| ...eat humans... |
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| 04:39pm 02/08/2006 |
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So, I was thinking about animals. I am one, after all. And, when I'm not thinking about myself, I'm usually thinking about things that remind me of myself. Oh, yeah.
Anyway, animals right? Crawly, creepy types, not humans and apes that can learn sign language. I was thinking about the whole argument about animals and souls...you know, them not having them? People say that, I'm serious. I read it in a book, yo. Anyway, thinking about this really bummed me out.
Why? Let's think about it. According to this belief system...that of animals not having souls; animals ceasing to be all together when they die...that the only bit of eternity that any creepy-crawler gets to experience is probably an average of twenty years (though I have nothing to base that on other than guessing...sorry...too many animals). Me, however, I get to die and go on. I don't care which particular way you happen to believe, but if you believe in some kind of way to be after you croak, then listen mother fucker. Me, who can be selfish and make weapons and decide to cause all sorts of havoc on account of my lofty frontal lobe and my superior ( like, when compared to a toad, bitches) cognitive abilities...for being biologically inclined to be able to decide which kind of evil ways to repay an offense...to have the physiology to manipulate objects in an oh so clever way and the mental capacity to invent ways to to end life...What were man's first inventions? Hunting tools, jack-hole.
So, me, descendant of hunter-killer man-ape, with all sorts of possibilities of hurting things and causing woe, I get to fucking go on to some kind of fucking eternity. Go me!
But what about fluffy bunny over there? Only kind of nasty he's capable of is in the master chamber of the bunny hole, banging missy poo rabbit pants and fathering scores of bunny-bastard bumpkins outside of the bounds of a holy marriage in the presence our lord...shit.
Or, heh, or, what about rover over there? He's got a personality, right? And miss Kitty? I'm sure they've left some steamy piles of revenge upon you precious things, but come on...atom bomb vs. poo in the shoe? We win the evil badge.
Anyway, so, what I'm thinking is...Well, you know how we have to eat meat to support this awesome brain we're supporting? (shut up, vegetarians) Well, if we're capable of heinous acts, right? And we still get to go on, right? And peaceful cow over there only gets to eat some grass for a few years before we eat it out of existence, wouldn't it be more ethical to not eat the cow, but rather to eat the human that feeds the cow? We really aren't hurting farmer boy if he gets to go on up to the pearly gates upon consumption of his physical form.
My point, I guess,....My point is eat humans. I'm spent.
-Guppy |
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| ...well, they Are....So, nya! |
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| 07:29pm 16/06/2006 |
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mood:  Beardy
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"According to Hindu tradition, Brahman is the ultimate reality. It is existence-consciousness-bliss absolute, and name and form belong to maya. As fire and its burning power are inseparable, so too are Brahman and its maya power. Brahman is the unchanging reality, whereas maya is the changing reality; like an ocean and its waves. When Brahman manifests with its maya, it becomes God, Shakti, Kali, or the Divine Mother. The Absolute becomes relative through space, time, and causation. It is God, or the Divine Mother, who creates, preserves, and dissolves this universe and all beings. In fact, human beings evolve from God, live in God, and dissolve in God; because of ignorance they are unaware of it. God is neither he nor she, but pure Spirit. The concept of gender begins at the physical level. In Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, God is conceived of as the male principle, and in Hinduism God is conceived of as both male and female"
This is beautiful. When I read it, a chord struck with in me. It is ideas like these that keep bringing me back to Hinduism, one of the oldest faiths of this world. When you listen to the teachings and think about them, you see that they ...well, they Are. Scientific experiments, if based off Vedic tradition, would have explained quantum physics long before the 1950s.
One thing, though...
"In Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, God is conceived of as the male principle"
That is because the male polarity is the active polarity. Feminine is the receptive polarity. Ladies and gentlemen, look at your genitals to get a visual. In the faiths of the I AM god, all beings are female in the face of God, because He is the creator...the actor who made every first action. For an action to be carried out, something has to be receptive, or there is no action. Without submission, there is no motion; electromagnetism won't allow it. In our case, we are the inevitable female polarity in positive action of a god who creates you. But, if In the Beginning there was only God, for an action, such as creation, to take place the only thing that God can interact with is himself...that maya aspect sure fits well there...So, in the beginning, god was itself. In the first action, he became aggressive and receptive...acted and sumbitted...became male and female...to create you, out of himself...Hrm, this sure sounds familiar...and semantics again divides the sheep until the end of time, because, mother fucker, no one ever stops an argument to agree on terms...EVER!!!
I'm spent.
