We’re so damned lost.

I’ve got some ideas about what I would want to do with this site. None of them are currently feasible tasks. Damn.

So – I’d believe that the main reason for this blog is to gain revenue. Somehow. Eventually. Hopefully. But probably not. This blogging’s not as easy as I thought. In addition, I’m mostly web-illiterate. Whaaaat? But in retrospect, there are also other reasons – possibly odd ones, as to why AngerBRAWG was conceived. 

One reason for starting this blog was to be “hip”, to say in the least. The realm of blogdom has exploded recently, and we’re trying to catch the wave. We’re poor surfers, though, straggling on the edges. Take the Friendster guys, for instance. Total has-beens? Yes. But they got to strut their stuff all over South California, “wrapped up like a douche” in glam-y clothes and snakeskin boots. Consider them the “First wave”, shall we? They’ve already wiped out.

The Second wave consists of people like, for instance, “Tom”, from Myspace. Yes, Myspace is a tad bit antiquated, BUT it’s still living on, unlike Friendster. Their wave is nearly over. Now, the people of the “third wave”… The Facebook guys ride dead-on-center with the Twitter guys, at the highest point of the wave. But others, like Maki of DoshDosh, and the guys at “The Smoking Tire” (Formerly known as “Garage 419″), are at the edges. Not quite as large, but still large enough to have quite a fanbase. 

Now along comes people like us, John Doe/Mike Hunt and Joe Schmoe/Jack Miauf. Poor surfers at best, some better than the others, scrambling over each other in an attempt to reach the top – and by god, I hope we catch this wave.

 

[Intermission : Oh YES, I just finished converting "The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou" into iPhone format. A guide on how to do so coming up later.]

 

I wonder though, how far we’ll make it. Society makes us robots; we aim for mediocrity. It can be compared to walking five minutes to a McDonald’s over taking a 20-minute car drive to Souplantation. In this sea of bloggers, we either fall into order or take a different approach. I guess that “different approach” falls into the category of “Viral stuff”. (Sorry, I couldn’t think of a better term to use other than “Viral Stuff”)

Another reason for blogging: To be discovered. I’m one out of over 6 billion people. The chances? Close to nil. But HEY, I’m still willing to do it. 

Part of the reason why AngerBRAWG hasn’t thrived might be due to the lack of viral material. The twitter user “shitmydadsays” has existed for about a month, and already has 100,000+ followers. I can’t think of anything other than things that anger me. 

 

Oh, right. People don’t give a shit…

DJ AM found dead.

DJ AM/Adam Goldstein was found dead today. 

Well, seeing how it’s a trending topic now and all… *Tags*

More views? I believe so.

A Prayer for Luck

I’m not a man of religion, just to tell you beforehand. We just need a hell lot of luck – and why not leave it up to luck to grant us luck? (God, that was confusing)

Y’know what my luck is like? (And probably Joe’s, also)

The song: “Summer Day” by Coconut Records.

Lyrics? :

If it’s a summer day
With not a cloud in sight
Then tell me why
It feels like it might 
Rain on me
Rain on me

If it’s a summer day
it’s a summer day
With not a cloud in sight
not a cloud in sight
Then tell me why
tell me why
It feels like it might 
feels like it might
Rain on me
Rain on me

Boo ba buh buh buh
Shoo sha shoo sha why
Shoo sha shoo shy why
Krispy koo coo quo
Krispy koo coo quo
Oh mah goshona way
Oh mah goshona way

Rain on me
Rain on me
Rain on me 
Rain on me

If it’s a summer day
With not a cloud in sight
Then tell me why
It feels like it might 
Rain 

 

So say, why the hell does it still rain on me? Taken from the song “If I were a Rich Man”, from the play “Fiddler on the Roof” – (You might reconize it. The song was slaughtered as a mainstream remake called “Rich Girl”)

Lord who made the lion and the lamb,
You decreed I should be what I am.
Would it spoil some vast eternal plan?!
If I were a wealthy man.

What the hell, man. Be a homey! “You know how the Dogg roll..” Would it really spoil some vast eternal plan to toss some luck my way? Now, I understand that this is truly an unreasonable demand, but I’m human, and I’m greedy. Perseverance alone cannot help my endeavors succeed. I need some luck, bro! I know only what I have. Now gime more. Here’s my prayer:

Now I cast aside desires to cede,
I pray the Lord to sate my greed;
Should I die before I prevail,
I pray the Lord my body and soul to hale.

I know, blasphemy, right? 

 

I’m beginning to quote more and write less. 

I’m lazy.

DISNEY HAS GONE TOO FAR!!!!

DISNEY HAS DECIDED TO MAKE A REMAKE OF THE BEATLES 1968 FILM “YELLOW SUBMARINE”.

