It’s been a while, and well, that’s a reflection on two things going on at the moment.   One is a sort of writer’s block for articles, normally I have a lot of things I want to talk about but lately I’ve been at a loss for words.   Just sitting back and absorbing the noise and the world.   Digesting it, slowly.   Getting the good bits, trying to find the important parts, trying.  The other thing is the book.

Monolithic Horizon started a long time ago, when I was around the age of twenty.   Sure other stories have come along and I’ve worked on shorts and played with a few chapters here and there for the hell of it, for a break, for whatever.   But the end result is that the book was never finished, I just sat on it.  I’ve been delaying finishing it since I started writing it because, I’m dreadfully afraid of failure.  It seems as though my preference has been been simply to not try.   When you don’t try and you fail, at least it’s easier.   When you work hard for something, when you… for whatever reason, actually care about something and it slips through your fingers or falls apart then it’s a lot harder to deal with.   At least in my case.

My whole life has been like that.  It’s something ingrained in me ever since I was a child.  So I didn’t finish the book because if I did and it never went anywhere than I could tell myself it will some day, you know… have that little nugget of hope.  If I try and fail however, then there’s no excuse.  There’s no fallback plan.   I’ll have to face a reality of being broke and probably working miserable fucking jobs I hate till I go mad.  Though, I have decided to take my own advice.  A person can’t live life in fear of something stupid like failure, or anything else for that matter.   For all intents and purposes for the large majority of my adult life this cowardly excuse has dominated my rationale to avoid finishing something that could lead to something I desperately want.  That’s why I’ve been gone for a month or so from writing here.  I’ve been pounding away on the book.

There’s three acts to Monolithic Horizon, each with distinct themes.  Act One is about the present.   Act Two is the past.  Act Three is the future. Well, this is the first time in the constant re-writes, losses, and frustrations I’ve had thinking about, working on, and conceptualizing this damned book that I’ve reached the final act.  Normally around the middle of act one I give up and go into an infinite editing look. I’m actually almost done with this god-damn thing.   The new method I’ve come up with to power through and resist editing anything till I was done has worked fairly well.   Sure once I’m actually at the end I can go through and flesh things out and fix typos, etc, but that’s not the point.   My goal was to get the rough draft done by the end of the year so I can do the final final final FINAL edit and then start sending it out.

Then I’ll re-post the first act, as the final edited version starting January next year.  It’s been seven long years, a lot of things have changed in my life and in the way I look at things, this book has been sort of like the Sun … the common experience (or object) by which everything else in my life has orbited.  In order to truly move on with my life I need to finish this once and for all.

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Fate

Somewhat recently I became interested in reading up on the Big Bang, the creation of the universe, and where this whole cosmic train is heading.  The Big Bang, well all scientists can say is that they have no way of knowing how that dot of matter came to be or why it exploded.   The big minds of that field, like Hawkings, say that because they cannot possibly determine what happened before that all they can do is work on what happened since then.   A lot of them are even agnostic, claiming that the Big Bang is proof of something, maybe not an intelligent ‘creator’ but creation itself doesn’t follow a logical premise so there has to be more to it than that.

What I wonder is what is beyond our little universe, and a more prominent question in my mind is why we are here at all.   It doesn’t make any sort of sense for there to be a universe or for there to be anything.   When you think about it in the large-scale terms why is there anything at all?   Why isn’t there just a vast never ending nothingness?   The idea of an intelligent creator, or even a catalyst for creation doesn’t make much sense.   If the universe had any sort of logic at all there wouldn’t be a universe to begin with.   Or maybe it’s some sort of rule that there mush be something, that the universe cannot just be an empty dead space.

Last night my little brother was telling me that he had to attend a seminar about how it’s important to preserve the oceans, about how it’s important to save the whales and such.   I found myself laughing.  I said that the sun will become too hot to support life on the surface of the planet after a billion years.   After two the oceans are going to be boiled and eventually dry up.   After the sun turns into a red giant in another few billion years then world will be utterly destroyed, as it sinks into the enlarged sun.  Pretty much our entire solar system will be annihilated when that happens.   After another few billion years Andromeda, a nearby solar system like the Milky Way, is going to crash into us and merge with our solar system, probably destroying all the cosmos we’ve charted.   If we’re a space-race by this point we will probably be in great danger during this event.   Assuming we live we’ll start to see a lot of the stars die out and turn into black dwarfs, after an even longer period of time we’ll witness the universe tear itself apart thanks to the law of thermodynamics.   Energy will continue to burn as entropy increases.   The end result will be a universe that slowly over time uses up all it’s heat energy and begins to degenerate into a frozen wasteland of atomic soup.   The Universe’s continued expansion will result in space tearing itself apart as things decay further, after about a few trillion years, we’ll be in a cosmological dark age where even the supermassive black holes have died out.

Basically, in a long enough time line, we are cosmologically doomed. 

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