Chaos Gravy________________________________ver Graysoul

Rant on peeps these days

noreply@blogger.com (Jasøn chaø†ík) — Mon, 23 Jun 2008 14:01:00 +0000

I observed disconcertedly that there wasn’t shit to do and there wasn’t anything that offered much in terms of fun here. Everyone seemed so repugnant, not even possessing a scrap of interest…a dull sullen look in their eyes…alive but not alive. I hated those predictable fools, who always feigned a phony sense of decorum and politeness. It seemed that most people only perceived things from one perspective, themselves first and everyone else in a defined pecking order. This sameness was what gyrated on my nerves. I remember a time when people were interesting, and not these Stepford wives types with automated pre programmed responses, talking in a mimicked variation like a gay yuppie…because they somehow think that speaking as such somehow made them sound more sexy and sophisticated.

The person who hated fun

noreply@blogger.com (Jasøn chaø†ík) — Mon, 23 Jun 2008 13:44:00 +0000

I hate fun

^^^^ I read this controversial post ^_^ and chuckled, thoroughly bemused. The guys a good writer, no doubt. Strangely that it turned out to be a rant regarding the blogger's take on Ad&d & RPG's.

But he does touch on some very real issues. How Americans have lost sight of ourselves, how we pursue wantonly nothing but delights to our senses, personal mindless decadence and instant non lasting gratification. Lets face facts, if gratification were lasting we wouldn't need constant fixes and therefore, wouldn't need what some out there delude themselves into thinking that they do.

Rape of Tibet

noreply@blogger.com (Jasøn chaø†ík) — Thu, 19 Jun 2008 13:26:00 +0000

Stop the Torch from going through Tibet. The Chinese oppression of Tibet's evil enough as it is without this further humiliation.

On April 9th International Olympic Committee (IOC) President Jacque Rogge said that, despite widespread protests, he has no plans to cut short the Olympic torch relay. The Tibet Autonomous Region’s (TAR) Chairman Qiangba Puncog stated in Beijing: "We will fully prepare for it and the Olympic torch relay in Tibet will be a complete success". In an ominous warning against protests, he threatened: "If someone dares to sabotage the torch relay in Tibet and its scaling of Mount Everest, we will seriously punish him and will not be soft-handed”.

China’s torch relay – titled “journey of harmony” – is still scheduled to go through Tibetan areas including Lhasa, parts of Amdo and Kham. The Chinese government is also determined to take the torch up Mount Everest on the Tibetan side in a callous attempt to legitimise its baseless claims to sovereignty over Tibet.

The torch will go through areas where thousands of Tibetans, who protested peacefully in March, are being imprisoned, many suffering torture. The torch may very well cover ground where the blood of Tibetans has recently been shed.

Parading the torch in front of the repressed people of Tibet would be an abhorrent sight, showing contempt for human rights and the Olympic ideal.

By insisting the Olympic torch be carried through Tibet, China wants to show the world and its own citizens that Tibet is part of China. The torch, which is supposed to be the symbol of peace and harmony among nations, must not go to Tibet where a military lockdown is taking place. Bringing the torch to areas where protests have been crushed is surely going to escalate the situation and provoke further protests. That would lead to more arrests, torture and bloodshed, linking the torch and the IOC with Tibetan deaths.

The IOC’s next executive meeting is taking place in Beijing on April 10th and 11th. It is expected that it will make a decision about the troubled torch route.

I guess that the Rape of Nanking hasn't instilled in China a sense of compassion and overall human niceness.

Pics of the day

noreply@blogger.com (Jasøn chaø†ík) — Thu, 19 Jun 2008 05:44:00 +0000

Scanned this out of National Geo. It's an abandoned house. There's something alluring about such places...it draws you in, all the mystery, the untold story. Baffling that such places exist in the states.

An abandoned schoolhouse in Gayscoyne, N.D.

A torn page out of a textbook flutters in the breeze from a broken window. The lesson reads:

Write the other word for CRY, AFTER, BAD, ALWAYS, GOOD-BY, LOST, and DARK

An abandoned car, left behind and forgotten about.

Mott, N.D.

