kjpepper: (ORLY)
Does everyone have the one relation that still doesn't realize that sending email forwards is so very very 1997 and small children in third world nations have been shot for less? The latest gem was full of the usual hoax and beating recipients with the Jesus stick, but also contained this inexplicable picture:

Your own... inexplicable... Jesus.. )

This hilariously badly photoshopped layout is very evocative of some of the worst science fiction covers I've ever seen. Honestly I'm surprised that the moon's shadow is on the right side. But really my first thought was "Wow, Jesus wants to eat the world... and He cries because He knows it's full of polyunsaturated fats." Closer inspection led to wondering why He had the Moon for an ear and a gigantic nebula scar on his cheek, but more disturbing than all of that was why was His beard perfectly Just For Menned? Another look surfaced the thought "METEOR JESUS IS COMING TO DESTROY US ALL!" I challenge the rest of y'all to come up with captions for it as well.

In other news, Valentine's Day is going as well as can be expected. Snow is still coming down and now that I'm back home from my short trip into work, I am still cozily happy about this. [livejournal.com profile] sundart is making chicken parmisean for dinner, applesauce gingerbread for dessert and has dressed up all cute for my benefit. I had a few yummy moments where I was sandwiched between the two loves of my life in a happy cozy sleepy pile this morning, and I could have exploded with the happy. I capped it off by curling up in QT9's living room where I read Madison Clell's Cuckoo (and finished it in the space of an hour and a half), and very badly needed a hug afterwards. Yet another good autobiographical comic to add to the list, but I am very glad I didn't read it by myself at night. Very much with the disturbing.

Later on tonight I plan on watching brainless DVDsLOST with [livejournal.com profile] sundart. And having lots of hugs and... ugh, snuggles. (sorry, I hate that word with the passion of a thousand fire ant bites in very sensitive places. But there really isn't much else in English that covers that particular activity, which is really quite nice.) But for now, I am content to torment myself with the scent of still cooking chicken... damn, I haven't had anything since breakfast. And that was around 9. No wonder I'm about to start gnawing on furniture.

BTW - new icon. It amused me that much that there's an actual ORLY line of nail polish.
kjpepper: (shaking my head)
So this morning in [livejournal.com profile] blackfolk (I swear, I get most of my daily news from there and from [livejournal.com profile] sydneycat, it's scary) someone posted an image they'd found lampooning both the events of yesterday and the actual plane bombing of the WTC. I'm too lazy to post a copy of it, but basically it was a photo of the burning apartment complex with "10/11/06 - NEVAR[sic] FORGET" superimposed on it in big block type.

I'm sure the person who created said image wasn't thinking about the greater satirical meaning of his quick photoshop job and was just going for a cheap laugh. I fully believe that 99.9 percent of stuff created on the internet is just on the fly humor and its creators never think about what's beyond the initial giggle. That would be giving people too much credit. But I did have to consider why I found it funny when I probably should have been offended, at least, on behalf of the people that died five years ago and those that died in the accident yesterday.

The conclusion I came to was that the humor value isn't coming at the expense of those who died in both tragedies. However it is a pretty effective lampoon of the media circus, soundbites, slogan-ism, jingoism and exploitation that erupted in the aftermath of September 11. Consider: how many of those "9-11 - Never Forget" ball caps, t-shirts, signs, flags, mugs and other useless crap did you see people using and wearing afterwards? I'm willing to bet a fraction of a percentage of that stuff went to charity. Of course, that means somewhere some seriously twisted folk profited upon a nation's shock and horror and probably used either sweatshop or maquiladora labor to do it with. Then there's what the news did to it. The phrase "Nine-eleven" practically has a registered trademark following it. It's become a buzzword, not an event. The date has been transformed into this big media and political juggernaut that is used repeatedly pretty much the same way sudden loud orchestral accents are in a horror movie score - that burst of swift, from the gut emotional response. Except when dealing with horror movies, emotional manipulation is part of the fun and expected. In terms of a tragedy, it's insensitive and inexcusable. Especially considering how that nationwide emotional manipulation was used by the Powers That Be.

Is that picture offensive? Sure. However, considering the greater context, it's also funny... in an I-have-to-laugh-or-I'll-punch-something sort of way.
kjpepper: (kill you with my brain)
some essays I may need to write in the future/think other people should make their thesis topics or something:


  • the influence of new electronic media upon verbal and written communication. Specifically want to concentrate on the relatively new phenomena of e-mail, instant messaging and text messaging and how each of these have influenced language use. A narrowing of the topic would be a concentration on the origins of l33tspeak and other internet-based variations of language.

  • a long rant along the lines of How Do I Hate the Telephone, Let Me Count the Ways. Seriously, I just realized and codified that I revile using the thing in just about all capabilities, with some exceptions. Seriously, one of the primary components of most of my bad dreams lately have incorporated a ringing telephone. I seriously hear it ringing sometimes and want to either smash it or melt it into some sort of cheery plastic donut type thing. (yes, [livejournal.com profile] extrajoker, that was purely for your benefit.) I think most of it stems from the fact that 99% of the people I want to hear from communicate with me via $COMPUTERY_THING anyway, which leaves most of the calls I get that I don't immediately recognize as being "safe" (generally accomplished via ringtone) as being stuff I don't really want to hear about or deal with at that second, and/or work related acalls, but I repeat myself.

