@RAND
I had a thought regarding the Magic 8-Ball, which you have no doubt seen, a fluid filled ball containing a 20 sided die with words on each face, that has provided random answers to untold millions of questions. The thought was this: it would be a great practical joke to create a special die that has an lcd display on one side, that once in a great while will display the message "No, and fuck you for asking."
Actually that last phrase is one that I often would like to use at my job. Various random people will ask me, when I'm unloading soda off the large red vehicle, "can i have a soda" or "can i have a free soda?". Somehow it is funny or something to ask me that. I don't know what answer they expect. But "no, and fuck you for asking" is the answer the question most pointedly deserves. I've also wanted to just ask in reply, "what is the stupidest question that is at all possible to ask someone you see delivering soda? do you ask car dealers for a free car?"
I'd like to be able to carry coupons for free vasectoies. Hand them to people to who pose that question, evidencing that they are stupid enough that offering them the opportunity to opt out of the gene pool at no cost to themselves would be a compassionate gesture both to them and future generations.
The gene pool and my non-legacy therein kind of weighs on my mind lately, being almost forty with no spawn and its not being a strong likelihood that I will ever have any. I have cousins in my generation who have reproduced themselves so at least my DNA will mostly not go extinct even if I never personally shoot anyone full of babies. When I look at it that way it strikes me that "my DNA" is basically an absurd notion; millions of other people have the exact same genes as I do, just in different combinations. My dna is just a bunch of random stuff that I got stuck with. My dna also does not contain a predispositon toward being good at dealing with work, and contians no predispostion toward being good at dealing with people, and as such my genes would be a sorry bequest indeed. I had a terrible time being a son and I think I would be a terrible parent, given how much I hate work and people, and the commitment to dealing with ungodly amounts of both of those things that being a parent entails.
On the other hand one advantage of sexual reproduction is that when you splice 50% of your genes with those another, hopefully you might have an offspring or two who doesn't inherit too much of the portion of your DNA that sucks.
On the third hand human beings are coldly and ferociously competitive creatures and they always try to get the best quality of DNA to splice their own to, and therefore any partner that you are likely to get is likely to have about the same proportion of good DNA to crap DNA that you have, and the people who win the game of getting the best reproductive partners are generally the offspring of other people who won the game of getting the best reproductive partners. To a great extent classism isn't just the protection and hoarding of material wealth within a social class, it is the ferocious guarding of the quality of the gene pool in that social class. It is why, to a great extent, the rich really are better people than the poor, and the cold inexorable truth of why Jacqueline Bouvier always marries Jack Kennedy, and why Roseanne always marries Dan.
____________
I was also thinking that, at least for me, that the only real underlying reason for playing out at open mic night is sex. I can make much better music in my living room, where I can hear myself, and other incomparably better musicians make incomparably better music, performed in public, than I ever could. Going out for the reason of music alone would dictate just listening and not playing, and I often do that, going to places where noone knows that I sometimes pretend like I think I can play the guitar. But sex is an autonomous agenda that does not turn off because its persistence is an inconvenience, and therefore, as I have almost no social ability to speak of, I will occasionally still attempt to do some songs at open mics, a thing which, considered on the basis of my actual abilities, I have no business trying.
I had a bunch more negative stuff to run on about but I'm a little typed out. Blogging is cheaper than seeing a shrink for just having a context in which to talk about shit that's bothering you.
tchuss
@end
I had a thought regarding the Magic 8-Ball, which you have no doubt seen, a fluid filled ball containing a 20 sided die with words on each face, that has provided random answers to untold millions of questions. The thought was this: it would be a great practical joke to create a special die that has an lcd display on one side, that once in a great while will display the message "No, and fuck you for asking."
Actually that last phrase is one that I often would like to use at my job. Various random people will ask me, when I'm unloading soda off the large red vehicle, "can i have a soda" or "can i have a free soda?". Somehow it is funny or something to ask me that. I don't know what answer they expect. But "no, and fuck you for asking" is the answer the question most pointedly deserves. I've also wanted to just ask in reply, "what is the stupidest question that is at all possible to ask someone you see delivering soda? do you ask car dealers for a free car?"
I'd like to be able to carry coupons for free vasectoies. Hand them to people to who pose that question, evidencing that they are stupid enough that offering them the opportunity to opt out of the gene pool at no cost to themselves would be a compassionate gesture both to them and future generations.
The gene pool and my non-legacy therein kind of weighs on my mind lately, being almost forty with no spawn and its not being a strong likelihood that I will ever have any. I have cousins in my generation who have reproduced themselves so at least my DNA will mostly not go extinct even if I never personally shoot anyone full of babies. When I look at it that way it strikes me that "my DNA" is basically an absurd notion; millions of other people have the exact same genes as I do, just in different combinations. My dna is just a bunch of random stuff that I got stuck with. My dna also does not contain a predispositon toward being good at dealing with work, and contians no predispostion toward being good at dealing with people, and as such my genes would be a sorry bequest indeed. I had a terrible time being a son and I think I would be a terrible parent, given how much I hate work and people, and the commitment to dealing with ungodly amounts of both of those things that being a parent entails.
On the other hand one advantage of sexual reproduction is that when you splice 50% of your genes with those another, hopefully you might have an offspring or two who doesn't inherit too much of the portion of your DNA that sucks.
On the third hand human beings are coldly and ferociously competitive creatures and they always try to get the best quality of DNA to splice their own to, and therefore any partner that you are likely to get is likely to have about the same proportion of good DNA to crap DNA that you have, and the people who win the game of getting the best reproductive partners are generally the offspring of other people who won the game of getting the best reproductive partners. To a great extent classism isn't just the protection and hoarding of material wealth within a social class, it is the ferocious guarding of the quality of the gene pool in that social class. It is why, to a great extent, the rich really are better people than the poor, and the cold inexorable truth of why Jacqueline Bouvier always marries Jack Kennedy, and why Roseanne always marries Dan.
____________
I was also thinking that, at least for me, that the only real underlying reason for playing out at open mic night is sex. I can make much better music in my living room, where I can hear myself, and other incomparably better musicians make incomparably better music, performed in public, than I ever could. Going out for the reason of music alone would dictate just listening and not playing, and I often do that, going to places where noone knows that I sometimes pretend like I think I can play the guitar. But sex is an autonomous agenda that does not turn off because its persistence is an inconvenience, and therefore, as I have almost no social ability to speak of, I will occasionally still attempt to do some songs at open mics, a thing which, considered on the basis of my actual abilities, I have no business trying.
I had a bunch more negative stuff to run on about but I'm a little typed out. Blogging is cheaper than seeing a shrink for just having a context in which to talk about shit that's bothering you.
tchuss
@end
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
maslow:
i want to do an open mic night so i can get some tail. maybe write some crappy poetry and seem vulnerable so guys will try to pick me up.
gwenness:
hey--what F's did you shoot the yodabuddha pics on?