Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Success is easy for us rich westerners


It’s hard to find creativity when you work at a dead end job, selling diabetic test strips over the telephone. When I get home from work, I’m fucking exhausted. I keep telling myself at work that I’m going to write more songs, write more stories, work on a book, get into photography, find a new girlfriend, and so forth. Instead, I play on the Internet, send a few emails, watch a few videos, eat some food, and fall asleep with my dick in my hand.

In our rich society, upward movement isn’t limited by war, poverty, disease, famine, politics. Well, not so much. Then the only thing stopping you from becoming rich, powerful, famous, in love, or whatever else you desire, is your own ability to get up and DO IT.

People are moved by action. Like this blog, writing it makes me feel accomplished. The thought that someone might read it, and enjoy the crazy shit that comes out of my head…that makes me feel happy.

Doing things….do it.

Sunday, April 13, 2008

Yes, I had a psychic ufo experience...so what?


My story is somewhat unique in being not just an unexplained sighting; but a paranormal experience.

It was the summer of 1995 in Penticton BC, Canada; a quiet tourist town just north of the Washington border. I had just finished my dishwashing shift around 11 pm, and was heading out for a fun night with three friends.

In order to understand the uniqueness of my story, you should get to know Kris. Kris is the charismatic older brother of my good friend Ricky. Earlier that year Kris, following a nervous breakdown, slipped into a coma and was hospitalized for several months.

Kris awoke to a new reality; he wasn’t the same person. He’d tell stories about being lost in his dreams, and his ability to see ghosts, aliens, ufo’s, and all other nonsense. We took our time talking with him, comforting and reassuring his normalcy; it was sad to see how for he had slipped towards madness.

One lazy summer evening I watched him through our window as he leapt madly around the yard, thrusting his finger to the sky and yelping this and that about ufo’s and other jibberish. We would look, see nothing, and laugh it off --Crazy Kris.

Then we saw them. This is the weird part of my story. Believe what you will, I don’t really care--this happened.

The sky was starry, the night warm and silent. I was chatting with Kris as he went on about his usual random spiritual nonsense that was so out of character for him, when he froze, stopped walking and stared at me blankly. “What?” I asked.

“I feel like somebody’s watching me.” He replied. Without looking, he swung his finger to the sky and said, “There!”

I looked up and saw three distinct lights, traveling together in formation. They looked like really bright white stars. But then they stopped, and began to spin in arcing circles, change direction, shoot and dart quickly, hover and basically float around silently. From my experience as an amateur pilot in the air cadets, I would say they were at least 20 or more thousand feet up, but it’s hard to say. They were not conventional aircraft.

Kris started freaking out yelling, “Kris is crazy! Kris sees aliens! That ain’t no f@^#ing satellite!”

No they weren’t satellites.

Our jaws were on the floor. There were four of us witnessing this event, one of which is my best friend to this day and corroborates my story. I called him a few months ago, just to make sure I wasn’t making this memory up.

The story gets better. When we arrived home, I ran into the living room where a large group of friends were having a party. There was a lot of noise about the ufo sighting. Apparently that night, a group of about thirty were at a bush party and had seen more than a dozen of these dancing lights.

After awhile, I ceased to think on the event. That was ten years ago. It’s only recently with the waves of sightings around the world, that I decided to write down the story that I’ve told friends and lovers so many times.

For me the amazing part of my story is not seeing the ufos myself, but the manner in which I was shown the phenomenon. Sure Kris could have spotted the ufo and then pretended to have a psychic connection, but I remember distinctly how he said, “There!” and swung his hand towards the sky, without averting his eyes from mine. I’ll never forget that.

Could they have been military? Maybe…but I doubt it. Is Kris a psychic? Who knows, anything is possible.

Well, suppose they are psychic. Maybe the insane are really just in-tune with something we aren’t. Our society’s unwillingness to seek the truth is the real insanity.