"Rufus Svihovec, Bohemian. He was an awful heavy drinker, married once, the wife died. He went to the old-folks home in Mott, and he died there" says Gilmer Anderson, a 87 y.o. farmer of the former occupant.

noreply@blogger.com (Jasøn chaø†ík) — Thu, 12 Jun 2008 19:14:00 +0000

The other day I stood on my balcony, transfixed by the sudden fierceness of the rain. It hypnotized me as I watched it, absorbed in its continuance. I felt something stir within, but I couldn't for the life of me express it in words. Or maybe I'm just not that good a writer.

noreply@blogger.com (Jasøn chaø†ík) — Thu, 29 May 2008 15:55:00 +0000

Read about this teeniebopper who designs Myspace layouts and is a self made millionaire. Hmmm, maybe I should hit the adult entertainment industry and make layouts for them. Doesn't this make you sick? Not to be hating but it really drives me insane at how lucky some freaks of nature get.

Litany against Fear

noreply@blogger.com (Jasøn chaø†ík) — Tue, 27 May 2008 19:31:00 +0000

I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.

-Paul Altreideis, DUNE

The Antagonist

noreply@blogger.com (Jasøn chaø†ík) — Sun, 25 May 2008 17:50:00 +0000

The antagonist of my novel. He's a poor struggling art student who busses tables at a semi popular middle eastern restraunt. He pretends to know limited broken English, an act he finds will afford him any menial jobs he wants and to generally be ignored. Except his bosses daughter Trish catches onto him as she notices him reading Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse Five one day. She threatens to bust him if he doesn't go out with her, and as it turns out it works out for everyone since she's a fashion designer...she makes him a modified trench coat thats resistant against tasers and knives, and that can hold a shitload of weapons.

By night he ventures into the street world of his city, tracking down and taking on the vestiges of an underground secret society known as the Cult of Love. Its run by his arch nemesis, Crone. She's a pigeon lady who was mistakenly abducted by CIA Black Ops and used as a ginea pig by a government geneticist named Dr. Mindlender, an alias adopted from his favorite G.I. Joe Villain Dr. Mindbender. He pumps Crone full of a unknown cocktail that increases her strength and gives her the vigor, reflex, and agility of a 25 year old Olympian athelete, and to top it off a cerebral chip that allows her to download and access the CIA Wikipedia database of information from bomb making to martial arts, making her Jason Chaotic's most deadly arch foe yet.

Initially he'd been hired by the Korean drycleaning cartel to take out Crone and her army of callgirls and prostitutes, who she's inducted into her little empire. Having watched Sin City mistakenly thinking it was actually Sex & The City, she gained the idea to recruit these gals and to make them dangerous and formidable...able to blackmail senators and politicians easily.

Jason in the meantime while the Cult of Love and Crone are becoming swollen with power and influence, is on the run from dirty cops and gangs everywhere. Some of the whores who work for Crone also get the gangs, who Jason had pitted against eachother to form an alliance and to take out Jason once and for all.

Down on his luck, and badly injured from several battles he goes into hiding and quits his job, becoming a used car salesman and a nightly manager for Wendy's. Trish finds him and introduces him to her cousin Lady Bliss in hopes of continuing their relationship. Lady Bliss (short for 'Ballistik') is actually a transvestite arms dealer and a very rich one at that. Offering Jason several thousand dollars worth of semi automatics if he tracks down and finds the muthafuckas who stole a shipment of Ipod Nano's that was supposed to be delivered to him. Jason refuses the guns but gladly accepts a vast arsenal of ninja weapons and martial arts gear.

He finds that a small mob of drunks, bums, and panhandlers who were working for Crone intercepted the shipment and sold the nano's for drinking money to some college sorority. A lesbian fraternity that was actually a group of professional contract killers who worked for the Love Cult. Jason and the sorority sisters battle it out and he kills five of them, badly injuring three who flee the scene. He brings the nano's back to Lady Bliss intact.

However, the Korean drycleaning cartel summons him and demands to know what is happening. In exchange for two years of free kimchi and drycleaning he vows he will kill Crone for good this time, or die trying. The grandfather's daughter who fancies Jason gets her dad to make certain this is not necessary.

Crone's spies discover this and hire outside assistance to take on Jason, a North Korean janitor code named The Cleaner, one of the most deadliest assassins in the world. His favorite weapon is a blowgun that he shoots a poisoned spitball into the eyes of his targets, which kills within seconds. He himself has developed an immunity to this poison by having inhibited small dosages over the years.

