Anyone who reads this is going to initially be drawn to one opinion of me and that is that I am paranoid. Therefor, before I even begin on paranoid ramblings of the like we will explore further, I must explain why I am not paranoid and hopefully you'll at least understand.
I have been drawn to the paranormal for as long as I can remember. My mother had a book about the Great Wonders of the World and the paranormal "Time-Life-Book-series" about mysteries and unexplained phenomena. These were a favorite of mine as a child. I remember reading them on the floor when it was raining; television and video games within my reach yet I was consumed by the things I was discovering.
The list was endless as resembles the first 3 season of the X-files. Bigfoot, The Sphinx, telekinesis, poltergeists, The Loch Ness Monster, Atlantis, and so many other amazing things were at my disposal within the bookshelf in my family's game room. My multiplying curiosities mined the local library for paranormal information - some of it leading to conspiracies.
The greatest of the unexplained is the conspiracy that doesn't exist. I was exposed to concepts such as Freemasonry, the Illuminati, Skull and Bones- all the
basics. I remember the moment where I first read about the Illuminatii . I was sitting in one of those uncomfortable plastic chairs which was situated right on the border from the "KidZone" and the big people's library. I don't remember the details but I remember the moment, like a snapshot at this point. The words are hard to make out and slightly blurry but nonetheless this was the moment that turned me into the man I am today.
This quest for information and the truth turned into a biut of an obsession in my 20's. I don't know if it was the pot, the shrooms, or just plain growing up but for a while there I suspected myself of being paranoid. It took me sometime time to realize that although I love to read and talk about conspiracies and think them through, what I truly love is trying to disprove them. Most conspiracies can never be proven so if someone can disprove it then it must be false but some are more complicated than that. Some are like one of those crazy logic problems you always skipped over in that book of puzzles you convinced Mom to get you from the store. Some require much thought and cunning to disprove. It's like solving a brain teaser.
Now the bookshelf in my game room has been replaced by this laptop on my table and the handful of books has become an entire world of information at my fingertips at 4:21 in the morning when I'm trying to relax after a late night at work. What I discovered in my 20's is that I am not paranoid because I know I am paranoid. People who are truly paranoid don't think they are paranoid because they believe the paranoid thoughts. I know my enemy, even if it doesn't exist, and I will not be surprised when just one of the thousands of Diabolical conspiracies turns out to be real. In the meantime I hope to share some of my favorites with you.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Monday, July 20, 2009
Right & Left
Our landlord brought us a new refrigerator today. It is a huge improvement over our last which had most recently started screaming at us while operating. The inside dimensions are much more spacious and customizable, and I can fit so many more year old dressings and condiments in my door than before. The problem it does have is that the door handles are on the left and it opens to the right, the opposite of our old fridge. Every time I try to open the door I reach for the wrong side because it just seems more natural for me to do so. Then when the door is swinging to the left I have to stand a foot away to allow the door to pass in front of me instead of beyond me on my left. While packing all of our food into the new fridge it dawned on me that this refrigerator issue illustrates a common political phenomenon. Lifetime Political Party Affiliates.
Allow me to explain briefly. The refrigerator itself represents our nation and it's political system. Regardless of which direction the door opens, liberal/left or conservative/right the refrigerator still functions, the food stays cool, the people are pacified but nothing is different inside the political system. I happen to have been raised on the left side of the political spectrum and like most Americans will find myself there for the rest of my life. When faced with a change in ideals such as the door opening the other direction I found my brain unable to function properly. If I thought about it long enough (dealt with it for a day) I would probably agree that opening the door in a slightly different manner was really not that big of a deal and maybe even there will be a benefit to it such as it won't bang on the side of our kitchen counter all the time. I just can't do it. Just like most Americans cannot take a step back, look at the other side and think about its views for just enough time to actually form an educated opinion.
Allow me to explain briefly. The refrigerator itself represents our nation and it's political system. Regardless of which direction the door opens, liberal/left or conservative/right the refrigerator still functions, the food stays cool, the people are pacified but nothing is different inside the political system. I happen to have been raised on the left side of the political spectrum and like most Americans will find myself there for the rest of my life. When faced with a change in ideals such as the door opening the other direction I found my brain unable to function properly. If I thought about it long enough (dealt with it for a day) I would probably agree that opening the door in a slightly different manner was really not that big of a deal and maybe even there will be a benefit to it such as it won't bang on the side of our kitchen counter all the time. I just can't do it. Just like most Americans cannot take a step back, look at the other side and think about its views for just enough time to actually form an educated opinion.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
NIGHTMARES AND NICOTINE: ON THE JEWEL
ON THE JEWEL
If you have never went to sleep in your own bed and awoke in a strange cold metal cell before, you will never understand the depth of fear that one feels when that happens. I am not even going to try to describe it. You think of how you could have ended up there and so many options enter your mind. When you are alone, naked, and hungry in a 4x4 cell your mind really starts to wander. You start to back track along the possible paths that might have led you to such a place.
