High Hopes

Try not to shake your booty.

Get Fresh

Mind Playing Tricks on Me

Often times during the day, I have paranoid Truman Show-like moments where I think I'm a character in a television show that every human in the world watches. What's worse is that every other human in the world also has mental telepathy, and can read my every deep, dark, and dirty thought as they manifest themselves in my brain. Fortunately for me they can only read my mind while I am in their presence, but still, not ideal when the usual thoughts going through my head are either boob, or zombie killing related. Oftentimes both at the same time.
When these revelations occur during a conversation or in groups of people, I try to throw them off track by thinking of absurd, comical situations, or attempt communication, in an effort to elicit some kind of indication that they have been listening to my thoughts the whole time. So far communication between minds have only been one-way, and the only indications of mind eavesdropping by outside parties are more then likely coincidental.
While I am too educated to actually think that the world revolves around a television program completely based on my life and daily doings, I would greatly appreciate it if at some point in the near future anyone tuning into my mental frequency would at least give me a subtle telepathic reminder that I've been staring at their chest for far too long, or that the guy making weird noises across the room is in fact not a zombie to be killed with whatever impromptu melee weapon I can get my hands on.

Diversity fact of the day:

Powder cocaine (largely consumed by wealthier citizens) and crack cocaine (largely consumed by lower class citizens) contain roughly the same amount of cocaine per gram. If convicted of possession, it takes 5 grams of crack cocaine to receive a minimum five year sentence, whereas it takes 500 grams of powder cocaine to get the same sentence.

The more you know.

I did.

Baby Talk

Why does this look and sound exactly like the national discourse of this same subject?

Stop Ahead

One might never guess how loud severed heads can really get.  I mean seriously, if I were to ask a stray passerby at what decibel level they think a severed head could peak, they would surely be wrong.  

“Well, they can’t be much louder then any other severed body part,” one might chance, “or any inanimate object for that matter.” Wrong.  

“They certainly couldn’t be any louder then a head still attached to a body.” Wrong.

 “They absolutely couldn’t be louder then a head still attached to an living body.” Wrong.  Wrong. Wrong.

While I couldn’t tell you the exact reading a severed head might clock on a Scosche Spl 1000f 135 DB Max spl decibel reader, I would be willing to say that they usually range somewhere between a howling fire truck and a construction crew pounding concrete right outside your bedroom window at 7 in the morning after you spent the previous evening pounding tall boy cans of PBR.  They are quite the noisy little things, for how small they are compared to said fire engines and jackhammers. Especially when compared to said fire engines and jackhammers.   In fact, I might be exposing my hand too early here in saying, don’t bank on the fact that these noise makers are going to be able to mask the sound a severed head makes when placed under your bed for more then a day or two.  There is just no competition.  They are the USA Olympic basketball team of making noise.  The 1992 Barcelona Olympic Dream Team obviously, as none of the ensuing “Dream Teams” were really worth that much of a damn.

Although I must say, severed heads aside, Christian Laettner should have never even been considered for a spot on that roster.  His decibel levels range somewhere between me taking a shit after pounding PBR tall boys all night and me throwing up at the thought of Christian Laettner being considered for a spot on the 1992 USA Olympic Dream Team.   Disgusting really.

I would never be so boastful as to claim expertise in the severed head decibel level field of study, but I would like to think that after babysitting a few boisterous craniums here and there, I might be the leading researcher amongst my colleagues in this field.  You must understand, for obvious reasons, there have not been many published articles or scholarly reports written on the subject, but of the associates I have compared notes with, we have generally concluded, scientifically speaking of course, that severed heads are loud as fuck.

One day it'll all make sense.

Mike Rock

Because sometimes the past is too good to not look back on.

A Meaning of Life

Sometimes there are things running through your head that you just can't get out in words, or express them the way you want. Sometimes other people have those same things swirling around in their thought cages and are more capable of making those thoughts tangible. Luckily for me that other person happens to be a friend of mine and also happens to write a blog that I happen to enjoy reading. Here is one of such blogs about topics I think about ceaselessly. Bryan, thanks for having the skill to put thoughts to words.

I am human. I am the result of a series of accidents. My very existence is purely coincidental. I was born out of chaos and unto chaos in the form of my body. It has arms, legs, a mouth, a nose, toenails and a clavicle, among other things. Most importantly, my body has a brain. My brain controls my body--everything from my eyelids to my liver. Interestingly, my brain controls my liver without having the slightest idea of how a liver works at the conscious level. My brain controls all kinds of things I don't understand, yet controls them with perfection. Without my brain, I would cease to exist. My body would remain, but an immaterial part of me would vanish. You see, I am my body, but much more.

I am human. I was born out of chaos and unto chaos, a human body paired with a human soul. By pure coincidence, I appeared in this universe, on this planet with billions of others like me. By pure coincidence, I appeared on a certain part of this huge earth, in this vast universe, amongst a handful of other humans who look and think and feel and exist very much like I do. They make the world a less lonely place.

I am Bryan. I am identified by my human body paired with my human soul--without both, I am no longer Bryan. I was born out of chaos and unto chaos. By pure coincidence, I appeared in this universe, on this planet with billions of other humans who look and think and feel and exist very much like I do. By pure coincidence, I appeared on a certain part of this huge Earth, in this vast universe, amongst a handful of family and friends. I am thankful for them, because they make the world a less lonely place. There many things that I do not know. I do not know where the universe came from, I do not know if the soul dies, and I do not know how my liver works.

All I know is that I am alive now, I have been alive for nearly 21 years, and in all likelihood I have less than 100 years left in this life as I know it. I know that I love the people around me more than anything else in this short life I have. This is as close to truth as I can get, and I can make some inferences based on these truths:

Our ultimate human drive must be to find love, and I don't quite mean it in the sense that society has developed it to mean. Love is a connection, a bond, a sense that you are not and won't be alone in this world. Love is not a sexual or physical feeling (lust) and therefore makes no distinction between gender. A man can love his best friend, his wife, his kids, or his partner. Sexual attraction and sex itself are physical manifestations of the emotion of love, but do not constitute love itself. Sex can be had in the absence of love. The ultimate drive to find love is driven by the avoidance of our greatest fear--the opposite of love--loneliness. Love is not one-sided, it is reciprocal. One-sided love is not love, but lust or desire mired in loneliness. The search for love is not the search for someone to love, but for someone to love you back.

As for where we came from and where we're going? It is enough for me to accept that speculating will never lead me any closer to the real truth. The truth will be only be revealed when the time comes. Until then, I want to be sure that I am doing my best to spread the love. The universe is like my liver, I don't know or much care to know why it's there or how it works, just as long as it does its job and gives me my fair opportunity to live and love.