Jason is approached by a prostitute in disguise named Jackalan Grey. She was a former CIA bio chemist who made the concoction that Dr. Mindlender stole from her lab by hacking into her network. She finds a hero in Jason and decides to help give him an edge by injecting semi radioactive cocaroach DNA and fusing it with his own genetic makeup. "You'll be able to regenerate from bullets, stab wounds, and even fire...you'll even be able to regrow your head if someone cut it off...both heads if you catch my drift"

And thats the gist of my new novel...:)

noreply@blogger.com (Jasøn chaø†ík) — Sun, 25 May 2008 04:07:00 +0000

Committed Facebook suicide the other day....I feel, cleaner somehow.

Presently reading

noreply@blogger.com (Jasøn chaø†ík) — Sun, 25 May 2008 04:02:00 +0000

Pretty tight book on swiss (or 'Grid') based design and layout. With cool overlays on existing designs that show how they correspond with a grid system. Not bad for $20.00.

noreply@blogger.com (Jasøn chaø†ík) — Sun, 18 May 2008 21:53:00 +0000

There's an abundance of tragedy in day to day existence that screams with such distinction about the finiteness of our lives.

My fiancee's sister was walking along in LA with several of her co-workers when a driver who was engrossed in waving hello to one of his homies lost control of his vehicle and sped towards the pavement, killing two of her friends and putting a third in critical condition. This took place in LA, and fortunately they caught the little shithead. Turned out to be a 19 year old hispanic male, who's being tried as an adult can add manslaughter to his list of charges, an upgrade from vehicular manslaughter. He fled and even dragged one of the female victims along in his beaten up piece of shit ride. He'll be someones wife in jail soon I'm certain. And now his life is royally fucked beyond anything and that in itself is definitely an evil thing. Despite our tendency to demonize him, despise him and anything else just imagine in an eyeblink your life is shattered beyond repair. I don't think that the guy deliberately wanted to run over people unless he'd been playing GTA and was high as a kite.

And now she has to seek counseling. How strange it must feel to have come within an inch flirtation with death, knowing that people you know died instantly. She also has to dodge reporters to add stress to an already stressed out situation. Fortunately she didn't stick around for media morons to annoy and harass as she left the scene to contact people, phone 911, etc. She didn't stand around gawking by spode into quick action. I admire her for it, too. To top it off, she just got through a battle with Breast Cancer earliest in the year and won. Wow, two close encounters with death and she survived! Amazing...simply amazing.

Read about it here.

Spring forward

noreply@blogger.com (Jasøn chaø†ík) — Sun, 09 Mar 2008 12:01:00 +0000

DISCOMBOBULATED from jet lag, my sleep schedule's quite messed up. I arose at 3 in the morn, and rose from my bed...I heard the tv blazing and turned it off, proceeded into the bathroom to brush my chops. I came out and saw my girlfriend laying on the couch looking at me strangely, and I was a bit startled thinking she was beside me back in bed. I didn't remember even having fallen asleep, and was even more startled to realize I had crashed so early on a Sat night at 7ish. We watched and finished 'Rendition' with Jake Gyllenhaal, Reese Witherspoon, and Meryl Streep...definitely worth watching, really great flick...reminded me of Lions for Lambs but more engaging.

Last night I hooked up my pc to my lcd tv, so now I've got this huge ass widescreen tv as my monitor for my PC that is. I intend to use it more as a media server and start using my neglected imac as my main workhorse. Kinda weird transition, I am a avid pc user but I've grown very sickened by its constant need of attention, and I haven't the patience nor time to constantly research bugs and fixes or to try and tweak it to death. For now it'll be used for movies, games, and browsing...and thats about it.

Walgreens rant

noreply@blogger.com (Jasøn chaø†ík) — Thu, 06 Mar 2008 21:37:00 +0000

So I went to my local Walgreens, always a delightful time right? Righhtttttt! Putting in all my film for processing. When I come to get my rolls only one is developed, and the guy that works in film says to me stupidly that the machine broke...whatever the hell that has to do with anything. The black clerk mumbled incoherently, sounded strangely like Mike Tyson and I found it quite a bother trying to decipher the prattle that flew from his lips. Well, I thrust the unprocessed rolls of film back at him and said 'Finish these, I'll pick em up manana'.

Leticia, one of the clerks whom I am fond of asked me for some $$ from the Philippines to add to her collection. I promptly gave her two hundred pesos bills and a 20 pesos note. She got so excited and the whole store turned toward me as if they wanted me to go on some long winded tangent about my journey there. Anyways, I silently sauntered off...irked at the incompetent service of the film department....so inefficient!...well, at least they didn't fuck up my rolls right? Guess I should count my lucky stars on that matter. But I was still very jet lagged, and sulking in silence at being back here...the cold woke my ass up.

