A Bedtime Story

My Philosophy teacher's uncle told him this story before bed one night, back when he was a young lad. I'd like to share it here, because I think there's a valuable lesson to be learned, also I think it's a funny story to tell a kid.

Once upon a time, there was a young boy. The boy was alone in the world. He had no parents, no friends, no family, not even any teachers. He was very, very sad, all of the time.

One night, the boy thought that he would be happier somewhere else. So he looked at the moon, and how big and bright it was in the night sky, and decided to go there. But when he got to the moon, it was nothing more than a big ball of cheese. Disappointed, the boy went home.

The next day, he looked up at the sky and saw the sun. He thought that the sun looked like a happy place to be, so he went to it. When he got there, though, the sun was nothing but a plastic yellow ball. Hardly an entertaining place to be. Disappointed, the boy went home.

That night, he looked skywards again and saw the stars. They had a mysterious allure to him, and their twinkling was even encouraging to him, in a way. So once again, he journeyed skywards, but when he got there, he saw that the stars were nothing but small holes in a big black piece of construction paper. Disappointed, the boy went home.

And there he remains to this day.

There is a point to this story, which I have forgotten.

Anonymous corrupts innocent lols

The people of the Internet, Anonymous, LLers, the Goons of SA, OTers who were previously thwarted in an attempted stunt at the Mission: Impossible 3 opening, the YTMNDers, various hacker groups, trolls of the world, the GameFAQs members, the Gaians, the eBaumers, and the Mxicans; us old time Internet users, and the newest of noobs, the YouTubers and MySpacers, must band together for a fight that transcends our differences and takes us to a level beyond our individual selves.

It's been going on for a while, but now it's time to admit it. The internet is legit. It's not just for nerds anymore. The Internet is vast, expansive, and all-inclusive. It's made up of people from all walks of life shedding their societal constraints and letting the madness run wild. Sarcastic assholes, sexual deviants, your grandmother, they all have their place here. MySpace jokes are made on network television. Someone you know was a YouTube interweb superstar.

So what does this nascent society do with its newfound power? Why, declare war, of course! A just war, in my opinion. The Church of scientology is responsible for a laundry list of atrocities, including fraud, burglary, and murder.

It's not necessarily the crazy that makes Scientology an easy target. Well, actually, yeah, it is, because that sci-fi shit's fucking hilarious. The fun part is, scientologists believe that shit. They believe it because by the time you're allowed to learn about it, you've forked over more than $300,000 to the church. With the stakes so high, it'd be hard to admit to yourself that you fucked up.

I've always admired Scientology, I really have. I can only fucking dream of coming up with a scam so glorious. At the root of scientology is a concept that is central to all marketing: That you are unhappy. We can fix you. Combined with rabid misinformation campaigns, the creation of an "us-vs-them" mentality, and a highly inclusive "you're in the club!" culture, the church has become an incredible success, earning untold millions of dollars and ruining countless lives. I can only dream of being so brilliant.

So when the time comes, I'll see you at church.

the madness continues

Spring '08 schedule posted here.

One of my favorite things about being sarcastic and cynical is that people take all of the stupid shit I say seriously. Often this leads to people thinking I'm kind of out there. Sometimes people take offense. Most of the time, though, people just think I'm agreeing with them and not making fun of them. I love it. Love it, love it, love it.

On the filesharing front, I read an article in the Times yesterday where they talked about proposing network-level content filtering for the purpose of stopping piracy. This would mean that instead of searching the p2p nets for people sharing files, or placing automatic filters on the YouTube servers (or, God forbid, your own computer) to weed out copyrighted material, the search for pirated material would be happening at your ISP.

In short, all of your internet traffic would be analyzed by your ISP (Comcast, TWC, what have you) for potentially copyrighted content zipping through your intertubes. This frightens me, and it should frighten you. Your own ISP, who you pay an exorbitant amount of money each month (for something that should be free, no less), is going to assume that you are a criminal and have computers checking your internet traffic. "But Jon," you say, "I'm not a criminal! If you're being a responsible, law-abiding citizen, you should have nothing to hide from the interweb cops!"

I'm not even going to address the ethics of filesharing right now, since that horse has been beaten well into the ground. The ISP is treating you like a criminal and invading your privacy, yes, but even that might not be enough to convince you to be concerned. Rather, let me just remind you that we all have something to hide. Because the internet is for porn.

I'd like to close with another reminder that I hate everyone: Drug Approved, Is Disease Real?

flying cars yet?

When I was in 8th, 9th, probably 10th grade, I would stay up late playing Half-Life and then sleep through school. I went through my days half-awake, frequently being yelled at for being asleep, often making various social blunders because I would say or do the wrong thing and, worse, overlook it or simply not care. Typically, I'd put my head down and throw on my Portable Compact Disc player, ignore everyone, and pretend to enjoy the isolation. Truth be told, I hated isolating myself, it was just easier, especially when my brain was in a fog.

Now, whether anyone wants to admit it or not, smoking weed every day will make you similarly retarded, although a week of abstinence is more than enough to sharpen you back up. I notice that my life as a fucking shithead stoner is much like my life as a fucking shithead teenager, except I have an iPod now and drugs cost more.

It begs the question of "why." As in, "Why would you spend upwards of $100 a week on weed alone?" I wish I could say that all of this crazy, wild substance abuse is part of a crazy, wild lifestyle, spending every night with a redhead in my lap, a credit card in one hand, and a rolled up 20 in the other. As it turns out, I'd say that I spent at least an hour each day this break packing bowl after bowl while my friends and I would wonder out loud, "What are we doing tonight?"

What happened to going out for dinner, seeing a movie, or even getting stoned and liking it? That's right, we used to get high and consider it to be a solid night of entertainment. Going on burnrides is fun, given the right tunes and the right people; neither is hard to find, at least where I'm from.

I like to think of myself as spontaneous, fun-loving, open. Something happened in 2007, something that put me in a funk. I guess it could have been getting in the habit of smoking in my dorm constantly. Who knows? I need to start learning to enjoy things like going to movies and even just watching TV with friends. Sitting around packing bowls and watching Adult Swim is old, yes, but I have at least a solid 60 more years on Earth, plenty of time for everything to "get old."

More likely than things getting old is the chance that I'm getting boring. For, you see, "only boring people ever get bored," a bit of advice that I used to live by, back in the days when I'd have a good time no matter what I was doing, even if the party tonight wasn't a "rager."

I've been trying to find an outside source to blame this sophomore slump on. I'm starting to suspect that I've just lost my ability to appreciate a sunny day for what it is, and I think that spending my days in a constant fog can blind me to that fact. Just walking downtown with a friend for a pack of smokes can be a great time, if you choose to enjoy it instead of throwing the ipod on, putting your head down, and wondering if there's anywhere to go.