My next tat..

Might as well get one before I'm forced to get one. I was thinking - the back of the neck but I already have a tat there.. so, this will go on the inside of my forearm. I'm debating whether to write the word the barcode is in the space or just take the space out altogether.

Ventura County FTW!

Yeah, boi. I sooo love teh Ventura County! VC FTW!

not.

I dislike any place where they charge gross amounts so I can access their beaches.

But, I hope to take advantage as I've brought my camera for some foe toe graffs.

I guess it's okay for scenic stuff..



Oh.. I've decided to make myself available for correspondence.. if anyone is, at all, interested.. cvb.blog (at) gmail.com. Please.. send any hate mail, requests for marriage, notes of fancy and all of that other hullabaloo there. I need a new ePenpal.

Humbled..

Firstly, I have to say I've recovered nicely from my bout of food poisoning, whether it was salmonella or not. It doesn't matter. The blood is gone as is the pain. I can now eat with comfort once again. The good thing about getting sick is that I lost 6 pounds. The bad, aside from the discomfort, is that I'll probably regain that weight within a few days.

So I was talking to my head writer this morning - he did a major production for Comic Con this year.. lots of video with interviews and such (they had the chance to meet Jennifer Connelly and I wasn't there. I must have done something wrong in a previous life. Terribly). Anyway, he's terribly proud of his work and what he's done to bring the site I command to where it's at and I dare say, he's done a fabulous job. It is because of him that I don't walk away from the project I started (I'm not too terribly interested in it. I never really was) almost five years ago. So, we were chatting on the phone this morning and, as he was telling me all that I had just summed up in this paragraph, he had imparted advice that I hear once in awhile but never really take seriously, though I know it's good advice and many seem to heed except myself. He tells me to do what I'm passionate about (he's passionate about film.... very passionate, and he thinks my passion lies on the same path as his. It doesn't). Then he goes on to tell me I should find a night job and work with him to do this more. I was unemployed for a year and a half doing it and I wasn't fulfilled. But, I know where he's coming from and it's humbling to see him doing something that he truly believes in. Something that drives and motivates him to claw his way towards his goal, his ultimate nirvana. And, he wants to bring me along on his ride. I used to think that it was I who was bringing him along with me but roles have changed and I'm now being dragged along on his coattails. And I'm cool with that.

But, he brings to me a point that seems to be a theme in my life. Do what makes you happy. Unfortunately, I've been unable to find that which makes me happy. The closest thing so far has been my official discovery of philosophy and my pursuit of higher learning in that direction. I'm sure, in time, I'll need to find a night job in order to fulfill one of my goals (it's not necessary that I share that at this moment) but that's not something I need to worry about right now. I think, and this leads me to another theme in my life, that the only thing stopping me from just doing what I should do is fear. But who isn't scared of actually chasing their dreams? Especially when one is already established (however established one is in indentured servitude, I should say) in one's life and has a level of comfort. Who wants to fuck that all up for the unknown? Most people don't. Those that do and fail should be commended and honoured. Those that do and succeed should be worshiped and treasured. They are the dreamers who make reality happen.

And I am humbled by that.

Comic Con 2008: Day 2

Not happening. I think I have some sort of food poisoning. Water shouldn't be pouring out of certain orifices like they are.

I'm miserable.

It sucks because there was a panel with my favourite author today - Dean Koontz. I'm pretty bummed.

So, to Basic (that bar I was at yesterday): your drinks are nice and so is Cindy the bartender, but your pizza sucks. (I know it was the pizza cos that's the only thing I ate yesterday)

ADDENDUM:

I think I may have been infected with salmonella. I think it's the blood squirting out of my ass that's the giveaway. So what the fuck do I do now? I don't even know who my doctor is, let alone where it's at. Oh well.. let's see what happens.

Comic Con 2008: Day 1

Day One, Comic Con and the freaks are out in full force. It's worth the price of admission, which is ZERO. It's good to have press cred's. Currently, I'm sitting in this place called Basic, on J Street and Tenth. As the name suggests, this place is pretty simple. It's sparse; it looks like it was a garage some time in the distant past. And now, there are two bars, a pool table (purple tabletop, very nice) and a very cute bartender. Very. (Note to self - you really need to get out more).

Anyway..

I sit here, drinking my overpriced single malt Scotch, watching the droves of fucking retards with their day-passes to the convention walking around in costume as tributes to some stupid animation on Adult Swim. Sure, I shouldn't bag on these diehard fans who live only to be Naruto or Pikachu or whatever.. isn't Cowboy Bebob totally dead? The only plus side to this is that there are a ton of geek girls.. HOT geek girls, dressed as their favourite characters.. scantally clad characters. Oh, the humanity. I even saw some idiot dressed up like Strongbad. C'mon, Homestar Runner was so 2006. Get with the present, for fuck's sake. Is it even still popular?

So the convention center is grossly overpacked with Clearasil-needing nerds, kids without parents (for the day - hooray for them!) and people who are either "Professional" or in the media (like myself). Hell, I even passed Margaret Cho on the street. She looked like ass.

