omgwtf!

There are days when I think that no matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, I will never, ever be able to fit in this world. I will never learn to tolerate people or play by the rules a clueless, mediocre society has seen fit to put in place. I dont know who these people are. I dont know where these rules came from. All I know is that I dont get along, I dont fit in, and nothing will ever be all right. Nothing.

Today is one of those days.

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This is the best news I’ve heard in weeks. !

George Takei Discloses His Homosexuality - Yahoo! News

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I’ve been sitting here for a few days, since news of her death hit the world media, trying to figure out how to say in words what this woman meant to me. I never got a chance to meet her, and I wish I had, just to thank her.

Now, days after her passing, I still can’t transpose my feelings into words. Suffice to say that Rosa Parks was one of the people I most looked up to. She lived a long, full life and stood for so many things I believe in at the core of myself that even when I disagreed with her, I admired her. The human race is better for her having walked the face of this world, and her death has left us poorer.

But she survived when many did not, and she never laid down the charge she picked up all those many years ago: to fight for what was right and what was good, to never give up the struggle, to never succumb to violence. This woman was not only a national jewel of inestimable value, she was a worldwide icon of what it means to have dignity and self respect, no matter who you are and no matter where you come from. Because of Rosa Parks and her lifelong devotion to freedom and equality, millions of people around the world now have a life they once could not have even dreamed of. She fought for those who couldnt, as well as those who wouldnt.

How do you say goodbye to someone like that?

Rosa Parks - Wikipedia

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Awesome. What a great way to dismiss the fact that the entire country is in nothing short of complete and utter upheaval and it’s all your fault.

Background noise.

I hope all you motherfuckers who voted for this fucking guy choke to death on a rancid cock.

CNN.com - Bush vows not to be distracted by political problems - Oct 20, 2005

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Whatever the reason, global warming is now a fact of life. Many people believe that global warming is caused by human pollution. Others believe it’s a natural cycle of the planet’s functioning. And there are those short-sighted, arrogant, selfish ostriches parading as human beings…whether due to greed or ignorance doesnt really matter…who don’t believe it’s happening at all.

Personally, I believe it’s a combination of the first two factors, and that most of the humans causing the worst damage are the ones that make up the population I mention in the third factor.

Many of that sort of person could be found in pre-Katrina New Orleans. I lived in the city only seven months, but I am here to tell you that sometimes, seven months can seem like seven decades. New Orleans was one case in point that perfectly illustrated that phenomenon. Now, 12 years later, I still think fondly of New Orleans a surprising amount of the time. The Garden District, mostly, at night, with its twinkling lights and the lush, heady smells of wisteria, honeysuckle, and tropical heat, often comes back to haunt me in dark and pleasant ways, as though I were in an Anne Rice vampire novel. It really is…was…like that, New Orleans, in unexpected pockets of the city. I think a lot of the French Quarter, as well. I spent a lot of time roaming the streets of the Vieux Carre, always finding a hidden nook or courtyard even on streets I’d been down a hundred times before.

(wait, I can explain…)

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It’s been pouring rain here for the past 24 hours. Thunder, lightning, the works. Pretty nice. A soothing backdrop for sadness.

I am experiencing a phenomenon which I have christened “free floating creativity.” Ever feel anxious and distressed for no reason? You know, free floating anxiety? Well, free floating creativity is when you have overwhelming feelings of creativity and you have absolutely no idea what to do as an outlet. Nothing you do gives you the slightest satisfaction, everything you try to do comes out all wrong somehow; grotesque mockeries of the sparkling, fragile beauty dancing tantalizingly, maddeningly out of reach in your brain, and you can’t seem to produce a single idea as to how to release all the pent up imagination. It’s a horrible position to be in; like youre on the edge of what you just know woudl be a full-body, mind-blowing orgasm but you just…can’t…make it.

This is the brink upon which I’ve been perched for a good number of weeks; quite probably the entire summer so far. If I could just have one inspiration, something that I can really sink my teeth and claws into and which would be really creatively satisfying, it would break this dam and I’d be on my way. But somehow, it’s not happening. It’s like when I’m having a particularly bad time with my sinuses and both nostrils are firmly plugged up to protect me from any dangerous oxygen that might be in the vicinity.

