Congo Jack

This is a good one

“Do you know what the human body goes through when you have sex? Pupils dilate, arteries constrict, core temperature rises, heart races, blood pressure skyrockets, respiration becomes rapid and shallow, the brain fires bursts of electrical impulses from nowhere to nowhere, and secretions spit out of every gland, and the muscles tense and spasm like you’re lifting three times your body weight. It’s violent. It’s ugly. And it’s messy. And if it wasn’t unbelievably fun, the human race would have died out eons ago. Men are lucky they can only have one orgasm. You know that women can have an hour long orgasm?”-Dr. Cameron, House

I cannot stand the internet, technology, “social” networks, blah, it all makes me sick. The LOL’s and tiny nibbles of “clever” material otherwise known as memes, playing into microscopic attention spans that used to be potential. For fucks sake, I don’t even remember the last time I saw an ellipsis used correctly. It’s all people butchering and fucking with what used to be art and culture, what used to be unique. The only thing worse than watching the cancer its pumping into our culture is being given no other option but to use it. Keyboard warriors hiding behind anonymity to say things no one ever should, cruelty and shock are gaining value like never before. It’s all contributing to the bastardization and industrialization of art. I’m sick of it. Fucking sick of it.

“One pretty woman means fun at the dance. Two pretty women mean trouble in the house. Three pretty women mean run for the hills.”

I hear the hills are nice this time of year.

Such beauty always marks that which remains completely unattainable. One of many, one of a kind. If it’s loyalty you’re looking for, here’s where to find it. My senses betray my cause, but I am not my senses. I cannot shut myself out to such things, one can only ignore, and grow better at ignoring.

You shoulda seen the line at Howie’s.

Though opposites attract, similarities take root.

Bad Grades

I’ve been out of school for a while now, but i’ll admit I still wake up rattled when I have a dream about getting bad grades. I knew my parents were going to be really disappointed, and probably even a little mad. In their eyes the ten hours I spent playing Oblivion the previous week instead of ‘doing homework’ was the reason behind it. It was always something. It was marijuana, it was alcohol (which I barely touch), it was irresponsible friends, it was… I don’t know what it was. Boredom? Half the things the teachers were saying I had already taught myself, and the other half I just plain wasn’t interested in. I would rather have stayed home and read what the great minds of human history had to say over some burnt out, coffee sucking, teaching machine.

Not many people know this about me, but I didn’t get a GPA above 2.5 after I turned 16. College included. Well, okay. One semester in college I buckled down, tried my hardest, and got a 2.9. Given, those GPA’s were weighed down by my complete lack of ability to do math. And if I could be called poor at math, I was absolute shit at Spanish.

I was only able to achieve an A in a handful of classes throughout my educational career. Take away Creative Writing and English classes, and that number drops to two, not counting music or phys ed. Interpersonal Communications 210 in college, and world history and geography class in high school. Both of those were taught by teachers who made an effort to understand the way I learned. Teachers who suggested books I should burn through that would help me understand the concepts they taught. Teachers who were tolerant and accepting of my scatter-brained, sometimes borderline unexplainable behavior. Teachers who stepped back and let me take the reins of my own education.

I understand that the modern education system works for the majority. I understand that such a thing is almost too big to change, too big for just a simple fix. I understand all of that, and I understand that I didn’t quite fit in with those nearly-set-in-stone policies. I just don’t understand how it still gets to me to this day. I know I’m smart. I can see it. I can feel it pounding in my head when I can’t stop thinking, considering, or learning new things. I can tell when I hold conversations, when I stumble across some famous quote about a supposed universal truth that I had already figured out for myself.

This is not me ripping apart the modern education system, it produces lots of hard workers and brilliant, driven minds. This is not me talking down to educators; lord knows we put enough pressure on them already. And this is not me hating my parents for pressuring me to succeed. In their position I would have done much the same thing. This is just me saying I hate feeling stupid because of a piece of paper with letters and symbols on it from five years ago.

I think I need someone to show me around

So what is this website actually? I have been on it for a couple years now but I really don’t feel like I use it for its intended purpose. I just stop by once in a while and dump my brain out, then leave. Usually immediately following. It’s not like I’m not interested in it, but the interface is pretty outrageous. Half the time I see someone else’s post and haven’t the foggiest idea what it could possibly mean. It’s fucking strange, but not in a bad way. Maybe I’ll spend some time exploring later.

“I owe the guy a friend card, not my life.”

“Perhaps you misunderstood the concept of a friend card. This is no ordinary favor. This is a: ‘hey help me hide this body’ favor, or a ‘hey, I need you to come pick me up from a Costa Rican prison’ favor. Don’t give out friend cards willy nilly, they’re a serious commitment.”