Recalling the humanity crushing

Sitting down as I did to read a book shortly after experiencing turkey delight, I began to recall the dreams of nights past. You know, when a certain something jars your mind and brings those exciting and/or horrifying events to the forefront of your mind. Some interesting items began to re-emerge.

4 nights ago A dream of a new movie to be released (direct to home video). Dick's Clan: The Nordmeyer Story. That's right, I had a vision of a movie being released, on VHS only, that told the story of the beloved neighborhood friendship. A picture on the back of the video, as I recall, showed the actor playing Dick as he held a baby to the sky. I scoffed at the actor playing him, thinking that he didn't fit the bill. Adam was played by that annoying kid from the Leave it to Beaver movie. The movie has an interesting concept, and I'm sure some even more interesting and apalling twists.

3 nights ago An investigation of a fatal rural car crash led me to a rural mansion, buried deep within the woods and behind an intimidating gate. What was even more intimidating was my invitation to view what I like to refer to as the "funeral pool," which consisted of a large indoor pool with cloudy green water and indoor/outdoor carpet for a deck. I was told that dead bodies lie in the pool, (at or near the bottom) and if there was anyone that I wanted to view I could simply pull them out and take a gander. Very vivid, very horrific. I still have a lingering sense of fright in remembrance. Such a strange idea of a memorial or preserve could be used in some other story, which I may do.


Last night I entered yet another mansion that seemed to serve as my semi-permanent dwelling that I shared with a few other guys. I planned to take care of some fish that seemed in need of my special care. They were exotic species probably. One arrogant large white fish was swimming in the air outside of the tank. I new what I had to do, as in get him back in that water, so I grabbed it. That's when it turned into an angry white cat that attacked my left thumb with a ferocity. I remained cool and simply used the cat's phobia against it. I had the puzzle solved I thought. I dunked it back in the water at which point it drowned and turned back into the fish, but without the hot-headedness. Now the problem would be explaining this, which I attempted to do, to BORT himself as he administered first-aid. "I know you'll never believe this..." as I explained exactly what happened. "You probably think I'm on acid." Which is possible in the dream world I guess, even if I wasn't aware.

So, interpret how you will. Maybe this points to some sort of strange supressed sexual desire or a harmul insecurity that will come back to haunt me in my later life (as dreams usually indicate). Or maybe all of the Nyquil previously ingested is beginning to catch up to me. In any case, I like it, and only hope I can keep up the good work.

In one other related point, I'm real fed up with mini-vans with DVD players on the road. Yesterday one flashed me with their lights several times simply because I wouldn't speed up to hurry my passing of a truck. Well fuck off Mr. and Mrs. Jenkinson. I know that getting you, your kids and your nauseating excuse for family unity (the van) back in the suburban Chicago garage is important, but me smashing those beautiful windows and doors with a tire iron and fucking with your electronics via remote mind control will burn a fear into those children that will cause them more trauma than their life at home already has caused them (if that's possible). So tell your mini-van driving friends to cut the bullshit and just smile at passerbys passively, as to not further reduce their already miniscule amount of dignity.

Good night now. Words of the week: Don't let your inspirations drag you into desperation.

They apologized, then stole my dignity

Does anyone around here remember Oliver North? Good. He was accused of all types of dirty crooked weapons dealings back in the '80s. He should have been put in a dark, dank place for life, but instead does anyone know what he does? That's right, he's on Fox News. That's where you go if you're a government criminal or just a devilish human. He hosts a show called "War Stories," which although may be interesting, seem to be nothing more than stories of heroism with the hopes that we can strike up a little much needed national pride. USA! USA! Now we chant. Chant with me asshole. Hunter S. Thompson wrote a lot about the evils of Oliver North, and he had extraordinary insight into the politics of it all (at least relative to the rest of us). As it turns out, and I have found out on a small but exact scale, government officials at various levels actually (surprise) don't care so much about the constituents, but whether or not they can keep people from ousting them from office legally or otherwise.

The battle involving science and religion is hot! As we speak all sorts of assholes are writing about why this fight needs to exist. Let's see... is that true? Do we need this fight? Do we need religion more than ever to justify the goals of science? Are they the same goals in some grand sense? Do parallels exist? I agree with the two latter statements. I also agree that pinto beans are better than black beans, but when you mix them you receive top-shelf taste. That's not a proverb or an analogy, just a "gut-feeling." Funny pun intended. I am funny? Sure. We can all agree with that. Sprituality or religion? Or are they the same? Science: can you develop a time-machine? This age-old question will fuck with your head for hours. Instead, it is suggested by the author that you resort to drugs. I've left you with a few things to think about, so please stop fingering the 's' key ever so gently and get to typing.

I'm driving long-distance tomorrow, so I need my prayer and rest. You're prayers are also welcome. I bought Death Wish 3 (in oversized plastic case) for $2 yesterday. Enough said. Paul Kersey kills people in this one.

