Ode to Clarissa

The air was different that day. It smelled like the the monkey house at the Bronx Zoo, the room where they kept the white-faced saki. The room was full of enormous trees, and the air was moist and cool. You wouldn't think a room full of monkeys would smell so pleasing, but to me, it did. Maybe it was due to some fond childhood memories, or maybe it was just because I like to have sex with monkeys. Who knows?

The Tremor of '07

Or "The Fart Heard 'Round the World"

I think I can safely say this is the proudest I've ever been in my life. First of all, I've never even had one come out as a visible bubble before, so that was a pleasant surprise. Second, I can't believe I was able to jump inside of it without it breaking.

It started to lift off the ground. I guess sulfur is lighter than air. I don't know if that's true or not, but I'll buy it. Maybe the atmosphere in New York City is different from normal air, because of all the gases coming from the decomposing corpses of the hobos Giuliani had "taken care of." Who knows? I'm no scientist.

The bubble was a watery-brown color, but it was also pretty transparent, so people could see that I was naked inside of it. It started floating down the street, right through Times Square. (My dad works at the New York Times, I was visiting him at work when it happened. Did I mention that it started in the newsroom? It was pretty loud and blew papers off tables all over the room, and somebody yelled "Stop the presses!" It started to fly out the window so I ran and dove into it. It turns out the presses did stop, but not because of the seriousness of the news, but because the shockwaves from the emission destroyed them.)

By the way, did I mention the smell? It was tremendous! It was like the Sasquatch had feast upon the Loch Ness monster's maggot infested corpse, and then barfed it all over Godzilla's dick. I couldn't stop vomiting, and it kept falling through the bubble. I think that's called a "semi-permeable membrane." Hey, maybe there's hope for that science degree yet.

Anyway, people were screaming and pointing up at me, and I was waving and vomiting at them. It was the most happy I had ever been. I flew over all of the landmarks: the Statue of Liberty (My vomit melted off her robes. It turns out she's just a glowing green, metal skeleton underneath it all, not a naked woman.), Ground Zero (I tried to salute but I was still having a hard time with all the vomiting.), the building where they filmed Ghostbusters, all the important stuff.

When I made it to the Empire State Building, of course it popped, and my vomit rampage was over. The crowds cheered for a few seconds, but they didn't realize the smell had been released. Then they did.

And that's how I killed New York City.

Writing prompt courtesy of Jaleel White's Blog.

mbaa

You would think that someone that smells like poo would get it worked out pretty quickly. I mean, I know when I start smelling like I just crapped my pants, showering becomes a high priority item on my to-do list. Now, I know it can be difficult to tell if you smell, because you get used to it, I guess, but you should realize that something is up when people start burying their heads in their own asses as soon as you come around. I guess what I'm saying is, it's comfortable, but it's not that comfortable.

He's a Criminal Mastermind!

I have this irrational fear of my father having beaten off into the shampoo. I don't know where this comes from; it doesn't even sound like something he would do, but that makes it even more terrifying. I would never know! Every time I take a shower at home, I think about this, and really creeps me out, to think I could have dad-jizz all over my head. It truly is the perfect crime.

Phrases That Need to Go

I consider myself the ultimate authority on all things English, and so should you. I have decided to use this power to protect the language from violation, and will now be banning certain phrases from use.

"Now that's what I call..."

Enough. That's so lame. I don't think there has ever been a time where that setup was funny, but if it was, it was before anyone reading this blog was born.

"That's so random!"

I'm declaring the word "random" to be dead. No more "random." The only instance in which it will be acceptable is in reference to a number generator. If you see a crazy YouTube video, you will not describe it as "random." Feel free to say "unexpected" or "absurd." You don't mean "random." Stop it.

"Rock out with your cock out."

Christ. If ever there was a reason to outlaw rhyming, this is it.

"Society."

Any talk about society, while not banned, is to be looked down upon, unless it comes from a sociologist. Even then, come on.

This list will never end.

Bizarre Can't Rap!

Feet are gross. There is no such thing as a nice foot, there are only varying gradations in grotesquerie. Living in a dorm has made me realize to an even greater extent that I am surrounded by the insane. The amount of people that don't share my disgust in feet is staggering.

Also, I used not to hate Uggs, but now I do. Here's why: they are almost robot boots. If they were robot boots, they would be the best thing ever, but for now they just serve as a reminder of what could have been. Please, girls, stop wearing Uggs until they start putting rockets in the bottom. Just go for the Chucks.

Getting Older...

It's a sad day when your farts start smelling like your dad's. A sad day indeed.

Which Of Us Belongs In College?

Guy #1: "You wanna smoke tonight?"
Guy #2: "If I smoke it's gotta be crack."

