daily shriek

i just love it when art is simple, clean and to the point.

now quit fucking around get back to work.

my grasp on reality took a huge hit yesterday when i came across this article that explains an experiment that would seem to prove out that reality apparently does not exist when we are not observing it.

what are you fucking kidding me? take for example this, my corner of cyberspace — apparently it sprang into existence when first i observed it and everything that thus far has crossed the threshold of my event horizon and into my browser cache must certainly exist for me.

going forward, there are infinite possibilities for what could be there, and yet, since i’ve already once made observations of it, i have embarked down a tree of boolean decisions, and now i am permanently entangled within it. it’s the standard human theme of choosing your own path.

what i wonder is if every other member sees the same collection of bits.

said bits are configured in such a complex configuration and appear to persist irrespective of time-space — i suspect that somehow my entanglement is part of maintaining that stasis — and so i suspect that the feedback loop must surely be shared.

what remains however, is the nagging question of whether or not you exist.

my buddy tom noted that

it’s a bit ego centric really, to find that reality doesn’t exist unless we observe it. It implies that we create reality by mere observation. Wouldn’t that make us gods? And why, if we create reality, wouldn’t we create something a little nicer? These days, we are observing our reality go down the shitter as a possibly non-existant tard of a president whips the possibly non-existant world into possibly non existant chaos.

Someone please observe the dancing girls and free kegs of wine!

why, it’s almost as if the universe were a malleable but shared substrate that our world views and actions shape; only everyone’s world view is in conflict with everyone else’s so what that mean that reality is actually the collective consciousness clamoring about within the universe?

some shit-bag posts smarmy crap about appetite suppressant dung pills or whatever as a comment. well fuck it. my open letter to the world today is heart-felt fuck you to blog spammers, i hope you get herpes infections in both eyes after you catch a load from the donkey dong you sucked behind that bar in tijuana while hung over from all the generic canadian drugs you ingest while getting ass fucked by sweaty men with pus dripping of their viagra jacked-up cocks you slimy bitch whores.

i went to the bathroom to take a dump, had my sudoku at the ready, but my bowels decided not to cooperate — a rare event for me and my high-fiber ways — and i thought how crazy that i am having to work so hard.

then it hit me “that’s insane, got no brain” started up in my head as i squeezed as squeezed.

apologies and no disrespect to b-real et al, but dude sounds constipated, and my little experience to day called them to mind — oh, and how much fun i had back in the day when c-hill was new, and how i kept blowing out my speakers wondering how he could just kill man.

we have defeated our foes and stand upon the world stage uncontested, we shall rot from within and be pecked apart from without just like rome.

the rain this morning has been falling at a constant droning clip, in a breeze just on the lazy side of brisk. the breeze was cold and nagging, the feeble attempt of the dying winter to reach out her icy fingers from across her arctic grave to remind me of her love. i will miss her every icy breath, the way she drives me to blanket sanctuary the way she robs me of anger, the way she soothes.

when the fires of sweat-soaked summer start suffocating me i will stick my head in the freezer and dream of my beloved winter wind and of this very morning.

i have been sitting here at my desk slugging it out with the most boring java code ever in the whole freaking world, and i keep smelling this vaguely unpleasant aroma and am pretty sure it’s coming from me.

however i have on all clean clothes, and even am wearing antiperspirant.

wtf? well, now i remember — i splattered some bacon grease on my pant leg this morning whilst cooking breakfast, and since i forgot to change my slacks before i left the house.

so i have been smelling like slowly congealing pork fat all day, emanating like creeping death itself, a vague whiff of something you’re just not ready to accept.

Oh man, the bbc and discovery networks did a special about the yellowstone super volcano some years ago that they run between specials about Nostradamus and the mayan calendar’s prediction that the world will end December 23, 2012

Between that and knowing that the world is really controlled by the troika of the Bilderbergers, The Trilateral Commission and the FreeMasons who are all in turn controlled by the Illuminati, all my anxieties are overlaid in fine lattice work along with all my ordinary existential freak-outs over fatherhood, career.

Why, it’s an uroboros of angst keeping me afloat on this insignificant rock hurling about in the sea of endless nothingness that is, apparently, reality.

a guys is holding a gun, backing away from the camera, he’s afraid of the camera and the media to which it’s connected and the people those media control and his mind is snapping,

he wants to end the pain, the gun in his hand represents the ability to focus his scattered rage, his family has yet to be discovered in the den

there’s no turning back now

i fucking hate this phrase, no meme in current culture irritates me more than “step up” and not just because it became popularized from the insipid morons on “The Apprentice.”

no, my hate runs much deeper than that. this phrase hammers home just how feeble-minded the general populace has become, when to sound smart or effective, people mindlessly spew heretofore meaningless clumps of verbal feces, with no sense of irony whatsoever.

it’s just an outcropping of the reality show culture, as if life and art have gotten so good at imitating one another that no one can tell the difference between saying something clever and parroting a douche-bag.