-Guppy |
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| Take me! |
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| 12:16am 08/06/2006 |
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Anybody need a big hairy guy with a big fancy tv? I also come with a treasure chest of goodies and marlboro reds....oo,oo, I also have about a bazil-...nay, a gazillion movies. Oh, plus I'm awesome. Any takers? You have a month. Fight among yourselves. I'm spent.
-Guppy
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Read 6 - Post |
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| And I'm not even drunk |
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| 05:21pm 28/05/2006 |
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mood:  Preechy
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Thoughts on the nature of the "I am" Principle and the free will of man:
(Speaking of, feel free to skip this, my heathen masses.)
Let's start with a definition of God, and here we are talking exclusively big G:
A being conceived as the perfect, omnipotent, omniscient originator and ruler of the universe, the principal object of faith and worship in monotheistic religions.
The force, effect, or a manifestation or aspect of this being.
So, God must be perfect, the originator, the omnis (potent and present), and a being/personality. To be perfect in the true sense, one must be perfect in all attributes, in actuality AND in potential. This means that, at any point in time and space, a perfect being must have the ability to be perfect in the ways that may not exist yet...in a trivial sense, like being good at baseball in the B.C. because some things can only be brought into our idea of existence through experience...So, fucking how do you do that? Well, sweet-meats, let me tell you....feel free to get a drink, light a cigarette...
This is where the omnis and the first-cause aspects of God come into play; those other things inherent in the definition of Big-G God. Omnipresence can be understood as being in every thing and in every time and in every place in the same instant. Such an existence would require an infinite mind. If God is also the first cause, logically one must assume that God existed before time. You can't bake a cake if you aren't around before you take it out of the oven, ok? Taking this into account, one must assume that god lives outside of the space time continuum. And how can god create time and live outside of it? That other part of his definition, of course, the omnipotent aspect of God.
So, there's your "I Am" principle spelled out for you. He just is in a way that a finite being, so attached to living inside time's great cogs, can't quite completely understand. However, since God is omnipresent, he is also in you, experiencing through your mind everything that you experience. And since god is also an all powerful person, why not then could one glean knowledge from the place outside time that god inhabits? Wouldn't that explain your prophets, your enlightened beings, and your gut feelings? For this thought to go forward, free will must be addressed.
If you don't believe in free will, well, then, I'm sorry, mr. Robot, but you'll just have to indulge me. I feel that free will is apparent just by being alive. Cognitive thought process, Reason, mental turmoil over making choices, the whole fucking internal monologue running through your head where you weigh the strengths and weaknesses of the choices you make...the very idea of potential...were it not for free will, such processes and ideas would be completely useless things, and I cannot believe that a creation of an infinite mind would have no purpose...aside from maybe the french...
Anyway, God gave man free will (and woman, yes...and monkeys who learn sign language...lots of shit, whatever, I'm concentrating on humans because you people are them) so that no force in existence can impact said creature's choice apart from that creature himself. That's why Hitler wasn't consumed by heavenly fire, and that's why NSYNC had a reunion tour.
So, you take God's definition, you salt it with this free-will thing, and you get the central point in all my clackity-clack-typing. A being that is present in the minds of all his creatures (everything you do unto your brother, you do unto me) would have a perfect understanding of them. A being that is perfect in all aspects would therefore posses a perfect love. Such a being, knowing you and loving you, would never cast a judgment upon you. This is why we should never judge our brothers, because only god knows the full extent of one's heart.
The judgment that matters is that of the self; the only important opinion is the individual's true opinion of himself. 'God puts no man above any other', for his love is as infinite as he. This is why you should look only to yourself with a scrutinizing eye, for yours are the shortcomings you should know best. The only perfect being who's definition requires perfection also happens to live inside your head, you need only to look inward to find the guidelines for correcting yourself and you are the only being you can correct, because of free will.
God's infinite potential is there for you to choose to access, if such is your will, and will easily be brought into your existence when you truly seek him out...however, being so completely tied to time as we are, our enlightenment can only come to us through experience...consequently, this is why it is unnecessary to to be religious or go to church. You must only choose to know thyself and continue to experience. Really, truly seeking to know yourself will make you embarrassed to live in ways that are not perfect. Having this knowledge will make it easier to know how to live. It will also bring you to love, and through love you will embrace God. He's not hiding, he's everywhere. Show some respect. I'm spent.