I can't believe that wasn't a joke. Jesus Christ. One of us is going to have to die, immediately. My vote goes for you. Why don't you just make it easier on the both of us and swallow a box of shotgun shells right now?

Filicide

I was killing again. The urge was too great; I couldn't stop. I carried them all the way here, coming back to the place I knew so well, and with my pants around my ankles, I began throwing them into the water. It was murky, a cloudy brown, but it was still clear enough for me to see them hit the bottom. I hated their smell; they made me sick, my children disgusted me. When I was done, they would be gone forever. Nobody would miss them. I was the only one who loved them. They had no place here, so I disposed of them, brushing them aside like so many homeless. I felt like the mayor, pretending to care about them as I had them destroyed, sending them on a mass migration to some far off land. I didn't care, as long as I didn't have to deal with them. I wanted them gone. I wanted to hurl. I had a sudden urge to take a picture, to show people the magnitude of my crimes. I was done. But it would never end. Soon, I would be back, ready to murder more innocents, just as they entered the world. I pulled up my pants and flushed.

King of Punk

What does it say about you when the only thing you can think of to say to a stranger is, "How many bodies do you think you can fit in that closet?"

It says you are kickass. I don't care what anyone else says.

Rules

• No talking before 12 PM.
• No loitering.
• No cameras.
• No scrubs.
• No pigeons.
• If this is your first night at Fight Club, you have to fight.
• Wrap that rascal!
• Listen.
• You gotta keep 'em separated.
• This really is the city that never sleeps!
• Just wear it.
• Two dudes is gross.
• What do we say?
• Grope while the groping's good.
• You never go ass-to-mouth!
• There will be no fighting in the war room!
• Quit playin' games with my heart.
• I'm the decider.
• Pull and pray.
• Maybe you could start jeté-ing and stop je-terrorizing me?
• No yodeling without a supervisor.
• Never cross the streams!
• This aggression will not stand, man!
• Impeach Bush.
• Just in case you were wondering, BJ's don't count!
• You'll appreciate this later.
• Cross the streams.
• There's no money above the fifth.
• Fuckin' cockass!
• Take your tray.
• Get out.
• Stay out.
• I don't care who he is, normalcy is not a word.
• Just take it!
• Grow up.

A Gay Diary Entry

Dear Diary,

I definitely do not regret coming out of the closet! I'd been living a lie, and it's about time Debbie realized it. I mean, I have a favorite figure skater, for pete's sake! She'll move on though, and find another queer to fake it for a few years.

Lordy, is this great! It's like I'd been standing in front of a cock-dam for all these years, and now the pin has been pulled, and it's just a never-ending torrent of cock flowing right towards me! Yumma yumma yumma! And it's not all coming from the same direction, either. I can't sit still for a second, with so much dick coming my way (as if I could sit down anymore, if you know what I mean). It seems like as soon as I'm done with one stud, there's another one right there waiting for me!

Well, diary, I should go, Tad keeps nibbling at my ear!

Much Love,
Davon

Later...

Zac: ew
Zac: lol
Zac: ew
Zac: hes so hairy
Zac: ...
Zac: o yea and the fish

Best Reaction Ever

Zac: holy shit
Zac: holy fucking shit
Zac: but
Zac: but
Zac: HOW
Zac: omg!
Zac: aaaahhh!
Zac: i cant believe it
Zac: i cant believe it
Zac: omg
Zac: omg
Zac: hahahah

Believe it.

Uh...

Today, I went to the express lane to buy deodorant, Head & Shoulders, and hand lotion. The chick working there now thinks I smell, have dandruff, and am exceedingly lonely. The joke's on her, though, because once I get my mail-order bride, I'll never be lonely again!

A Great Misunderstanding

David: I asked Jordan for pictures from the Japan trip and he keeps sending me pictures of himself naked.

Adam: Yeah, see, for me, it was the exact opposite! I don't get it.

The University Segregationer

She knew she was taking a risk by using the boys' bathroom, but she was really drunk, and definitely unable to make the trip up the stairs to get to the girls' room. She'd heard stories about the bathroom monitors at the university, inbred mutants wandering the campus, but thought they were just stories. She'd had many arguments with people about this. First, nobody had ever seen one in person (the believers would add "and lived to tell about it"). Second, the very idea of paying someone money to patrol bathrooms for the very purpose of segregation seemed antiquated and extravagant to her. Anyway, this wasn't even what she was worried about, as she ducked into the fourth stall. Her real source of distress was the vile state of the bathroom. It was disgusting. Second to last, this was the only stall even close to clean. Every guy on the floor claimed only to use "number four"; if that was the case, she wondered, how did the others always end up destroyed?

