Self Indulgence

I just…

I’ve been directly integral (not necessarily responsible) for a couple marriages, and I believe necessarily responsible for at least one other.

The closest to relationship support I’ve had was when I had to slap a friend down from hitting on the person I was trying to talk to.

I just…

Why don’t I deserve help? I admit I suck at this. I’ve invited help. At best, I get into situations where I can’t go out with the person overtly flirting with me because they’re loyal to their shitstack of a boyfriend. That’s not hyperbole.

I don’t mind being used, I’m just…

I just…

If I’m okay with it, why do I feel so horrible at night? Why do I wake up crying in the morning, not because in the dream I was loved, but because when I wake up I only remember the calm of care – but not what it was that made things better, that missing connection that would tell me how to find peace?

As a horrible extension: why is my brain hiding from me that crucial bit of information? I know that happiness is a complex recipe – but I’ve had enough dreams where I woke up with that recipe hidden, but the result still fresh in my mind. My subconscious knows how to find joy in my fellow man – but it’s hiding the idea.



A passing thought, from someone whose family has been riddled with cancer.

Cancer, growth, unstoppable… What if there is no cure for cancer, because cancer is the over enthusiastic avatar of humanity, once all other disease is removed – the desire to live as hard as possible, but localized? What if there is only mitigation, in the way that OCD is mitigated? Prevention of the cellular society being overwhelmed by a particular outlook?

If my educational roots were medical, I’d make a note to investigate tomorrow. As it is, if twenty years from now there’s a Nobel Prize to someone for discovering the way to combat cancer, not as a disease, but over enthusiastic cellular vitality… Called it!

Arbitrary Necklines

Here’s a question which is not supposed to be quippy, in which I will not hold any respondents to under oath:
where do you draw the line between the rights involved in gay marriage, and the rights claimed by men who want to work at Hooters?

If I had to try and describe the overarching topic, my best effort would be another question: is there a well defined point at which basic human equality transforms into situational absurdity? A point where, while acknowledging the universal capacity of all humans, in a particular situation it just becomes silly?

This is an invitation to discussion, not trolling for angry arguments. Enjoy, debate, relax afterwards.

Her name was Brooke. I don’t know if I was being hit on or encouraged, but either way, Jason was in town, and needed a ride.

I wasn’t paying attention, because I had something I needed to do. I said I hope to see her again – that was two weeks ago.

I hate this feeling of… Potential lost. Not because of me, or my personal failings; those, I’ve come to terms with. It’s… It’s being on guard duty, only to be invaded during a bathroom break. I may have missed out on something – and it wasn’t my fault.

I hate it when things aren’t my fault.

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Polarize This

Express discontent
But, please, avoid rebellion
Until there’s a goal.

No, seriously; so much stupid has come out of humanity when it only has the idea “I don’t like this” on its collective brain. The term “hippie conformity” comes to mind. Fighting the disease isn’t the same thing as coming up with a cure.


Without absolving them, we as a critical public need to resolve what we are giving Monsanto shit about. We are wasting a lot of time and energy arguing about one or the other; if we come to a consensus, we might effect positive change.

It’s an either/or decision. Either they get critique for genetically modified crops, or they get criticized for single season crops.

My reasoning is thus: assume, hypothetically, that agribusiness introduced a genetic modification purely for humanitarian reasons. Stay with me. In this ideal case, it would make sense to also introduce a terminator – an additional modification to prevent distribution by reproduction of a perceived benefit, which could have long-term negative consequences. Or, to summarize: I made better corn, but I’m not sure if it’s completely safe; let’s make sure it doesn’t have kids.

If “the terminator” was the only thing Monsanto introduced to their corn, it would have been a dick-ish thing to do. But considering the potential long-term consequences of the modifications they have made besides that, I don’t have a problem with them limiting the duration of the genetic strain. Take the anti-hypothesis of the previous paragraph, and assume that, instead, next years corn will turn into dragon/corn hybrids which eat kittens, just because a genetic intern forgot to carry the two. That is not a crop you want to learn to harvest for more than a single year. Because of the self-limiting nature of the product, Doritos would only be scarce for a single year. And would likely lead to a limited edition kitten scorching flavor.

I am not arguing for one side or the other; I am arguing that everyone who objects needs to get on the same side, and form a single wall, rather than engaging the semantics that I just have.

If you are against Direct genetic modification, I can’t argue against you. I hope you acknowledge that genetic modification will happen no matter what; humans turned wolves into Chihuahuas, and turned maize into tacos. We will keep breeding towards our own benefit. That being said, I can kind of understand if you don’t think spiffy but questionable DNA should be shot into crops just because it might make bugs like them less.

Similarly, I can understand if you don’t want to have to pay, repeatedly, for your corn seeds. Just understand – I don’t want those seeds to have experimental weevil resistance which, two generations later, has morphed into an active hatred of humanity, to the point of being vindictively poisonous.

You get one or the other. Make a damn choice. I’m going to go eat some rice cakes until you do.

All I’m saying is…

On Monday, a mostly lesbian ex-girlfriend Who is into horses and crazy – according to friends – gave me the first booty call of my life.

What I’m getting at is: whatever normal/standard is, my life doesn’t run that way.