In the land of Coconut milk & hunnies

noreply@blogger.com (Jasøn chaø†ík) — Thu, 06 Mar 2008 16:12:00 +0000

I stopped into this 'Outback Steakhouse' imitation at the Mall of Asia in Manila. I had to take pictures with these chicks, it just struck me as funny as hell seeing them clad like cowgirls. Anyways, the girl/guy ratio is highly in favor of males, 10/1 are very good odds...and the hunnies over here are real gems...anyways, to all you single cats out there better take advantage while things are clearly in your favor.

Like my new outrageously expensive designer glasses? They're Emporio Armani's...Korean style...meaning perfect imitations. The only thing that they didn't bite was the pricetag....$20 USD vs. 121.60! If there's one thing that I take great pride in my people is the fact that they're awesome at producing perfect replica's of whatever sundry goods stupid yuppies back home pay a muthaload for.

View from the top of a mountain...real awesome isn't it?

A structure high up in the mountains.

Coffee in the morning, it's extremely gorgeous outside. Every morning should be this wondrous, so refreshingly alive in its aliveness.

So get this, while eating breakfast I saw something move out of the corner of my eye. I just peeped low and took a peek to see this big ass fucken snake slithering along its merry way. Everyone got dramatic and panicky, and the maid went to fetch some dudes nearby who tore the thing up. It was hissing and looked like it was gonna lash out. Turned out later to be a harmless tree snake...I felt bad, I should'a just kept quiet. Oh well! My bad. Sowwy poor snake! Next time you shouldn't disturb my kingly breakfast.

The most fascinating looking fruit I've ever seen...it's a member of the lychee family...it was out of season so not that flavorful but it sure is crazy looking.

I took this panoramic shot of Manila's cityscape, capturing some of the squatter residences...they were everywhere, and I mean everywhere.

Street scenes in Makati, Manila.

Front porch of my girlfriend's crib. This pic perhaps is the most symbolic and heartfelt to me in terms of remembrance....and the most heartfelt. I'd sit out here drinking San Miguel and chainsmoking the night away, lost in my thoughts and contemplating the deep love I'd felt here....writing and heedless of the pesky mosquito's getting drunk off my sweet nectar-like lifeblood.

Borocay report

noreply@blogger.com (Jasøn chaø†ík) — Sun, 02 Mar 2008 05:18:00 +0000

Borocay was indescribably beautiful, and I think it would take you a solid month in this earthly paradise to fully drink it all in. It's an all out attack on the senses, the thick layer of serenity and gorgeousness instantly melted away the thick icy layers that one gets from enduring a frozen hell for so long. I suddenly felt so diabolically spoiled rotten being here, like it was a cardinal sin when others were freezing their silly asses back home in shitcago. I liken it to Hawaii on steroids, but with Mexico's cheapness. There were many similarities to Mexico about the Philippines: both people's love Mango, use pesos, and are insanely opportunistic.

We met this ultra cool guide named Sallyboy who we hired to take us snorkeling then island hopping. My girl and I started feeding entire schools of fishies bread, and the gorgeous multi hued fishies attacked the food I offered em, and I enjoyed feeling their nibbling on my hands...amazing. Comically, these small rowboat 'salesmen' came about and tried selling us icecream or bocajuice (coconut juice) which was fucken hillarious. 'Philippino service' with a smile. I was tempted to buy some just because it was so absurdly funny.

Afterwards we headed to a insane seafood market where we bought enough food to feed a king: scrumptious blue marlon fillets, live dungeonous crab, live lobster wearing beautifully colored armor, and prawns the length of my hand. Sallyboy even got us the necessary ingredients, red chillies, garlic, vinegar for meat-sauce. I asked them if they were sick of seafood and they nodded, and it seemed that they loved red meat much more. My tagalog's getting tight, and most Flips seem to think I've got a very pliable tongue, who knew? :P

We then went to this isle called the Crystal cove and went cave exploring while our lunch was being prepared on a natural outdoor grill. The caves were crazy, and on the following day we explored cave #2 with this Russian couple we befriended who were staying at the same hotel we were at.

Speaking of Hotels, don't ever do what we did which was stay at the horrid Microtel. The first day our room was late, and then some crazy old fart started banging hysterically on the door that seperates the rooms at 4 am. I roared something challengingly and the fuckhead shat up. Turned out the crazy old fool was some obnoxious American geezer who was also complaining about others and was transferred next to us. Anyways, we complained and got an upgrade. But the staff nickel and dime you for stupid shit and it gets irritating real fast. Your best bet is to grab a room around station 1, they've got very comfy quarters there and theres plenty of places to shop and eat at. Not to mention most of the tenants are westerners and foreigners. I don't know bout you but I much rather prefer hanging with the locals. Fuck tourists!