After locking the stall door, she was about to resign herself to a life wrought with venereal disease, when she heard the bathroom door open. She quickly sat down on the toilet, and hugged her legs up to her body, hoping to disguise her presence. She wondered why she hadn't heard her friend, whom she had stationed at the door, warn her of the incoming visitor, but soon forgot about it, as she heard his heavy stride. The bathroom tiles crunched beneath his powerful, deliberate footfalls. She heard two powerful inhalations, like an animal catching a scent, followed by a declaration, spoken in a low, gravelly tone: "Hrmmm... smells like verjina in here!" This utterance was immediately followed by a crash, a yelp, and then another cry, as the door to her stall was kicked in, and she reacted in surprise at the door, and then in greater surprise at the man standing on the other side of it.

He was tall, probably around seven feet. He was dressed in traditional, depression-era rural clothing: dirty coveralls, a torn flannel shirt, a well-worn cowboy hat, and brown work boots. He was carrying a kerosene lantern in one hand, and a sawed-off shotgun in the other. These were all things that took her a few minutes to notice, as she could not quickly remove her focus from his face. He was old; his wrinkles almost enveloped all of his facial features, except for one spot where they relented: the smooth, blank spot where his left eye should have been. "Someone's in here," she cried.

"Yeah, someone what shouldn't be," he replied in the same low growl as before. "I's been sent by the powers that be to right this wrong and send you back to the hell what you been sent from, darlin'."

"But I didn't do anything! The stalls are private, why should it matter who uses them?" she reasoned. He thought about this for a few seconds, and until he had figured out the answer.

"'Cause I'mun shoot any woman what uses this bathroom." This seemed to satisfy him, and he smiled as he cocked his shotgun.

"I just don't see how 'I'm gonna shoot you' is an excuse to shoot me," she stammered as he lowered the twin-barrels to her face.

Her last feelings were those of regret. She didn't regret her decision, but rather the fact that the last words she would hear would be "git 'r done!"

Her friend had heard and seen it all, but was too terrified to do anything about it. The man, or whatever he was, soon finished her off, for "aidin' and abettin' a strumpet." The halls of the university dorm still echo, to this day, with the screams of that night.

"Git 'r done!"

Thoughts on UMass Riot

Upon witnessing such an event, there is no system of classification which can honestly catalogue these imbeciles in the same species as myself. I refuse it. These are not human beings, they are animals; primary observation leaves no other conclusion to be drawn.

On a side note: "I can understand rioting if you win, but not if you lose." I have never heard a more maddeningly ridiculous and asinine statement in my entire life.

I Was Born a Poor Black Child

Watching Pursuit of Happyness really made me realize how much I wished Will Smith was my father, just as watching Se7en made me aware of my longing for the grandfatherly presence of Morgan Freeman.

Morality & the Nietzschean Übermensch

In his book, Thus Spoke Zarathustra, Friedrich Nietzsche explains the concept of the Übermensch, the superman. The Nietzschean Übermensch completes three steps in order to be considered as such. First, he is destructive in certain actions, rebelling against societal ideals and morals. Second, he is creative, in disjunction with nihilism, re-evaluating old ideals and creating new ones. Third, he must continuously struggle against himself. The titular character of Olaf Stapledon’s novel, Odd John, is a perfect example of a Nietzschean Übermensch, as he fulfills all of these steps towards greatness. Spanning the years between 1910 and 1933, Odd John describes the life of John Wainright, a homo superior, the next rung on the evolutionary ladder.

The most striking parts of Odd John are those in which John fights against accepted societal ideals and morals, completing the first requirement of the Übermensch. The first such incedent occurs when John begins a crime spree, robbing the houses of the rich, if for no other reason than to prove that he can. During one of these robberies, a police officer, one known personally to John, catches him. In order to escape the discovery of his greater-than-human abilities so early in his life, John is forced to murder the police officer. To keep hidden the existence of the superman, to protect the Übermensch before mankind can eradicate the threat, John sheds one of the most commonly accepted and believed-in social morals, and murders a living human being. To John, such an act, while still not exactly palatable, is not exactly the same as murdering another homo superior. Since John is of another species, one greater than man, he is able to kill a human, the way a human would euthanize a dog: with some regrettable pain, knowing it must still be done, in order to serve a greater end. John does, in fact, quite often describe humanity as canine in some respects: awkward, well-meaning, but still with some spark of intelligence. Some would say killing an animal is wrong under any circumstances, but this idea is not universally accepted, and so this incedent is only used as secondary evidence of John’s taboo-breaking.

