On Team Rocket and the Mystery Raccoon/Deer Inter-Relationship

The way home tonight was riddled with ridiculous interludes of vicissitudes from the norm that were - and there is little to consider otherwise - downright brilliant. My emotions meandered the full range of a positive quadratic, although just what y value my current x juxtaposed me with was - at the time - vague, and somewhat indecisive.

The trip started when I pulled out of the parking lot at that place; you know, the place where I was... that place with the parking lot that I pulled out of; yeah, that place. My lights painted the road ahead a bleak listless bright, a small circle against the forces of pitch black. Of course, this is all just descriptive literary flourish; what I actually remember is the pounding bass background of the Pokeman theme song and my own shrill voice cheering out lyrics above the speaker's vain attempt to overtake - set to 26.

Needless to say, such a situation was not conducive to "good driving." The pumping beat mixed with an odd derivation of nostalgia and ecstasy somewhat distracts from the exactness of both position and speed. The crescendo of sound that exists ad necessitum prior to any good guitar solo and a wall of frequency seeming to resemble, "GOTTA CATCH 'UM ALL!" equivocated what I'd call a 'head bangin' good time.'

When I recovered from this sound-induced hangover, my car had somehow drifted a bit left of center (I jest of course... It was entirely left of center). This is when the world suddenly stopped making sense. Before I could swerve a quick right to "normal driving position," a deer - whose size I would classify as megahuge - walked out in front of my car. Luckily, while Chrystler is absolutely terrible at logistically good looking cars (and managing assets) they certainly know their break pads. I pulled to a stop about 2 feet before the defiant beast. The song ended, and being that it was the absolute only one by the artist (who honestly, I don't even know the name of), I was left in silence.

That jerk of a deer just kept staring at me... so I stared at him. What a belligerent little gnat! But hold on, the day has just begun. Out came a raccoon and on came a series of steps that is just list-worthy:

1. Raccoon jump on Deer's back.
2. Deer spins around in search of Raccoon interloper.
3. Raccoon is propelled along a projectile path onto car's hood.
4. Deer sees Raccoon and seems guilty.
5. I look at Deer and simply shake my head.
6. Raccoon limps to his feet on my hood.
7. I raise my shoulders as if to gesture, "I don't know."
8. Raccoon nods.
9. I raise my eyebrow as if to gesture, "WTF?"
10. Raccoon jumps off car and runs right.
11. Deer checks both directions before walking off the street in pursuit - irony.
12. I use my left hand to return my bottom jaw to its position next to the upper.

I drove home feeling oddly satisfied.

It happened.

On the Seriousness of Non-Serious Things

First of all:

Do not try to be serious. Seriousness comes from a need to be so. That being said, nothing ever 'needs' to be serious. It just is. Therefore, by several violations of logic - via means of fallacy - nothing is serious.

Following this chopped piece of rhetoric, I would like to comment on my own seriousness - which by my own chopped piece of rhetoric does not exist. Therefore, no comment on my own seriousness exists. In fact, my seriousness had an existential crisis and met Descartes and then stopped being. What it thought, it was, and therefore was not.

All this talk of my confused seriousness is perhaps leaving the wrong message. I bet you think I'm kidding. Well... Boy does this self-imposed segue segue well into the next paragraph (words that are verbs and nouns are - and there is no valid argument against this, so do not try - awesome)

I am not kidding. I am never kidding. I do not kid. In fact, I have never 'kidded' even once in my life. Some say this stems from an educational maw of 'kidding' lessons, and therefore I have been left devoid - yet, in bitter want - of 'kidding' prowess. Others argue that I lack the 'kidding' genes and therefore the 'kidding' proteins to code for the 'kidding' actions.

What I have concluded is that people who speak of my kidding deficiencies are often kidding themselves and need to grow up - and I mean this in a completely non-kidding kind of way.

In summation, some things are not serious - for example: this blog entry.

They just aren't, and making them out to be just saps all the fun out of the very environment that surrounds them.

Please stop trying to make them serious by yelling, screaming, whining, worrying, or whining.

Do not whine.

Serious.