Concerning USC football

The University of Southern California's football team, the Trojans, plays filthy football. Not really on offense, where they just send six receivers out to run around like ballerinas, but their defensive unit are a bunch of pricks. Every time I've seen USC play there are some really stupid, cheap shots taken on defense - most common are late hits on players that are already down on the ground and hitting opponent's receivers out-of-bounds. And nobody talks about it! Early in the game they posted a statistic about USC penalties: 68 yards / game, which is 105th worst in the nation - out of 119 teams! They are a bunch of overconfident, snotty players who are still hanging on to the idea that they are God's gift to football. Anyway. Happy Thanksgiving!

Stay Away From Supermarkets that are Bright as Day!!

I'm not even in the store and I'm squinting into the light that streams forth into the dark evening. I feel like I'm walking to Mexican heaven. Instead of harmonious chimes and an angelic chorus, I'm greeted by the atonal chittering of swarms of Mexican children (none older than 6) and the abrasive ululating of their parents as they suggest various fried goods and frozen pies to each other, paying no mind to their various broods.

Flying like a moth into that light, ushered in by a roaring WHOOSH! of bug-repelling wind, and right away I slip into business mode so I can avoid as many people as possible. More and more people down each aisle filling up larders with foods no one even dreamed of 50 years ago. You can buy crappy versions of everything at this grocery store - it's not the rich people's grocery but it's closer and all I need is eggs. Go go go and oh no! Dodge past the old ladies that ooze through aisles behind bulky shopping carts, looking like the tank division of the AARP. If I can break through to the meat department I could slip behind

You know I don't really know where this is going. I wanted to right another weird slanting view of a normal activity but I can't find it right now. What the hell is up with this Golden Compass movie? It's got weird declarations of war, Russian cossacks battling giant polar bears, and is that Nicole Kidman? I don't know what the hell this is supposed to be about. Hey if you're looking for a really good suspense movie, try out Mr. Brooks. I know, I know it's Kevin Costner - that's what I said at first too. But really, it's great. William Hurt is most excellent.

This is the entirety of an NFL commercial: "VOTE PROBOWL." They're not even trying anymore. The more I've "grown up" and spent time out among the population, I'm coming to loathe going outside. Just going to the grocery store requires a Zen state of mind so as to not be enraged at what's out there. I really, really hope that it's just this area. Go Broncos!

Bye bye poo poo

This has to be a joke.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QFVoLz88hiU

Japanese culture is light years away (not behind, not ahead... just... away) from ours. A bit of a culture gap, no? And how are we expected to get along well in the Middle East?

World of Confusion

Enter the thick-walled building by pulling the doors open. The pressure change causes fresh air to whoosh past you, fresh air for the workers. Someone has to open the door every ten minutes or productivity declines as oxygen levels do. Gotta keep everyone fresh. They cycle you in, sometimes just once a week, but if its busy three or maybe four times in one week. Pass through the checkpoint, they scan your card for you, these are workers that are becoming integrated into the building, and they have begun down a path from which they can't turn back, so they just grow and grow into the building and then they're pulled into the network, relying on it to provide money and food and retirement benefits if they commit enough of themselves. That's one way to go - we're here to work!

There are speakers hidden in the ceiling, and right behind you in the locker room (especially there because the lockers are closer to the middle and the clanking and buzzing is louder) and music is always drifting through, loud enough to be heard but not overwhelming, mostly just loud enough to cover the thrum-thrum heartbeat in your ears. Step right into the stepper and enter your age, weight, and how many minutes you'll be working today, then you're off! One-two, left-right, the stepper tells you how many steps you've taken and how far you've traveled, but most importantly it displays how much energy you've been using. Images embedded in the walls around you show you the latest in physical love and violence, look up look down or side to side and after working out sex and violence are hardly distinguishable! Sex is violence! And you step all the harder on the stepper, the biological puddle in your head getting excited for no real reason, and the energy you're giving away is still metered, turning over steadily as you sweat, now passing triple digits. The noise of the machines and the speakers and the flashing televisions mask the throbbing in your ears that you always tell yourself is your heart beating hard while you ignore the walls that pulse with a "thrum-thrum" when you rest against them or the irregular tempo changes when the building needs to increase its output, tending to some other area in the network.

Whew! That was a good energy turnout, you're tired, certainly too tired to upset any part of the network. Towel your sweat off now, stretch your muscles. Rest easy in that you've contributed your energy to this building, which will pass it on where its needed. Pull the glass doors open again, let another stream of air into the building for the other workers, cycling in place or running or stepping like you. Behind those thick walls your energy is for the good and betterment of all, and if you look straight ahead while in your car you don't even notice the thick black columns of smoke rising from the west.