Well, here it is - the culminating and ultimately definitive climax of my year and a half (2 day a week) love affair with Theory of Knowledge at Aurora High School. Go figure, this is my final blog post as well (how brilliantly timed, I know).
I'd like to take a moment just to sit right down and tell you all a story of my experience with ToK - in the form of an annotated list of course!
1. Year one begins. ToK still has that 'new car smell' whenever we walk into Mr. Norton's classroom. The whole 2 day a week thing is unique and makes us feel special - it is a nice bit of elitism that helped thread all us IB'ers together. The final recollection of the day is one that resounds in everyone's hearts: Fish do not have ears, although it would seem that they can still hear. Go figure.
2. Year one warms up. At this point, we had no idea just what ToK was really about. Heck, I don't think I actually figured that out until about two weeks ago (more on that later). In a fit of self directed learning, we tossed our hats into a debate about Egoism with Ayn Rand being the target of a much deserved jeering.
3. Year one makes us question if this is all really necessary. I still contend the following was just an extension of Mr. Norton being incredibly bored. He opened the class by throwing out a handful of props gathered from his desk drawer and telling us to make a game. We ended up with some sort of ultimately not funny version of American idol where the only clever bit was Puneet's impersonation and Kimson's absolute cluelessness about pop culture. After which Norton passively suggested that what had just happened was in fact, weird.
4. We get labtops. At this point, the year was effectively over despite it being only the beginning of second semester. From here on we would be 'working' on ToK presentations.
5. We watch ToK presentations and then do our own. The seniors presented to us some of the most boring intellectual inquisitions under a slurry of obvious distaste for what they were doing. We promised each other that in no way would ours be that boring - after which we proceeded to give some of the most boring intellectual inquisitions under a slurry of obvious distaste for what we were doing. Woops.
6. During the summer, we learn that Mr. Wilcox would be teaching ToK from there on. Uh oh... actual work.
7. Senior year starts. What is all this nonsense of a ToK syllabus? We are actually following a prescribed path? Wowzers.
8. We watch the daily show. 'Nuff said.
9. The first essay is assigned. The first essay is turned in. The first essay is significantly curved; Mr Wilcox comments with it being "pretty much what he expected."
10. We watch the daily show again. Still 'nuff said.
11. We have a project about Languages. Standard Mandarin = not fun. I've already learned 6x the info from junior year.
12. Prescribed topics are handed out as we 'work' on our final ToK presentation. Oddly enough, even with the regime change, 'work' still requires the sarcastic quotes.
13. ToK presentations were vaguely interesting this year. Time considerations are significantly higher than they probably should be, but whatever. I write my ToK essay and have an absolutely horrendous time at it. Here's to vague pronoun references and the significant reoccurance of the words: logical, reasoning, critical, areas of knowing, perception and emotion.
14. I realize it's been a good year.
I'll miss you ToK, especially as I daydream in the now band occupied 8th period without you. No longer do I have the most unique element of a schedule in the school. No more ridiculous discussions about fallacy and perception or why all history teachers hate math. No more 'work.' No more considering how I know something - back to just accepting it.
It's been fun.
OH! I ALMOST FORGOT!
15. Special Olympics.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Sunday, January 17, 2010
On Orange Juice and Why I Hate It
Taste is subjective. It is an element of perception that is unique to the individual, and indeed one that varies widely between each of us.
Still, I posit that if there were one foodstuff that could be universally considered a slew of negative adjectives (horrible, tantric, vomitous) it would be orange juice. I stake this opinion on the grounds of taste composition, and social effect.
First, the taste composition. What exactly is orange juice supposed to be? It takes the natural deliciousness of a citrus sphere and convolutes it to the point of disguising ick. From my experienced tongue, orange juice has two distinct trends going on. There is the sweet wholesome motif, which is represented by the initial touch of your sensory stick. Then there is the 'edgy' in your face flavor blast. The only problem is, the textural requisites of wholesome become moot in the face of an edgy blast. Propagating issues, the 'flavor blast' is not necessarily a good flavor at all; it depends on the oranges used. I'd say that there is about a 73% chance that bad oranges were used. And then there is the situation where companies will try and sweeten their beverages in order to hide those lackluster oranges. Furthermore, the taste will have a secondary depreciation as the flavor disperses. This is called an aftertaste by most. This 'aftertaste' is just... i shiver ladies and gentleman. SHIVER.
Also, under taste composition: pulp. 'Nuff said.
