Showing posts with label twilight. Show all posts
Showing posts with label twilight. Show all posts

Friday, April 4, 2014

Random Pic(k)s (19 photos)

I know I haven't updated the site recently, and I totally was going to write something new this week, but then I thought, eh.  I'll write something new next week.  In the meantime, enjoy these Random Pic(k)s.





















































































































JrX

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Friday, January 11, 2013

Strange Faces: Part 5


(read part one here, part two here, part three here and part four here.)


“Quickly, Sancho!” I cried. “We need a young priest and an old priest!”

Twisting the cap off of the bottle of soda, I began to chant “The Power of Christ compels you, the power of Christ compels you!” as I splashed the window with Holy Dew.

I looked back at Sancho, still seated on the couch, now on his phone.  “Dude”, he started, “I don’t know what the fuck is happening, but this is going on YouTube tonight.”

“The power of Chri-“

“Enough!”

My reflection cut me off in mid chant.

Not knowing what else to do, and running low on soda, I sat down next to Sancho on the couch.

“Alright,” I said.  “What do you want from me?”

“What any caged animal wants” he replied. “Freedom. A life beyond the mirror.  An escape from the servitude of reflection.”

I said, “Freedom? No problem”. I waved my arms expansively and said, “You’re free.”

“Done and done” added Sancho. “I know a guy who can get you a fake ID; we’ll get you a job at the mall, maybe at that pretzel place.  You can get us ten percent off. Your name will be Scooter.”

Mmmmm. Pretzels.


“Who do you know that can get fake IDs?” I asked.

“Just…this guy, alright” he replied. “Look, don’t call me on this shit, okay? I'm just spit-balling here.”

“Silence!” shouted my doppelgänger.

“I want more than just a life. I want what you've never used, what you've never wanted”

“My copy of Twilight that Sancho gave me?” Under his breath, I heard my friend say “go fuck yourself”.

Your life” said Scooter, the doppelgänger.

I gulped hard.  “What are you talking about?”

“You walk through this world like a ghost” he said.  “You have no purpose, no motivation, and no goals.  You live your life at a bare minimum.  You have the skill and talent to do so much more and yet you refuse.  You play at being confident and self-assured, successfully hiding the fact that you feel worthless and alone in the world.  Your apathy has caused you to push away anyone who might have got close to you over the years.  There are many who would be your friend if you let them, but you choose only one, Sancho, and only because he’s been around more or less consistently for over twenty years.”

“You think you’re laying some grand truth on me?” I said, trying not to appear shaken.  “I know what I am and I know what I’m capable of.  And my apathy means I don’t give a shit what you think.  Besides, if I’m as pathetic as you say, what does that make you?”

“Lucky” he said.  “It’s your lack of belief in yourself that allowed me to be born.  It’s making me stronger even now.”

Indeed, as he spoke, the translucent reflection was becoming sharper, more defined.  I felt a wave of nausea and my vision became blurred.

“I may not be using much of my life right now” I said, my words beginning to slur. “But I’ll be goddamned if I'm going to let you have it!”

“What’s happening?” I heard Sancho ask weakly.  I turned towards him in time to see him vomit on my laptop.

Will the Geek Squad take care of that? I thought.

Geek Squad. For $30 they'll turn on your computer.

“He coming through again,” I managed to say as I moved drunkenly to pick up my laptop.  Vertigo was slowing overcoming my motor functions.  Through blurred vision, I could see that his hand had already made it across the windows barrier. 

Summoning what strength I could, I flung the laptop at the window, screaming, “An Apple a day keeps the doctor away, bitch!”

The window shattered into a dozen pieces, a hollow scream from Scooter as his image was destroyed; the laptop landed with a crash in the bushes outside. 

“That quip made no sense” said Sancho.  “That wasn't even a Mac.  It was Compaq.”

“Whatever” I said. I wasn't listening.  On the floor beneath the window was Scooters hand, flecks of vomit dotting the appendage; the only piece of him that came through before I broke the window.