I guess you could say it all started when I first signed up for Facebook. It was there waiting for me. It knew that eventually one of the long lost or newer friends in my friend list would post their score. I was like some people at first: remembering how Bejeweled was fun and all but was merely a Tetris clone. I had what I call now, my Tetris phase. That addiction was hard enough to turn my back on and Bejeweled was certainly not going to compare to the high that I experienced when playing Tetris.
Then another friend posted their score and I noticed that this wasn’t Bejeweled, it was Bejeweled Blitz. What does the Blitz mean? It sounds like a fast paced improved version of Bejeweled. The fact that it was different just made me want to try. There are a lot of things you could do with the game to improve upon it. It was in the middle of that train of thought that I noticed the word BETA in the title.
“Sweet, it’s so new and fresh that they’re still in the BETA testing phase, I really should check it out” I thought as I clicked, on the badge declaring the high score of 140833 that my friend had just achieved.
They say that the first time you try Heroine that you become deathly ill as your body rejects. I hated Bejeweled Blitz Beta the first time too. Seeing your friend’s 6 digit high score when you have scored a measly 8544 is much like becoming violently ill to a video game nerd like me. If this chick from my homeroom in 8th grade could get over 140,000 I can certainly do better than that. Ten games later I’m screaming “What the hell is wrong with me?” while the alarms signifying my time running out echoes in my head.
“One minute? Who the hell makes a game that only lasts a minute? I have never heard of anything so stupid before.” I said as the voice of Bejeweled announced “Goooooo” on my 14th game.
It was the 20th game, just as I was about to put the shit down and move on to more productive outlets for my energy when I broke 25,000 and got my first badge.
“A badge - for me?” I must have done well. Maybe I can do better.
Maybe I can do better. That’s where it all begins, ends, and rots away to nothing. Maybe I can do better.
“Maybe you caaaaaan” the voice of Bejeweled sings in your mind.
“I can.”
“Yeeeessssss.”
“I can!”
“Gooooooooo, play with us, beat your friends, show them who is the smartest, fastest, and best at Bejewellllllllled.”
Then I couldn’t stop. I was finding myself on the Jewel first thing in the morning. Realizing, 4 hours later that not only had I not even made coffee but I didn’t have anything to eat. It’s not that big of a deal I would assure myself. I know people that have ruined relationships because they were obsessed with World of Warcraft. This is nothing like that. It’s just a stupid puzzle game.
Soon, more of my friends were on the Jewel, racking up higher and higher scores; making the voice urge me to beat them more aggressively. My family joined one by one: my sister, my brother-in-law, my Mom, and even my Dad. I think I remember selling my Dad on getting a Facebook account by saying he could compete with me on Bejeweled. I heard that my nephew had a contact high watching my sister play; urging her on like his soccer team was just about to stage a comeback in the final minutes of the game.
Then one week, my friends and I scored higher than average all in the same week and I received a notification in my email that we had the highest team score out of all players that week. We were sent to a website to claim our prize. It was that night that I disappeared from my own bed.
I awoke with not much as far as memories go. It came back to me slowly, in bits and pieces. Then the paranoia crept in. The possible answers to all of my questions rushed through my mind.
“Was I drugged? Where am I and who would do this to me? I thought of that crazy guy that I dated once and abruptly stopped talking to because I couldn’t stand the way he chewed with his mouth open. Was he behind this?
That’s just about the time the door opened and a cloaked figure entered the cell. He told me to stand and to follow him and his companion. We walked through several winding, and sterile corridors and approached a large metal door at the end of a hallway. The wet, sticky sound their footsetpes made gave me a chill and I found that I could hear the familiar clanging of jewels being cleared and hyper jewels exploding.
That is all that I could remember when I awoke back in my bed. I heard what sounded like thousands of games of Bejeweled playing beyond the door and then everything was black again. There I was, back in bed, clammy, out of sorts wondering what had happened to me for just a moment before remembering to forget and play bejeweled. That is all that I needed to do. I needed to survive, as I did before in my old life and now every chance I had I needed to play Bejeweled. Thinking of it excited me like nothing has before.
I do not know why. When I think of the why I simply remember to forget. I have glimpses of words from cloudy voices saying something about surviving. They had to survive. I was needed. My part was important to someone’s survival, something’s survival; but it’s so hard to remember when all you remember is to forget.
“Time’s Up.”