Yes, Disney is planning on having director of the famous “Back to the Future” movies, Robert Zemeckis, direct a remake of  “Yellow Submarine”. Paul McCartney has agreed to this and will oversee it so I’ve heard.  But they are going to remake all of the songs. AND DISNEY DOESN’T PRODUCE QUALITY MUSIC!!!! The Jonas Brothers and Hannah Montana have proven that…..

So, I’m pretty worried about this. I’m pretty against this actually. They shouldn’t touch the classics. AT ALL. I’m pretty disappointed in Sir Paul for this. I love The Beatles. This is an outrage……especially because they’re also thinking of turning it into a stage musical.

They say the film will be ready in 2012. It would be earlier , but they don’t want to interfere with the 2012 London Summer Olympics. Hopefully they’ll change their minds and not release this film. If only John and George were here…. I have a feeling things wouldn’t have gotten this bad if they were still around……

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Why….? Why are they ruining everything….?

Karl Marx – Is he a #@*&ing prophet?

Within the span of the previous year, a few Karl Marx quotes have made their way across the webternet. The quotes uncannily render an image of our current economic situation – which begs the question : Are these quotes authentic, or fabricated? 

“Owners of capital will stimulate the working class to buy more and more of their expensive goods, houses and technology, pushing them to take more and more expensive credit, until their debt becomes unbearable.

The unpaid debt will lead to bankruptcy of banks, which will have to be nationalised, and the State will have to take the road which will eventually lead to communism.” – Karl Marx, Das Kapital, 1867

 

Megan McArdie, from The Atlantic, says:

“It’s been fifteen years since I read Das Kapital, and I’m not sure how much I retained even when I was young and hale. But it immediately set off my fake alarms. First, because it doesn’t sound remotely like anything I remember Marx saying — his core thesis was that falling wages would immiserate the working class, not that they’d be done in by their overdrafts. Second, because I do remember Marx spending huge chunks of Das Kapital grousing about the inadequacy of the housing supply for the working class, in very tedious detail. [...] And third, because no one in 1870 imagined the working class having access to bank credit. [...]

And indeed, searching all three volumes [of Das Kapital] for “houses” and “homes”, which are a pretty straight one-to-one translation, yields nothing that sounds remotely like this.”

That sounds pretty solid to me. Also – “Lucidity” from www.DemocracyforUtah.com says:

“Commenters also point out that the term technology was just coming into use and referred to the “industrial arts,” not consumer goods.”

So, even if the Marx quote is faux, it helps to scare people. A bit of a stretch, really, but who am I to predict the future?

 

Moving on to our 2nd point of the day, and quite an old one – Nostradamus and his predictions. Honestly, these are even easier to discern as fakes. I mean, first of all – The guy’s so damn vague his “predictions” could be applied to numerous things. Take, for example, a “prediction” of 9/11:

Nostradamus

Century 6, Quatrain 97

Two steel birds will fall from the sky on the Metropolis. The sky will burn at forty-five degrees latitude. Fire approaches the great new city (New York City lies between 40-45 degrees)

Immediately a huge, scattered flame leaps up. Within months, rivers will flow with blood. The undead will roam earth for little time.

Undead? I highly doubt that. Really, now?

Really?

 

LMS – Regulation #5: I Smell a Scandal.. and Cheap Perfume

A storm was approaching Southern California. Specifically, the remnants of a Baja California Hurricane. TV stations went bonkers, blaring reports every half hour. The atmosphere was electric – and it energized me. My parents actually called me, screaming at me in a mixture of incomprehensible engsian (1) through the phone. “ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT. JUST LISTEN TO THIS!” I hollered, holding the phone up to the TV speakers. The NBC4 news was on.

Elita Loresca: “… so all you folks rest assured, because we’ll only be experiencing heavy rainfall, with slight winds – nothing like what Florida’s been getting…”

“Did’ya hear that, mom?” I said, before hanging up.

Of course she didn’t hear that. She was still screaming when I hung up.

 

I moved back to my kitchen stool, guitar-in-hand. Softly, unplugged on an electric guitar, I played out the melody to “Blackbird” by the Beatles. The music permeated through the room… emanating out into the grey world. 

- – - – - – - – - – - – - - 

It’s days like these that make me feel energized. I decided to take a walk, donned in an orange poncho. 

Slight wind swept across campus, bringing sweeping waves of misty rain. For the first time, in a LONG long time, the sprawling campus was empty. Most students and teachers were shacked up indoors, failing to appreciate the outstanding weather. 

A freshman came running across the grass with his Great Dane alongside. 

“HEY, WHAT’S YOUR NAME?” I shouted at him.