How to break through this? If you have any ideas, I’d love to hear them. In the meantime, I sit here re-reading the news and thinking about Spruce and trying to come up with something that matters.

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Spruce died at around 5:00 this morning.

I am glad that he went so quickly and did not have to endure the suffering of a long, drawn-out bout of illness at the end of a relatively healthy and illness-free life. In fact, out of all the rats in his rescue group, Spruce is the only one who did not suffer from bad health; he had chronic bumblefoot and one tumour, which was removed a few months ago. Other than that, he was perfectly healthy. When compared to his brother, who had respiratory problems all his life, and the other two boys in his merry band, Eenie, who grew to a massive size, had some aggression issues, and died quite young while I was in the hospital, as well as Hemlock, who had the worst health problems of all with his active mycoplasmosis that claimed him terribly early, as well, Spruce came out looking like a champion.

I love all my rats dearly, but I have to say that knowing Hazel and Spruce was one of the most remarkable periods of my life. I hope that someday, I am able to have twin rats again. They never failed to bring a ray of joy and laughter to me.

I can’t be too sad, I suppose, because Spruce lived as full as life as he could have…but I miss my boys. I miss them terribly.

If humanity ever comes to its senses and rat medicine does indeed become a field of research, the very first thing they need to do is find a way to extend their miniscule lifespan. It is, by far, the most horrible aspect of being a rat mom.

Goodbye, Sprucey Rockets, you saucy little poo-filled man, you.

Edit: I just noticed what the quote box has in it today, and it couldn’t be more appropriate. I swear that fucking thing is sentient. It’s one of my favourite quotes from Watership Down, and one that never fails to spring to my mind when one of my rats dies:

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So after putting it off all day, I finally started work a couple hours ago and man, the first tape turns out to be a dude who speaks such unbelievably heavily accented English that it’s almost totally impossible to understand him. Add to that the fact that the sound is muddy and there is not one, but two people asking him questions, often at the exact same time, and all three of these clowns overlap each other like it’s going out of style. It’s taking me fucking forever to do this piece of shit.

I don’t know what the deal is but all we’ve been getting lately is this kind of “non-standard” interview and it’s taking 500 times longer than normal interview would. You would really be surprised how tired you can get just sitting in one place and typing. It doesnt seem possible, but after a tape like this one, all you want to do is curl up with your thumb in your mouth and go to sleep for six hours. It’s really exhausting. I mean, he seems like a perfectly nice guy, but Jesus Christ, I can’t understand a word out of his mouth. Shit like this should be given to an in-house, Spanish-speaking typist. They aren’t going to be able to do dick with the transcript I’m going to have to give them, and it’s still going to cost them money, because they have to pay me for it, regardless, since it’s not my fault I couldn’t understand the guy.

An upside to this, though, is that this weekend we get a special bonus for all the work we do, so we get to make more money than we ordinarily would for whatever jobs we took. So at least that’s something.

Now here’s the really bad news. Just to make matters a little more stressful, my grampa rat, Spruce, seems to be experiencing the first stages of respiratory failure. He lost his twin, Hazel, back in August. I was worried about Spruce being able to survive Hazel’s death, but I tried to help him as best I could by paying a lot of attention to him. He was very sad for a couple of weeks but seemed to adjust pretty well, considering he’d never spend a moment of his life without his brother by his side. They were practically glued together. He’s been doing fine up until today; a few hours ago he started getting pretty agitated and I noticed his breathing had become a bit laboured.

He started making the motions of a rat in respiratory distress a few hours ago. I recognize the symptoms all too well by now, and I think I’m going to be losing him within the next day or two. He is a very old rat, two and a half years old now, and he’s had a long, full, hopefully happy life, but all the same, I’d like to hang on to him for a little longer. I was really hoping he’d make three. He seemed to be going on so strong! One of the bitterest things about having rats is that they rarely seem to ever die peacefully in their sleep. Instead, many rats…especially males, in my experience…who reach very advanced age seem to die of respiratory failure.