The following morning a school of kids came swarming around us and picking out the prettiest seashells and stones along the shore. We gave em some coins but they were more happy when we gave em our bags of chips, which they greedily fought after. You notice these kids seemed more natural, more like kids ought to be. They weren't these horrifically spoiled little snots back in the states. There was this keen subtle smartness in their eyes which I admired. They weren't even looking to get paid or expecting anything in return, they simply were glad to demonstrate the keeness of their vision.

On Fri night, we went to the atms and found they were depleted. All of the locals attack it at once because it's payday, plus all the tourists also do so to prepare for their weekend partaying. S'all good, because my girlfriend got sick from having eaten too much crab. These American college kids in line were asking us how to get cash, because its a cash society here...and some of em were whinning 'We're so screwed' which made me laugh. My girl and I hopped in a tricycle back to Microtel, got some cash in our safe box, then headed to dinner at this place called Friday's. We had a memorable meal: blue marlon kabobs, oysters, seafood pie, salmon, shrimp, etc...all fresh, all delicious. The meal burned a large imprint in my mental camera.

I enjoyed walking along the dark beach, feeling the subtle wind on my back as I walked along with my gal back home. I loved the walkways, the huts and bungallows, and everything about this place made me swollen with envy and flooded my brain with immense love. How anybody could resist such a place was beyond me. Of course, some people were so stiff here, especially the foreigners. They simply hung at the hotel like a bunch of damned idiots, baking red like lobsters and getting massages. They didn't dare go venture out and even snorkel, much less go island hopping or cave exploring. Only the Russians did, and they hardly spoke a speck of English but they were fun and had a blast.

I'm now back in Manila, in my sig other's village. She's at church with her mom. I loved it there, the whiteness, and the sacred austere of the humble yet spacious place. I loved the play lot next to it where she used to swing and play when she was a little girl, and the Mackahaya that grows natively in the grass, which she used to also play with....also known as the shy plant, the praying plant or the sensitive plant. Mine back home committed suicide, I'll need to get a new one now.

Okay, more when I get back home. I've written a ton in my handwritten journal I'll have to transfer to my blog when I come home. Wish me a safe flight!

Manila Adventures

noreply@blogger.com (Jasøn chaø†ík) — Tue, 26 Feb 2008 04:31:00 +0000

Since my arrival here in the Philippines I've been having quite an obscene amount of fun and adventure. It's relatively indescribable, but I have to confess that I've fallen madly in love with life here. Not to say in the least that the warm weather is so soothingly seductive, I was amazed at how easily it melted away the horrid icy chills in my heart of hearts and I felt so refreshed, so clean and so wondrously renewed. Mentally, emotionally, spiritually.

My girlfriends family took an instant liking to me. They're quite warm and very loving, and they laugh at my jokes, my antics and my craziness. Her mom chuckles whenever I eat several mango's in one setting like some kinda starved barbarian. I've been spoiled by the household maid who makes breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Simple meals really, breakfast usually consists of warm french bread, coffee, mangos, eggs, importal Aussie cheeses. My girlfriend sometimes eats fish and rice instead. Something she's missed since she's been here. I guess its nostalgic.

I've written a ton in my handwritten journal. There's plenty that amazes me about this sad but beautiful country. There's a shitload of shopping to be done here. The megamalls make the ones in America look like cardboard boxes. You can always haggle the prices down too, which I've come to love. I laugh at how Americans simply pay whatever the pricetag dictates like a bunch of dumbshits. And there's much more of a selection...no need to shop at boring ass Banana Republic, or other shitty stores that sell boring looking clothes at outrageous prices.

I think I've amassed a good deal of pix as well. Of course I'll post em all when I get back to the states.

