The Fossils are mine.: .posted by ben on Oct 8 at 15:00
Sleeping in: .posted by ben on Oct 8 at 12:20
Don't wake me. I plan on sleeping in.
There's a pair of Fossil sunglasses that've been sitting in this computer lab for a week. Am I justified in taking them, or will that make me an even worse person than Rakesh already believes me to be?
fetishism of commodification: .posted by ben on Oct 8 at 09:53
continued late night somethingness: .posted by ben on Oct 8 at 01:03
Why do happy things make me want to cry? And I don't mean the rose. One example would be children's shows... they all present this wonderful world where bad things never happen, yet somehow even the children who watch them frequently end up tormenting others... I just searched for children's shows and ended up with a page detailing the death of Mr. Rogers. This is not what I need. The result of a search for "something beautiful" is (deep down in the images) something called Mr. Hill's Hat, which reminds me of Death to Smoochy. I think that's part of my issue with children's shows... people are in it for the money... and they shouldn't be there... they're screwing with minds, lying to them, and giving them the conception of the world as a place that doesn't desire to destroy them... actually the world's probably apathetic, but you get my point no doubt.
I haven't been writing enough.... that's why this is all coming out this way... best to give it structure, plot, characterization, and all those boring things that English teachers like to torment their students with instead of showing them art. I like art. I want to study art. More than that I want to make it. Art is the only worthwhile thing that people do that lasts. Maybe every once in a while someone genuinely loves someone else, but we're all aware that dies out quickly, permanently, and without question. God bless the Harvard comma. I don't like Harvard.
I really ought to go to bed now... what with the test tommorow and all... not that I have a fucking thing to do once I get home... more television... more movies... maybe even some books... sitting in some coffee shop where the only people who talk to me are even creepier than I am... I wish I weren't so angry... It's mostly at myself... for a million things I've done over the last... well pick any period of time, it's like the continuum hypothesis, the mistakes are so dense it doesn't matter where you look.... That's actually a really clever metaphor that no one will understand... I swear it is.
ga: .posted by ben on Oct 8 at 00:26
I like words that aren't words. I like those primal grunts that mean nothing. People should communicate with those more often.
What I do not like are Bezier curves, and their numerous derivatives (not in the curveature sense). Today at the Trident, before I stupidly kicked the car, we were sitting next to a collection of English people. Some were grading papers, and they all seemed more or less content. I was ready to tear my hair out. I need to find something I enjoy doing that I can afford to do.
They don't pay people to have fun... otherwise it would not be fun.
I have an architecture test tommorow, and it's not the good kind of architecture... that is to say the fun kind that people (with some notable, unobtainable exceptions) enjoy. Listening to ugly slavic opera of some sort...
My new favorite song is "Plug me in" by Add n to x. I suspect it's about dildos or something though it could just be my horribly perverted mind at work... I also think they stop singing " plug me in "part way through, and start singing "fuck me in," though once again, this could be a mere machination of my perverted mind... perverted by what exactly, I'm not sure.
I want a digital camera that doesn't suck... then I would start a photo blog that the five people who still talk to me would look at. How come Vonnegut is allowed to be depressed, but I'm not? How come I'm depressed? Why is "How Come" such a horrid construction? Since none of you bastards are going to respond, the answer is fan noise.
When does the angst stop?
ga smer blag urk ak gfa ahh guah yay ooh ahh uah na
My thoughts exactly.
like the ass I am: .posted by ben on Oct 7 at 23:14
...nearly got run over walking across 10th with Devin. As the white Audi went by, I kicked it with my Birkenstocked foot. As I expected, the car stopped, and (not as I expected) out stepped an angry Rakesh... which is unfortunate, because I like him, but he really shouldn't be nearly running me over... (or Devin for that matter). I feel much worse about this than I rationally think I should... though, no doubt, until 10 minutes ago he was telling Eric, Peggy, and god only knows who else what an ass I am.
This is why I have no friends.
blah: .posted by ben on Oct 7 at 16:11
The reason no one has done this segmentation stuff is that they won't share data with anyone. I'd say they don't want anyone to segment it, but I don't think that's it. The explanation is simpler... they're stupid. It irritates me that the difficult part of my research is bureaucracy navigation.
I finally finished Quicksilver today. Don't read it... you might feel obliged to read the other two and that would be a terrible waste of time.
I was at Prufrock's (as always) and people were playing Magic... I watched/offered outdated advice... It was very strange.
There's not really anything I want to be doing right now. I should be doing homework, but that doesn't sound appealing... so I'm just passing time. It seems wasteful. I wish I were one of those people who proudly says "I never get bored," but I'm convinced they all lie.
From this day forward I will wear only linen shirts and The Pants.: .posted by ben on Oct 7 at 15:51
grr: .posted by ben on Oct 5 at 01:13
People who don't understand logos shouldn't talk about it. The irony is far too painful. As a corollary, everyone should listen to me if they're stupid enough to bring up logos and incite a gaggle of ramblings on gnosticism to dance in my mind.
Bicycle rides make everything ok... really.
All art has naked women.: .posted by ben on Oct 5 at 01:12
problems: .posted by ben on Oct 4 at 00:52
Whenever I think I have real problems, a cat pisses on my bed, and brings it all back into perspective
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