But anyway.. I didn't get here early enough and I've been missing the panels I want to see. Hopefully, I can get into the Ghost Hunters panel at 3p.. I'd better hurry! But the conversation with the bartender is nice.

So, until next time!

Dot Dot Dot

It's that time again where students register for school and life becomes divided between academia and the 40 hour humdrum known as corporate America (aka, the American Dream).

I've realized that my life beginning in August will become dedicated to learning, dedicated to advancing and dedicated to being dedicated. I've always been apprehensive to the whole sacrificing my personal life in order further the rest of my life thing. It's been a hard journey.

I took one class last semester to see if I could do it. And, I did do it and I didn't even try. Now I've got two classes, a 40 hour work week, a personal life I'm not willing to sacrifice and a whole lot of other shit that I will need to juggle. And for what? To someday get that elusive degree I've been chasing my whole life? That piece of paper that will somehow validate who I am and give credence to what I stand for? To prove what is already known by my peers and me - that I'm an intellectual? (I hate intellectuals. They're stuffy, serious and lack any amusement. And they're pompous. I use the term lightly)

I guess the point is - I need to sacrifice something and that something will be my personal life. School will become my personal life. It will become my everything. The other aspects of my life will become secondary. Even my job, which I can't say has my complete and utter attention as it is. It will have even less.

If I'm to attain my goal, I have to sacrifice. I've got to suffer. It's not a new concept. I've suffered most of my life. What's a few more years? I just hope I won't succumb to the fear that so wonderfully dictates my life.

What is laziness?

la·zy /ˈleɪzi/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[ley-zee] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation adjective, -zi·er, -zi·est, verb, -zied, -zy·ing.
–adjective 1. averse or disinclined to work, activity, or exertion; indolent.
2. causing idleness or indolence: a hot, lazy afternoon.
3. slow-moving; sluggish: a lazy stream.
4. (of a livestock brand) placed on its side instead of upright. –verb (used without object)
5. to laze.

I'm lazy. I've been all of my life. I never really thought about why I was lazy. I just was. And when I didn't do something, I really just chalked it up to that and called it a day. It's something that isn't easily changeable and I've never fought it. If one were to ask me, I'd say that people don't change, we just adapt and react with intent.

Anyway, I was thinking about a conversation I had some time ago about laziness and I think I understand now why I am lazy (though I think this could possibly work out for many people). It's because I don't care. I don't care about anything. I don't care if I get my work done, I don't care if I go to work, I don't care if I die tomorrow. I really don't care. If I have to exert any effort, chances are I'm not going to care about what it is I need to exert effort for.

"I don't care" can be my catch phrase. My mantra.

Maybe I'm ADD. Nothing keeps my interest long enough for me to care about it. And, because of that, it takes great effort to do accomplish things I need to accomplish. Some things, if they touch me emotionally, will get more attention and more time devoted to eventually becoming boring.

Video games, chess and thinking too much are different, though. They keep me very entertained. But, these things don't really accomplish anything (well, thinking does but that's debatable even).

So, to me, laziness is borne from apathy. And apathy is borne from.. I don't know. This is the next step.

Oh what a day it will be..

Currently, it is about 10 till 2am and I'm just now getting situated to go to bed, but not before I place an entry in my handy dandy little blog.

Actually, I should be asleep now, dreaming of wonder and excitement, dreaming of grand futures and amazing pasts; I should just be fucking asleep, really. But, no, I'm not. I was out and about at a dive bar in Rosemead, CA., where there is a Chinese restaurant every 2 feet and they're all seafood (I gotta come back to check some of these places out!). The place: Spike's Bar and Grill. The night's theme: The Breakfast Klub. The band: Nocturna. See, I went with a friend who said we should go see this band because they're a Siouxsie cover band and Siouxsie is cool (everything before Peekaboo that is). They should be on at 11p but they're usually late so no worries if you are.. late, that is... he says to me (I'm paraphrasing, I'm sure).

Actually, despite the smokey, crowded environment (the clove cigarettes really added a touch of.. something), I thought it was a nifty place. Not to sound racist or anything, but I've never seen so many Mexicans that were either Rockabilly or gothic.. all in one place! Amazing! Seriously, I thought only white people were gothic.. or Emo. Taaaannnggeeennttt! I digress. (they're all a buncha poseurs in my book anyway.. wannabe's)

So, Nocturna starts out with their rendition of Israel. Then they go into another song I'm not familiar with. The lead singer, a total Siouxsie wannabe, actually sounded great; she just looked like a wounded monkey. With thick, black eyeliner. And a poofy wig. Which, I think, was actually her real hair. Her get-up was a little lewd (no, she didn't show anything but it was still lewd) but whatever. I didn't go to look at her.

They ended the set with Spellbound, which was really cool. I thought it was a great cap to a wonderful set. I also liked Love in a Void and.. and.. damn this being tired shit! I can't remember the song! Let's see.. I Heard a Rumour. That song was keen.. but the other one I really liked.. Damn it!! Damn it all to hell! Fuck! I wonder what it'd be like if I actually had a few to drink!

