The Communist Manifesto- Don't leave home without it!

Sun, 18 May 2008 04:45:40 GMT

You know how rarely i post here, so it must be decently important, right? Right.

A while ago, a friend introduced me to the band "Does it Offend You? Yeah!", an awesome, glitchy, and dirty rock band.

After one listen, I became convinced that their CD "You Have No Idea What You Are Getting Yourself Into" would make awesome beats given a serious producer who truly enjoyed the music. I needed a project to work on, had some time to kill, and felt like I could make something truly unique and enjoyable if I spent some time on it.

So I did.

I produced rap tracks with every song on the album and intend to release "Peacekeeping Volume 1: You Have No Idea What You Are Getting..." under the alias "Peacemaker" tomorrow free online as a .rar or .zip archive, complete with album artwork.

The truth is, though, is that such a release will in all probability just get swept into nothingness and obscurity forever, right?

Wrong. This is why I am asking for your help. Listen to these two tracks. If you don't like them, then you have wasted a maximum of five minutes and thirty seconds. If you do, though, then please show your support, especially those of you who make music.

I intend to submit the album's free download website to Digg.com , where websites that make it to the front page routinely get millions of hits. The only thing holding back any submission, including a piece of work like this album is the amount of digs a story gets in a short amount of time; past a threshold, it's almost certain to hit the frontpage.

If you have a digg account already, please check my notes and or tomorrow, where I will have a link to the album, and a link to it as an article on digg. If you don't have a digg account, please create one. They are free, useful, and only take a few minutes to set up. Most of all, in doing so, you'll be lending me a tremendous hand: every dig, especially early digs, count immensely towards
getting a story or piece of art on the front page.

If you enjoy what I have to offer, please take a minute and help out a fellow Bemanistyle Artist tomorrow when I release the full album.

If not, sorry I stole your five minutes.

-Peace

I Wish This Was a Battle
Royale-http://helixeternal.com/hosted/I%20Wish%20This%20Was%20a%20Battle%20Royale.mp3

Public Science Announcement-http://helixeternal.com/hosted/Public%20Science%20Announcement.mp3

Sat, 03 Nov 2007 06:40:29 GMT

whoops... headbutting a wall is not fucking cool, no matter how pissed off you are at the end of another night that ended up not badly at all, bet certainly nowhere near as well as I would have wished. Again.

Tue, 30 Oct 2007 03:20:13 GMT

somewhere along the line, I guess I got pretty sketchy. And yet, somehow, as different as college is, and as different as I am, often, I have to deal with the same shit as high school. The trick is to start handling a different way, I think. I do believe I'm going to try that.

Fri, 17 Aug 2007 04:02:07 GMT

The title livejournal is misleading. A journal implies something private, something that exists as a receptacle for thoughts at the end (or beggining) of a day, meant to be read by a future you, or to keep you sane. On livejournal, however, you can't post the thoughts that really matter, because they will be shared with whatever friends are on livejournal. If you are posting, somehow, an entry which only you can read, why the hell are you on the internet. If you are posting for the world to see, chances are they probably aren't your most private thoughts anyways. Livejournal is good because it allows people to (however frequently or infrequently they choose)keep eachother updated on their lives. But its not a journal, and never can be.

It is, however, brilliant for bulletins like this.

talk to me if you're interested in coming to what is tentatively being named "night of champions". If you don't know what it is, and can't figure it out, I don't know if you'll really want to come anyways. Space and accomodations are extremely limited- if you're interested in coming, limit yourself to one guest only please. Also note, if you are unable to attend "NoC.1", there will most likely be a slightly larger "NoC" at sometime in the near future. My intention is to set up four a summer from now on. Hope You're interested/on the guest list.

-Seaton

Wed, 15 Aug 2007 02:48:25 GMT

maybe one of you, possibly two might appreciate this.
Highlights from highemming, arranged. poetry? maybe. sort of. poetical, in some ways. a song? maybe with some work. This summer has been truly great. Today made it so much the moreso. thank you.

