Main | March 2005 Ľ

February 8, 2005

Fishing for the truth

FindingNemo2.jpg I recall from reading a book on the scientific theory of the Omega point that the author suggested that the human brain has the capacity to record aprox. 10,000 years worth of memories, provided that an individual could survive that long. Honestly I wouldn't volunteer for the job. I've always said that I would prefer to make that oneway six foot journey as soon as I had enetered my cathider days....perhaps that's why they call them the 'golden years'. Anyway, this got me thinking: If my brain can encode a capacity this volumenous, why am I having difficulties memorizing my zoology terms? Could our text book have covered 10,000 years worth of information in only the first 4 chapters? Or am I seriously to believe that the book was mistaken. That a scientist with a PhD, in something quite impressive im sure, got it wrong claiming that computers will eventually make copies of the human personality that will endure until the collapse of the universe, effectively carrying a binary encoded copy of every person into the afterlife? Anyway, I guess zoology is interesting enough. Apparently, Disney is filling children with equally poposterous ideas. Finding Nemo, it turns out is filled with lies and deceit. Michael Eisner would have you believe that the story goes as follows: Merlyn, a clownfish, lives happily in a coral reef with his wife. The perfect aquatic family ideal, a happily married couple with 2,000 fertilized buns in the oven, or perhaps eggs in the anemonie for accuracy's sake. However, tragedy strikes when the mother is devoured by a heartless baracuda. Now, everything in the story is plausable to this point. However, it is beyond this point that disney producers, probably high from snorting tinkerbelle's pixie dust, maliciously diverge from the truth. Nemo is born to his widower father. We are to believe that this is the final fate of the family unite, a father fish and a son fish. This couldn't be further from the truth. Nature has a more debaucherous tendency, reminicent of the old testament. Marlyn, as a clown fish, upon finding his wife dead with only one remaining egg would have switched his sex. Once he had, bluntly speaking, twisted his little fish penis into a fish vagina, he would wait for his precious nemo to immerge from the membrane of the egg so that the two could have hot fish intercourse. That's are not god fearing, which liberates them to have sex with who ever they want, even if that includes family members. They don't feel limited by their sex either and thus avoid harmful gender prescriptions which plague the human world by being ambisexual. Loooks like we have two new prospective members of Nambla.

Posted by droz0008 at 12:39 AM

February 6, 2005

Dead Chix

My boyfriend at the time in no way could be considered fat. Joe was from Missouri and had inherited a love for food from his state while somehow, against all odds, managing to avoid the high rate of obesity, diabetes, inbreeding and country music appreciation. He just really enjoyed eating. He was shocked to find I had never heard of Chicken in a biscuit. Butchered poultry in a bite sized cracker must be a southern thing. I found the concept of dead chickens haunting the inside of a Nabisco cracker more frightening than the actual wafer of grain itself. Iíve never been one for eating foods like water melon or cherries where you had to expend extra work removing the seeds or pit from your mouth. So an even more disturbing thought was that eating these crackers may involve picking feathers out of my teeth.

Posted by droz0008 at 3:24 PM

February 5, 2005


February 5, 2005...a new online journal is born. Why live journal? I guess its about time to get started documenting my life since one day im going to have a best selling book of my personal memoirs. Lets hope my publisher doesn't take over all artistic control with the cover art. In a country where only a tenth of Americans get their news and information from the printed word, a picture is worth a thousand words. Unless of course we're speaking of the blind. But since my blog as it were is not currently accesible to the visually impaired I suppose we can politely overlook our nonseeing neighbors for the time being. Anyway, lets face it...people judge a book by its cover. That's why it is imparative that I have the proper cover for my memoirs. I've posted some specific examples of book covers that immediately scare away the reader......


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My headshots are also another concern of mine. Ok, lets be practical, I've been on this earth long enough to have realized I have model like facial bonestructure and lips that rival Ms. Julia Roberts. (I also have a nice ass too, but that's beside the point). My face from an overly conservative view point would be considered 'cute'. However, if photographed from a very specific angle (speculated at around 30 degrees) I have been said to resemble a one Steven Buscemi. 2040136.jpg Now this could be extermly virulant to my writing career. Having a headshot that resembles a celebrity who is type cast as a child molester in such blockbusters as "Con Air" has very negative implications for obvious reasons. With such a headshot in my book, where my readers should have seen literary art, all they will see is Megan's law.

Posted by droz0008 at 12:04 AM