  • Arbitrary measures of success do not equal happiness. But this one I think is stating the obvious, so I probably won't write an essay on it or anything.


I wrote Dad another long ass letter last night (which is why I couldn't sleep, and some of the above points were touched upon in its six page scope). It's interesting that I find that Saturday has inspired a floodgating of letter writing suddenly... it's like once the fighting was done and I said what I had to say, I'm no longer concerned with keeping his good opinion of me enough to censor myself beyond keeping the tone of my letter formal, and one of the things that he said had been bothering me a lot and I needed to address it. I'm sure some percentage of it is a passive aggressive way of getting him to recognize that I am an individual with a mind not exactly subjugated by his will or influence, which I'm sure will frustrate him beyond belief... which actually might snap him out of his depressive funk. Goodness knows he's had no one to fight with since Mom died, and I swear sometimes those fights were what kept them going. Most of it is good for me though - I feel like a plug's been pulled, so a lot of the family related crap I've been storing up for years is finally coming out in various forms, which is good, cause it's about damn time I dealt with it.

In other news... there is one lingering bit of painful scheisse left over from the fight, which is the fact that I'm somewhat depressed about the reception to our theme. There's a very stiff divide broken down by generation over who is excited about the idea versus who is not. I'm mostly trying not to let it bother me that all of the proper "grown-ups" that we've invited have pretty much all been rather forcefully dubious about the idea, and I'm trying rather desperately not to let it bother me, as damn it, it's our party and we will swashbuckle if we want to, but now I have this pervasive vision of a group of grown-ups at my party dressed somberly and looking down at the ridiculousness of the kids having a good time and privately thinking that we should all grow up - those of them that deign to show up anyway. I won't go so far as to say that this reception has completely ruined it for me, but it certainly has made the planning more stressful and my enthusiasm for the project dull a bit. I'm sure I'll get over that in a while, but right now it's very much bugging me. Especially since all I think is "for fuck's sake, [livejournal.com profile] athene's dad dressed up for hers, why can't mine?" and of course I hear my dad saying things in response that involve jumping off bridges and my personal views on that matter, in which case (and I wish I'd thought of this response when I was twelve) I would say "That depends. Are the bridge jumpers doing it for Jesus?" And the thing was that I was determined not to let him ruin it for me after seeing one parental unit steamroll all over sydmor's and the lasting effects of THAT ungodly mess, but apparently I failed somewhere. So right now I'm waffling between thinking maybe this was an awful idea and being enraged about it enough to think whoever wrote Logan's Run might have been on to something about a society that cuts you off at $YEAR. $YEAR of course, being the whole dignity vs. treeclimbing threshold. I know I'm just being pissy at this point, but it probably is going to take a little while for me to adjust to the rage/sad storm going on right now.

I need to stop writing about that before I start crying at work. Goddamn I hate everything today.
kjpepper: (eat your skull)
I won't grow up
I don't want to go to school.
Just to learn to be a parrot,
And recite a silly rule:

If growing up means it would be
Beneath my dignity to climb a tree

I'll never grow up,
never grow up,
never grow up
Not me.


Which of course must be followed by this (sing if you know the words):

I don't wanna grow up, I'm a Toys R Us kid
There's a million toys at Toys R Us that I can play with
From bikes to trains to video games
It's the biggest toy store there is
I don't wanna grow up, because then if I did,
I wouldn't be a Toys R Us kid
More games more toys - oh boy!
I wanna be a Toys R Us kid

Somewhere in me is a rant about how identifying with either of these songs (well, the second one's a jingle) is a rejection of the traditional model of adulthood - a joyless, funless dog eat dog suit wearing stage of life with no room for things like creativity and imagination... and yes, play. I mean, the number from peter pan is a little more condemnatory, I think, especially later in the song, which is all very tongue in cheek considering it was written by adults for adults to sing on stage. And somewhere some adult had to come up with the Toys R Us jingle. And I'm sure both of these people had jobs, bills to pay, taxes, kids to feed what have you. So... what went through their minds as they were penning these songs? Did they want to climb trees or ride their new bike through a store with impunity? And there's another layer to it all when you think about it another way. My parents didn't really let me climb trees when I was little. That whole pesky possibility of falling out and breaking my neck kinda didn't appeal to them. I climb trees now. Rarely, admittedly, but I'm a lot better at it now considering that I can now actually reach and wiggle myself onto low lying branches far mre effectively now that I'm bigger. And going to Toys R Us when you're a kid quite frankly sucks ass, because you have to whine and bitch at your parents to buy you things there or allow you to have said things. When you're grown up you can walk in and buy everything in the store if you want to and have the money without running it by Mom first. It's just when you're the type of adult that these songs flagrantly object to, it wouldn't even occur to you that you have the kind of freedom and power to actually enjoy such things that most would consider childish, though I'm sure most people didn't get to have ice cream and pringles for dinner for three nights straight growing up unless they had parents with a very weak grasp of proper nutrition (Flintstones don't fix everything you know!)

