It Isn't Ironic!

I am tired of all these fucking 20 something dipshits whose only method of evaluating or describing works is "ironic". People wearing stupid shirts isn't ironic. Shitty presentations of malformed conceptual deveolopments aren't ironic. You're shitty humor isn't ironic. You suck, and that isn't irony either.

You know what's ironic? The Brady Bunch Movie. The entire movie is devoted to making fun of the 70s TV iconic family, set in the back drop of the 90s. The irony comes into play only when one understands that the humor derived from the family is in their absurd attitudes, clothing, and their aparent oblivious nature. In this, the presentation makes such an effort to portray how different and "modern" the 90s are, that in only a few years time the 90s characters appear ridiculous and outdated. The 90s clothing is as unacceptable as the 70s perhaps even more so. The attitudes of the "modern" characters seem childish and narrowminded whereas the family seems completely rational, a good example would be the neighbors willingness to sell-out their lives for a little money, and the high school students who don't seem to appear to possess any means of civility or happiness. The Brady family on the other hand are goal oriented and all possess analytical skills that allow them to attain their goals even if they have been "dropped in" to the 90s.

Although a movie has yet to be made to portray the 21st Century as it is, I would venture the highlight of our social structure at this point is a successful individualistic style of living. in these 00s we have more than one can imagine, our wealth is unprecedented nor is our jaded nature. With the internet firmly planted, we have children who have grown up with the world in their hands and know nothing less. Not that people seem to be any more intelligent, we just found a way to max out our own potential. In a life of unlimited resources, the parent/child relationship changes to be much less instructive, and much more guiding. A parent would now not be preoccupied with fact giving, rather helping develop a child's moral and rational abilities. Even school's fact based methods are becoming obsolete, and can focus more on teaching a student how to learn, and how to apply knowledge. In this I believe the internet has literally lifted the minds of all those who can access it, it has made it possible for humans to reach higher states of knowledge and development much faster or at all if never before.

I have just found out about a new feature on Google Map, "Street View" where you can take a 3D trip down a street and look around. You can even zoom in and read signs, or look at people and things like that. They've only uploaded portions of less than 30 cities so far, but it shows great potential. San Diego is one of them, and my street is one of them, you can move the screen to right outside my apartment. Though when the Photos were taken I hadn't moved in yet. I was able to get an idea of the date when I passed the Spreckles theatre on Broadway, its next show listed was March 15, 2007. Interestingly enough if you look at the front end of the show boards you can see that Arcade Fire will play on April 26, which was the day I got the apartment, and only 6 days after returning from a 4 month underway. I was at the Arcade Fire performance only because I luckily walked by and noticed a few hours before the show. Imagine one day having a live Street View. You could virtually travel downtown and see what's going on. See if there's a good party or a protest. The kind of things you'd either have to see for yourself, or hear about it later, the kind of fun you can't schedule. That's the irony of the old, narrowmindedness mocked by narrowmindedness. In the broad vision of life, we act to live, not to please, we live to please, not to act.

Bush

On the eve of my departure to the harsh wastelands of Northern Illinois as my father drove me to my fated life, we listened to Mr. Bush give his first State of the Union speech, it was full of promise about how we will get the terrorists in Afghanistan and begin our War on Terror. I was fresh and young, I still had college thoughts in me, bike rides, swimming, great shape, great friends. I was motivated and ready to help fight for America.

6 years later, tonight, on the eve of my departure from the Navy, Mr. Bush once again speaks of Afghan Terrorists and more. It has become much worse. I am leaving the Navy a failure. Unable to stop terrorists. My greatest triumphs slammed in my face by my superiors as my greatest defeats. I have been shamed, humiliated, and left broken and alone. These 6 years have taken nearly everything from me. I could not listen to tonight's speech, because I am so disgusted by this government. I had lost all faith in it, save this trumpeting of my dead soul in the form of Ron Paul, but this too seems fleeting and expensive.

I won't go home tomorrow. I will simply try to get some rest. I've been sick for days, and I haven't slept right in weeks. I haven't felt alive in years.

Fotos de Mujeres?

I just made a mixed drink with 12 different liquors. whooo. It has the look of light Kahlua, but its flavor, oh my god, a Jager syrup, a vodka burn, a whiskey tang, oh my god. I took a photo of myself. I want to try to pull a "Noah".