“NORVILLE!”, he replied. I pointed the way towards the dormitories, and told him to hurry up. “What are you doing out here, then?!” he asked.

“I’M SOLVING A MYSTERY!!” I yelled. Norville nodded knowingly, and scrambled comically towards the dormitories, his feet slipping on the muddy grass. I plodded on ahead towards the “Table”, disappearing into the mist.

- – - – - – - – - – - – -

My trusty poncho had served me well. I was relatively dry when I reached the “Table”. Someone – rather, Lennon, was sitting there. I tipped my head in greetings, and sat down on the table – partly because the chairs were wet, and partly because I preferred sitting like this. The rain swept gustily to greet us. 

There we sat – comedy gold. A tall asian in an orange poncho and a short white kid  sipping ice-cold colas in a rainstorm. Soon enough, I began to feel cold. The wind grew stronger, and the rain came down in big, fat droplets that could take your eye out. 

“Ayup. I guess I’d best be going now” I yelled over the wind. Lennon nodded, unfolded his umbrella, and strode away. Learning from him, I decided to take the table’s umbrella with me to shield me from rain.

It was massive – 5 and a half feet in diameter. I hoisted it over my right shoulder, effectively shielding me from the rain. My plan didn’t work out quite as well as I thought it would, though. A pause between gusts knocked the umbrella off balance, and before I knew it – the wind had picked up the umbrella in its grasps, with me holding on for dear life. I was tossed about in midair for a few seconds, before I saw a rapidly approaching building. I closed my eyes, and held on for dear life.

 

And ah- What luck! The wind directed me straight through a window, into an empty office.

Or at least I thought it was empty.

 

The headmaster stood in the shadows, holding a woman in his arms. The woman was skimpily dressed, but judging from the amount of fat and loose skin around her neck and arms, I’d say she was in her mid-fourties. And then I caught a whiff of her perfume. A gust of wind just to happened to direct a sample of her scent flying towards my face.

Oh, god. I was inundated by an explosion of cheap perfume inside my nose. It smelled metallic, sticky, and smoky – She smelled like a robot. 

Huckerhorn pushed her behind him, and reared on me. He lunged forward, right arm swinging wide for a hook – and I stepped in towards him, directing my palm into his chest. I stepped back, horrified, and scrambled the hell out of there.

 

Then I stopped, turned back – retrieved my umbrella- and then proceeded to run away.

 

(1) Engsian = A mixture of english and an Asian language of your choice. Like Spanglish.

 

I’m Shocked.

I’m shocked… at the amount of depth and complexity the human subconscious holds. Right now, as I am perched on my toilet early in the morning typing this, I can’t help but feel awed. 

 

See, I JUST woke up from a dream. That, in itself, is a complexity. Why do we dream? How? What the hell are they, really? Are they representational of our wants and desires? Do they predict the future? 

All in all… that stuff confuses the hell out of me.

I just had a dream. A hodgepodge amalgamation of robots, artificially created life, and dark, reflective glass. This time, it was different though. I’m almost POSITIVE that I viewed some parts of the dream through a 3rd person POV. Previously, all my dreams were in a First-person POV. 

I’ve had a couple of “prophetic” dreams. I “quote-unquoted” that because, in retrospect, I knew what was going to happen, I just didn’t want to admit it – and my dreams did it for me.

Some people dream in black and white, others in color. Mine focus around one central color. It’s rather entertaining, actually, if I can still remember the dream. I’ve heard that you can’t actually DIE in a dream. For instance, if you’re ABOUT to die in a dream, you wake up before it happens.

Well, I’d never let myself die in one of my dreams, yo.

 

Feel free to tell us what YOUR dreams are like.

NO, APPLE. NO!!!

You say tablet? NOOO!

How sturdy must you make this thing? It’ll probably end up super-heavy, and priced to match. You say 500$?

Computing power will be far, far below par. It’s not a “notebook” you’re making.. it’s just an iPhone on steroids.

Sure, I use a Mac, but it’s a proper Mac that’ll last ages when STOCK. I can bet that your new tablet will be just a massive scratch-magnet.

Yeah, I’ll bet with you, Steve Jobs. You’ve angered the AngerBRAWG.

 

 

This is what people think it should look like. I wonder if it could be used as a shield/weapon? The metal on first-gen Ipod Touches was pretty hard..

 

 

 

…

 

So I’ve conferred with speculation, and speculation says that the Apple Tablet will be priced around $500. 

Honestly, there’s ONE redeeming factor the tablet might hold – The ability to use it as a computer/Wacom tablet. But – OH NO!!! My palm dancing around on the glossy screen would require a cloth to be on-hand at all times. Whaaat? 