Youth, maturity, and the true pursuit of happiness (which is different, but not entirely mutually exclusive from the pursuit of success) are all your head. And provided I'm still spry enough, I hope to occasionally be found in a tree when I'm all wrinkly and gray haired. Or in the Nintendo or LEGO aisle of Toys R Us, shopping for myself. Growing up, really, does not have to be awfuller of the awful things that ever were. You just have to think about it the right way... and occasionally have ice cream for dinner. Cause you CAN.
kjpepper: (there it is)
Dear Concessions Customer,

To make your moviegoing experience a pleasurable one (and because we don't see a cent from ticket sales) $THEATER is please to offer you our concession stand. However being a theater, we can't afford to pay our concessionists enough to deal with any aggravation above and beyond what they already endure to ensure that you and your food are brought together in as harmonious a fashion as possible, up to and including slippery floors, burning hot kettles, and being covered with oil, salt, soda, butter, and other substances on a near constant basis. The following guidlines are provided to make sure everyone's experience is a positive one.

1) If you are seeing a movie with a group of friends, order all your items at once. You'll get your food much faster than if each friend orders individually (especially if there is only one concessionist on duty).

2) Please order all of your items at once. Concessions computers retain your entire order on screen until it is rung out. she/he isn't going to forget anything, and ordering one item at a time slows up the line and makes your concessionist strongly consider homicide.

3) Please do not bitch about how expensive the bottled waters are. They already know, and have been bitched at at least twelve hundred times before you came in.

4) If you want layered butter in your popcorn, the time to ask for it is BEFORE the concessionist fills your bag. "Can you dump half of it out and put some butter in the middle?" is a question that's likely to get you stabbed.

4a) You do NOT need layered butter in a SMALL popcorn bag. No, seriously. The butter DOES go all the way down in a small bag. Plus, you will not thank us when you are having your heart attack.

4b) If you order your popcorn with layered/extra/smack-it-on-there butter, please realize that unlike a tub, a bag is only one layer of waxed paper and it is sometimes subject to leaks. The concessionists will have no sympathy if you ordered Super Mega Greasy popcorn and then come back to yell at them because you have a large oily stain in the lap of your $400 designer pants. They will, however, laugh at you once you leave.

5) Children below voting age should not be drinking Diet Coke. I don't care what the reason is.

5a) Likewise if you are so waspishly skinny that it looks like one of our concessionists can pick you up and toss you with no problems, order something bigger than a kids meal. Those are meant for five year olds, not sixteen year olds with too much makeup and a warped body image. And it's not like you get a toy with it.

5b) The concessionist will look at you funny if you are obviously by yourself and your order comprises a large popcorn with a crapton of butter, three packs of sour patch kids, a pack of Twizzlers, and a small Diet Coke "cause you're watching your figure." 850 vs 1000 calories isn't that much of a difference when we're talking about a single sitting. Live a little, get a root beer.

6) Do not cackle triumphantly after declining the concessionist's offer to upgrade your medium soda to a large one, or say anything to the effect of "your Sith Lord mind tricks will not work on me." The concessionists don't personally give a rats ass what the hell you order; they are required by their job to upsell you, and guess what, they hate it too. "No, thanks" will suffice.

7) If you're told that the concessionist cannot accept a tip, for the love of god, do not force one on them. Your arrogant display of "generosity" can cost this person their job. Keep your change.

8) The theater, including the concession stand, closes 15 minutes after the last movie starts. Please do not cross the barriers in hopes you will get just one more soda/refill/Goobers, whatever, and do not get snippy if you are told that the stand is closed. The concessionists cannot sell you anything if the managers have taken their cash drawers. Even if you can see it "right there."

8b) This does not mean they will give you popcorn and soda for free. The nozzles are probably already removed from the soda fountain, and even though they may be scooping popcorn into a large clear plastic trash bag, it does NOT mean we're "just throwing it away anyway." (We're not - last night's popcorn is used to start the next morning's machines off.)

Thank you, and enjoy your movie.


Other than the above complaints (which I've been storing up for weeks) popcorn slinging went really well. Brian G and I spent most of our downtime swapping commiseration stories about being stuck on the same place in Trauma Center - Under The Knife. Next time I'm working with him I should have something 2-person playable with me. God, DSs are so gotdam cool. :) And walking home wasn't that bad either - especially since I stopped at the Diner for "breakfast" on the way. :)

[xposted to [livejournal.com profile] customers_suck and [livejournal.com profile] enjoytheshow]
kjpepper: (Default)
I am so goddamn tweaky right now. It's better than it was earlier when I had to leave to office for 45 minutes and read in Pinocchio's for a while, but my eyeball's gonna start twitching soon. I just gotta keep thinking... home awaits, with sweeties and episodes of Lost to look forward to.

Mostly it's just work biting my ass. Some of it knowing I gotta work until close both tomorrow night and friday. Which leaves my Saturday and sunday free, which means I should obey my conscience and go visit Dad, since I did say if I could, I would. I suppose in my current state it's fine. It can't possibly get any _worse._ Right? ...right?