Richardson Method

A long time ago, in response to rabid dogs running free in the streets, I had developed a particular method. That could be the end of the story. The Richardson Dog Catching Method took care of many of the problems that affected us daily. However, today, D. Malkus presented his version of the same method: The Richardson extrapolation method. "What?" I asked myself in anger. Oh, real smooth Malkus, ripping off my name and all for some mathematical technique I don't even understand.

Everyone please bow their heads in a moment of silence and in memory of my fabulous dog retrieval method. It shall never be mentioned again.

Meeting of the mind's freaks

Ahhh, at last, it's been a strange and cloudy past couple of weeks. And what's to be said of them? Well, simply put, I am feeling to be on my last mental leg, and maybe physical. Strangely enough BORT, I too am now sick with the Scarlet Fever, or so I like to say. Actually, possibly in a strange telepathic innoculation, I have been inflicted with a terrible throat disease. Certainly, you're behind this. Now, normally I wouldn't care less about this, but I did have to sit in one room yesterday until 2 am, at which time a tentative agreement was reached between the state and union, signed by yours truly. I may get sued, in which case I will give my closest friends a call for monetary assistance. I will discuss details of this agreement later. It drained me good, and now I must rest.

The one point I've taken from this whole experience is that everything is political, and you are now to hold much pessimism in regard to all things read in the paper. More on this later as well.

Now I will combine all other news items into one line: Saw Grizzly Man - gave good insight into the folly of man, saw a bike get hit by a car, somebody quit my class today in a storm of fury, three kittens, Leonard Davidson's cookie maker, a special and mighty secret code revealed, taco meal, zach.

Out of energy now, sleep.

I am enthralled in a pit of despair

As if in retaliation for my mockery of modern medicine in the previous post, I am now officially sick/ill. I had to go home early from work today, and while there was forced to wear a mask because the nurses feared that I'd make the children sick (note: they already WERE; who do you think gave me this disease?!). My throat hurts, I have chills/fever, my head and muscles ache, etc etc etc. One advantage of working in this field is that I am able to do throat cultures on myself... fortunately (or unfortunately), I do not have strep. So now I just lay here, waiting to die. "It could be cancer," I think. But mostly I just sleep....

...AND play Castlevania: Dawn of Sorrow. Yes: I bought a Nintendo DS a few weeks ago, and bought the newest installment of the beloved adventure series today on my way home from work (it takes place in 2035 for some reason, don't ask). The other game I have is Trauma Center, which is a crazy Japanese game based on performing surgery, plus soap opera drama elements and a scoring system. The DS, as you may know, has a touch screen (like a Palm Pilot), which lends itself well to the surgery genre, but its magic has yet to be seen with Castlevania. I believe there will some spell casting involved, however.

So far, Castlevania: DOS is awesome and I am not leaving the house until I obtain some sort of item that will allow me to "double jump," because there are multiple platforms that I cannot yet reach, and it seems like there's important stuff and sweet magical items hiding up there. Maybe just coins and hearts, who knows?

In other news, the wife and I are actively looking for new housing. Anyone know of a decent house in a decent location around here that costs less than $350,000? If so, please call me.

(She blinded me with) Science!

Fiestawizard, you gots mad skiLLz in the mathie-math. I read your... well... I don't even know what you people call that... proof? solution set? Nice work. I think. I wouldn't know, but it LOOKS like that. Was there a larger life lesson represented within that problem?

As one "advances" up the ladder of one's education, one begins to encounter more and more knowledge gussied up to appear esoteric and erudite. Some of it is, indeed, important learning, perhaps even representing NEW knowledge. Some of it is intellectual masturbation... pleasant but ultimately unfulfilling. Some of it is arrogant; some of it is made-up; some of it is cheating to fool the common folk. Here is a recent such item from my field:

Developmental Coordination Disorder, Generalized Self-Efficacy Toward Physical Activity, and Participation in Organized and Free Play Activities

John Cairney, PhD, John A. Hay, PhD, Brent E. Faught, PhD, Terrance J. Wade, PhD, Laurie Corna, MSc, Andreas Flouris, MSc

Journal of Pediatrics 147(4):515-20 (2005).

Received 4 December 2004; received in revised form 20 April 2005; accepted 6 May 2005

Objective

To test a theoretical model linking developmental coordination disorder (DCD) to reduced physical activity (PA) through the mediating influence of generalized self-efficacy regarding PA.

Study design

This was a cross-sectional investigation of students in grades 4 through 8 from 5 elementary schools in the Niagara region of Ontario, Canada (n=590). Motor proficiency was evaluated using the short-form Bruininks-Oseretsky Test of Motor Proficiency. Generalized self-efficacy was assessed using the Children's Self-Perceptions of Adequacy in and Predilection for Physical Activity scale, and PA levels were evaluated using a 61-item Participation Questionnaire. Structural equation modeling was used to test the influence of generalized self-efficacy on the relationship between DCD and PA.