Secondly, there is the social impact of orange juice. We drink it primarily for breakfast. Therefore, you feel like an imbecile for drinking it any other part of the day. Any beverage that influences you're self-image based on temporal consumption is just wrong in my book. Also, orange juice is malicious in what it forces upon your physical archetypes. It makes one's tongue swell to sop up the remnants of flavor lingering in mouth. This will lead to an almost reflective look of idiocy upon the drinker as well as a sad, but immediate regret for drinking. That is just an unpleasant thing to experience both primarily and secondarily.
Therefore, orange juice is the worst drink on earth. Just, ew.
Still, I posit that if there were one foodstuff that could be universally considered a slew of negative adjectives (horrible, tantric, vomitous) it would be orange juice. I stake this opinion on the grounds of taste composition, and social effect.
First, the taste composition. What exactly is orange juice supposed to be? It takes the natural deliciousness of a citrus sphere and convolutes it to the point of disguising ick. From my experienced tongue, orange juice has two distinct trends going on. There is the sweet wholesome motif, which is represented by the initial touch of your sensory stick. Then there is the 'edgy' in your face flavor blast. The only problem is, the textural requisites of wholesome become moot in the face of an edgy blast. Propagating issues, the 'flavor blast' is not necessarily a good flavor at all; it depends on the oranges used. I'd say that there is about a 73% chance that bad oranges were used. And then there is the situation where companies will try and sweeten their beverages in order to hide those lackluster oranges. Furthermore, the taste will have a secondary depreciation as the flavor disperses. This is called an aftertaste by most. This 'aftertaste' is just... i shiver ladies and gentleman. SHIVER.
Also, under taste composition: pulp. 'Nuff said.
Secondly, there is the social impact of orange juice. We drink it primarily for breakfast. Therefore, you feel like an imbecile for drinking it any other part of the day. Any beverage that influences you're self-image based on temporal consumption is just wrong in my book. Also, orange juice is malicious in what it forces upon your physical archetypes. It makes one's tongue swell to sop up the remnants of flavor lingering in mouth. This will lead to an almost reflective look of idiocy upon the drinker as well as a sad, but immediate regret for drinking. That is just an unpleasant thing to experience both primarily and secondarily.
Therefore, orange juice is the worst drink on earth. Just, ew.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
On Virtual Reality
Worlds within a world. Secondary layers upon half truths and ambiguity; everything that virtual reality allows us. It is an escape from the constraints of the normal, boring physics and much more importantly, from the traditional action reaction. See, in a world completely programmed to be artificial, there are no 'real' punishments, no 'guilt', and no reason to conform. As long as there is a line or two of coding for it, one can really do anything.
If all of these acertations ring true, then can it really be said that any virtual reality is immersive? Immersive of course being used here to denote a blurring of the lines between the two worlds, an almost mental projection of the two inter-meshing. I purport that most people purposely destroy this sense of continuity by abusing their anonymity online. Which, I must say, is a complete d-bag move.
So then, where or what place does virtual reality take in our ever evolving lives? Well, as technology increases, the sense of physical involvement becomes more intense, leading me to believe that eventually the two will be indistinguishable minus the extraneous bits if interesting powers or perquisites. This is in itself a dangerous precipice, for if the virtual world is more interesting than ours, it is natural that the real one becomes the less desirable. See AVATAR support groups for example. For an example of this kind of immersion though, look up Disney Quest - by far the coolest of Disney attractions.
I think though, that that would be sweet. I've always wanted to shoot fireballs on command.
Too bad the real world has the food; I think I'm stuck here.
If all of these acertations ring true, then can it really be said that any virtual reality is immersive? Immersive of course being used here to denote a blurring of the lines between the two worlds, an almost mental projection of the two inter-meshing. I purport that most people purposely destroy this sense of continuity by abusing their anonymity online. Which, I must say, is a complete d-bag move.
So then, where or what place does virtual reality take in our ever evolving lives? Well, as technology increases, the sense of physical involvement becomes more intense, leading me to believe that eventually the two will be indistinguishable minus the extraneous bits if interesting powers or perquisites. This is in itself a dangerous precipice, for if the virtual world is more interesting than ours, it is natural that the real one becomes the less desirable. See AVATAR support groups for example. For an example of this kind of immersion though, look up Disney Quest - by far the coolest of Disney attractions.
I think though, that that would be sweet. I've always wanted to shoot fireballs on command.
Too bad the real world has the food; I think I'm stuck here.
Friday, January 15, 2010
On Puneet - Exemplar of Reality or Illigitimate Hound Dog?