On a slightly positive note, one of the other reasons is that I was up until nearly 5am last night - at some point yesterday evening sundart anzovin and I had gone to the Jones Library, and out of curiousity I picked up a book called Threshold by Sara Douglass, and now I can't frigging put it down. I'm 3 quarters of the way through it already and that's no mean feat considering the size of the book. Other than one aspect that's annoying me to no end spoileriffic parenthetical mini rant ), the story and the world it's set in are fascinating. You do have to hand it to someone who can use mathematical sequences as a basis for magic.
kjpepper: (kill you with my brain)
Ye gods, I had forgotten how miserable dial-up is. Oh well, it is better than no internets at all, in which case there would probably have been much with the fetal ball curling and whimpering... except I'm kinda too tired and hot to do even that much. Instead, here I sit, enjoying the dappled light of the setting sun (though I could do without the temperature, which is being somewhat mitigated by threeish fans going full blast) and trying not to melt into a small puddle.

Anyway, yes, dialup internets is kinda sad. Not nearly as sad as [livejournal.com profile] anzovin's DSL modem which sat blinking forlornly in search of signal since Thursday when the phones finally changed over. I finally put it out of its misery. Ah well. At least this is free, and free is good... definitely going to have to find some other option in the event that [livejournal.com profile] morlock succeeds in his quest to get me to play WoW, in which case I need double the RAM I have now anyway. but for indulging livejournal addictions, wikipedia, IM and email, this is fine.

The trip back was relatively uneventful, other than [livejournal.com profile] sundart and I getting into a tiff. Well not exactly it was more me getting upset with her because [livejournal.com profile] anzovin was clearly getting tired on the road and she's the only other person with a viable document that lets her operate a motor vehicle in our party (I haven't gotten my permit renewed yet) and she did fine driving at the end of the trip there, and yet she seemed more comfy with the idea of me taking over the wheel with my expired bit of paper and just about zero highway experience (freeways still scare me shitless, though due to this incident I find myself willing to brave them) rather than her driving because she's terrified of driving through tollbooths. This of course just boggled my mind. In the end [livejournal.com profile] anzovin stuck with it all the way home, but I was royally pissed with her the entire time, and somewhat resolved to be at least repermitted by the time we go to SIGGRAPH so I can do some of the driving there. But yeah, I guess I needed something to annoy myself into getting back into the driving project. I mean for fuck's sake, tollbooths aren't that scary... there's a reason you don't whip through them at 60mph, true... of course, even with my limited road experience I survived driving across the coolidge bridge during construction and across that horrid one lane temporary bridge they had on rt 5, so narrow spaces don't intimidate me. Cars whizzing along on an interstate, yes, but damn it, I was willing to do it today, even though the idea kinda made me sick to my stomach. I mean... I'm going to have to do it sometime, you know?

*sigh* I'm going to stop before this turns into another example of everyone else's hangups piss me off but mine must be pandered to pissfest. Anyway yes. The quest for license is back on.

And now HOLY CRAP I've been craving stuff that exists currently in my fridge. Lemonade. Cherry coke. O'soy. Time for a binge...
kjpepper: (oh HELL NO)
As if we needed more proof that Hollywood is completely out of ideas, Disney is remaking Adventures in Babysitting

OMG. WTF. WHY?

Okay, please note that this has been one of my favorite movies since I was like 8. I could probably still dig out the Point Paperback novelization of it out from somewhere at The House. It's got that quintessential 80s charm, not to mention has Vincent D'Onofrio in a hilarious bit part that I'll bet he wished the world somehow missed.

But it's still a pretty blazingly awful movie (hence it now being a cult classic). Like a Chicago street gang would really be scared of lily white, pretty, young Elizabeth Shue just because she famously yells, "Don't fuck with the babysitter!" And now, they're remaking it. no. Disney is remaking it. IE, they're going to take the original, remove anything remotely threatening or messed up or fun about it, grind it up into bland G rated pablum and expect us to eat it. The original had kids swearing, reading Playboy, getting into trouble, and even getting into some scary situations that was a little more realistic than the bowdlerization that's inevitably going to result from this. I mean, gah. And even better, they have announced that filling Elisabeth Shue's big 80s hair shoes is Miss That's so Raven. Retch.

I'm really afraid I'm going to wake up one day and find that they're greenlighted a remake of The Goonies. Just imagine what sort of utter travesty THAT would be.

Dear Hollywood - stop eating the corpses of your forefathers in the hopes that grokking and cherishing them will magically rake in the money. It's not working. You are seriously insulting your target audience, which is blatently trying to tell you something with the fact that ticket sales have fallen drastically in the past couple of years. It's not because DVD is rendering the movie theater obsolete, you imbeciles, it's because you keep cranking out crap movies, 75% percent of which are pathetic remakes of or crap sequels to movies that in some way actually justify their weight in celluloid. For the love of all that's holy, hire some actual talent, go back to the drawing board and start making some MOVIES again. KThx. -- Andee
kjpepper: (Devi (goddamnit))
The shitty thing about being a circular thinker in a linear world is that when constantly having evidence thrown at you that no one on earth thinks like you do, you start to doubt the validity of your own perceptions, feelings, and if it gets bad enough, your own sanity. *sigh* some days the idea of being a sheep is very appealing, especially when all the funny wiring in your head has ever gotten you is uphill battle after uphill battle, often leaving carnage in their wakes.