Turning back to Sancho, I said “We’re gonna need a bigger boat.”


To Be Continued...


JrX

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Friday, December 21, 2012

I Don't Like the NRA


Ok, I might lose some of you here, but fuck it.  As a general rule, I tend not to engage in the kind of polarizing political arguments that so enflame a certain type of person.  Be it abortion, or prayer in school or whether or not Daryl should die when The Walking Dead returns in February.  But occasionally some nutjob will get himself on TV and say something so stupid in response to something so serious that it just pisses me off.  In this case, it is the NRA Executive Vice President Wayne LaPierre, giving a press conference (speech) in response to the tragedy at Newtown. 
Here is from his prepared remarks:

“The only way to answer that question is to face up to the truth.
Politicians pass laws for Gun-Free School Zones. They issue press
releases bragging about them. They post signs advertising them.
And in so doing, they tell every insane killer in America that schools
are their safest place to inflict maximum mayhem with minimum risk.”

Fuck you, Wayne LaPierre.

…”We care about our money, so we protect our banks with
armed guards. American airports, office buildings, power plants,
courthouses — even sports stadiums — are all protected by armed
security….Yet when it comes to the most beloved, innocent and vulnerable
members of the American family — our children — we as a society
leave them utterly defenseless, and the monsters and predators of this
world know it and exploit it.”

Because there weren’t 1,092 robberies, burglaries, and larcenies commited at banks in just the first quarter of 2011, of which over nearly half were committed by firearm, explosive or other dangerous weopon.  And because nearly a dozen people weren’t killed at the Empire State building  earlier this year; or at an office building in Minneapolis also this year, among others.  I could give more examples, but go ahead and google them yourself if you want to be depressed.

“And does anybody
really believe that the next Adam Lanza isn't planning his attack on a
school he's already identified at this very moment?”

Keep on spreading fear, Wayne.  Did I tell you to go fuck yourself yet?

”So now, due to a declining willingness to prosecute dangerous
criminals, violent crime is increasing again for the first time in
19 years!”

Not true, but why start telling the truth now, LaDouche?

”And here's another dirty little truth that the media try their best to
conceal: There exists in this country a callous, corrupt and corrupting
shadow industry that sells, and sows, violence against its own people.
Through vicious, violent video games with names like Bulletstorm,
Grand Theft Auto, Mortal Kombat and Splatterhouse. And here’s one:
it’s called Kindergarten Killers. It’s been online for 10 years. How come
my research department could find it and all of yours either couldn’t or
didn’t want anyone to know you had found it?”

All right, I’m not gonna defend Kindergarten Killers.  That games is pretty messed up.  But no one plays that game and goes on a shooting rampage who wasn’t already a ticking time bomb anyway.  That’s the REAL dirty little truth.  People like LaDickhead want you to believe that we read something, or play something, or watch something and because of that we’re going to act out some sick fantasy.  They banned Catcher in the Rye for years because some asshole tried to kill Reagan.  Well, Twilight has been out for years, and Stephanie Meyer is still alive, so explain that one. (No, I’m not advocating the murder of Stephanie Meyer.  Although a good scolding might be in order.  And a writers class).   And if violent video games and movies were really to blame, then Japan would be known for roving bands of killers instead of tenacle porn.  Have you seen some of the fucked up shit coming out of Japan?  Eli Roth thinks he’s a badass, but he’s a choir boy compared to violence exhibited in some of their movies.  And their rate of death by gun is less than 500 a year and going down.  We average about ten thousand.

“…Then there’s the blood-soaked slasher films like "American Psycho"
and "Natural Born Killers" that are aired like propaganda loops on
"Splatterdays" and every day, and a thousand music videos that
portray life as a joke and murder as a way of life. And then they have
the nerve to call it "entertainment….A child growing up in America witnesses 16,000 murders and 200,000
acts of violence by the time he or she reaches the ripe old age of 18."