Part 1 was so legit I thought I'd begin again for 2010.
PART DEU
This year Puneet is pulling out all the stops! Here are my grievances.
1. Keeping gum in gold business card holder. (1/1/2010)
2. Fixed the Decorum... Jerk. (1/2/2010)
3. Wearing an excessively loud green v-neck shirt on a postdate to an extremely loud red shirt (1/3/2010)
4. French or Urdu? (1/4/2010)
5. That sadness. AYFKM? (1/5/2010)
6. Dekulakization. 'Nuff said. (1/6/2010)
7. Claiming that laugh is real. (1/7/2010)
8. The sound of music. Really? (1/12/2010)
This is different enough to count as another blog post.
PART DEU
This year Puneet is pulling out all the stops! Here are my grievances.
1. Keeping gum in gold business card holder. (1/1/2010)
2. Fixed the Decorum... Jerk. (1/2/2010)
3. Wearing an excessively loud green v-neck shirt on a postdate to an extremely loud red shirt (1/3/2010)
4. French or Urdu? (1/4/2010)
5. That sadness. AYFKM? (1/5/2010)
6. Dekulakization. 'Nuff said. (1/6/2010)
7. Claiming that laugh is real. (1/7/2010)
8. The sound of music. Really? (1/12/2010)
This is different enough to count as another blog post.
On My Own Ransom Note
Last night, in a flurry of rapid fire heel clicking, I tripped and slammed my head against the keyboard. Luckily, out came a senior narrative piece which vaguely resembled my own ransom note.
With a bit of creative editing, I had fashioned it into something fantastic; oddly enough, my ransom note did indeed fit the perquisite of answering the question "Who am I?" That's disturbing in its own right.
I also wrote a script of me talking to my own clone. It's wacky, filled with terrible jokes, and somewhat blatantly sarcastic. As an eagle once said, "FOOOKWAAAA!"
In other news, my favorite direction is north, color is lime green, food is japanese, language also japanese, punctuation mark is the hyphen, tornado is Jim, and time of day 9:54. Ergo I shall post.
With a bit of creative editing, I had fashioned it into something fantastic; oddly enough, my ransom note did indeed fit the perquisite of answering the question "Who am I?" That's disturbing in its own right.
I also wrote a script of me talking to my own clone. It's wacky, filled with terrible jokes, and somewhat blatantly sarcastic. As an eagle once said, "FOOOKWAAAA!"
In other news, my favorite direction is north, color is lime green, food is japanese, language also japanese, punctuation mark is the hyphen, tornado is Jim, and time of day 9:54. Ergo I shall post.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
On Writing through the Noise
I wanted to try writing a fake ToK post where I pretend to care about something that I clearly do not. I also wrote it with the screen off, so any grammatical errors are straight up me. The result is as follows.
I am currently in a room where everyone is spouting bits of insanity, thereby causing me to be rather incapable of continuous academic thought. I hesitate between each of these sentences as I lose concentration. I'm forced to wonder whether this is a spawn of the current circumstances' intensity or a new development in my cognitive psyche. Generally, I pride myself for an almost pirate sense of concentration (pirates of course being somewhere between quite and very focused at all times).
So now, as I muse this situation I am currently locked in, I become introspective. What's up with that? Is it not akin to dragons firing their heated breath down upon the unsuspecting village? It seems strange that an approaching obstacle leads me not to examine the outside universe, but the inside me. How annoying.
Seriously; have you ever tried writing something with Kimson sitting next to you? It is like a giant gnat that needs to be slapped.
I do however believe that this is the natural tendency of a human being, to question first one's own inadequacies and then return for the outside world when one's self reveals no fault (we are incapable of seeing our imminent faults as a defense mechanism, I think) That is the nature of a thinker. I certainly like to consider myself a thinker.
Therefore, while I suppose this loud room has left me with a recognition of self. Even though I have temporarily left academics behind, I've gained.
Or, I've gained nothing. Either way, that's something.
Wait... What?
I am currently in a room where everyone is spouting bits of insanity, thereby causing me to be rather incapable of continuous academic thought. I hesitate between each of these sentences as I lose concentration. I'm forced to wonder whether this is a spawn of the current circumstances' intensity or a new development in my cognitive psyche. Generally, I pride myself for an almost pirate sense of concentration (pirates of course being somewhere between quite and very focused at all times).
So now, as I muse this situation I am currently locked in, I become introspective. What's up with that? Is it not akin to dragons firing their heated breath down upon the unsuspecting village? It seems strange that an approaching obstacle leads me not to examine the outside universe, but the inside me. How annoying.