I originally had a big long tear about how much I hate it when reality decides to rear up and bite my cooter, but it got passive aggressive and attacky... which I suppose isn't very passive aggressive. Active aggressive. Something. Ick. Lets just put it at I hate everything, everyone and the horses they all rode in on. Also, screw Puritanical patriarchal sexual mores and the fact that they're still trickling down and making our lives far more fucked up and angst ridden than necessary.
kjpepper: (Ed (confused))
This rant/stream of consciousness/essaything/bit of me talking into the ether was partially inspired by a recent post of [livejournal.com profile] newblksusan's. Thanks for the bit of brain food!

So this afternoon in the shower (don't ask, I seem to usually do deep thinking in either the bath or the shower - something about the hot water) I found myself thinking about blogging and journalling and how the two could be classified as different. Back when I first started up with Livejournal I despised the word "blog." To quote Hugh Brown Shu, "That's not a word! That's a cartoon sound effect!" (Though admittedly he was actually talking about pronouncing "conch" as "conk," but it still works here.) I found the word to be dumb and simplistic, a geek hipster contraction of "Web log" that rubbed me as much the wrong way as shortening "carbohydrates" to "carbs" during the height of the Church of Eternal Atkins craze. Plus it sounded like one of those onomatopoetic words for "vomit."

Two or three years later and "carbs," thank the heavens, seems to be out of fashion. "Blog," however, is not. If anything, it's gotten more widespread. It used to just be geeks keeping online journals and mouthing off, now suddenly everyone has one. They're used as journalistic tools, kinda the Internet equivelant of weekly columns. (I have this image of some crazy person collecting all of the text of "I Hate It Here" and republishing it as the blog of Spider Jerusalem. Same basic format.) They're used to give human faces to businesses, allowing companies to "talk" to their customers. And it's starting to be a little scary how many celebrities have myspace and use that to reach their fans. (myspace still frightens me, even though I have an account. Though I mostly use it to harass my wannabe thug life nephew.) They've gotten legit. Dan Rather himself said something about leaving evening news to start regularly blogging, since apparently CBS doesn't allow its anchors to do both. Blogs, suddenly, are Important. So I was thinking about it more today... is the only difference between blogs and online journals what word you use or are there deeper differences that somehow make blogging more legitimate than journalling?

The first thing I came up with is that blogs are kinda like online columns - ways of telling the world your thoughts and views on (insert subject here). Whether the world actually cares or not, well, that's a different story. Journals are more for recording day to day existence, or important events, or yes, even what the hell you scored on that "what sort of fairy am I" test from Quizilla. (...That could be read wrong.) It's more sharing the internal, personal stuff. But then, again... that's not really different from blogging really, cause you're still expressing yourself and what you think and feel about given subjects, even in a day to day journal - what you note down, even if it reads like the most inane bit of garbage, still says that it was important to you enough to be recorded somewhere. It might not be deep or profound or change the universe or win a Pulitzer or anything, but it's still an expression of yourself - it's just that unlike a paper journal, usually other people can see your thought processes as well.

So the next tack my brain took, which made more sense, was that blogs seem to be more centered about one specific topic. A blog could just convey news and information about said topic, or opinions, or political statements. They also seem to be more edited for public consumption than online journals are; blog entries seem to be more polished, more essay-like, than your average journal entry, which is often just a stream of consciousness or a list of unrelated paragraphs representing different points in a day, or different thoughts in an hour. Blogs usually are pretty cohesive in staying on-topic, though the topics themselves can be as narrow as matchstick buildings or as broad as "pop culture." Journal entries wander all over the place topic wise.

Of course, then my brain pointed out that online journals do follow one specific topic or theme - that is the life and times of the writer. And with that in mind, they carry their own sense of legitimacy. It occurred to me that an online journal, though it may be harder to read and unpolished, is in a way more legitimate. Blogs imply polish, distillation, finding the sentence to capture a thought in such a way that it gains x reaction from the readers, while a journal entry is just put out there, raw. This is what is, this is what happened to me, here's my shopping list, my annoyance with my kids, that horrible bitch I work with screwed me over once again, god this world blows goats, don't it? and by the way, that boy I have a crush on totally asked me out OMGWTFBBQ!!! Seriously though... a journal is not just a sequence of carefully worded essays, it tells a story of someone's life from date A to date B. Sometimes it is a superficial story, never going deeper than the surface of a person. Sometimes the stories are deeply personal, sharing to a level not unlike retyping a private paper journal and posting it to the internet. All of these stories can be silly, profound, sad, ecstatic, romantic, twisted, depressing, or haunting. Sometimes within the same journal. That's life though. No matter what sort of journal it is, by writing in it, that person is saying to the world, "this is my life, this is my story, and I want you to read it. The public entries, anyway."