Greetings from Manila

noreply@blogger.com (Jasøn chaø†ík) — Sat, 23 Feb 2008 08:14:00 +0000

I'm in Net topia writing this, an internet cafe in this euge mall here in Manila. I realized that my appetite upon coming here shifted and lessened considerably, I think the humidity and heat has dissolved my ordinary eating patterns. I love it here, I really do. It's so damned lively, its always chaotic and filled with people everywhere you go. Sure, the poverty is rather depressing at times...but there'll always be such impoverished elements in any major human hub. But the poor here, they're not like the bums and beggars back home. You can see the desperation in their eyes. The children beggars are aggressive little sonofabitches. It occured to me that these little scallywags could rake in a very sexy income for themselves in the states. Actually I don't think homeless children are condoned in the states, they become wards of the state instead. I don't care how much of a greedy yuppified self absorbed American you are, you'd be dumbstruck at the impoverished squatter cities that exist here in pockets.

I've written a ton. I've been subsisting on san miguel beer, mangos, and have been pampered like an Asian prince by my girlfriends family. The other day I got a foot spa for the first time in my life, and the funny lady speaking in Tagalog said that my feet were dry as a bone. She scrapped the layers of dead flakey skin off, smiling and cracking lighthearted jokes all the while. Everythings fucken cheap here, it'd blow your mind.

Life here can be so, well....Asian. It's really an entirely different universe. You have to toss aside all of your Americanism. There's this harshness, this no nonsense side to Philippines. My asian sensibilities understands it, but at times my Western half gets sort of...annoyed by various aspects. How Philippino's are so distrustful toward one another, sort of tactless in some regards, and very classist. Oh well, every race is imperfect in its own unique way...

My fingers are too tired to type more. Ciao...more when I get back!

Blog of the day

noreply@blogger.com (Jasøn chaø†ík) — Fri, 15 Feb 2008 22:47:00 +0000

FUK | This blog's pretty useful, it talks about scams and also real ways to make real $$ online...not all of these bullshit methodologies I always tend to ignore.

All the fake women in my life

noreply@blogger.com (Jasøn chaø†ík) — Fri, 15 Feb 2008 22:33:00 +0000

Read this shit it's funny.

This caused quite a stir

noreply@blogger.com (Jasøn chaø†ík) — Fri, 15 Feb 2008 21:45:00 +0000

Apparently some Street Artist who goes by the alias 'Solve' managed to put one of his 'installations' aboard the CTA Blue Line recently. It's caused quite a riot of course...wonder how he managed to get the damned thing jacked into a power source? Shit I would've been like 'Free tv set, yay!' haha...even if it is a crappy piece of electronic shit. But then I might get busted and goto jail, the blasted contraption is most likely ill begotten.

So is this 'art' nowadays, or life imitating art?

3 x terrorists

noreply@blogger.com (Jasøn chaø†ík) — Fri, 15 Feb 2008 19:38:00 +0000

From the creators of 'Jihadists gone wild' and 'Kill that American Infidel, the Revenge' we finally have the whole thing figured out, so it works out for everyone....duh duh duh duhhhhhhh Mystery solved: We now know why Terrorists want to kill anyone who's not Muslim. According to their website and other material, several now reformed ex terrorists have shed the light on the topic and on the elusive reason. Guess what? They hate us! Yep, it's true. I know what you're thinking, how can anyone possibly hate American's? Aren't we pretty much the entire world as a whole? :)

Okay its much more informative that I let on. It's damned interesting stuff. First off, did you even know there's actual live terrorists right here in our own fucken back yard. Some guy who was trained by Osama Bin Laden dwells in a Mosque right here in the fucken Windy City...but hells bells someone tell me what the fuck our brilliant Homeland Security force is doing what about it? They're harassing illegal immigrants, thats what! One can't help but to laugh and giggle at the very name. It's become something of a joke, and it has 0 street creds.

I was told by a friend of mine told me that one of these guys did a comparative translation from the Qur'an and the bible. There were striking similarities in terms of terms used. For instance, they refer to their patron deity Mohamed as The Deceiver. Which, if anybody who hasn't dwelt in a cave for the last decade knows is the term used to describe Satan. The religion itself was created out of envy of Christianity. In truth, it's a man contrived religion, no ifs ands or buts about it. It's right up there with scientology as far as I'm concerned.

Watch what they have to say

Valentines Day

noreply@blogger.com (Jasøn chaø†ík) — Fri, 15 Feb 2008 19:27:00 +0000

I WOKE UP with a slight hangover. My boy Noel dropped by and I was rather thrilled to see him, particularly because he was toting two cases of Samuel Adams...do you know Sam? He’s one of my bestest of friends. He’s always there for you when you need him, he’s not emotionally unavailable like so many so called friends are…whenever you have worries or fears he has this magical power to erase the pain away. He’s my therapist, my advisor, my personal consultant and he always makes ugly people look more attractive than they actually are.

