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Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Eating a form of submission?
I walked past some squash members (I work at a squash court) today with some honey garlic wings. This is normal in every way except that i wanted to hide the fact that i had food. Is this because its impolite to eat food while working? because you might find yourself in the inopportune moment where you must attend a customer while succulent chicken drips from your mouth? IS IT JUST THIS? i think not. think about any time you eat food. friends/family doesent count. picture a first date. think about how much care is taken into every bite. picture a work lunch. when talked to with your mouth full, dont you feel embarrassed that you have food in your mouth... FOOD! well i say fuck social norms. fuck nurture. im going to eat where ever and when ever i want.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Would you Rather (2)
If you had an office job
Would you rather work on the main floor of the building of on the top floor, which happens to be floor 78?
Would you rather work on the main floor of the building of on the top floor, which happens to be floor 78?
Labels:
thoughts
Monday, November 2, 2009
Dear Poetry Gods -- Brody the Writter
In my organized community, there has entered a women. She is a poet and knows it. People pay her for her poetriess forming of words. I being the curious cat am interested. How hard is it to write a good poem. The answer: quite.
I am by no means a poet in any fathomable way. I am a writter of words; however, by this I feel I should at least attempt to construct a poem.
I leave for you "The Poem of Someone Telling Me About You, And Me Telling You What They Said":
Someone told me
That you lived your life on the edge of a knife
Like the cats screaming at the dogs between them
Not a concern or a cry
to give
to anyone
to ever live
Your a soul bleeder with his hat on the rack
A life taker taken the shirt off my back
A misinforming informant with your news come a storming
Wearing down your nails just trying to bore us
Bad news don't break you
But good news don't make you
It's a common misconception that feeds your infection
A common person searching for ressurection
And you've got it all,
and your all is their nothing at all
A warm blanket to soak up the water
pebbles and rocks to drag you down
to the bottom of the paragprah
the bottom of your head
to rest a little longer
to the bottom of your raspberry fruit stand
Plumes and plods to connect the dots
Of flying tree rabbits under swirling banana clouds
Filled with sweat ice creamy treats
Filled with hard hitting hammers and straight striking bows
And arrows to strike straight the apples among monkeys tĂȘtes
pillow lungs and ringy dungs, with bleeps and bloops among you
Wippy dipp do goes the marching sight of steel swords and knights
I am by no means a poet in any fathomable way. I am a writter of words; however, by this I feel I should at least attempt to construct a poem.
I leave for you "The Poem of Someone Telling Me About You, And Me Telling You What They Said":
Someone told me
That you lived your life on the edge of a knife
Like the cats screaming at the dogs between them
Not a concern or a cry
to give
to anyone
to ever live
Your a soul bleeder with his hat on the rack
A life taker taken the shirt off my back
A misinforming informant with your news come a storming
Wearing down your nails just trying to bore us
Bad news don't break you
But good news don't make you
It's a common misconception that feeds your infection
A common person searching for ressurection
And you've got it all,
and your all is their nothing at all
A warm blanket to soak up the water
pebbles and rocks to drag you down
to the bottom of the paragprah
the bottom of your head
to rest a little longer
to the bottom of your raspberry fruit stand
Plumes and plods to connect the dots
Of flying tree rabbits under swirling banana clouds
Filled with sweat ice creamy treats
Filled with hard hitting hammers and straight striking bows
And arrows to strike straight the apples among monkeys tĂȘtes
pillow lungs and ringy dungs, with bleeps and bloops among you
Wippy dipp do goes the marching sight of steel swords and knights
Labels:
Poem
Sunday, October 18, 2009
The Lonely Butterfly Hunter
As if the flowers weren't flickering between the flaps of butterfly wings. As if there wasn't time to document the colour pattern. The lonely butterfly hunter removed his rusted white butterfly net in twitching eagerness to catch some ignorant little butterflies. Butterflies.
(Swoosh!)
One swipe of the net and one disappointing miss.
Pathetic butterfly hunter.
(Swoosh!) Pathetic.
(Swoosh!)
Butterfly hunting is difficult and it doesn't help that the butterflies are ignorant.
(Swoosh!)
Yes. The Butterfly hunter all at once stoled three little butterflies from the freedom of their Butter Flight. Three Pathetic Butterflies.
ButterFly hunting is difficult and it helps to use a large lightweight butterfly net.