I close my eyes and its like there are thousands of brilliant stars

I itch and I lose feeling

and the person disapears

as the universe is swallowed up into the day

we're on this vibrant blue sea.

connected- somehow, though the wires, you're here with me

it's a lake of glass- perfect light blue and reflective

in the middle of a red desert

surrounded by massive thickets of thorm

everytime I see you move, the universe stops.

this faint glow

illuminating my face.

there;s nothingelse

i'm swimming in liquid glass

and i'm empty

where before.

there was a star in my head.

thousands of eyes watching'everyactionimake

my soul is a photocopy

cold

no-one else can stand any of us

eyes are glass globes

blue and black and clear

kind of alien

but

vaguely attractive

reality was shivering, sending ripples through the air between people

disrupting my thoughts

I'm universes away

and

you don't even wish me luck

I'm like a sculpture

an ancient sculpture carved in years far past

smooth

yet defined

marble and mahogony

sometimes the people are just such a big part of your life.

and you're trading them for...

nothing

Fri, 08 Jun 2007 10:34:11 GMT

“Still Going Strong”

Kilgore Trout was not, despite popular consensus, the unhappiest man in the universe, or even on the planet earth. This was the subject of much heated debate at the hospital: “I’m missing a finger!” Kilgore would exclaim passionately. “I’ve just hitchhiked hundreds of miles to be at a conference I can no longer attend!” He would complain, and whine, and so on.
But Kilgore couldn’t be the unhappiest man on earth, for though I’ve thrown him into circumstances which could be considered cruel and unusual, it is no worse than what an average seven year-old sees on television on a daily basis.
Listen: The most miserable man on the planet also happened to be stuck in Midland City on the night Dwayne’s bad chemicals caused him to hurt people.
His name Johns Walker, and he was quite a pathetic specimen of a man.
He was, physically, nearly the same as Kilgore Trout. He too had the same skinny, pale legs my father had. He too, had varicose veins running along his thighs. He had the same tufts of white hair. Perhaps the most distinguishing physical feature of Johns “Johnny” Walker, however, was the fact that he always wore thick, bottle-frame glasses.
Johnny Walker’s success, however, was the only thing anyone seemed to care about, though, so his looks were rendered unimportant. All that mattered was that when he spoke, people seemed to relax, and when people relaxed around Johnny, more often than not money had a habit of disappearing from those people’s wallet’s and reappearing in Johnny’s.
It was quite a remarkable phenomenon, which would not be reported directly until, while in the hospital for smoke inhalation on his seventy-second birthday, Johnny ended up reading one of his short stories aloud to the other patients. Soon after, just about everyone in the hospital reported losing money, while a grand total of $73,000.63 appeared in Johnny’s Hospital bed. Johnny didn’t know where he got his money. He never remembered working for it, but it always seemed to appear. He didn’t know that I’d chosen him to have this remarkable ability, and he certainly didn’t expect that he would soon be the most miserable person in the world.
Listen: Johnny Walker was the most miserable man on the planet because I made him that way. I gave him an extraordinary ability which could never be practically used without making him seem like an extremely suspicious character and amoral human being, and thus was only useful for getting him into trouble with the police, the FBI, the IRS, and so on. This ability was what brought him to Midland City, which was full of not only assholes, but asses too.

This is what an Ass looks like.

Other people say that this is what an ass is.

It doesn’t really make much difference- in either case, having an intimate relationship with an ass is against the law and generally frowned upon.
Johnny Walker was a writer, among other things. He was not invited to appear at the literary convention, but he saw it as an opportunity to further his career as a writer, and such eventually donated a tremendous amount of money into the construction of a new convention center even though the old one wasn’t finished yet.
Listen: Johnny Walker’s main problem as a writer was that he wasn’t particularly good. He tended to get distracted and draw pictures to go with what he was describing. He drew them with a Sharpie Marker, which looks like this:

His only good piece of literature was a short story about a man named Rabo who was the luckiest person on the planet. Any time an event was a long shot, it was sure to happen to Rabo. He would win the lottery on a daily basis and reached into his pockets weekly to see what sort of baseball tickets, dollar bills, or rare, brilliant works of art and music would materialize. Rabo lived on Pluto, where everybody else led thoroughly miserable lives. They had no sunlight, lived in extreme cold, and had to deal witch constant meteor strikes wrecking their towns and cities. Rabo lived quite happily for a century after he discovered his luck, during which time he became president and made contact with earth twice. Then, the scientists on Pluto decided that they wanted to study Rabo’s luck. They locked him in a padded room with nothing to do, and studied him from a little hole they put in the wall with their laser beams. The scientists deliberated over Rabo's condition for five years, after which time the let him go. By that time, though, the damage had already been done. Being kept around so many scientists and particularly so many numbers proved extremely difficult for Rabo, who then became affected by chance rather than luck. He got the best and worst of everything from that point on; supermodels would come home with him, only to leave him on his doorstep where he would subsequently be mugged, then find a diamond ring in the gutter. Eventually, Rabo was crushed by a spaceship sent out by the humans, who hadn’t realized that the citizens of Pluto were not only severely allergic to oxygen, but also reached an average height of one and three-quarters of an inch.
Johnny called his story “The Luckiest Man on the Planet”. It was published beside one of Kilgore Trout’s stories in an Adult Magazine called Ultrasexxx. The cover had six scantily-clad Asian women holding up a throne on which a man sat, giving the reader a thumbs’ up. It proclaimed, in giant red print across the top and bottom of the magazine “Buy This! Wide Open Beavers Inside!” Johnny bought a copy of Ultrasexxx to get a copy of his work, but never opened it. Johnny was scared to look inside because the man on the cover had a penis eight inches long and one and a half inches thick when fully erect. Johnny’s Penis was only five and a half inches long.
The Rest of Johnny’s novels were science fiction novels about how the world would have been changed if one event changed; if a person died where they should have lived or chose to eat steak instead of vegetables, and so on. They almost always involved hundreds of small explosion, leading up to one gigantic explosion at the end. They almost always also involved two characters who ended up shooting each other.
Listen: This is how Johnny would get the ideas for his stories. He would go into bars early in the morning and drink himself half to oblivion. Then he would announce to everyone at the bar that he was a famous writer, and if they gave him the name of one person who could have changed history, he’d write a story for them. He would then hitchhike his way to the nearest hotel, where the clerk behind the counter would almost always make a comment about Johnny Walker’s name and current inebriated state. “Born in 1820 and still going strong!” they would say, or “The first of the four horsemen arrives!” and so on.
Johnny Walker hated that. He always wanted to go up and write, and hotel clerks would always pester him about his name. He hated it because after chatting with the hotel clerk, he’d go to his room, attempt to remember who his latest story was supposed to be about, and fail miserably. He’d then get frustrated, and write whatever he could think of onto a piece of paper. In the morning, he never remembered what he’d written on the piece of paper, but he always qualified it as being the best idea in the bar at the time. In short, Johnny’s creative process was utter and complete nonsense that didn’t work at all.
In fact, Johnny’s writing was so horrendously awful that major publishing companies would routinely send him checks when he sent them his stories. Attached to the checks would come notes written on elegantly simple stationary, would consist of three simple words. They were “burn the manuscript.” alternatively, they would say “do not send more.” The strangest note Johnny ever got, however, he’d gotten on the same day Kilgore Trout opened up his mailbox to find an invitation to the convention. It was on a full sized piece of paper with dinosaurs scribbled across the outside. Johnny assumed it was written by a powerful person: only powerful people could get away with using a dinosaur as stationary. Dinosaurs had penises ranging from nine inches to ten feet.
*******
The note Johnny got was written by me. It was a terrible thing to do, since I knew it would put us both through no end of trouble. I did it, however, to show Kilgore that despite the fact that he was now missing a finger, had been mugged, and had slept in an adult video theatre, there was still someone unhappier than him.
Everything is relative.
*******
Johnny was in Midland City, the asshole of the universe, because on the piece of paper were written for words with a question mark: “Made for T.V. Movie?” Johnny didn’t particularly care for television. He didn’t care for much, especially not people. But he cared about fame. He cared about being successful, and so when he received the letter he sat down and had a good, long conversation with his parrot. Unlike Dwayne Hoover’s dog, or Kilgore Trout’s bird, Johnny Walker’s parrot actually talked back. Johnny had taught the parrot to say two things only: “Yes!” and “Let’s go to bed!” When he had visitors in his house, he told them that his girlfriend was both the perfect woman and that she had trained his parrot to speak. His actual girlfriend looked like this.

