I dreamt that Ze Frank was in love with me, but I had to keep resisting his advances because he was my teacher and, it turned out, had several wives and families.

Also, he had a bunch of pet penguins.

Has anyone else noticed the sudden influx of The Monster at the End of the Book references on the internet? There's been at least three separate, unrelated places where I've seen it talked about or mentioned in the past week or two. What gives?

[14:32] calypsomatic: i like your brain, but i don't find it very sexy. it's kinda squishy and gross.
[14:32] jonnyhames: I'm breaking up with you

My mom referred to our (horrific) dog, Nelly, as sentient, and I said that she wasn't self-aware. Mom replied that of course she is a different level of sentient than us, but as far as we can tell, dogs can feel shame and embarrassment. And those emotions sort of require a level of self-awareness, do they not? I suppose that they do, as I often forget that sentience is not a binary option, but rather a complicated spectrum. Discuss.

Irish Question Catholic Identity After Abuse Report. "In Ireland, a report into child abuse in schools and orphanages run by Roman Catholic religious orders has renewed debate over the power the church wields in Irish society — especially in the field of education. The report found a shocking level of sexual, physical and emotional abuse."

A "shocking" level? Has anyone ever read any books or seen any movies or heard anything at all about schools in, well, in the United Kingdom in general up until the last couple decades? The physical and emotional abuse has been the subject of every memoir or reference to anything related to the subject, ever. How can you be surprised? I guess they didn't realize that the fact that the schools were religious automatically implied that some of the sexual abuse from the churches would leak over, but honestly, guys. Pretending you never imagined anything was like this isn't helping anybody.

"Perhaps you, too, have had to go without your computer and experienced the humiliation of realizing how pitifully dependent you have become on this one object. It used to be, long ago, that you had a typewriter and a stereo and a TV/VCR and a daily paper and a set of encyclopedias and maybe a secret stash of Playboys. Now all of these items are contained in one appliance, which is great as a space-saver but proves to be something of an Achilles’ heel when that appliance busts. Then the music stops, there are no more movies or TV episodes or videos of amateur milves, you can’t communicate with anyone, and you realize, now that the illusion of a life has been taken from you, that you are just a guy sitting in an empty silent room with a cat who hates you."

So I've been wigging out about my memory for the past year or two. Like how I have the knowledge that I read a book or saw a movie, but little or no actual memories about it. Or when I do remember something, little inconsistencies keep popping up until I wonder if the whole thing isn't just completely fabricated. Well, as of a week or two ago, I feel a lot better about the situation, since I figured out what was up. Obviously it's just the classis scenario where I only started living somewhat recently, and all my memories up until then were implanted. Hopefully now that I've figured it out, some sort of high-tension climax will occur.

I just want to preserve the fact that we were talking about how modern society is becoming increasingly self-aware and producing reflections on itself more than on anything else. Then we noticed that we were talking about being aware of the self-awareness of society, and collapsed into a meta black hole.

I no longer think about how to turn whatever is happening into a blog entry; now I think about how to turn it into a someecard.

"Schroeder says, 'I'll tell you what I believe. I believe in Man. I believe in feeling and music and art. I believe that we are all individual parts of one larger God, and that by serving one another we will ultimately be serving ourselves.'
Schroeder walks away.
'FAG!' shouts Linus."

-Beware of God, Shalom Auslander

There are two types of people in the world: those who believe that all of humanity can be divided into only two categories, and those who believe that it's a little bit more complicated than that.

It doesn't take much to trick me. We are grilling food and drinking alkie to celebrate the resurrection of our lord baseball, and even though I managed to ruin my entire day already last night, I am still *pumped*.

There is an issue of a magazine (The Progressive) that has been around our house for a few months. The ad on the back is for some cell phone provider, and it says, "It's more than just a plan. It's a shared vision."

No, no it's not. It's just a goddamn cell phone plan.

So it appears I am suffering from some sort of (uncertain what word to use) brain cancer. It is not brain tissue that is growing uncontrollably - something less concrete. Patterns or activity, perhaps. But they are feeding on the rest of my brain patterns and activity in order to reproduce. It is not pretty.

A human being is a machine for turning sensory perceptions into value judgements.

Fuck shit balls cunt tits fart boobs!

When I got up this morning, my mom was in a state of excitement. She had seen some women, probably Jehovah's Witnesses or some other religious type, going from house to house down the block, and they would reach our door very soon! She made sure to lock the dogs up so they wouldn't bark, and had her "Dear Christian" pamphlet ready at hand.
The whole exchange was very polite. When she told them she was an atheist, they replied, "May I ask why?"
"Of course! This pamphlet here explains it all."
One of the ladies took the pamphlet for a moment, then said, "Oh, no thank you."
"Yes. Exactly."