Honestly though, Apple really needs to make a kickass drawing system for their “tablet”. Maybe then I’ll hook up an external HD and lug that around in order to preserve the lack of computing power that is the Apple “Tablet”

 

 

The AngerBRAWG is still angered, Jobs, and we’re on for that bet. Your streak of hit-and-wins is bound to run out soon, yo. 

On a lighter note, visit this website - It’s a much happier place.

 

- Oh, can’t forget to tag : www.blogsurfer.us

LMS – Regulation #4: Fishing is a Man’s Soul (Harry Potter does it, why can’t I?)

A heavy wooden door slammed closed.

I was “helped” into a chair by two men with no eyebrows and short brown hair. “You may leave”, an old man with frizzy, silver hair said to the guards.

 

The headmaster gave me a solemn look across his grand, oaken table. “Do you know why you are here, Jack?”

“I could guess, yeah” I replied. – “It confuses me though. Rex is of no significance. All he does is hang around the dance studio, and harass girls. Why should I be castigated for disciplining him?”

“That is of none of your concern”.

 

The headmaster and I exchanged glares for a few seconds.

“Say, why do you have such a big desk?” I asked. ”I’m a busy man”, he replied.

“Your name’s Huckerhorn. Nobody would take you seriously.” I retorted. ”Might you be ‘overcompensating’ for something else with that desk of yours?”

I leaped off my chair as if electrified. An uncannily sharp dagger-shaped letter opener flew at me. “Sir!” I cried. “You’re not setting a good example!”

 

Vases, books, paperweights, and jars of paper clips chased after me as I fled the headmaster’s office.

 

- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -

 

Soon after my run-in with our headmaster, my Regulation license was suspended for two weeks. During that time, I found numerous other things to do. I wrote, I read, I drew, I played music, I listened to music, and I movie-hopped for days, amongst other things. Most importantly, I grew ever more and more lost. Work, along with my tendency to analyze, are my two sole constants. One cannot exist peacefully without the other. If I should work too hard, and forget to analyze, then I would fall into a pit of monotony, utterly unaware of my situation. Should I lose my “work”, I would analyze far too much and fall into a pit of confusion and depression. 

Upon the second to last day of my suspension, I discovered a set of fishing tackle formerly owned by my grandfather. Fishing probably couldn’t be THAT hard… I figured. I spent the rest of the night digging around for worms, in preparation for tomorrow morning. 

- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - -

 

This morning started to the tune of Black Rebel Motorcycle Club.

I had my fishing tackle, my headphones, my iPod, and a dorky hat. There didn’t seem to be any need for me to change my attire. Hell, I felt as if I could go to war wearing the same clothes I usually wear. Harry Potter does it, why can’t I?

The on-campus lake was regularly stocked with fish, and featured numerous fishing spots along with loaner boats. The lake was about half a mile wide, and 3/4 of a mile long. A light drizzle dampened the mood of the morning. I sat alone in a small boat, a lone figure in an orange poncho adorning the center of a gray world. A mist slowly began to set in. It rolled in inconspicuously. Before I realized, it had tightly clenched me within it’s grasp. I relished in this atmosphere, absorbing the mood.

Sitting here, alone in this small boat leaves oneself with an excess of time at hand. I did not contemplate, though. I did not analyze, I didn’t ponder, nor did I peruse through the archives of my mind. The atmosphere percolated through me, refreshing and renewing. There was no need for me to search for an answer – understanding came to me. 

And with that epiphany came a light tug on my line. I quickly reeled in my line, raising my rod above my right ear in an attempt to hurry up the process. A silvery flash caught my eye, making feeble splashes in the water.

I raised my catch to eye level, watching a small, small fish wriggle about. It was scarcely larger than my index finger, in both girth and length. His gills dilated and contracted, it’s feeble body yearning for fresh water.

Smiling to myself, I carefully freed the fish. 

That would be all for today.

 

 

- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - -

 

Hidden by the fog, a figure bent over the dock. He looked into the depths of the water as a small silver fish flashed by beneath him. Wild black hair peeked out from beneath his fisherman’s hat. This was truly, a man in his natural element. 

School’s Almost Here.

Ohhhh goddamn. With school comes work. Loads of work for me – I’m a Junior.

A commentor posted a link about a week ago, in response to my “Creativity DIES” post. The link led to a site called “TED.com” – a site featuring intellectual speeches given by many famous people. This particular speech was given by Sir Ken Robinson, a man known for his advocacy of creativity. 

I hope that as we all start the school year, we keep in mind Mr.Robinson’s words, and strive to infuse all that we do with some form of our own creativity. Let’s try out best not to fall into the trap of mediocrity.

 

 

PS:

Joe, git. Write more, because I probably won’t be able to. Maplestory’s a big NO, also…

BTW, shoutout to www.condron.us