It's funny... on and off since I was ten, I've kept journals, wrote letters, obsessively kept some sort of record of the time passing in my life. Almost 20 years, committed to paper or disk. That's a long time. There are times I think that I've not begun living yet, that I concentrate on the things I haven't experienced, but all of that paper and disk space put the lie to that. There are times I stomp about and complain that I'm not writing anything, but once again, that's not true, I write, compulsively, every single day of my life, in here, in my other two livejournals, in the myriad notebooks I schlep around with me at all times. That's a lot of living right there, a lot of emotion, silliness, deepness, fear, love, loathing, fun, laughing, hope, despair, pain and joy, recorded in my own words. I sometimes wonder why I do it, who I'm writing it for. Mostly myself, I think, but who knows, someone might pick up a notebook I've scrawled in, or pass by my website and decide to peruse my livejournal on their way through the web, and think what I had to say on (insert date here) interesting. *chuckle* It reminds me of when a few weeks ago I mentioned to sydneycat that I had decided to read her livejournal from the beginning, and she was horrified that I saw what sort of things she was writing back then, but I thought that was silly. We are all made older and wiser with time, and of course what we write in the past may look silly and stupid to us now, but it was important enough then to write down, wasn't it? And it still you and your story, no matter how naive or juvenile or just young you were at some point in it. I mean, think about it. Anne Frank's diary was pretty much the giggly mooning over boys you'd expect from a girl her age before the whole hide-from-the-Nazis-in-the-attic thing, but that doesn't detract from the power of the document. If anything it adds to it - it shows that she was real, not just a face they trot out to when they talk about WWII and the Holocaust in middle school history class. The same goes for any diary that's hit print. Anais Nin's and Zlata's come to mind. Somehow reading what these folks have to say in their own words, their experiences as they lived them... it gives whatever event or time period contextualized by their writing more of a voice than a paragraph or two in any history book.

Maybe only time and history will tell whether blogging or journalling will become the more legitimate medium. All I know is that what I do is write. For myself, for the amusement and the informing of my friends, for the entertainment of the random visitor. My little way of saying, I'm here, my name is Andee, I'm a real person with graces (maybe a few) and flaws (plenty), and this is my story as I'm living it.
kjpepper: (die now (potterpuffs))
You really have to love folk that are dumb enough to post a glorified email forward containing Snopes-busted misinformation in their journal, and then defriend everyone who comments them a complaint about it. Real mature, that.

I stand by my rant of the other day, and expand it to include incendiary, obviously "passed along" shit posted to my friends list. I don't care if it's your journal and you have a right to post whatever you want, it's still dumb and wrong and I WILL call your ass on it.

Some days I just itch to pour bleach into the gene pool....
kjpepper: (pissed Devi (going to shoot you))
I just recieved an email forward from a member of my family that basically has Ben Stein preaching in true Jerry Falwell fashion about how the world is going to shit because some folk happen to think that force feeding all American children King James New Testament Scripture in public school is wrong.

Of course, Ben Stein never said any such thing. The preachy bit was tacked onto a grossly misquoted broadcast of the CBS Morning News aired a week before last Christmas commenting on the department store Happy Holidays vs Merry Christmas debacle that was going on. (Which I agree, was pretty stupid - Christmas has pretty much devolved into a Hallmark holiday at this point anyway and the use of the word in store decorations really shouldn't twist anyone's panties). But that's beside the point.

I don't care who you are, if you send me an email forward preaching smugly about some hot button issue of the day, if I check it and find it to be either false or grossly modified to fit whatever agenda you are, by forwarding this message, trying to sell me on, I WILL rip you a new one in front of your entire contact list. ESPECIALLY if I think you're smart enough to know better. Which the email enabled members of my family are - this is not the first time I've sent out a "FOR THE LOVE OF GOD GO TO SNOPES.COM BEFORE FORWARDING SUCH GLURGE TO EVERYONE IN YOUR CONTACT LIST" message to them, but apparently it takes less effort and even less brainpower to hit "Forward" without thinking than to actually research what you're helping to broadcast to the world. There is a part of me that would like to see people that start and forward this crap around being charged one count of libel for every person they send it to, but the time and money spent prosecuting such things would be sort of pointless. Still... I swear some people need a wake-up call that not everything that lands in their inbox, in fact significantly less than 1% of it, is gospel truth.

Of course, that would lead into a rant about interpreting the gospels, and, again, I don't want to get into that right now, it's beside the point. Which is that I get enough spam in my email box. Don't send me more. KTHXBYE.
kjpepper: (curse! curse!)
I had a hard time getting to sleep last night because the TableTop Expo yesterday somehow fired my brain up with ideas about the themed photo thing I was thinking of doing. I think it may be something I could dedicate myself to executing if I had some organizational help and moral support, and at least two of people reading this (I won't say who at this juncture) would probably be perfect for helping me out with such a venture if I did want to get it off the ground and they were willing. So I was groggy and cranky upon awakening this morning - that, and PMS seems to be making my tolerance for humanity plummet quite a bit. Especially on the bus. Soooooooooo many annoying people ride the bus around here. Don't get me wrong, I love public transportation, having grown up in the mecca of all public transport cities. But sometimes people forget about the PUBLIC part in the way that there are other people on the bus that you should probably be courteous of and to. Especially first thing in the morning when people are going to work and haven't had their first cup of I-won't-kill-you-today.

