We have to call Bruce

On German Grammy award winner Lena Goddard

So, look, it's the end of fucking January and we've gotten no further than last January, in fact, it could be argued that we all went back at least 2 steps. Some say that it takes 3 Januaries to catch up during times of economic depression - and mind you, that's not just in reference to your economic state. Anyway, I miss the warmth, the sun. These are the snake days of winter, in contrast to the dog days of summer. Millions of snakes entangle with one another in giant reptilian balls all winter in massive lairs. They get so damned depressed that they have no choice. Humans do something similar, but in solitude, which makes it not very similar at all I guess.

I sat in this chair today, Saturday the 29th, realizing that I had not written much as of late, instead today unconventionally opting to watch VH1's videos of the 80s from A to Z. What messages were they trying to convey in those videos? Who was responsible for those videos? Was it all they could produce technologically? They seem very real to me. Perhaps I just haven't seen a music video in some time. Perhaps they embedded a very low level lighting that pulsated at approximately the same frequency as my brain, which is really subversive, but greatly effective. I was only able to watch a John Cougar Mellencamp video then "I Feel for You" by Chaka Khan, neither song did I enjoy very much. Currently I'm listening to a 45 at 33 speed of "Who's Johnny" by El DeBarge. That makes everything seem very surreal, in contrast to my experience watching 80s videos. "... and tried to look the other way," she did.

Let's get onto what I came to this venue to discuss, and that's Lena Goddard as I am sure you were aware of based on the title of this post. Unlike many of his German cohorts, he was able to gather some respectable and honorable accolades for his roles in the "Seasons Under the Hawk Nest" series, which definitely (at least) out-grossed the "Left Behind" series, and there's no doubt left that Lena is and always has been a better actor than Kirk Cameron. I only mention this because I had a long and disgusting argument with a certain somebody regarding the merits of Kirk Cameron relative to me. I argued, rather unsuccessfully, that I was a more accomplished thespian than he. Well, fuck you Mark because I dug up somebody who is better than him. Petty (or pretty important) arguments aside, let me describe the basic plot of SUHN 2. This sequel is most fresh in my mind: Lena plays a character named Lena who looks uncannily similar to Val Kilmer. He lives in a typical middle suburban home and generally enjoys spending time doing things with friends and hobbying around. One day, while he and his pal shoot the breeze upstairs, an oddly familiar noise is heard from the cellar. It's emotionally straining to him because he's heard this noise before in SUHN part one, and we all recall where that went. A tear runs down his face - a real tear, he really made this part of the movie super realistic. Wow. So, he and his friend go down into the purplish lit basement to investigate, and they immediately witness each and every one of their pumpkins being sucked through the flooring of the basement into some sort of sub-basement. These pumpkins were nearly ripe enough to be picked that day such that losing them would have a significant impact on Lena's life. They investigate further near where the pumpkins had been sucked down. Now cue "Smoke on the Water." Perfect cinematic timing for that song I must say. The floor seemed to consist of only soft boards which easily collapsed into a well built tunnel of concrete with graffiti on the wall. That's when Lena immediately looks at his friend, and then we know, it's the same evil punk dwarf clan from the SUHN 1. Great. So Lena goes upstairs, gets some eye protection, a chainsaw, a machete, and his Beretta and gets ready to slaughter some of the soulless little fucks. He goes down in the tunnel only to realize that it was a well built tunnel system connecting the major mall in the area and some government offices. Some guards proceed to use a taser on him he awakens in some above ground residence. He's a stranger in this home, and viewed as an intruder. The owner has the eye to kill, so Lena jumps in the local storm gutter and slides down the entire hill. He then realizes, coming out on the other side of the ordeal unharmed, that he is in fact Val Kilmer.

Well, anyway, that's just the plot summary, so you can imagine all the awesome shit that happens in between.

Good day.

Cadmium Annie

You sit there and stare off into the deep space of nowhere. Nobody is paying the deserved attention, especially you. Internally you fly your humanistic flag and feel strong, but externally you pay homage to Isaac Asimov's robot laws, as is expected of you. often times you dream of rising out of your robot suit. You think you might be able to stand up on your own, without the high tensile strength robot skeleton that's held you in place since you were birthed. Perhaps sabotage of some sort, perhaps just making what others might think an irrational move. Maybe this something will allow you to settle the ultimate score with them. Maybe not. Maybe you'll be sacrificially annihilated like the others.

Some people are real people, as it turns out. This is surprising, and perhaps alarming to the majority. Many times this alarm turns very ugly and horrific very quickly. Soon the traditional parameters become apparent, even highlighted, and the anomalies are recognized hastily as heresy. Human Genocide follows with only a few escaping. Robots are strong and possess everlasting persistence. They rarely tire of firing off threats and missiles. They're weakness, of course, is the consumption of hydrocarbons, but even when the time comes that they are no longer, new energy sources will likely be available, perpetuating the death cycles.