-Guppy |
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Read 2 - Post |
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| Thoughts of a Lonely Fish |
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| 05:42am 27/05/2006 |
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mood:  nostalgic
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I can still see her eyes, that noncommittal color. I can still feel her hand in mine if I think about it long enough. When I do, I involuntarily clench. I attempt to grasp hold of that memory and experience it again. Some days it is so painful not to be holding her hand that I am consumed by the want for it. Not all days, but some...
Five fingers on both hands...so small...her ring finger wears the same size ring as my pinkie.
Oh, the follies of youth...How can a man give up on a treasure that fine? ...perhaps a little circumstance...a little fate...whatever, the past is past, and what's gone is the closest I've ever felt to union. I knew it wasn't supposed to be forever. I'm ok with the present circumstance. Things unfold as they will; you have to know your part in it. I know mine and have accepted my role, but everyone wants to play the lead. I just can't help, from time to time, to think of all that I've had and of all the steps that brought me to where I am...compare and contrast, compare and contrast....
I know that it's selfish to wish and to want. I know it's unhealthy to pine. I just can't help, every once in a while, but to look back...turn my head...peek over my shoulder at the ruin I've left for one more glimpse of the life that I had. I guess, in the end, I'm just another pillar of salt. The choosing to leave, that's the easier part. The not looking back...eh, I'm spent.
-Guppy |
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| wtf? |
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| 04:28am 13/05/2006 |
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mood:  dorky
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Why can't a man make a seemingly blanket statement on a public forum and expect not to get flack? Why must one stand accountable for what it looks like he said? I mean, just because words come out of my mouth, it doesn't mean that you can form opinions about the meaning of them...when I say 'you,' do you assume I mean you? Well, that's your problem. I'm spent.
-Guppy
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| ...Whatever... |
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| 07:25pm 09/05/2006 |
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mood:  Japanese... music: Do 'nn do 'nn doo waaa-aah. Ah-ah-Ah-uh-ahhh!
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"From fauxpaix: people who get tagged need to write a blog of their 7 weird (or unique) habits/things as well as state this rule clearly"....but I got it from Xeneth,...and I'm not tagging anyone...Whatever.
Weird Habits, by me:
1-I knock on my chest twice anytime I hear sirens.
2-I don't wear underwear and haven't in 11 years.
3-I like to pick my scabs off and suck on the open wound...pink teeth are happy teeth.....mmmm.
4-I grow and file the thumbnail on my left hand. It's a utility nail, and, like the utility belt, it has many uses.
5-I walk barefoot as often as possible because the earth rejoices in my feet. Hookworms? I say, bring 'um on.
6-I collect souls...are you using yours?
7-I sometimes pull hairs out of my nose with tweezers just so that I will sneeze...oh, yes. The sneezing consumes me.
I could keep going, but the thingy said seven, and I obey. WHOOOOOOoooooooooooo, spooky.
I'm spent.
-Guppy |
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| ...horrible pain in the balls... |
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| 12:57am 08/05/2006 |
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mood:  irritated music: none
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Sometimes, I wish I was still the me that hit people. A lot of things were easier when I just popped people who pissed me off. I didn't have to see people I didn't like; once you knock some lumps into a guy he doesn't come around much. I never had to suffer insult at another creature's insolence. Some days being civil just seems so...weak. Having to sit across the room, pretending some bitch in leather isn't a waste of skin, or having to listen to some chicken-neck prattle on about whatever I did that they have to talk at me about gets in my guts and twists horrible pain in the balls that hang between my legs. Wit seems to be a poor substitute, and my sarcasm is selective. A good hard fist is such a satisfying punctuation to some mother fucker's vocal vomit. Two knocks to the stomach really takes the insult out of a man's lungs. Sometimes I don't know why I subscribe to this buddhist shit. I'm spent.
-Guppy |
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Read 7 - Post |
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| ...Thoughts on being a man... |
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| 12:57am 07/05/2006 |
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mood:  Chinese music: The History Channel
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Thoughts on being a man:
If you're look'n for a ride, you should know I wear a saddle. If you're look'n to be ridden, you should know that I'll oblige, but if you're only look'n to just be look'n, then you should know my interest has probably died. I've no time for all that looky-look, no time for all your eyes. I refuse to give a fuck about what's not between your thighs. I've got an ever present push-me-forward placed right inside my pants that presses me upon a path of purely prurient persuasions, so don'choo be peek'n at me unless you be promise'n to come and play. Go on, now, I'm not on public display. Wh-where're your god damned ticket stubs, bitches! I'm spent.