Seriously; have you ever tried writing something with Kimson sitting next to you? It is like a giant gnat that needs to be slapped.
I do however believe that this is the natural tendency of a human being, to question first one's own inadequacies and then return for the outside world when one's self reveals no fault (we are incapable of seeing our imminent faults as a defense mechanism, I think) That is the nature of a thinker. I certainly like to consider myself a thinker.
Therefore, while I suppose this loud room has left me with a recognition of self. Even though I have temporarily left academics behind, I've gained.
Or, I've gained nothing. Either way, that's something.
Wait... What?
On Study Hall
I found this post just chilling in my list of drafts, so I figured I might as well post it.
It is an institution that most students get to experience. I, however, have not ever and will not ever be placed in a study hall. This leads an to an interesting outside perspective, I believe.
I cant for the life of me understand what it is people spend an entire period every day doing. High school students are not assigned nearly as much work as we make it out to be and have an over abundance of time to do it as long as we are not useless bafoons (some clearly are).
And then, what baffles me further is how some people manage two study halls a day. That is TWO WHOLE PERIODS of doing nothing every day. It is so utterly useless, and I am incapable of understanding whatever impetus drives them to think such is required. Do they really have so little care for academics as to shrug off the chance for at least one additional class?
All that being said... I wish I had a study hall. I like to sleep, and if for nothing else, it seems quite capable of providing an outlet for REM.
It is an institution that most students get to experience. I, however, have not ever and will not ever be placed in a study hall. This leads an to an interesting outside perspective, I believe.
I cant for the life of me understand what it is people spend an entire period every day doing. High school students are not assigned nearly as much work as we make it out to be and have an over abundance of time to do it as long as we are not useless bafoons (some clearly are).
And then, what baffles me further is how some people manage two study halls a day. That is TWO WHOLE PERIODS of doing nothing every day. It is so utterly useless, and I am incapable of understanding whatever impetus drives them to think such is required. Do they really have so little care for academics as to shrug off the chance for at least one additional class?
All that being said... I wish I had a study hall. I like to sleep, and if for nothing else, it seems quite capable of providing an outlet for REM.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
On ToK Presentations
Today, after innumerable layers of hour upon hour (about four total), the ultimate culmination of Jeremy, Puneet, and Kimson was finally revealed. It was our ToK presentation, and for thirty minutes we divulged the secrets of humor to a fledgling audience just screaming out for more. We wanted to give it to them; but not enough to actually do so.
Nevermind... It wasn't like that at all. The awesomeness was there, but I was truly glad when the 30 minutes was done with. It is not that I did not enjoy the atmosphere - as we all know, I crave more attention than any being should (therefore presenting is like crack to me) - but the questionable linkage and immediate supposition of preparation between us three who spoke.
My conclusion: three is too many in formal context. The ideas and information was well presented, explained, and digested (in my opinion). However, the flow and mojo of the piece was rather weak. My hypothesis is that Puneet, Kimson and I have personalities that in sets of two always work. However, the triumvirate is overpowering and does not mix in such a 'formal' setting.
That all being said, I will never regret the experience of creating a Benny Hill chase scene. I've always wanted to do one; for kicks and whatnot. It came out rather exceptionally well considering how informal the taping was.
So... in summation some math: J+K, J+P, P+K all acceptable.
J+K+P? DO NOT WANT.
Also, Benny Hill = awesome.
Nevermind... It wasn't like that at all. The awesomeness was there, but I was truly glad when the 30 minutes was done with. It is not that I did not enjoy the atmosphere - as we all know, I crave more attention than any being should (therefore presenting is like crack to me) - but the questionable linkage and immediate supposition of preparation between us three who spoke.
My conclusion: three is too many in formal context. The ideas and information was well presented, explained, and digested (in my opinion). However, the flow and mojo of the piece was rather weak. My hypothesis is that Puneet, Kimson and I have personalities that in sets of two always work. However, the triumvirate is overpowering and does not mix in such a 'formal' setting.
That all being said, I will never regret the experience of creating a Benny Hill chase scene. I've always wanted to do one; for kicks and whatnot. It came out rather exceptionally well considering how informal the taping was.
So... in summation some math: J+K, J+P, P+K all acceptable.
J+K+P? DO NOT WANT.
Also, Benny Hill = awesome.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
On Sunday Homework
This counts.