Anyway, it'll come back to me. So.. to sum up.

Rosemead: a shithole.
Spike's: a dump within a hole.
Nocturna: worth seeing in a dump.
Not having alcohol: just fine by me. I don't need it at that late of an hour. I want to wake up on time for work.

My friend and I are seeing them again in August. They play tomorrow, too, in Santa Monica.. Or is that today? Whatever.


Click Post and then to bed. Nite!

WTF??!

Maybe it's me but I'm thinking everyone's (and when I say everyone, I mean everyone I know..) pissed off at me for some reason.

Maybe it's because I didn't post a Purity Test (go here: www.puritytest.net) on a reasonable time table (I'll post my score later. I'm at work).

Maybe it's because I didn't go to someone's daughter's birthday and, subsequently, didn't help them with promo photos for their new hair salon.

Maybe I didn't return a phone call or two when I should have.

Whatever.. In a hundred years, who's gonna care anyway?

Edit:

Just took the purity test myself - the 500 question one.. A thousand questions is too many..

My score? 56.2%

I thought it'd be lower.

What Wendy's is Not...

Wendy's is NOT Vegetarian-friendly. No sir-friggin'-Bob.

There is NOTHING on the Wendy's menu that is even REMOTELY kind to a person who does not eat meat. Nothing.

Looking at the menu, there is one thing - a Caesar salad. Okay. I'll have that. So my question is -- WHO THE FUCK PUTS BACON BITS IN A CAESAR FUCKING SALAD??!!?!

Apparently, Wendy's does.

So if you're a vegetarian, don't eat at Wendy's. Because they suck. They're against mother nature. They hate little babies and they make old people dress up in leather boots and nothing else.*


I'm going to bed now.. sick from eating bacon bits. Damn it.




* Wendy's in no way makes old people dress up in leather boots (and nothing else) nor do they hate little babies. But they still suck.

What exactly is consciousness?

I was thinking, in the shower (because this is where I do most of my thinking), about consciousness. I've read many opinions on what we are in terms of chemical and electrical reactions. Our thoughts, decisions, actions; they're all based on chemical and electrical reactions in our brain. Does it come right down to that? A chemical reaction? My conscious thought, my intellect? It's a chemical reaction? Though it makes sense to me that this is all that it may be, I cannot quite accept that. I cannot accept that my being is simply a series of electrical pulses shooting between different synapses, of different chemical compounds interracting between each other. Well, I can accept it but I don't want to.

There are different philisophical thoughts about how we perceive reality. But how do we perceive ourselves? What is it in our minds that creates who we are? Is the statement, "I think, therefore I am" (I haven't studied Descarte to any degree. Yet.) valid? Or should it be, "I am, therefore I think"? In this statement, it is perceived that one exists and in one's existence, one is made up of chemical compounds that create the stimulus to think, process thought and perceive our own reality. Reality isn't the same for everyone. It can even be said that two people can perceive the same color differently. Neither are incorrect in their assessment. But it's still the same color.

I'm thinking as I write, so I apologise if things aren't so coherent. Again, as with so many other writings, it makes sense in my head.

The question still remains: is our consciousness simply chemical reactions within our brain that gives us intelligence, reason, thought and awareness? When we die, will that simply end? So far, with my belief system, I would have to say yes. I was not conscious before I was alive. I dare say I will not be conscious after my death. That is where I seem to have my difficulty. I will not be conscious after I am dead.

Maybe this is one of the true reasons why no one wishes to not believe in an afterlife or a deity. It is because they don't want to realise that life is a big waste of time (a waste of time in the sense that it is all for naught; that no matter what we do, we still die), that there really is no cosmic, grand scheme to it. We make our own purpose, we make our own reason, we justify our own life. This isn't a pessimistic thought. It is simply the way it is. To me. My reality. Yours may be different.

And I've gone terribly off tangent. But one can definitely see how my thought process works.

A haiku for your enjoyment:

Reality bites
Consciousness notwithstanding
Purple is not blue

A question..

I posed this question on Yahoo! Answers:

If one was raised in a non-descript room, never knowing anyone from the time of birth until adulthood, never coming into contact with another human, only knowing that something may be out there because that something is the supplier of sustinence and clothing (and education devoid of anything related to religion), would this one know the concept of god? Which god? Would this person think the hand that was supplying everything was the hand of god?

If this person was then introduced to people, how do you think this person would react?


I was thinking about how someone had once said that god (the Christian god, mind you) is known by everyone and that he permeates our being. So, I wonder - if someone was never introduced to any god, let alone the Abrahamic god, would they know god at all? If one was locked in a cage from birth and only knew the hand of their keeper, would they know god?

Some people are really stupid in that they can't think outside the box and come up with a relevant answer. Sure, this person wouldn't know how to communicate, unless the captor taught this person basic language (it's hypothetical, don't ask me how!).

Someone accused me of stealing this idea. I've never read Plato's Republic, though it's on my list of reading.

Anyway.. whatever.. right?