[picture of a male hand]

“Cat,” said Johnny Walker to his parrot one night after arriving home from attempting to write a short story in which Abraham Lincoln became a professional assassin and led a crack team of commandos called the cabinet. Abraham and his strike team journeyed all around the universe preventing crimes from happening until one day, it was revealed that Abraham had been involved in a scandal on Earth in which the wrong man was killed, and then the incident was covered up. Abraham Lincoln then killed himself in shame, and his presidency was posthumously removed.
“I’ve got a problem, old buddy. Should I go to Midland City for this movie?”
“Yes! Yes, Yes, Yes!” said the parrot. “Let’s go to bed!”
So they did.
*******
Johnny still had a problem. He lived, as so many miserable people do, in the state of New Jersey, where any of the local flora and fauna which could survive the smog, chemicals, and radiation that permeated the state was just as likely to eat you as you were to eat a bag of chips. Johnny had to find a way to get from the armpit of America to the asshole, which was somehow located in what people attempted to call America’s Heartland. Hitchhiking was out of the question because it would make him dirty, as were busses, trains, steamboats, horses, and so on.
*******

Tue, 05 Jun 2007 04:08:21 GMT

tonight and the events preceding get a thumbs up.

Mon, 04 Jun 2007 02:10:22 GMT

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X-jVAHAuiS4&mode=related&search=

Oh and I found it. It's "Every Car you Chase", mike
http://youtube.com/watch?v=ltKyaedTDUU

Fri, 01 Jun 2007 14:27:26 GMT

http://www.expertvillage.com/interviews/dobro-slide-guitar.htm

Sat, 12 May 2007 21:40:12 GMT

whoops. sorry. didn't mean that.

Sat, 12 May 2007 02:49:07 GMT

It's kind of funny and sad how
most often
Bad decisions and Fun decisions
are so often the same ones.

After a stimulating and intellectual discussion on
the how people chance
and how they stay the same

I have to admit that friends are friends are friends
and if, in spit of what both T.S. Elliot
And the infallible Mrs. Lietze tell you
It's deffinitely possible to have a human connection

And that the world ends not with a bang or a whimper
but with a relaxed stroll through fog with the best of friends.

Look who's providing small life lessons based on the day's events in poetic form now!

Sorry I never learned how to do an LJ Cut.

Wed, 02 May 2007 10:37:56 GMT

Bullshit paper on canvas #3

Throughout history, freedom has been a concept which has fascinated humans. Whole nations have been founded on the idea that everyone should enjoy certain basic freedoms and wars have been fought for that same goal. Despite its impact on the world, however, there is no truly satisfactory definition for the word. In the Randomhouse dictionary, there are no less than seventeen entries for the word, ranging from “The state of being free or at liberty rather than in confinement or physical restraint” to “the absence of or release from ties, obligations, etc.” The reason that so many definitions exist for one word, however, is simple. It is because freedom is a subjective concept- what one man considers a free society, another may find extremely limiting.
Regardless of the type of freedom being expressed, from freedom of speech to the freedom to pursue happiness, in our culture, limits are always imposed. This is because in complete freedom exists an enormous capacity for evil, which society is constantly trying to check. You cannot yell fire in a crowded theater, nor block a roadway with a protest, nor shout curse words in front of little children. You cannot take what you want without paying for it, nor kill your neighbor because he annoys you so much you cannot speak. You cannot do these things because society has set up a series of effective guards against absolute freedom, because those enjoying absolute freedom have a tendency to express the darker side of their nature.
Saul, in Richard Wright’s “The Man Who Killed a Shadow” is an example of a man who comes to understand the law, and the terrifying nature of true freedom. As a black man, he is put in the worst possible situation he could be in when he is trapped in a room with a white woman who starts screaming and attempting to force herself upon him for no apparent reason. He sees what is happening, however, in a very symbolic way- sees the woman as an embodiment of the racism he has been fighting against for his entire life. He does not try to kill a woman, nor does he even try to kill the shadow of his past, because he is not thinking in terms of murder. He is thinking in terms of silence and freedom; of being free from persecution and racism and being able to live life without this shadow looming over him. After the deed is done, however, Saul embraces imprisonment to escape his own freedom, and the terrible paradox of having a responsibility to express his freedom yet also having to check his actions and words for the benefit of others who are not truly free Wright brings up an interesting question by throwing Saul into this situation: is it possible to embrace true freedom while others around you are not experiencing the same thing? In Saul’s case, representative of modern American society, the answer is a clear and resounding “No.”
Freedom does not inherently hold a karmic charge. It is a concept which has been used and abused for both great good and great evil. It is more of a tool than a moral or social construct in today’s society, enabling countries to go to war and cultures to force themselves on one another. But it is also a tool that was used in the founding of America, in the change from monarchy to representative government, and in the emancipation of slaves. Ironically enough, however, while freedom itself is neither good nor evil, acting on the freedom inherent in humanity is always a Faustian bargain. The type of freedom in all humans is true freedom: the freedom of choice and from that stems all the other freedoms. Acting on this freedom without limits invariably results in at least some degree of evil occurring. When lighter skinned people chose to enslave those with darker skin, for example, a great evil occurred. When one group of people chose to assassinate the Archduke Franz Ferdinand, and thus sparked the start of the First World War, another great evil occurred. Any time a person or group of people chooses to exercise true freedom, freedom of choice, without regard for the laws and rules imposed on the rest of society, they indeed partake in a Faustian Bargain on a very concrete level. It is said that Faust went outside of the rules established by society by selling his soul to the devil, and because of this was able to play the violin prodigiously. People who operate outside the restrictions of society and exercise the true freedom inherent in humans, ironically enough, gain great power while separating themselves from the very thing which makes them human in the first place. Even brutes and pack-animals have the capacity for choice. Only humans have both the ability and responsibility to curtail that freedom for the benefit of others.
Perhaps the best example of this principle can be seen in the Joseph Conrad Novella Heart of Darkness. In it, a sailor named Marlow explains his own experiences with imperialism and true freedom in the African jungle. One of the most important parts of the story is a character named Kurtz, who has embraced his freedom fully, but in doing so, lost that which has made him human. Carried about on a chair like a god, he is described as “a skeleton” and Marlow tells the reader that it appears as if Kurtz is “made of ivory”. He still reports to the company, and indeed, is the leading producer of ivory, but he operates outside of all the rules. He exercises his own complete freedom by ruling with absolute power through fear; he decorates his fence with the “skulls of rebels” and refuses to let anyone treat him as anything less than a god