-Guppy |
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Read 10 - Post |
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| ...Suck it, Ninja!... |
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| 04:09pm 04/05/2006 |
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mood:  disappointed music: Tummy Gumblings
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Ok, so, I'm very displeased with the UALR fire-squad situation that delayed my psychology class. I was waiting for my teacher to arrive...I was actually late myself, but, thankfully, my teacher is a bit of a late lucy himself. Whilst we waited, my classmates and I, a guy popped his head into the class and proclaimed...well, not proclaimed, actually...he actually said it in more of a matter-of-fact kind of tone, "You DO know that we're evacuating the building for an electrical fire, don't you?"
"Gasp," we replied.
I wondered where the alarms were, and what the protocols were...I mean, I know how to walk out of a building, but then what? How do I get my study sheet for the final if the buildings up in smoke? Will I actually have to go to his, ick, office!?
Well, that part worked out well enough, as we met our teacher outside and told him of the impending doom. He handed out our study sheets, and all was good in the land. The building survived, too. We didn't hear much about what actually happened, but there was one angry teacher who called 'the office' and decided it was ok to back in the building. The rooms all stank of buring, though.
So,...Mr. Ross (...or Scott? ...Well, something...some building I go to all the time...errg) Hall, I have a question. How is it ok to not have fire alarms sound when there's a fire? It was as if the smoke detectors, instead of beeping or making any kind of noise, just open a door to a closet, which sets loose about four guys who come to be condescending to poor folks who certainly don't want to die...well, at least now...by burning...in a fucking fire. Fucking hell. I'm spent.
-Guppy
By the way, suck it, ninja! Yar!:
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Read 4 - Post |
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| ...Masturbation Haiku... |
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| 04:50pm 02/05/2006 |
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mood:  Spent music: Tool - 10,000 Days
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*ahem* Masturbation Haiku, by me.
When I feel the itch
I am the one to scratch it.
Strong grip. Loose wrist. Done.
What a fun and healthy pass-time Yar. Feeling stressed? Give yourself a happy handshake...or, better yet, give one to someone else. I'm spent.
-Guppy
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| ...slip-and-slide... |
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| 07:32pm 29/04/2006 |
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mood:  French
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"Come play and ride
upon my slip-and-slide.
Come play and ride
With me."
Oh, yeah. Effin righteous. I'm spent.
-Guppy |
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Read 2 - Post |
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| ..."Marco"... |
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| 03:29am 24/04/2006 |
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mood: Disappointed with Humanity music: Song at the end of Dead Like Me
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I say, "Marco." What do you say?
"Polo," you say, and you do it immediately. That's what you fucking say, and, until today, I thought everyone knew it. Humanity, you have disappointed me. I'm spent.
-Guppy |
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Read 3 - Post |
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| ..worldly experiences... |
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| 10:14pm 18/04/2006 |
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mood:  mourning
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As I was looking through family albums today, on the floor, listening to tides of conversation change from remembrances to avoidances and back in a steady rhythm,...I began to think of the nature of change. For my whole life I've lived through change. From the simple flow of my facial hair fancies to the larger experiences of the mortal necessity that is the ending of life, my brain stuffs have been turning and working over most of my worldly experiences. A big change always puts the rest into perspective. There are so many little concerns that make up human existence that it is all too easy to be side-tracked and trapped in the trivial things...the selfish things...that facing anything bigger than yourself hits you from behind. It blindsides you because you were too busy looking in your own heart for all the signs of your own taxing worries over the he-said-she-said and the hullabaloo that is a woman's (or, as well, a man's)unattainable status...well, at least as far as 'you'-is-'me' goes. So often is one(me) assaulted by the tiny grains of our (my) sea-side sentimental sands that we forget the ocean the waits to tear down our castles and sweep away the footsteps of our fondest friends...making it all that harder to track them down and have a chat. Crossing Cantrel is much easier that crossing the Great Divide. Regardless, the meat of my speaking is that through death we learn about life and are better able to see what is there and make value judgments...the very judgments that mark us as humans. I cry because I am fallible, and I have made mistakes. I cry because any ending makes me unhappy. I always end up feeling like a D student, barely making it through...too caught up in my own drama to fully respect the great play in which we all play a role. My own part is overwhelming until I realize what the next character is forced to say. I'm spent.
-Guppy |
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Read 4 - Post |
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| ...nevermore... |
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| 11:43pm 17/04/2006 |
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I can only imagine the feelings he felt...I can only imagine the scene...I can only imagine the pain that he felt; I can only imagine his scream. Oh, what a difference a day makes. On sunday, I touched his hand, heard his voice. That was the last time; how could I know? Life can be cruel, just so. It barely even registers, so into my catholic-style grieving...alcohol in my belly, churning and turning, calling out his name. We grew up together; every sunday we met...we played together as youths...no more. Never will I take him out; nevermore will we jest. All I can do is hold onto his name and count the days until we meet again. This drink is to Carter; this drink to his life...and death...I'm spent.