I started advising Noel to start dating around proactively, since he’s gone through a relatively difficult breakup. He's quite resistant to the idea. He was thinking he was being intrusive because it was V-day, and I laughed..."Everyday's Valentines Day for my gal!" I said, and it was quite true. I think he’s still in the wallowing stage, which takes a hell of a long time to get through. I remember mine with my ex, it was horrendous….and that wasn’t even a good sane or healthy one! I guess there’s very good reason a guy must suffer the pains and tribulations of dating girls who turn out to be serious byiatches. It teaches you that beauty lasts about as long as a fart in the wind. My wallowing was so, I don’t know…an incomprehensible blur of lurid imagery. Drinking alone in dark uninteresting bars; waking up with unholy headaches and intolerable agonies, praying to the Almighty himself to purge you of that old familiar feeling, or simply trying to lose yourself in the thrill of the hunt. I was like a social predator in a way, seeking out my own Anabel Lee but finding next to nothing.

They say not to search for love, but whoever says that has never tasted it. Love is patient, but finding love takes incredible impatience, relentlessness, resourcefulness and great precision. It’s never easy like in the movies, and if it wasn’t as rare as a orchid in the desert then everyone would have it and being authorities in getting it now wouldn’t they? So next time you hear that annoying piece of un-wisdom just blast the idiot who tells it.
Anyways, Noel will be sauntering off to the Philippines right after me, I’m sure he’ll forget all about his woes of the heart here in shietcago. There’s plenty of sweet looking hunnies to be had over there. He kept asking me if I was ready to settle, and I chuckled…’Uh, haven’t I already?’ well I have. I can’t imagine myself being single, having to tirelessly pursue chicks who aren’t even half the woman my significant other is. My new passion, my new purpose is chasing my dreams. I’ve got the girl already, now I need to make my first million…no seriously, I do. I’ve got enough crazy shit going on in my brain to fill up Millennium Park.
So I joined one of those listing sites called Blog Catalog. Immediately upon being accepted I saw all of these so called bloggers who were actually money grubbers…you know, they get you to goto their blogs and beg you shamelessly to click on their ads. Fuck that shit! I don’t have one muthafucken ad on my blog, I don’t use Google ad sense, and I don’t care to either. I don’t envision visitors wanting to click on ads that lead to penis enlargement pills, valestra, Viagra, or buying cheap property on some island resort in the Bahamas.

Writing about your life

noreply@blogger.com (Jasøn chaø†ík) — Fri, 15 Feb 2008 18:59:00 +0000

An interesting article talking about how to write journals, life stories, and the like. It's a pretty good kick off to getting memories published. You never know!

Yet another shooting

noreply@blogger.com (Jasøn chaø†ík) — Fri, 15 Feb 2008 15:41:00 +0000

Daniel Parmenter, age 20, last of Westchester, Ill.
Catalina Garcia, age 20, last of Cicero, Ill.
Ryanne Mace, age 19, last of Carpentersville, Ill.
Julianna Gehant (pronounced Ghee-hant), age 32, last of Mendota, Ill.
Gayle Dubowski, age 20, last of Carol Stream, Ill.

As some of you may already know some crazed grad student at Northern University in Dekalb IL went on a shooting spree, blasting away at a throng of students at random.

Imagine you're at school, at work, shopping at Target or Wal-Mart and out comes some damaged individual with a gun who starts blowing people away for whatever the sick puppy has going on in his damaged brain. It's become a sudden national trend, and nobodies safe from it. Hell, 2 statewide incidents only a mere week apart! The first I speak of is the Lane Bryant shooting of five women inside of the store in Tinley Park, a suburb of Chicago. And for what? The asshole stole two hundred bucks. Devastating. Who's going to protect you? Our overweight donut eating pension collecting cops? Yeah right. They're tools, and useless ones at that. Don't entrust your safety to them. I think everyone out there living in a major metropolis in our great society needs to step up with the street smarts, learn to override the stupid school of thought that every human is a decent law abiding citizen, and take the necessary steps to defending ones self. Hell I think there ought to be bullet proof sweaters made! Call me paranoid, call me whatever the fuck you want but you'd be whistling a different sort of tune if you were to be caught with your pants down when some stupid sonofabitch tries to mug, murder or rape you.

Isn't it scary in the least where we're all so numb, so utterly desensitized to horrific tragedies like this? Not only does it not shock us, we've come to expect it. Well thanks to the media sensationalizing the V-tech massacre, expect lots of mental cases to be copy catting that national horror story.

