Hollow Houses
2001-06-23 - 10:35 p.m.
So yes, I went down to Massachusetts to visit my college and take some placement tests. As I�ve never said before but should have said from the beginning, things never turn out as you plann them to. You think it�d be in the Universal Rules er sumthing...but then again, maybe it is, and I just didn�t plann for it to be. The computers at the college were busted, so they decided to take the placement tests on a different date. Basically, I signed up for classes and met a few people.
Sidenote: It seems that I have confused the words �Man� and �mann�. Prior to �The Magic Lamphouse� I used the word �mann� to represent a higher order of a masc...an ideal man, if you will. However, that definition should have been attached to the term �Man� (Caps forming the higher order and double-consonants forming alternative meanings, if you recall), and �mann� should refer to a member of the human race, male or female...and this is also compatible with the anglo-saxon version of the word. Sorryforanyconfusionthismighthavecaused.
I saw Step-brother. He is doing well, at least, that is what he says. They says the eyes are the windows to the soul. They says windows in houses are the equivalent of eyes in a human. The door is usually the mouth. When a window is opened it forms a hole in the eye of the house, a hole into the soul of the house. The soul of a house does not rest in the mahogany fireplace nor in the marble staircase, but in the people who frequent it...Step-brother was telling me about the lives of the people who live on his street. This house, 300,000,000 dollars. This one, closer to 400,000,000. Lots of zeros in his speech. But he tells me that these people have debts larger than their incomes could possibly ever afford...Some, he says, have bought a half-million dollar house and have no money left over for furniture to put inside it. Hollow houses. He tells me that the richer they pretend to be, the stingier they seem...complaining about bills and fees and whatnot. But the middle-class people, they understand how it is. They understand that when you hand them a 300-dollar vet bill (for my step-brother, he is a veterinarian-person), you are struggling to make a living, like everyone else. Butbut, the hollow houses...These people put on masks to talk to each other; masks of wealth, masks of fashion, masks of a peaceful and fulfilling life at home. In most cases, the father spents most of his time on business trips, and has to spend the rest of his time attending social events to keep up the fa�ade. The typical mother is no better, spending all day to clean up after her 2.5 children, the dog and the cat...in a house big enough for Ghandi to meditate on.None of these people seem Happy. They do the social things they do because they want to live inside the television, or because they grew up thinking that *this* was the American Dream (TM). And the plight of their house seems to be a simple metaphor to the plight of their own lifestyle...A street of hollow houses, and hollow people within.
The person I call Father has passed his homosexuality test with flaming colours. He�s become more of a fashion-oriented person than anyone else in the house, flopps his wrist around farr too much to blame on epileptics that he doesn�t have, and spends a little too much time looking at pictures of men�s boxer briefs in Maxim (TM) magazine. Not that there�s anything wrong with this. It�s just weird, that it�s Father.
My sleeping bagg still smells like weed. I let a classmate borrow it for the last couple days of school, and I guess he hotboxed it. *sniffsniff* But I guess I can�t complain mucho. *smiles*
The A+ manual (the version I have is by Michael Meyers) is wrong. �Mike� says that all RJ-port modems have two RJ-11 jacks. Several new Gateway (TM) modems, such as the one that I have, use only one RJ-11. But this will prubly be corrected when the 2002 version comes out.
Went to a religious outlet in Massachusetts, because Step-Mother needed another stole* to hang in her closet. They seemed to have eveything in that store...Bibles, of course. But also videos to teach God�s Love (TM) to children before they can read, tradable card games, bumper stickers, piles of Christian CDs, the newest trends in old women�s makeup, and Noah and Samson action figurines; from the newest upcoming apocalypse to the outdated instructions on how to �take command� of your town in preperation for the Y2K dissaster...Ever wonder where the pastor buys those little numbers that sit at the front of the church and tell you which Hymn is next, even though it�s printed in the bulletin? The answer is *here*. But most prominently was the story of Cassie Bernall�s life (written by her mother, who appeared on Oprah with the same teary eyes and greedy wallet); explaining why she told Klebold and Harris that she believed in God (TM). And this got me thinking about where the real profit is in this whole system...Creed was prubly making more money when everyone mistook them as a Christian band.
The people that I live with (Step-mother and Father) filled out a psychological checklist for Step-sister. They�re testing her for ADD because she wants to dropp out of high school and get a GED. They think maybe it�s genetic.
FutureJason had an episode with a girl yesterday...I think they got stuck in one of those were-going-out-but-not-officially relationships. The weird thing was that he didn�t know her name, and she didn�t seems to want to tell him. Instead, he avoided the situation altogether by calling her �That Cutegirl�. Eventually he started wondering why she called him �That Bald Guy�.
Menopause: From the greek root, �paus�; meaning short-lived. Literally: �the reason why men live short lives.� Of course, I made this up. But I thought it sounded pretty good.
Invention #...whatever. Name: Mix �ems. Little candies that have definitive artificial flavours. When you put two of them together, the chemical combination of the two different flavours unite, forming a totally different flavour. Warning: do NOT attempt to �taste the rainbow� with Mix �ems. The result is more accurately known as �tasting the mud�.
*a religious article for non-laity. The styled strap that is worn over the back of the neck and hangs to the knees, to decorate an otherwise plain robe.