Taking Spruce to the vet isnt an option; he wouldn’t be able to manage the car ride; the stress of the ride alone would probably kill him before I got to the office. I’m not going to make what may be his final hours a hellish experience of fear and unfamiliarity. All the same, it would be nice if this little old man could at least skip the suffering and just pass away peacefully in his sleep, dreaming of his brother and running happily along whatever pleasant paths his mind wanders in his slumber.

He is fitful and restless. I have a fan set up in front of his cage now, so the airflow is increased, and this seems to have eased him somewhat, but not entirely. I feel so impotent and angry that I cannot help him more. He shouldn’t have to go through this shit. The medical community tortures and kills rats by the millions for medical research, and yet nobody can fucking come up with a solution to their health problems. Their lives are sacrificed to serve humanity, and humanity’s thank you is simply that theyre not worth saving because theyre only worthless rats. I can barely sit still for the injustice and cruelty of it all. I only want to be able to make him comfortable. I can’t even do that. Well, what the fuck good am I then?

This fucking sucks.

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“Kuribo’s Shoe wrote:

RMD is so fat, that when he sits around the house, people in the house say, good lord you’re a massive butter creature, get on a fucking treadmill if you can manage such a complex action without your brittle bones being crushed under the sheer gravitic pull of your ham rolls.”

The above gem is a quote from a regular poster at the Penny Arcade forums.

I’ve said it before but it’s totally worth mentioning: the SE++ forum over there is the best fucking forum on the Internets. These bastards are funny as shit, and I have a great time hanging out there. I rarely post, but I love sitting around and reading the conversations. There is never a day that goes by that someone doesn’t post something in that forum that doesnt have me nearly wetting myself. Great bunch of people.

If you’re easily offended in any way whatsoever, stay the fuck out. We dont want your smelly, uptight ass around and you’ll get it handed to you pretty readily. It’ll be ugly. And fucking hilarious.

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Okay so this has very little to do with Nine Inch Nails, but the little bit it has to do with them is absolutely vital. Also, I’m feeling rather chatty, so don’t say you weren’t warned.

As you know if you (for some reason) regularly visit this space, I went to go see Nine Inch Nails on the first of October. It would turn out to be drummer Jerome Dillon’s last show (he’s got heart problems that he’s had to drop out of the tour temporarily to address), so I got pretty lucky in that regard, because he’s a monster fucking drummer. Aside. Anyway, for this leg of the tour, they have a three band set. In the US, it’s pretty much been Autolux and Queens of the Stone Age, who I lambasted pretty soundly as being one of the shittiest bands alive. I still dont know if that’s entirely true or if they had a spectacularly bad night when I saw them; suffice to say it was the first time since Yngwe Malmsteen in the late eighties that I seriously considered walking out of the show to wait until NIN came back on. I did walk out on Malmsteen, but stayed for QOTSA because the stairs were giving me an ulcer attack.

Trent Reznor is in the enviable, and rare, position of being a major artist on a rather independent label with enough power to pretty much run his own show, whether it’s live or in the studio. He is well known as a major control freak, and he also is well known for pushing his favourite artists. He routinely chooses acts that are his personal favourites to accompany him on tour.

(wait, I can explain…)

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Installing my fabulously huge new hard drive last night was so simple that I’m sitting here convinced something atrocious will be happening to it at any moment. I should be backing up the other stuff on the drive just in case, but I’m too busy listening to Filter. I wish to hell I had better volume on these headphones, but I have to build an amp for them before I can go up to the brain-rattling level I want. The new soundcard I got is a pretty good one, but it doesnt do headphones very well. I just have to build the headphone amp I found a recipe for on the Internets. Then it’ll be cool.

So yeah, I thought I was going to have to throw down in a to-the-death, steel cage arm wrestling match with the OS in order to force it to recognize the size of this drive, but no such thing. I used the software Seagate included on a CD with the drive, called DiscWizard, and I was done in less than 10 minutes. It was very nearly a one click operation. To be precise, and if I recall correctly, it was a two click, slide the thingie to 100%, one more click and youre done operation. I almost did it again just because it was so fast I couldn’t believe it. Well done, Seagate!

And now, to download the Filter collection…

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