Results

In this sample, 7.5% (n=44) of the children met the requirements for probable DCD. The effect of DCD on PA was mediated by generalized self-efficacy. In this model, 28% of the variance in children's PA was predicted by generalized self-efficacy and DCD.

Conclusions

Our results suggest that children with DCD are less likely to be physically active and that generalized self-efficacy can account for a considerable proportion of this relationship. The implications for appropriate interventions to increase PA among children with DCD are discussed.
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Yes, that's right: being a klutz is now called "developmental coordination disorder." Other recent advances in my field: Being an ubergeek who communicates better with adultsthan other kids, and perhaps also being REALLY into model trains, is called "Asperger Syndrome." Being a kid who has a tantrum when made to wear excessive winter outerwear is called "Sensory Integration Disorder." Being short is called "idiopathic short stature," and some kids are taking (insurance reimbursed) daily growth hormone injections to "correct" that. Being fat is called "having overweight," because it's a disease, you see. Chronic parent-child conflict is called "oppositional defiant disorder," thus absolving the adults of most responsibility in the matter. Influenza is called "I think he has the bird flu, doctor." Having a headache in the summer is called "Could you please test me for West Nile?" Standing outside is called "getting fresh air." Automobiles are called "cars." Elms are just called "trees" because no one knows the difference anymore.

Like Bruce Dickinson said...

Well, I really shouldn't be posting now, as I'm only procrastinating. Doing other work however, leads me to consider a few other points. I recently watched the movie "The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner," a British film from the early '70's. One of the first of the now popular troubled teen movies, which reached a pinnacle of popularity in the era of after-school specials. Of course, my interest grew in this movie as I realized that it was also a song by Iron Maiden (from "Caught Somewhere in Time). So, I read the lyrics, and then, right then and there, I realized that it was about that movie. "Wow," I thought with interest and delight as I fed myself a spoonful of baby food (squash, in light of the season). Then I thought of the song "Quest for Fire," which is also a movie. Now it's not so funny when Bruce says, "In a time when dinosaurs walked the earth...." Which was always ridiculous sounding to me. Iron Maiden can really re-tell a story with soaring solos and a galloping base line. So, I clearly talk about Iron Maiden too much on here, but go somewheres else if you don't like it lad. Don't complain to me when Ed Hunter shows up knockin' at your door looking for spare change, What? Okay.

Secondly, I wanted to say (briefly, and without much detail) that the Badger Herald is a fairly worthless piece of rag (even for wiping your asshole). They've failed to acknowledge that they have been not only dead wrong in their criticism of the TAA, but also moronic. I know one doesn't usually admit to the latter, and understandably so, but the writer of certain articles should at least admit obvious errors. Errors about their own person, which (or so I thought) is the easiest sort of research, even for complete fucking idiots. Second graders can tell me what school they go to and that they are in fact in elementary school. But then again, I guess dead people don't necessarily know they're dead. So far, they've printed none of the responses the TAA's made, which amounts to about six or so. Even if they print them now, the issue is out of sight and out of mind for most readers. Ethics in journalism anybody? I'll be happy to serve them up right when they come to be, on a paper plate with some canned pineapple and a bean dish I specialize in.

By the way, NYU is on strike, send your support. A recent decision made by the NLRB made it okay for private universities to "de-classify" grad students as employees. Thanks a lot, says NYU.

Steve's Taste of Mortality

That's right, and I'm not talking about Steve Wonder here. I'm referring to Steve Barnes. I've seen this before, but have always lost my internal note as to its significance. That is, the episode of The Simpsons where Apu changes his name to Steve Barnes and sneaks back to India. "Eat your heart out Steve," as UFOID once said. Now Steve has finally reached an acceptable level of external validation, which he has been seeking ever since Dick told him in the yard once that he wouldn't amount to but a pile of skin. Eat your heart out Dick.

I watched Straw Dogs recently. Good show, albeit a little strange. Strange in that it really doesn't make sense with that child molester and all. I guess in the end the point to recognize is that Hoffman's character is imposing all the pain on himself, to prove he is masculine? I think. That's what the director said anyway. DVD extras come in handy occasionally. I did realize (as I tend to do), that I've seen this movie before, long ago and far away, with B.O.R.T. himself, in his golden age of film watching. Thanks man, thanks.

Now a question to mull over in your spare time. Will man and beast ever follow the enlightened evolutionary path to peaceful working relationships, intelligent conversation, and long drives on along the coast? Personally, I don't know why this scenario couldn't occur, but I can only tell you for sure that I would be friends with snakes and falcons (in a world where they would be friendly towards one another as well, or else I'd have a whole different dilemma on my hands, and in my face).

TAA news and blues

Judge for yourself. It's been a hellstorm down here kids. Read this writer's other articles as well.

TAA what?