In some way, I find that on Saturday I'm deciding I shall sap every ounce of fun from the following day. Is it really so simple as an advancement of my natural masochistic tendencies? Could there be any other meaning beyond the obvious claims of procrastination. Do you think for one moment that in the grand scheme of whatever things, procrastination is really a wide-spread issuance; that every student's bane is some simple noun that is applicable in all cases whatsoever.
Rhetoricals - Lots of 'um.
Still, they do lead me to an interesting point. We fight so hard to disallow absolutes in our explanations, and yet it seems so natural to blame a student's laziness or lack of time management skills on an ever increasing pile of procrastinated submarine (except for the topmost) pieces of paper. Lets read between the lines/or just think beyond our own self-interested wrinkly oranges (metaphor for brains).
If it is not laziness that leads to the 'Sunday Rush' (TM) then what is it. Think about it. The entire school week has no issues with procrastination - assuming the assignment is due the following day. Week long assignments (those due on a more than one day basis) tend to be staved off in just the same way as weekend assignments. The conclusion? Either students are in fact lazy (all in exactly the same way) or (bear with me)they lack motivation to complete the assignments given for a lack of secondary reasoning.
If the only existing motivation is an atavistic A+, there is a stunning disconnect between social standards and education. Once the student realizes that a simple 90% is an easy result with minimal effort, or an 80% with the absolute lowest exertion, there is absolutely no reason to put a week's worth of effort into the procrastinated homework. Both pre-listed results are perfectly fine. In our school though, they demonstrate nothing but osmotic retention of knowledge. I certainly hope that my next surgeon remembers 80% of the procedure right?
Wait. That's a dumb metaphor for putting in effort. I forgot my own opinion for a moment...
Anyone who attempts such a linkage is stuck up and downright wrong.
High school is not about preparing for a future career. It is some strange mesh of irreverence and illegitimacy. In all these subjects that are useless or wasted or shared among those who don't care, we might as well be loaded down pregnant with excess facts and a resounding waste of time. The extra pre-emptive effort then? Hell no.
I'll continue putting everything off and just slinking by - thanks. All the time I'm supposedly procrastinating... That's when the real learning happens: programming, engineering, languages (outside of the pitiful 3 available at our school) - all that would have been impossible without 'procrastination.'
So yeah. I'll keep slacking off.
In some way, I find that on Saturday I'm deciding I shall sap every ounce of fun from the following day. Is it really so simple as an advancement of my natural masochistic tendencies? Could there be any other meaning beyond the obvious claims of procrastination. Do you think for one moment that in the grand scheme of whatever things, procrastination is really a wide-spread issuance; that every student's bane is some simple noun that is applicable in all cases whatsoever.
Rhetoricals - Lots of 'um.
Still, they do lead me to an interesting point. We fight so hard to disallow absolutes in our explanations, and yet it seems so natural to blame a student's laziness or lack of time management skills on an ever increasing pile of procrastinated submarine (except for the topmost) pieces of paper. Lets read between the lines/or just think beyond our own self-interested wrinkly oranges (metaphor for brains).
If it is not laziness that leads to the 'Sunday Rush' (TM) then what is it. Think about it. The entire school week has no issues with procrastination - assuming the assignment is due the following day. Week long assignments (those due on a more than one day basis) tend to be staved off in just the same way as weekend assignments. The conclusion? Either students are in fact lazy (all in exactly the same way) or (bear with me)they lack motivation to complete the assignments given for a lack of secondary reasoning.
If the only existing motivation is an atavistic A+, there is a stunning disconnect between social standards and education. Once the student realizes that a simple 90% is an easy result with minimal effort, or an 80% with the absolute lowest exertion, there is absolutely no reason to put a week's worth of effort into the procrastinated homework. Both pre-listed results are perfectly fine. In our school though, they demonstrate nothing but osmotic retention of knowledge. I certainly hope that my next surgeon remembers 80% of the procedure right?
Wait. That's a dumb metaphor for putting in effort. I forgot my own opinion for a moment...
Anyone who attempts such a linkage is stuck up and downright wrong.
High school is not about preparing for a future career. It is some strange mesh of irreverence and illegitimacy. In all these subjects that are useless or wasted or shared among those who don't care, we might as well be loaded down pregnant with excess facts and a resounding waste of time. The extra pre-emptive effort then? Hell no.
I'll continue putting everything off and just slinking by - thanks. All the time I'm supposedly procrastinating... That's when the real learning happens: programming, engineering, languages (outside of the pitiful 3 available at our school) - all that would have been impossible without 'procrastination.'