If you have never went to sleep in your own bed and awoke in a strange cold metal cell before, you will never understand the depth of fear that one feels when that happens. I am not even going to try to describe it. You think of how you could have ended up there and so many options enter your mind. When you are alone, naked, and hungry in a 4x4 cell your mind really starts to wander. You start to back track along the possible paths that might have led you to such a place.
I guess you could say it all started when I first signed up for Facebook. It was there waiting for me. It knew that eventually one of the long lost or newer friends in my friend list would post their score. I was like some people at first: remembering how Bejeweled was fun and all but was merely a Tetris clone. I had what I call now, my Tetris phase. That addiction was hard enough to turn my back on and Bejeweled was certainly not going to compare to the high that I experienced when playing Tetris.
Then another friend posted their score and I noticed that this wasn’t Bejeweled, it was Bejeweled Blitz. What does the Blitz mean? It sounds like a fast paced improved version of Bejeweled. The fact that it was different just made me want to try. There are a lot of things you could do with the game to improve upon it. It was in the middle of that train of thought that I noticed the word BETA in the title.
“Sweet, it’s so new and fresh that they’re still in the BETA testing phase, I really should check it out” I thought as I clicked, on the badge declaring the high score of 140833 that my friend had just achieved.
They say that the first time you try Heroine that you become deathly ill as your body rejects. I hated Bejeweled Blitz Beta the first time too. Seeing your friend’s 6 digit high score when you have scored a measly 8544 is much like becoming violently ill to a video game nerd like me. If this chick from my homeroom in 8th grade could get over 140,000 I can certainly do better than that. Ten games later I’m screaming “What the hell is wrong with me?” while the alarms signifying my time running out echoes in my head.
“One minute? Who the hell makes a game that only lasts a minute? I have never heard of anything so stupid before.” I said as the voice of Bejeweled announced “Goooooo” on my 14th game.
It was the 20th game, just as I was about to put the shit down and move on to more productive outlets for my energy when I broke 25,000 and got my first badge.
“A badge - for me?” I must have done well. Maybe I can do better.
Maybe I can do better. That’s where it all begins, ends, and rots away to nothing. Maybe I can do better.
“Maybe you caaaaaan” the voice of Bejeweled sings in your mind.
“I can.”
“Yeeeessssss.”
“I can!”
“Gooooooooo, play with us, beat your friends, show them who is the smartest, fastest, and best at Bejewellllllllled.”
Then I couldn’t stop. I was finding myself on the Jewel first thing in the morning. Realizing, 4 hours later that not only had I not even made coffee but I didn’t have anything to eat. It’s not that big of a deal I would assure myself. I know people that have ruined relationships because they were obsessed with World of Warcraft. This is nothing like that. It’s just a stupid puzzle game.
Soon, more of my friends were on the Jewel, racking up higher and higher scores; making the voice urge me to beat them more aggressively. My family joined one by one: my sister, my brother-in-law, my Mom, and even my Dad. I think I remember selling my Dad on getting a Facebook account by saying he could compete with me on Bejeweled. I heard that my nephew had a contact high watching my sister play; urging her on like his soccer team was just about to stage a comeback in the final minutes of the game.
Then one week, my friends and I scored higher than average all in the same week and I received a notification in my email that we had the highest team score out of all players that week. We were sent to a website to claim our prize. It was that night that I disappeared from my own bed.
I awoke with not much as far as memories go. It came back to me slowly, in bits and pieces. Then the paranoia crept in. The possible answers to all of my questions rushed through my mind.
“Was I drugged? Where am I and who would do this to me? I thought of that crazy guy that I dated once and abruptly stopped talking to because I couldn’t stand the way he chewed with his mouth open. Was he behind this?
That’s just about the time the door opened and a cloaked figure entered the cell. He told me to stand and to follow him and his companion. We walked through several winding, and sterile corridors and approached a large metal door at the end of a hallway. The wet, sticky sound their footsetpes made gave me a chill and I found that I could hear the familiar clanging of jewels being cleared and hyper jewels exploding.
That is all that I could remember when I awoke back in my bed. I heard what sounded like thousands of games of Bejeweled playing beyond the door and then everything was black again. There I was, back in bed, clammy, out of sorts wondering what had happened to me for just a moment before remembering to forget and play bejeweled. That is all that I needed to do. I needed to survive, as I did before in my old life and now every chance I had I needed to play Bejeweled. Thinking of it excited me like nothing has before.
I do not know why. When I think of the why I simply remember to forget. I have glimpses of words from cloudy voices saying something about surviving. They had to survive. I was needed. My part was important to someone’s survival, something’s survival; but it’s so hard to remember when all you remember is to forget.
“Time’s Up.”
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