Still a few rules of long forgotten etiquette and unsolicited advice might be in order:

1) While you think that dousing yourself with some sort of Body By Yankee Candle fruity flowery fragrance that immediately fills the bus with chemically manufactured noxiousness and scoured the insides of my and probably other people's nasal passages upon your boarding is a GOOD idea, think again. People are allergic to that stuff, you know.

2) I'm so thrilled that you can enjoy your commute with the technological advances provided by iPod. Yes. They're awesome. Glad you're enjoying your music. The rest of us don't really want to hear it, especially translated horribly off key by the high pitched squawking that passes for your voice. Especially when it's pretty obvious that you can't hear yourself.

3) if the sweet lady with the walker and the cane asks you whether her bags are bothering you, at least give her an answer. I don't care if the hero of your book is about the swipe the head off of the cruel and cunning Lord Wolfhumper at last. Be polite, especially since the lady with the WALKER is attempting to assure YOUR well being.

4) There's a rule about eating on the bus, but frankly, we've all broken it. There's probably something postulated somewhere about how Doritoes are not part of this complete breakfast. There's DEFINITELY something (at least, there better be) about chewing with your mouth open. a) that's gross b) your mouth acts as a resonating chamber, so every time you crunch down on a chip it's amplified to the point where I'm sure people in the back can hear you. Ew. Granted this is one of my personal triggers, enough to make me leave the room if people are making extraneous eating noises around me (smacking, excessive teeth clicking also get to me), so you can imagine how listening to this person chomp through their bag on the longest leg of my bus trip left me feeling. (Hint: it begins with an H and means "Shrink, I wanna kill.")

5) This happened before I got on the bus, so it doesn't really count but I'll mention it anyway - Please don't serve me the Word of God before work. Ever. I don't wanna hear the Good News before I'm appropriately settled down for the day, and for the love of all things holy do NOT interrupt the conversation I'm already engaged in to do so. I'm not going to leap up and find Jesus in the two minutes I have before I get on the bus, I promise, and if I was it wouldn't be because you butted in.

These didn't happen this morning, but tend to happen a lot so I'll mention them anyway.

6) Just because you are conversing in a language other than English on your cell phone or in person doesn't mean that the English speakers on the bus magically cannot hear you. Even if you are speaking English, no one needs to have any sort of conversation at an ear shattering volume.

7) May the darkness be merciful, people, but learn to control your children! Believe it or not, it IS possible for a four year old to sit quietly and behave themselves in public, but you have to rally your lazy parental ass to train them to do so. The TV isn't going to do it for you, nor the nanny, nor the school. It's not their job, it's yours. If dogs can do it so can your child, start being a parent. That said, as someone who grew up with corporal punishment and is firmly against it, some of these kids I see sometimes so need a good slapping, or perhaps a few incidents like this to straighten them out.

I think that's it. *sigh* The rest of Thursday had better be fairly smooth. Or else.

[EDIT]: In the spirit of ranting, this is an excellent read and conversational jumping off point - What do people think?
kjpepper: (for the birds)
1) Reason #265 to be glad to have moved out of Northampton: B-Side Records and Gypsy Heart are closing/have closed. Two more in the long list of casualties that pretty much changed the face of downtown into serious yuppie paradise - you know it's bad when old standards like the Army Navy store, LaSalle Florists (hell, they survived the fucking building burning down at one point!), Beyond Words, Space Crime and Whalens have jumped ship for cheaper climes or early retirement. *sigh* I know times change and all that, but barely anything is left of downtown from when I first got here almost a decade ago. What next? Taipei and Tokyo?

2) I find it amusing that when purchasing something potentially embarrassing (for some people anyway) like condoms or yeast infection creme or tampons or pregnancy tests or adult diapers or enemas or diet pills or something else the compulsion is to also buy something else reasonably innocuous as if that cancels out the other purchase. Like diet pills and christmas candy. Or Depends and a soda. Or tampons with the latest issue of Motor Trend. (I saw a guy purchase that combination not to long ago; me and the checkout girl had a vast gigglefit afterwards). I mean... what's the mentality behind that? when all is said and done and the purchase has been made, are we really going to care what the clerk or the people behind you in line are going to think about the fact that you purchased an enema? And do you honestly think the dinky bottle of water or the face cream you got with it are really going to hide the fact that you purchased a box of Fleet? I mean really, if we're going to be embarrassed about our drugstore shopping list, how about finding something to balance that gigantic animatronic reindeer you just bought? That right there is embarrassing...

*sigh*

Dec. 5th, 2005 02:45 pm
kjpepper: (shaking my head)
Professor Loses Weight With No-Diet Diet

I love the utter ridiculousness of this. Someone yells "eat all the steak you want! but god forbid you have a bagel!" and suddenly the market for low carb ketchup skyrockets. Meanwhile this guy's all about "Dude, just don't eat like a fucking idiot, at least not 24/7." And that's supposed to be revolutionary? Damn that's sad.