Sun, 08 Apr 2007 22:14:21 GMT

Bitch mother fuck fuck fuck.

Why am I decently smart at everything EXCEPT anything relating to lovelives/ interpersonal relationships?

I swear to god I'm pretty much retarded when it comes to the things that matter.

Wed, 04 Apr 2007 10:25:21 GMT

The source of Chaucer’s humor in The Canterbury Tales is, quite simply, the variation in styles that occurs with the teller of the tale. By changing voices when switching from character to character and giving each of them unique personalities and histories, Chaucer is able to create a much more effective and believable group of travelers than he would have been able to otherwise.
Each change in style in Chaucer’s writing is reflective of the character narrating the tale’s attitude and history, from the very first tale. The knight’s tale is a chivalric romance told by an older man, and as such, Chaucer writes it in a very drawn-out style. The tale itself is long enough to warrant it being split into two sections, though the knight says he is shortening the tale for the sake of the others, and is marked by use of elevated language and long sentences. For example, in describing one character’s love for another, the knight says “And so for all the world he went about/ not merely like a lover on the rack/ of Eros, but more like a maniac/ In melancholy madness, under strain/ of fantasy- those cells that front the brain” By combining these traits with the very idyllic nature of a chivalric romance and having the knight speak in a very dramatic way, which establishes him as an experienced storyteller, Chaucer is able to effectively reinforce the knight’s position as an older man and part of a somewhat archaic institution. This combination also increases the believability of the tale, since the voice fits the teller.
The change in Chaucer’s style from character to character, however, is what makes The Canterbury Tales so interesting to read. In the knight’s tale, for example, a typical sentence reads “And they were joined together by the band/ That is called matrimony, also marriage, /By the counsel of the Duke and all his peerage” The long syntax as well as the elevated language mark it as the unique voice of the knight. The Miller, however, whose tale comes next, is almost the exact opposite. The miller, is portrayed as a lower class drunkard and a truly vulgar character. Indeed, before the miller tells his tale, Chaucer informs the reader of his inebriated state, writing “The Miller, very drunk and rather pale, / was straddled on his horse half-on half-off/ And in no mood for manners or to doff/ his hood or hat, or wait on any man…” It would seem obvious that the voice of such a character would be markedly different from the knight, who is a perfect example of manners and chivalry. Chaucer achieves this difference in a number of ways- in the subject matter, in the diction, and in the syntax. Whereas the knight’s tale was about love and honor, the miller’s tale is about lust and adultery. Where the knight’s tale had very elevated language and long sentence structure, the miller’s tale is written in a much more common tone, and employs much more vulgar humor in order to amuse the reader. A perfect example of this occurs when one of the characters quite literally kisses a woman’s ass after she sticks it out of a window “Something was amiss;/ He knew quite well a woman has no beard,/ yet something rough and hairy had appeared.” Thus, the miller’s character is reflected in the style Chaucer writes- as one who would frequent pubs, and a generally uncultured character, it is no surprise that the miller would consider jokes about a woman’s pubic hair hilarious. The tale, however, does fit the teller both in content and in style, and as such, Chaucer’s change in style is warranted, and improves the quality of the piece as a whole.
By switching styles and voices, Chaucer is also able to effectively satirize whomever he pleases, including himself. In Chaucer’s Tale of Melibee and Chaucer’s Tale of Sir Topaz, he satirizes himself as a poet and scholar, portraying himself as a terrible writer and a dunce. “’Host’, I replied, ‘I hope you are not one/ to take it in bad part if I’m a dunce;/ I only know a rhyme which, for the none,/ I learnt.’” Chaucer’s rhyme then goes on to reveal that he was not lying- he is a talentless and terrible poet. He bends rhymes and adds words in simply to fit the meter and rhyme scheme, which are both exteremely simplistic. Short syntax and simple language mark both of these tales as the work of a lower class person, and the lack of humor in either tale implies that the author takes it very seriously. His tales are so awful, however, that the host stops him, saying “No more of this for God’s dear dignity!” Chaucer’s switch in style during this tale is intended to satirize himself as a poet, as well as add some humor and levity to the tales. Thus, by switching styles from character to character, Chaucer is able to not only illustrate the nature of the character and increase the realism of the tales, but also to add to the enjoyability and humor of The Canterbury Tales as a whole.