Let's investigate one example of an anomaly of an anomaly. Her name was Cadmium Annie and she took no shit, at no time, and can only be remembered as doing just that. She lived on her own terms, in her own body made only of flesh and real bone. The constructs of society, made of no real biological material, escaped her, which, to her parent's dismay, put her in a specialized group home for three years. She was quite young at that time, and her only skill, if you can get away with calling it that, was her own ignorance and complete inability to absorb contrived and arbitrary information. As luck would have it, this is how she was able to develop herself, and also to be labeled a bi-polar autistic, as it were. And, as we know, this sort of mental instability label is often stamped on a living being permanently with a hot iron. Typically, for the individual even slightly aware of societal constructs, this is ultimately destructive. Only the blind can truly see. So, for Annie, although exhibiting tendencies that fell beautifully into western philosophical categories, she never realized the invisible environment around her, which caused her to say, "fuck off," an awful lot. She did learn that. In addition, she learned about truths; truths that we are actually taught to ignore. This was good, and put her in a position of good standing with herself subconsciously. She sat around and thought a lot, and did things with her hands, and ate jello pie whenever she saw fit. This was not a problem and she never developed strange compulsions based on unknown sources of external pressure, and only rarely developed strange ticks as a result of natural strange brain chemistry; perfectly natural ticks they were.

She went on and on living, never fitting in anywhere according to others, but fitting in everywhere according to herself. She could do almost anything well, but was never rewarded in the established ways. That made other people inevitably feel sorry for her, but she felt no sorrow, only sorrow for the others for looking at her with pity, an emotion in this case that didn't make sense to her. So, time kept on slipping and slipping into the future. Cadmium Annie stood atop her own prefabricated pedestals and gave little attention to the things that had absolute irrelevance. At the age of 40, her grandfather Herald died of poor and glamorous vodka overdose combined with head problems. Annie would have been greatly saddened by this if not for the great deal of time and money spend by Herald trying to make Annie normal. The estate, worth millions, was given to her. Lying in a remote area, the land possessed great qualities only a reclusive, paranoid millionaire could appreciate. Several people of high monetary stature bid on said property, but Annie saw no value in that. Instead, she moved to the property because it provided land for sustenance and close tie to the things that were real to her. As if by a stroke of luck, others like Annie learned of her escape and began to make a pilgrimage to the area. Soon thereafter, Annie founded the Pine Bluff Cosmonauts. The cosmonauts lived out their existence on that land without hindrances and advanced societal shame pressure, allowing them to develop naturally and without death like symptoms constantly giving them diarrhea. Annie was never hailed as anything other than a real live being, which was realized soon after founding the territory. Ultimately, this settled the score with all of them.

Into the 2011 year (on the eve of apocalypse)

Finally, we lie on the eve of immortality, or total destruction and doom depending on which side of the temple you like best. Van Impe has maintained (after his last prediction, last year, came and went) that the second coming is in 2012. Van Impe, as previously stated, bases none of his theories on science, but prefers to rely on the divine, which is more accurate according to many prominent texts.

Frank Jennings Tipler III however, is clearly Van Impe's primary opposition. Tipler, a mathematical physicist and cosmologist, hypothesized the "Omega point," a point at which infinite computational resources are available, is in the near future, around 2057 to be exact. According to Tipler, this point is associated with God, and thus Jesus somehow, and then becomes the second coming.

Okay, wow. Tipler does use some science to cover his ass, whereas Van Impe has been using TV and biblical verses read quickly and repetitively to sell his gimmicks. Van Impe has to stay on TV, I understand, so it turns out that providing incorrect predictions is the only way he can stay afloat. Well, I guess if his doomsday prediction did come true one day none of what he ever said previously would matter, unless of course he was not a true believer, which would be disappointing to his other loyal, and non-true believer viewers who would be "left-behind" as Kirk Cameron has advertised. On the other hand, Tipler is also staying afloat writing books while being on the notably flimsy and "undisciplined" (as his colleagues have criticized) side of science. I can appreciate that, as all great men of any real scientific substance have always colored outside the lines. Nobody really believed Einstein until he was already dead. So yes, as a matter of personal taste, I like Tipler better I guess, and that was the whole purpose of this essay: who do I like better, Van Impe of Tippler? Well, there's my answer.

Contrary to my personal tastes, I still hope that we are finally only 24 months away from the second coming as Van Impe has finally predicted. "Jesus Christ," I'm always saying in the hopes that he will come back. Although I'm not yet sure what benefit this might have for me, as I've not gone to church in some time. But, like, whatever, it would be pretty cool. Besides, Van Impe turns 80 this year, meaning that there's probably not a lot of predicting left in him, and me and God both hope that he goes to the grave with no regret or guilt... besides the type that most men of religious zealotry have by this time in their lives, if you know what I'm saying.