1. Jager 2. SoCo 3. Bailey's 4. Cpt. Morgan's Passion Fruit Rum 5. Grey Goose Vodka 6. Frost Vodka 7. That other rum I'm too drunk to remember, you know, the classic stuff. 8. Amaretto di Amor? 9. Kahlua 10. Jameson Irish Whiskey 11. Chivas Regal Scotch 12. 1800 Tequila

I am watching this move in French right now, I'm sure you knew fiance' was french, but did you know it means "engaged" in French? That is, it isn't a noun it is an adjective(right?)? It isn't a person it is a situation, so the word might be French, but our definition doesn't fit, so it isn't really French. At least, not unless they use the word for everything.



p.s. the title stems from my love of porn. It knows no language barrier.

Thrown out of a Punk Show

I didn't really get kicked out. Michael did. Michael that crazy rebel who after buying a house in Aurora Colorado with his wife and baby, took a full schedule of college classes without hindering his full time desk job for the Navy. This wild man got me to come along with him to a music show downtown (after special permission from his wife) while there he drank a whole glass of beer and then in the throes of the mosh pit he lost his wrist band. The wrist band was critical in showing that he was in fact over 21, so he'd be allowed by the stage. Now the House of Blues did issue a ticket that also says he's over 21, and a receipt for the ticket, and a stamp on his right hand that verifies this as well, along with his driver's license, his military ID, and my affirmation, but the rebel Michael recklessly lost the paper wrist band in his irresponsible decision to be in a mosh pit that he wasn't allowed in without his paper wrist band that so innocently was weakened by an unexplained presence of sweat. So once security got wind of his wristbandlessness in the pit when the Circle Jerks were on their very last song, security very kindly asked Michael to leave, and even escorted him, like the gentlemen they are.

Meanwhile I was very cordially trying not to embarass these two nice ladies with my flatering glances. As I would tell Michael the full "8" on the 10 scale was dressed in fine evening attire, that complemented the high class crowd. Seeing my best friend being escorted to the exit, I assumed Michael was simply ready to leave, since the show was essentially over so I began to follow, only briefly in repose at the loss of the opportunity to further enjoy the ambiance.

Upon leaving the House of Blues my good friend asked the fine gentleman if his ticket would suffice. That is when I realized Michael had commited a faux pas and hadn't left of his own accord. At this I was momentarily overcome with emotion and I did try with my strongest voice to defend my friend's honor. If I hadn't lost my voice in the pit, I dare say I might have myself been called upon by security, for at the top of my lungs, albeit not very loud at all, I told the gentlemen that my friend was a 24 year old war vet! The gentlemen, with their distinguished careers in music crowd control, seemed not so impressed and went about their noble duty of sweeping up trash.

My good friend Michael was a bit perturbed by all of this (perhaps his heavy drinking was to blame) but I walked with him on a peripatetic and we did discuss the issue quite suffiently. In fact, I suppose the only reason that I wrote this was because I'm getting bored and nervous and this clock bullshit is really wearing me down.

The New Year

I went to an Objectivist chat room. Talked for hours with a 25 year old man in New Zealand about getting him laid. Then a Russian in west Siberia joined in. I told him I couldn't believe a Siberian was allowed on the internet, least-ways in Ayn's territory talking shit about Putin.

The important thing was that I was at home. Sitting on my couch, drinking Chapagne out of the bottle alone. Since it took me two hours to get back to this blog I'll make a list of New Year's Eves I remember.

2008 - Last night. Got slightly drunk long before 12, went to bed completely sober about 12:30. Feeling sorry for myself.

2007 - Watched people who love each other count down the new year in a bar at the Hotel Del Coronado. I was not really welcome there, but nobody stopped me. After that I wandered the beach until I laid down on one of the dunes, and there came up with the idea of killing myself on that beach, which is a resolution I have yet to fulfill.

2006 - The day I tried desperately to get my only love to celebrate with me. She had other plans. My friend Tony, who was on vacation at my house suggested I go with him to Tokyo, but instead I stayed home, played video games, watched TV and probably cried. I didn't even stay up till 12.

2005 - I don't remember. I was in Japan I guess, I was probably at the Navy's "Single Sailor Center" which is like a boys and girls club for loser sailors. I honestly don't remember much of those days. They really sucked.

2004 - I was in Stockton, I drank a glass of Champagne with my father and brother and sister. It was my first time on vacation since leaving America, four months earlier.

2003 - I was in Pensacola Florida. I didn't do shit.

2002 - Honestly I don't remember. I lived with my Dad and bro and sis in Stockton. I probably didn't do anything.

2001 - Don't remember doing anything at all. I lived in S.F. with my Mom, bro, and sis.

2000- I was alone in an empty room in a house In South San Francisco. We had just moved in. Before that we were homeless. I remember being very happy to have a shelter from the rain, and I was writing a detective story that essentially captured my experiences and emotions. Lots of killing involved.

1999-1982- uh, it gets pretty fuzzy from here. Asides, I was a youngn'. Well technically 16 isn't that young, but you know, I suck.