Posted by on 2009-05-12 at 05:24  Guest  Comments Off on inquisitive
May 122009

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Every now and then a scenario is brought to my attention that really gets my gears cranking, mostly hypothetical ones, you understand. This one was pretty fun.

Delusion: purpose?

Suppose someone says “You know, it seems to me that it would just be easier to pick something to believe and go with it. I mean, what’s with all the questioning and evaluating? Really, what’s the point?

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 Posted by on 2009-05-02 at 10:50  Guest  Comments Off on pandumbic
May 022009

from the makers of tuberculosis…

Every now and again, people around me start acting crazy, stupid, or both, and I feel it is my duty to step in and speak out against this nonsense.  Now, keep in mind, while I do not have any particular abundance of knowledge regarding the specific details of this situation, I am quite astute at recognizing patterns, and, therefore, consider myself something of an authority on this matter.

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 Posted by on 2008-10-27 at 16:20  Editorial, Guest  Comments Off on inspiration
Oct 272008

[batteries not included]

I had a really good idea..

Wrapped in a shell that is my own consciousness, an idea formed, giving a certain spark of life to something new. A concept, or envisioned thing, if you will, springs forth from the impenetrable fortress that is my brain.

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 Posted by on 2008-09-26 at 10:48  Editorial, Guest  Comments Off on checkmate
Sep 262008

[from the depths of who really knows where…]

I’d like to relate a story about someone named Luke.

When I went to attend class on Monday, only to find out that the first two of my three classes were cancelled, I found myself sitting outside near the large chess board located near the center of campus. Imagine this thing measuring around fifteen feet on one side, the plastic pieces standing about knee-high. There are always casual players about and at least several spectators engrossed in watching. I’ve taken quite a liking to designating this spot for sitting.

I arrived at school about 30 minutes early, as is typical for me, and headed for that very spot, noticing a game in progress as I approached (also typical). Sitting down, it occurred to me that there was something quite different about this particular game of chess. Not different in that the pieces were upside-down or spray-painted green or anything like that, but still, there was something usual about the present game. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

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 Posted by on 2008-09-05 at 11:29  Editorial, Guest  Comments Off on derivative
Sep 052008

[the incessant babbling of a future mental patient]

I met myself. I must say, I was not impressed.

This was not the me that I know, or think I know. This was another me, one that rears his head when least expected, to plant the seeds of negativity in the minds of those around me, while I am left to deal with the rampant crop of idiocy that blooms soon after. In others, he inspires doubt, disbelief and uncertainty towards me, my integrity, my ideals and my resolve. Through action, through words, he commands a presence of a nature that is the polar opposite of that which I strive to be. Ignorance and apathy are his playthings, lies become his weapons, and cruelty his entertainment. He is contradiction. He is violent anger and withdrawn depression. He exists as my favorite enemy, a nemesis to be sure.

Would it be considered suicide for me to kill this veritable doppelganger?

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 Posted by on 2008-09-01 at 15:36  Editorial, Guest  Comments Off on anon
Sep 012008

[“eccentric and pretentious…”]

At the time of this writing, I know that I don’t necessarily know what it is that I think I know.

At the time of this writing, there are still forces in the universe I do not understand.  Their whims, their almost imperceptible moods continue to influence my environment in ways I cannot comprehend.

At the time of this writing, I await that one person who, by her nature, can bring an extra dimension of meaning to my life, without fear of letting me know when I’m totally full of crap.

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 Posted by on 2008-08-23 at 11:25  Editorial, Guest  1 Response »
Aug 232008

This is a letter to you.  Yes, you, with the slack-jawed look on your face.  You, who are probably, at this very moment, as you read these words, scratching your ass.  This is for you.

This is not the letter, however, but merely a precursor, if you will; a mere message of preparation for the letter which follows.  You will know when the letter begins, I am fairly certain of that.

This will be no ordinary letter, mind you.  Not like the letter from grandma, or the kind you get when your wife leaves you, or a notice of past due amount from your credit card company, or even the officious type of letter you received a couple of weeks ago telling you that you don’t qualify for federal student aid because you totally forgot to sign up for selective service when you were eighteen, even though you swear you remember doing it.  No, this is quite a different kind of letter.  You have never been the recipient of this kind of letter.  I know this because I haven’t written it to you until now.  It is quite possible, in fact, that after I write it, you may still not be such a recipient, even after you’ve recieved the damned thing.  I’m not sure, as I haven’t decided yet.

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