Tue, 03 Apr 2007 01:03:12 GMT

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KWqLMwU9LsI

drummania is the only rhythm game in which skills from real life actually help (and vice versa). I'd pretty much sell my soul to be this guy.

Fri, 30 Mar 2007 20:02:35 GMT

Friends, Romans, and Countrymen (or Americans).

Lend me your ears.

I got into tufts and BC!

Fri, 30 Mar 2007 02:59:51 GMT

Nor Cornell

Thu, 29 Mar 2007 21:18:25 GMT

So big surprise here,

I'm not going to yale.
{/endshocker]

Tue, 27 Mar 2007 03:08:18 GMT

Right now, though, I'm waiting for some people to get back to me, including Epic Games (who made Gears of War and Unreal Tournament) and Capcom (who are interested, but I have to wait until they get shit set up in the US which could take up to six months. Still, I've got their Senior Vice President of licensing's email and cell phone #, so I'd say that's pretty great). Also, a piece I wrote may be performed by a legit orchestra at Rutgers

Wed, 21 Mar 2007 22:30:49 GMT

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vOMcnqRXmO4

Tue, 06 Mar 2007 03:44:55 GMT

So yeah. Like I say every time I post on livejournal, maybe I'll start posting more often now that I have time again. This time, I'll admit, though, that isn't particularly likely at all. Even rarer than that- this isn't just a random link (though I may feel obligated to include one). Just me popping in to say hi and talk about my life. Basically, here's how things are going for me right now. First of all, let me say that if, by some random chance I recieved the national merit scholarship, I would be legally bound not to express it in a public forum or to anyone outside of my immediate family. So, with that out of the way, I'm going to say that I'm still waiting to hear back from colleges. I am allowed to tell you that I advanced to finalist standing in said scholarship program-and I sent that good news off to colleges pretty much the day of. A few responses were really positive (wesleyan said "congratulations! We'll put this wonderful achievement on record! Thank you" and Tufts also told me congratulations). The majority of schools just said "thank you, we'll add it to your app." Brown didn't even bother to spell my name right on the header or in the body of the text. Apparently to them, Matthe is the same as Matthew. Oh well. If they don't want me, they don't want me. As to job status- I may be getting a job doing music for an arcade game in the style of DDR, but maybe not. I got fanmail from another guy who heard my music in O2Jam yesterday, and I told him (after thanking him in amazing proportions, just like I do all my fans) that he and his friends should send e-mails to O2Jam asking for more of my music. That may be wrong, but I don't care- my old boss quit and the new guy kind of nonchalantly brushed me off when I tried to get in contact with him, saying, in all basics, Don't Call Us, We'll Call you. Oops.

The LP. Is. Broken. I'm saddened to say, cracked where the neck joins the headstock in a most frightning and mortifying way. That said, I might have some sort of a rude-box-ular device by next week. Come find me next week (or someday soon) if you are actually interested in said device.