I think Godlessness has some part in this recurring acts of mindless violence. Let's face it, America's strayed way off of its theme of 'One nation under God'. All of these liberal fucktards who are so anti-God and anti-morality, anti anti anti have driven anything remotely teaching ethical behavior, or which instills a common sense of morality in people. It offends them to do so, religion in any capacity scares the living shit out of them, its an affront to their lifestyles. Strangely enough they don't even practice what they preach which is acceptance and supposed tolerance. But their own doctrines are simply lazy half-ass justifications for acting like irrational idiots. Then you got actual professors in top notch universities who've gone from being the elite intelligentsia to propagandists and in a weird sort of way they're more like secular clerics who preach messages of anti-faith, anti-belief.

Common sense isn't so common these days. Why in blazes some people even goto school for is beyond me, many college grads couldn't even find their own home state on a damned map, much less grasp the basic precepts of math and science, and don't even get me started on literature, art, and history even. The teacher's themselves aren't much better off, they lack the infectious passion and pride they once possessed...

We all need to become vigilantes. That, or elevate the status of police. Give them a major wage upgrade, specialized training, increase standards and restrictions, better weapons, martial arts training, grenades, rocket launchers, flame throwers, batman like gadgetry...cool shit like that. Oh and let them keep any drug-money that they find on raids, call it a 'Profit sharing' aspect of the job. That'd clear the streets of drug infestation!

RIP to all of those poor dead students.

Talking bout my gurl....

noreply@blogger.com (Jasøn chaø†ík) — Thu, 14 Feb 2008 21:25:00 +0000

I remember running into her on the street, just outside of the Berwyn el stop. It was a mid-summers night while I was walking along…I’d intentionally gotten off the wrong station, I wanted to walk home some…feel the beautiful summer breeze braise gently against my skin. During the summer season in Chicago I found walking to be immensely pleasurable, meditative too.
That wasn’t the way we met, but it was a memorable moment in both of our timelines. We had met only a few weeks before at Dominicks on Sheridan and Foster…I think it was next to the produce department. I’d accidently toppled a mountain of fuji apples in her path, and she tripped…hard…very hard. Everyone seemed to stop in their tracks and give me cold dirty stares. A moment later as I was helping her up to her feet, those evil looks soon transformed. The women were smiling stupidly and going ‘Awwwwwwww’ with their eyes, and the male spectators started rolling their eyes, disgusted by such a display. I felt quite heroic, and she was flustered, quiet, a little pissed? I couldn’t gauge her. I think that’s what compelled me to do what I did. For once my inadvertent clumsiness actually worked in my favor. Don’t get me wrong, I’m highly balanced and well coordinated, it comes from years of martial arts training. But at times I had this strange accident proneness to me. Like I accidently yawn and stretch out a hand to strike someone in the face, etc. I think I have a weird luck factor going. For instance: a mugger who’d tried chasing after me tripped on ice…tripped! That saved my bacon. I’d run forward instinctively, the guy could’ve been packing heat or a knife. So I spun and roundhoused the dumbshit. He struck me in the ear, I was going to do a fight club reenactment at that moment…
While helping her to her feet, I employed my pick pocketing skill and slipped a business card into her purse. Of course, I could have simply given it to her…but where’s the fun in that? However, she promptly invited me out to Club Rocket the coming Fri night after work.
She immediately caught my eye. We’d met briefly, at that meat market club Rocket downtown. I think this time on the street she noticed me more clearly, and I could sense that she was powerfully attracted to this body, this form, this grinning face. I found her very beautiful herself…and she smelled like angels ought to smell. We had striking similarities, and petty differences. She was definitely more sensitive than me in many things, perhaps. But at times she could be more insensitive about things as well.
We spent many nights in her dingy apartment conversing next to the window and smoking Marlboro menthol lights or parliament lights over glasses of cheap table wine. Her small humble digs I now remember with sentimental reverie…we were so happy there…so many clustered memories flood my mind whenever I stop to stare back at that time.
Every morn we’d walk over to Starbucks for some coffee, and I’d walk her to the Bryn Mawr station so she could get to work in time. Remember getting annoyed whenever 24 came on, as her place was right next to the train the blasted Redline train would roar past and scramble our set with static…particularly during the intense torture scenes we were so incredibly fond of. Nothing like the maniacal heroics of a crazy spy to serve as the glue which held us together so tight and snug.