-Guppy |
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Read 3 - Post |
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| ...stingy wit duh vodka... |
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| 01:22am 16/04/2006 |
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mood:  confused music: Digestive Bliss
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So, I just went to taco bell....mmmm-mmm, such a great feast of grade D beef, lowest grade deemed suitable for human consumption...oh, yes...well, anyway, the guys at Taco Bell forgot my spicy chicken burrito, so I walked back up to the window. The guy told me that they were out of spicy chicken. I wondered at the time why he didn't tell me this before I paid for it, but that's not the point of this entry. While I was standing there and waiting for the double-decker that was to replace my burrito, the window guy asked the other guy in the car that was behind me for a beer. The car-guy said he didn't have beer; he only had vodka. When he wouldn't give any to low-level-stressed-out-taco-guy the fast-food-foolie-o made a scene and jumped about a bit, and he said "I should just stick to my own shit, then," all the while shaking his own bottle of liquor about, "while you be'n stingy wit duh vodka," he concluded.
So, tonight, irate drunken minimum-wage-winners made my midnight meal. Huzzah! I'm spent.
-Guppy |
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| ...absolutely spent... |
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| 12:16am 10/04/2006 |
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mood:  Syrupy music: Nick Drake- Pink Moon
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Today...today was going...today is inconsequential. I was experiencing it and living in it until the end of it...when I...Let's just say that a piece of me died. Now, this is not in any kind of dramatic way, this slice of my being has been withering for some time, carrying on well past his time...fighting to be long after even he knows he is done...fighting for the sake of possibility, I suppose....and being, none-the-less...and then it wasn't anymore, one less possible place for me to stand; one less angle for me to see...I cried a little, like you do when things die.
Things change so abruptly. I feel blind-sided, but I should probably be happy. It's just one life, and this one keeps defining itself. I'll just set my face to the usual arrangement, I suppose.
...I just remember how very much I wanted to be...what I thought that karma had taken from me...which never really was, because it wasn't of me...and now someone else has my dream.
...
What an absolutely funny thing. I'm spent.
-Guppy |
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Read 3 - Post |
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| ...being is enough... |
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| 09:05pm 07/04/2006 |
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mood:  Squirmy music: Space Hog
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Silken, smooth, gossamer existence...fragile as the lonely garden spider's web, yet it holds me up and gives me a place to stand...
it's very...very...sticky...ah-yes.
One false step, and I could be hopelessly addicted to...this;...and, yet, if you stand for too long, tippy-tip-toeing on the safe, familiar strands of your life, you'll find that your carefully woven web will have wafted on the winds of whenever to weakly rest on the weeping earth...and that very earth upon which you stand is your own grave,...soaked through with the tears of of all your cryings and eager to consume the work of all your wanton wantings.
Still...the kindly velvet kiss of being is enough to bring me back for more and to keep me here for as long as I have been...pretending I'm a spider....spinning and spinning, who knows when I'll be spent.
-Guppy |
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Read 4 - Post |
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| ...word... |
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| 01:44am 05/04/2006 |
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Respect the alphabet. It spells shit for you. Word. I'm spent.
-Guppy |
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Read 2 - Post |
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| ...harrumph... |
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| 01:26am 03/04/2006 |
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mood:  Pitiful music: Soundgarden, bitches.
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Every time it rains my mind begins to tremble with the thoughts that seem to fall from the sky. My mouth betrays emotion as it blossoms within me; the smirk marks it mirth. I can see this well as I catch myself in the reflection of the sliding glass, a wispy man in a smokey parallel. He's coasting on up to step inside as I step outside to enjoy the plink and plunk of the downpour. Each drop is a lover's caress, and the wind becomes hands in my hair as my regard separates into equal parts. Half of me remembers and recites the encounters of long nights and many clouds past. The rest of me lingers in the wet moments of the sky's falling, drinking up the cold and swallowing the water with my skin and my hair and my clothes till my body shivers, all while my mind quivers; and I, as one, am spent.
Today, how disappointing, it rained as I was toiling under book for the sake of necessity. By the time I was night-side and home-bound what fell to me couldn't even be called a drizzle....sort of a hand-shake and a how-do-you-do...how depressing: to miss the rain. What a sad little sort I feel. Harrumph. I'm spent.
-Guppy |
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