So yeah. I'll keep slacking off.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
On Peanuts
They are delicious. So rich and umami...
More importantly, they (it?) are (is?) a comic strip. As a side note, and this was probably more of my own deficiency than the strip's... but I was forever scarred by the sudden realization that I had been referring to good ol' charlie and friends by a completely inadequate name.
It is Peanuts. Not Charlie Brown.
Year 12 was difficult for me.
All this aside, I do have a question to ask. When is this trash excuse for comedy and social commentary going to be finally removed from pop culture annals? I know what you're thinking: "Oh my god. Is he showing anything less than an nanohertz-wise atavism in his praise of Peanuts. How dare he? Is that even legal?"
Yes ladies and gentleman. It is legal.
Peanuts is a terrible comic strip. It should not be allowed a place in the daily lime-light where its legacy can reproduce among the equally trashy readers.
Seriously, when was the last time you read a Peanuts strip and laughed? When was the last time you felt seriously and emotionally rocked by the topic being under examined?
The jokes are stale and uniform. The topicals are irreverently centered around child angst. Ladies and gentleman... "child angst." These are not the vaguely relate-able modern dramas of teen angst (which I will admit is equally balanced in the trash department). This is child angst.
Oh? Really Charlie? Your kite got stuck in a tree... again? THAT SUCKS MAN!
Why then has Peanuts immortally persisted? It is perhaps so cutting edge in its boring inaction that at the moment of its inception it became ingrained as source of completely acceptable moral humor. Tight sphincter'd past turned present leads to the cultural phenom and annoyingly high placement among comic genius.
That's my hypothesis anyway. Anality scale and whatnot.
But enough of this ranting... that girl over there is holding a football for Charlie. I bet he'll kick it this time. In fact I am relatively certain he will - the other hundred times Shultz used this tired joke has certainly disassembled by now.
ARRRRRGGGGGG!
More importantly, they (it?) are (is?) a comic strip. As a side note, and this was probably more of my own deficiency than the strip's... but I was forever scarred by the sudden realization that I had been referring to good ol' charlie and friends by a completely inadequate name.
It is Peanuts. Not Charlie Brown.
Year 12 was difficult for me.
All this aside, I do have a question to ask. When is this trash excuse for comedy and social commentary going to be finally removed from pop culture annals? I know what you're thinking: "Oh my god. Is he showing anything less than an nanohertz-wise atavism in his praise of Peanuts. How dare he? Is that even legal?"
Yes ladies and gentleman. It is legal.
Peanuts is a terrible comic strip. It should not be allowed a place in the daily lime-light where its legacy can reproduce among the equally trashy readers.
Seriously, when was the last time you read a Peanuts strip and laughed? When was the last time you felt seriously and emotionally rocked by the topic being under examined?
The jokes are stale and uniform. The topicals are irreverently centered around child angst. Ladies and gentleman... "child angst." These are not the vaguely relate-able modern dramas of teen angst (which I will admit is equally balanced in the trash department). This is child angst.
Oh? Really Charlie? Your kite got stuck in a tree... again? THAT SUCKS MAN!
Why then has Peanuts immortally persisted? It is perhaps so cutting edge in its boring inaction that at the moment of its inception it became ingrained as source of completely acceptable moral humor. Tight sphincter'd past turned present leads to the cultural phenom and annoyingly high placement among comic genius.
That's my hypothesis anyway. Anality scale and whatnot.
But enough of this ranting... that girl over there is holding a football for Charlie. I bet he'll kick it this time. In fact I am relatively certain he will - the other hundred times Shultz used this tired joke has certainly disassembled by now.
ARRRRRGGGGGG!
Sunday, January 3, 2010
On Making Noise
Need Catharsis? Is the world raining (not reigning) down a hell of stressors, steroids, uppers, downers, pokenokes, tornadoes, long lists, idiocy, metabolic issues, other warnings, screaming babies, and otherwise un-annoying people pretending to be percussionists?
Me too.
I find that sound waves can be the absolute simplest source of relief. Oddly, they are often the cause; that little fact though should be ignored for the moment.
It is not necessarily the sound, but the unrestrained and unabashed nature of letting loose and the instant gratification of ears.
Who cares?
Just scream. It is awesome.
Me too.
I find that sound waves can be the absolute simplest source of relief. Oddly, they are often the cause; that little fact though should be ignored for the moment.
It is not necessarily the sound, but the unrestrained and unabashed nature of letting loose and the instant gratification of ears.
Who cares?
Just scream. It is awesome.
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