The most striking of John’s rule-breaking occurs during a period in his life in which he attempts to conquer the human idea of love. John, through his great powers of learning and observance, determines methods in which to make any human, male or female, find him irresistable. First, this breaks a more slight taboo, one which some may argue is unrealistic to begin with, and is slowly dieing out: John engages in homosexual love. This, in itself, is not as striking as some of his other taboo-shatterings, in today’s world, as homosexual relationships are much more widespreadin the modern age, and will soon be considered completely acceptable by the vast majority of society, if it is not already. What is more disturbing about these actions is that, if one truly accepts that John is of another species, he must then be committing beastiality. In continuation of the previous analogy, John having sexual intercourse with a human being would be akin to a human being having sexual intercourse with a dog. While some would argue the morality of euthanizing an animal, there are very few who would argue the morality of seducing one.

In addition to this, John also beds his mother. To once more continue the previous analogy, this would be similar to a human being romancing the dog that gave birth to it. Clearly, the simile no longer applies, as there is no universal social law for such an act. In spite of this, I don’t think many people would argue that beastiality and incest cancel each other out; this action is, by far, the most shocking and amoral action John commits.

The most mysterious parts of Odd John revolve around the second requirement of the Übermensch, the homo superior’s creations; human beings cannot fully comprehend the greatest works of the supermen, and so it is impossible for the author, a simple homo sapien, to fully describe them.

One of the more simple-to-understand accomplishments of the supermen is the foundation of their own nation. After finding more of his own kind, John establishes a colony on a remote island in the Pacific Ocean, where the homo superior can train their minds, and create their greater spiritual works in peace. One of the most interesting aspects of their new society involves their interpersonal relationships; the members of the community do not make their relationships legally permanent, but they tend to stick together anyway. While the new system is not perfect, as some relationships still end poorly, it seems to have a much higher rate of success than the homo sapien system, which has about a fifty percent rate of failure. Additionally, this is an incredibly complex and unpredictable subject, which is bound always to have some failures. In this manner, the Übermensch re-evaluate old societal morals, keeping the monogomous relationship, but shedding the legal entanglements.

The government of the supermen is also important, as well as profound. Described as communist by the world powers, in this community there is no defined governmental body, and no law enforcement. To make decisions for the community, each member of the colony meets and discusses with the group the best course of action, and the meeting does not conclude until every voice is heard. Eventually, a decision is made, and every member of the colony respects and accepts the decision, because their opinion has been understood and weighed. While a system such as this seems almost perfect, it probably would not work well under the stress of great masses of homo sapien, not only because council meetings would last months until every voice was heard, but because humans are generally not able to set aside their own opinions in respect of the greater good; this government is completely Übermensch.

The impossible-to-understand accomplishment of the supermen involves their great spiritual work. Because humanity cannot hope to understand such a work, the homo sapien auther was unable to convey anything of its substance through the novel, but it is great enough that, in order to complete it, the supermen are willing to die. They realize that the world powers have organized to destroy them, and, rather than spend time completing the technology to defend themselves, the colony completes its great work of religion and commits suicide. The definite magnitude of their great creation is unclear, but it is presumably vast.

The third requirement of the Übermensch is the most simple to relate to Odd John. Once he fully realizes his superiority to humanity, John is struck with a sense of utter loneliness. John can no longer tolerate the presence of humans, their inferiority presenting constant reminders of his singularity, so he ventures into the wilderness, in order to escape mankind, and to overcome this feeling of desolation. As he evades human contact, John struggles with his basic animal traits; learning to hunt and kill a stag, using only his physical powers, he proves his worth as a new being. In defeating the stag, John learns more about himself and mankind than of which he had previously been aware. In describing the action to the narrator, John said, “How I knew him and praised him! And his death was his life’s crown.” The death of the stag had a profound impact on John, and gave him a new perspective on humanity.

John Wainright, as the above examples have clearly shown, is the very definition of the Nietzschean Übermensch. He rebels against societal ideals and morals, as he murders men, sleeps with those of the same gender, and beds his own mother. He re-evaluates old societal ideals and morals, and creates his own, through the existence of the new colony of supermen. In the process of killing the stag, John recognizes and overcomes his own physical weaknesses, as well as the simple, canine greatness of mankind.

This struggle against traditional morality is something the general public finds very upsetting about the Nietzschean concept of the Übermensch; the rebellion against traditional societal codes is seen as destructive to most people. It is of the utmost importance, however, that the Nietzschean Übermensch follow these steps, because morality is an ever-changing, subjective concept; to force everyone to follow the same rules of morality is stifling, and not always is the “morally correct” path the best. To go about this process in a slow, steady manner, while easier for some to accept, is detrimental to the process; massive, sweeping change is often necessary in order to fix the most stubborn problems of human society.