Basically, I just keep truckin' because I don't have much of a choice.
Grinding, in some respects, is my forte- in others, it is my downfall. Take that in as many ways as you wish.

Sincerely your,
me

(p.s. how to catch a seagull
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UG98b7g6IcM
)

Sat, 24 Feb 2007 17:03:21 GMT

Laser Tag tonight, I'm thinking 7:30 or 8. will be calling people in a little.

Thu, 08 Feb 2007 23:33:51 GMT

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BBrshcS3SXs

Sun, 21 Jan 2007 20:22:00 GMT

M. Seaton- Putting the wicked awesome in wii since 8:00AM, Jan 21, 2007

Wed, 17 Jan 2007 03:36:43 GMT

Sins of Fire and Ice- Passion and Frigidity in Dante’s Inferno

In Dante Alighieri’s version of Hell, the punishment of a sin is reflective of the sin itself. People who heaped false praise on others have to wallow in their own excrement; people who were hypocrites in life must now wear robes that look light but in reality are back-breakingly heavy. But it is not just on a superficial level that punishments in Alighieri’s The Inferno are reflective of the sins themselves. One of the most significant ways in which the punishment reflects the sin is the temperature of the surrounding atmosphere. From incinerating to freezing and everywhere in between, Alighieri carefully tailors the environment to fit the sin.
To describe an action fueled by passion, most people use the phrase “in the heat of the moment.” In describing something that causes extreme anger, people are likely to say that it “made their blood boil” Even in children’s cartoons, when characters are filled with a passionate feeling, smoke comes out of their ears and the sound of a kettle boiling is played in the background. Heat has long been used to symbolize passion, and Alighieri’s Hell certainly reflects this. The sins which are generally fueled by passion are punished by some sort of high temperature. Violence, in the context that Alighieri most generally uses it, is a sin of passion. The violent against their neighbors depicted in Canto XII, for example, are forced to stay in eternity in “the river of boiling blood in which are seeped all who struck down their fellow men.” The violent against art, nature, and God, are likewise subjected to an eternity of raining flame in an arid desert. In Cantos XXI-XXII, lust (a base emotion fueled by passion) for power is punished by shoving corrupt politicians in a vat of boiling pitch. Likewise, in Canto XIX, those who sell divine offices for personal wellbeing (betrayal of the holy for corporeal pleasure) are buried upside down with their feet on fire. All of these sins are sins of passion, and thus, it is only fitting that their punishments are reflective of this. In Alighieri’s version of Hell, each punishment is a reflection of how both the sinner and society is affected by the sin. With these sins of passion, it is as if they are consumed by a fire from within. These punishments illustrate the true, destructive nature of sins of passion, and merely take what the sin does to a person, and takes it from being within the sinner to being outside of him.
Similar to Dante’s use of fire as a symbol of passion is his use of ice as a symbol of pre-meditation. When describing a cruel person, people are likely to say that he or she is “cold-hearted,” “has ice-water running through his or her veins,” or in the case of an extreme, “is a frigid bitch.” When planned murder happens in today’s society, newspapers report it as a “killing in cold blood.” Perhaps most telling of all, though, is the phrase “cold and calculating.” This is the manner in which Alighieri uses cold in The Inferno- as a reflection of a planned sin. These sins are not spur of the moment, not driven by passion, but rather calculated, and lacking in human emotion. The entire ninth circle of hell is devoted to punishing those who committed these sins, but the punishment varies depending in the severity of the sin. Caïna, in Canto XXXII, is where those who have been treacherous to their kin are punished. They are buried up to their necks in ice, but able to bow their heads against the wind and cry without the tears freezing their eyes shut. In the same Canto is Antenora , where those who have been treacherous to their country are punished. Like those in Caïna, they are buried to their necks in ice. They cannot, however, move their necks. In Ptolomea, those treacherous against the ties of hospitality are punished. They are buried to their noses in ice, and their tears freeze, sealing their eyes shut. In Judecca, those who are treacherous to their masters are completely sealed in the ice. Each of these sins is something that requires someone to be both cold (devoid of human emotion) and calculating to perpetrate it. The punishment for these sins is fitting because, like the sins of passion, it reflects what the sin does to the person, and reveals the person’s true nature. The more a person commits one of these terrible sins, the further detached from humanity, or “colder” they get. Their punishment is a perfect reflection of what the sin does to the individual, as well as society itself.