The butterfly hunter took his butterflies home. He put them in his mixing drum and stirred them into a pulp. It was only natural that he put two slices of bread in the toaster. Then he spread the fly butter on the toast and topped it off with raspberry freezer jam. The spoils of a successful lonely butterfly hunter.
(Swoosh!)
One swipe of the net and one disappointing miss.
Pathetic butterfly hunter.
(Swoosh!) Pathetic.
(Swoosh!)
Butterfly hunting is difficult and it doesn't help that the butterflies are ignorant.
(Swoosh!)
Yes. The Butterfly hunter all at once stoled three little butterflies from the freedom of their Butter Flight. Three Pathetic Butterflies.
ButterFly hunting is difficult and it helps to use a large lightweight butterfly net.
The butterfly hunter took his butterflies home. He put them in his mixing drum and stirred them into a pulp. It was only natural that he put two slices of bread in the toaster. Then he spread the fly butter on the toast and topped it off with raspberry freezer jam. The spoils of a successful lonely butterfly hunter.
Monday, October 5, 2009
Ok this is a little Bizarre -- Bizarro Brody

Zebras are forming industrialized communities without filling out the proper permits first. They've already started building factories on lands that aren't yet authorized for land development.
An investigation into the ongoing breach of bureaucratic mechanisms led to the discovery that zebras avoided filling out the permits, because they are not high functioning mammals, but rather primitive grazers. Also it appears the factories they are allegedly building consist of only a few small branches a young zebra pushed into a pile.
Whatever the cases be with the situation, the permit filling laws were broken and the consequences must be laid out. All zebras well have to be killed.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
recruiting
This is a call out to all members and non-members that we are having a limited time recruiting offer for the fall! comment here if you are interested in sharing what you think is interesting with the rest of the world! so far tyler is political, jon is scientific, brody is fantasy/bizzare and i am all over the place (random). YOU could be the new part of this blog!
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Do you feel alive? -- Brody the Writter
Do you feel alive?
When someone shouts your name, does it shake your skeletal girders?
Do you sit still and let the world pass through your eyes like the wind passes through your ears, or do you take stance in awkward attempts to humor its approach. Do you eat sandwiches only because you like the word sandwich, not because delicious chicken and tomato passionately greet it's breaded neighbors before dancing erotically on your nervous tongue; a tongue that lacks merit in its function, useless in the dark dungeon you restrict it to, like some sort of twisted speechless dictator.
12:04 eh em, cough.
whistle.
When someone shouts your name, does it shake your skeletal girders?
Do you sit still and let the world pass through your eyes like the wind passes through your ears, or do you take stance in awkward attempts to humor its approach. Do you eat sandwiches only because you like the word sandwich, not because delicious chicken and tomato passionately greet it's breaded neighbors before dancing erotically on your nervous tongue; a tongue that lacks merit in its function, useless in the dark dungeon you restrict it to, like some sort of twisted speechless dictator.
12:04 eh em, cough.
whistle.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Night At the Movies - Ryan
Today we are are going to do a movie review of Schindler's list, which coincides with my Film in History class. For those of you who dont know, Schindler's list is a a Spielberg film on the Holocaust, with the protagonist as a German business man who saves some of the Jews from Auschwitz. The film has been criticized though, for its empathy towards the German people not knowing or being benevolent towards the holocaust , which can be considered Intentionalist because the blame is cast on the Nazi elite. The reality however, is that the German people were apathetic or supportive to the gradually segregation and extermination of the Jews. Question is, does Shindler's list accurately portray the holocaust?
Labels:
thoughts
Sunday, May 10, 2009
The Great Escape! - by Jon
Cool story.
An Orangutan escaped from her confinement in an Adelaide zoo by first short circuiting an electric fence and then using a makeshift latter to climb out of her pen.
The intelligence of this Orangutan goes without saying. However, I think it raises an important ethical question as to whether or not it is aceptable to confine a creature capable of comprehending its own imprisonment?
An Orangutan escaped from her confinement in an Adelaide zoo by first short circuiting an electric fence and then using a makeshift latter to climb out of her pen.
The intelligence of this Orangutan goes without saying. However, I think it raises an important ethical question as to whether or not it is aceptable to confine a creature capable of comprehending its own imprisonment?
Labels:
Interesting
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