I Need Some ID And A Major Credit Card
2001-05-14 - 7:31 p.m.
There are so many things that I *have* todo on a daily basis just to stay sane. I Need to drink coke. I�ve realized that I just don�t have the time or sugar (the two necessary items for achieving the impossible) to quit right now. Maybe over the summer I�ll try to �curb that nasty addiction in 21 steps�. I Need to get some sort of physical activity; otherwise I get all tired and lasy-assed. I Need to not get much sleep. As I�ve said before, my mind goes all fuzzy when I get more than four er five hours a night (of course, five is more than four, so that last statement should be rephrased to read: �more than four�). I Need to write. That simply can�t be avoided. Way more than 21 steps here. And lastly, I Need to love. Something, anything. This is my longest-lived addiction, and believe me, I�ve been writing for a long time. Simply to appreciate the world in which I live, to keep on living, I need to love. Which explains everything about eighth grade. Maybe too much.
On that note, I�ve been thinking about anarchy lately. There�s a whole subculture of people who want nothing more than freedom in a world of corrupt values. The hippies of today, backed up by gas masks and laptops. Free connections, free software, free (declassified) information, and free minds. Down with Nike, and down with child-labor sweatshoppes. We don�t need distributors if we can find it in our hearts to respect one another. And it sounds like a good idea...and then I remember that middle-class America is telling the world how things �ought to be�, as if they have a clue what they�re doing. And it sounded so good too...pity.
Along the same lines, we just watched The Wall (Floyd) for our last class in popcult. An interesting movie, especially if you happen to have recently shaved your eyebrows and are one of those �borderline� personalities that cover themselves in a trenchcoat and don�t give two middle fingers about what most people think of your globalist philosophies. And the hammers, oh the hammers. Very nice imagery in the movie, if nothing else. Flowers included at no extra charge to the eyes.
They all talks about Einstein (�imagination is more important than knowledge�), but I say Becquerel was the real genius. The father of the universe, as we now think it to be. Someone very awesum once told me that �the whole universe is fucking.� Becquerel is the guy that allows us to justify that theory. It can all be expressed between Yukawa�s Mesons and those cute little Baryons. Before you know it, the Pions are goin� in, the Pions are goin� out...and then they go in again until a �comfortable� state is reached. Call it equilibrium or call it orgasm, it�s the same reaction. The electrons exchange back and forth freely in physical connection; driven by attraction...a force so primitive, so simple, that it can represented in the particles that make up the particles that make up the smallest particles that we can measure to date.
Long Revelation: I hate to repeat myself (reason #023 why I hate answering machines). Sister Sarah repeats herself all the time...she tells one person about her latest news, and then uses the exact same words to recount to another person about her latest news. Not that there�s anything wrong with spouting leftovers to close friends, but...I would personally siCen myself in doing it. Unless it was for emphasis (see below) or it was something excruciatingly important, that I simply did not have the time to rephrase, and had to say.
For I can�t fly, and I hate to repeat myself. (credit for the last line goes out to the Jen-who-until-recently-was-�Becca�s Jen�...I think I�ll call her JenB) "Next thing you know, yer eatin' hospital food..." -Eels