Most people don’t want to know that we aren’t alone in the universe. Our ego would hardly allow the concept of a beta existence, under god that is. Our entire notion of “God” would be put into question.

Yes. We are clueless.

Sunday, March 2, 2008

If you read this blog, all your dreams will come true


Sometimes you just need to write.

I normally use this site to provide value, Other times; mental masturbation: random drivel, designed to re-wire the readers perception. “The time for action is tomorrow!”

I’ll lay down some fiction.

The Egyptian fire zebra never mates until high noon, as the expulsion of sweat provides great pleasure to the beast.

See, that’s nuts, and by no means a reflection of the author’s personality--totally not mental masturbation.

This is mental masturbation: The news, bad tv, war, homophobia, racism, kidnapping, globalization, misogyny, history, etc. The list goes on. It’s time to move on people. Feel the power.

Get political, get romantic. Choose a cause, grab your weapon and hold tight your lover…bliss.

I figure being happy means taking your fantasies, and terraforming them into reality. Like if you dream about looking good: buy some new clothes, if you feel like ice cream: go to Dairy Queen. No, no that quote is no good. Forget everything I just said.

We all do it; mental masturbation. The trick is to catch yourself in the act, and harness that knowledge for personal growth. I grow by having you read totally weird and pointless blog posts.

Never rely on someone else’s fiction for fact finding. Experience doesn’t lie.

“Don’t believe the hype.” Anne Frank.

Wednesday, December 26, 2007

Christmas times fuck


OH Christmas tree, Oh Christmas tree

Where are your neo citran?

Oh Jesus tree, oh Jesus tree

Come and get your kittens

They bomb Iraq, we love to dance

Santa Claus, skips Isreal

Oh Christian Tree, I stand and pee

Tylenol cold and Flu

Sunday, November 25, 2007

Winter for everyone


The great thing about winter
No guilty apathy
No Dichotomy Dictosaurus
Will change my mind
You’re not my Dad!

I enjoy a cold romp
Farting around in the mush
Good excuse to get drunk
There always is
Dude

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

The Gestapo of the Metro


Don’t look, don’t speak, don’t smile. Imagine the Metro if social politeness were enforced. “Maam, you are required by law to flirt with that man who is staring lustfully at your exposed ankles.” Or “Sir, please engage the passenger to your left, stating your stance on the Israeli Palestine conflict.” Wouldn’t the Metro be an adventure, instead of a silent slide through the tunnels of a cold city?

Sunday, November 11, 2007

Aliens


They’re everywhere, though some say they aren’t

Fuck them

Saucers, spheres, globes, orbs, cylinders, triangles, ovals

Every shape and size

All colours

They float

Some fear, others worship

Sacrifice?

I hope not

Bill Clinton wonders

But he never found out

In Belgium, thousands saw giant triangles

Over a period of days, they floated

Shining their lights, in big triangular ways

And humans, with their little triangular prayers

The government sent two f-16 jets to kill it

But the triangles--they darted around

Teasing the stupid humans

Mock speed

And the glorious Belgian’s, they told everyone

That was nice of them

Probings…we fear the probe

Anus, aliens

Sightings from thousands of years ago

On cave walls

Tom Cruise knows they exist, why doesn’t Katie?

Do it for the baby Katie…the baby!

And still we wait, procrastinate

Infrared is the way, the geeks say

Switch it on, on your camera

The button is right there, no right there fuck

The button won’t do your homework

It might however, let you make a better sex tape than Paris

Or see the aliens

At night, they might land behind your barn

If you have a barn, who does?

Not since industrialization

If they leave a pattern in your crops

Don’t worry

They will grow back next season

With the help of modern chemicals

You can still make mortgage if Henry gets another job

Just for a little while

The cows were mutilated

That’s ok; Burger King is just down the street

Right beside Future Shop

There is much to be said on aliens

They probably make nature shows, about us

We’re silly

And they float

What have you done?