One of the best arguments for violent entertainment=violent actions, is the supposed correlation between the two.  And indeed, it seems that there is one.  However, anyone who actually went to school would know that correlation does not equal causation.  Hell, I can make some correlations right now:  in the years that the Twilight series has been available, I have been increasingly depressed over the decline in American literature.  Correlation?   Yes.  Causation?  Not so much.


You know what?  I can’t keep quoting this whack job.  I’ll summarize the rest.  In a nutshell, he wants to put armed security in every school in America.  He and people like him would like to see everyone with a gun.  Teachers in schools, the principal, even the janitors, all armed to the teeth with the kind of guns that turn elk into a fine red mist.  Because if everyone has a gun, no one will use them.  Or something.  I usually lose the thread of the argument here. 

Look, I’m not anti gun.  I’m all for the second amendment.  I think amendments are great.  We’ve got like, ten of them right?  All I’m saying is that more guns is not the answer.  And that if guns don’t kill people, people kill people, then violent entertainment doesn’t cause violence, violent people do.  It wasn’t that long ago in our nations history that everyone did have a gun.  But you don’t see Black Bart calling out the Sheriff in front of the old saloon anymore.  You know why?  Gun laws. 

You want a personal handgun? Ok, fine.  You want to go hunting?  No problem.  But don’t tell me you’re gonna do it with the kind of guns that Rambo uses, unless the deer have suddenly started to fire back.  And if that starts happening, I'll load up with you.

Fuck you again, LaPierre.

JrX
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Thursday, November 22, 2012

The Story of Thanksgiving (sort of)


So its thanksgiving again, that special time of year when family gets together to give thanks for, I don't know, football?  Mostly it’s a time to get angry at each other for real or imagined slights from years gone by, and maybe, if you're lucky, see a fully cooked turkey get thrown out the window, flying as gracefully as it never could in life.  Afterwards, pizza.  Ah, memories.

This is going right out the window.

Anyway, since I haven't updated the site in a while, I thought I would give you a special treat: the story of the first thanksgiving.

So it turns out that a few hundred years ago, let’s say, I don’t know, the 1600’s (I don’t do a lot of research  that doesn’t involve Charlie Brown being a sad sack, and Linus being insufferable), a small ship called the Mayflower 3D-Breaking Dawn, set sail from England with a small group of pilgrims, armed only with a pocket full of dreams and buckles for every article of clothing they could think of.  They had decided to leave the tyranny of England for a more tolerant land, where no one would tell them they couldn’t dance if they wanted to.  Nobody puts baby in a corner. 

This has nothing to do with Thanksgiving.

After months of dangerous sailing, they finally arrived in the New World, minus most of their teeth and probably smelling a little ripe.  Man, it must have really stunk back then.  Can you imagine?  Months alone on a ship with a bunch of smelly puritans?  Not the smell I usually associate with freedom, but you can’t argue with results I guess.  Landing at Plymouth Rock TM(all rights reserved), the newly arrived settlers quickly realized that they should have spent less time on funny hats and more time not being dead of disease and famine.  Common rookie mistake.  Luckily for them, however, they were met by a kindly Indian (the casino kind, not the red dot on the forehead kind) named Squanto.  In another stroke of good luck, Squanto spoke English, because that was what the script called for.  Turns out he had been sold into slavery a few years before by an unscrupulous sea captain, but he didn’t hold a grudge, so that’s ok.  Anyway, seeing as how the pilgrims couldn’t make water from ice and that they were starving, Squanto showed them how to farm and cultivate land and just generally not be dead. 

Sqanto, pre-twilight

The pilgrims were so grateful, they decided to have a great feast after their first successful harvest before slaughtering most of the natives and stealing their lands, leaving the rest with a few colorful beads and casinos.  And that’s the story of the first thanksgiving.

You’re welcome.

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Happy Thanksgiving!
JrX