Goddamn, I hate the diet industry sometimes. I mean think about it, these companies are not about benefiting anyone they market to, they're just all about preying on people's low self esteem in order to make moolah.

Yes, that's kind of a non-sequitor from the actual article, but I'm kinda incensed by the fact that a relatively big deal's being made about some professor in Utah's preaching something that would be common sense if this country's attitudes towards food and body image wasn't so fucking screwed up in the first place.

Eat when you're hungry. Stop when you're not. It's not rocket science!

end [rant];
kjpepper: (oh FUCK)
I hate losing my wallet. Especially upon realizing, after the running around, backtracking to the last place you think you saw it, calling every person with a car/store along the backtrack route, making contingency plans around the fact that you don't have it, and finally leaving to where you're going in a state of high aggravation, that the last place you saw it was actually the one place in your house you DIDN'T look and therefore it's probably still sitting right there. For all the good it's doing you now.

It's moments like this that convinces me that the gods didn't create us out of some need to make things in their own image, to benefit the world, or some noble purpose like that. No, we exist as playthings, to be fucked with for their amusement. *shakes fist at sky* You bastards.
kjpepper: (firefox eats IE)
Does it make me a bad person that i get vastly annoyed when people post large pictures on LJ? a large picture meaning:

a) not behind a cut
b) greater than 600 px wide
c) with no knowledge whatsoever as to how to properly and efficiently use JPG compression?

cue up the Ranty McRantypants )

In other news today was quiet and a little strained, but overall a better one than most, probably due to the three hour nap in the middle. Had dinner with [livejournal.com profile] captainlove down in South Hadley, which was tasty, and was also treated to a rather unexpected guitar solo. *jaw drop* I've always admired actual guitarists, as opposed to just chord players. I mean, Stanley introduced me to such fun stuff as Joe Satriani when I was smaller and occasionally I've been known to listen to a bit of Django Reinhardt though I haven't in a while. Plus classical guitar? Murderous vile stuff to play, even if it sounds gorgeous. Anycrap... sheesh. I love that about people sometimes - you think you know them and then suddenly you discover something completely unexpected about them that just makes you go "Gfugrah??" I like being surprised.

Came home to find that [livejournal.com profile] morlock had expiated the past couple of days worth of yuckiness. I am no longer the only member of the amoeba without a Batman themed shirt, because now I've got meself a Nightwing logo shirt. Yeah baby!! So that made me squee like all get out, and the cats probably thought I'd gone insane or something. Though... honestly the squeeage and the accompanying tearing up probably had more to do with the note he'd tucked into the packaging that contained a world of much needed sweetness. Whatever fuckupery's going on right now... we're gonna get through it. I just need to be reminded of that every so often, I guess.

Evening was rounded up with WWE Smackdown and much to think about. Tomorrow work, possibly Hedwig, then Squillage party.
kjpepper: (pissed Devi (going to shoot you))
yes I heard about the yahoo news celebrity racism circus. Yes that is some fucked up shit right there, and I'm annoyed (but not surprised). But if another person posts this shit without using an LJ cut, I'm going to shoot them. Your righteous indignation does not overrule basic rules of consideration for other people and their possible lack of broadband connections. Once was fine, but if you're going to repost this issue in your own LJ, either link to one of the comms from whence it came (it's a public post in [livejournal.com profile] blackfolk) or cut it - I'm sure if you put "THIS IS RACIST" in your cut text, everyone who would be pissed off about it would click the link anyway.

Seriously people, I got five uncut copies of that on my flist this morning.

Right now I'm pissed off at something I can't articulate very clearly. And I have to go to work. bah.
kjpepper: (pissed Devi (going to shoot you))
I meant to rant about this yesterday but got distracted.

Australia bans GTA due to explicit sexual content

Apparently the gratuitous blood and violence and misogyny and stuff was PERFECTLY fine. But throw explicit sex in and OMG WE NEED TO PROTECT THE KIDDIES.

It's stuff like this that makes me more convinced that human beings are utterly bugshit. I've never understood why violence is condoned and accepted and sex is demonized. I mean, considering GTA I'm sure the badly pixellized sex scenes are nothing you want to expose a kid to cause it's probably nonconsensual and objectifying or some shit, but goddamn. When's the last time something got slapped with an NC17 or Mature rating due to excessive violence? Meanwhile even movies that protray sex as the positive life-affirming thing that it should always be and is in most cases get bitch-slapped by handwringing moralists that holler about protecting the kiddies. Jesus Christ pimping my ride.

Is it possible to disown one's own species? :P
kjpepper: (don't panic)
http://www.cnn.com/2005/WORLD/europe/07/07/london.tube/index.html

the sad part is, other than the news coverage, the vast majority of Americans aren't really going to give a shit cause it didn't happen here. Which bites considering the world runs to pick our asses up everytime we get knocked down or fall on it and everything shuts down cause America got bitch slapped. Anywhere else? Collective "oh... whatever." Stupid isolationist mentality.

*sigh* well since a London bombing is not nearly enough to stop the motor of the world, I'm going to go to work now. I have to wonder what it would take - nuclear annihillation of somewhere? even so, if it was far enough away, would we not care even then?

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