Ugh. The number of troops in Bush's surge is rising. I'm saying "ugh" not because I'm disgusted (though I am) but because that's the only sound I can make when I think about getting sucked back into the Army. My guts freeze solid, all the blood drains out of me, leaving me exhausted and cold, with barely enough life left in me to make a febrile grunt of protest: "ugh".
Why isn't it 2008 yet?
Why isn't it 2008 yet?
Turned out my RAM was fried. Like, crispy. Ran a test for less than three minutes and came up with over a hundred errors. Three-year warranty, though, so I'm up and running again.
Smokin' Aces is fucking fantastic.
Smokin' Aces is fucking fantastic.
So, speaking of god dammit all to hell, I've had Burning Crusade installed for about a week, but last night was the first time I'd entered Outland. Hey, I was having too much fun levelling my blood elf pallie and learning Jewelcrafting. But I'm low on gold, so last night I took the plunge on my 60 rogue.
Game crashed to desktop within ten seconds. I start it back up, it crashes and locks up my system. I reboot, start the game again, another crash to desktop. I run the repair program, and it says expansion.mpq is corrupt and that I have to reinstall the damn game.
I lent my WoW discs to my brother a while back, haven't seen them since. Lucky me, I've got images of them on my drive... and they don't work. The install hung three times in a row. So, last night, I started downloading the official 2.0 installer. Got it and BC installed this morning, and I'm starting the patching process.
I swear to Christ, if the damn game crashes this time, I'm going to punch a baby.
Game crashed to desktop within ten seconds. I start it back up, it crashes and locks up my system. I reboot, start the game again, another crash to desktop. I run the repair program, and it says expansion.mpq is corrupt and that I have to reinstall the damn game.
I lent my WoW discs to my brother a while back, haven't seen them since. Lucky me, I've got images of them on my drive... and they don't work. The install hung three times in a row. So, last night, I started downloading the official 2.0 installer. Got it and BC installed this morning, and I'm starting the patching process.
I swear to Christ, if the damn game crashes this time, I'm going to punch a baby.
I'm a big fan of deadpan humor, partly because I don't like being given laugh cues and partly because the military mindset tends to engender an appreciation for it. I have found what may be the perfect comic for things I like to laugh at: Erfworld. I mean, the first image is of this fantasy world being constructed by mile-high Elvis impersonators. If you find that funny, there's probably something deep-seated in your psych that is fucking wrong. Welcome to the club.
Someone cleverly replaced my lungs with an ocean of phlegm. The good kind, too, bright yellow--not that off-brand green shit. It's like Christmas all over again, except instead of presents, I drown in my own fluids!
Woo, my first testimonial. Thanks, Maddigan!
Pittsburgh's been having a really mild winter, 50-60 degrees most days. The apartment's heat, of course, comes on no matter what the temperature is, so I've actually had to turn on the air conditioner some days. The funny part? Before they turned the heat on, I was leaving my oven on 150 and propping the door open. My apartment's small enough that this actually kept it warm. Good think my utilities are all covered by the rent.
The military is trying to recruit the living dead into their ranks. I've got two years of inactive reserve before I can stop worrying about getting called back up myself. I'm honestly not sure what I'd do if they called me back to the Army. I mean, once a week or so, I actually have a bad dream where I'm somehow in the Army again, and I wake up and feel this unbelievable sense of relief that it was just a dream. My subconscious has all the subtlety of a boot in the teeth--I never have to work very hard at interpreting them.
I mean, I saw some things while I was in Korea that I probably wouldn't have seen elsewhere, and maybe in ten or twenty years I'll have a shrink help me dig some of that shit out. But the real reason I don't want to go back to the Army is... well, you know the expression about trying to fit a round peg in a square hole? Well, trying to fit me into the Army is like trying to fit a round peg into a fucking rock. I'm not cut out for the life, and I don't want to be. A distant second is the fact that I don't want to die for Dubya. The man is a perversion.
So, if they call me back up... what? I've got one sorta friend in Canada. I could hop a plane back to Korea, but given how few friends I left there... not a swell idea. Could tell 'em I'm gay, of course, but that also comes with its own set of drawbacks.
I'll probably just go quietly. I'd hate every minute of it, and I might end up crashing out with a fucked-up head, but I'm not prone to quitting just because I don't like what I'm doing. But I truly and seriously cannot imagine anything worse than being forced back into the Army. And believe me, I've got a vivid fucking imagination.
Pittsburgh's been having a really mild winter, 50-60 degrees most days. The apartment's heat, of course, comes on no matter what the temperature is, so I've actually had to turn on the air conditioner some days. The funny part? Before they turned the heat on, I was leaving my oven on 150 and propping the door open. My apartment's small enough that this actually kept it warm. Good think my utilities are all covered by the rent.
The military is trying to recruit the living dead into their ranks. I've got two years of inactive reserve before I can stop worrying about getting called back up myself. I'm honestly not sure what I'd do if they called me back to the Army. I mean, once a week or so, I actually have a bad dream where I'm somehow in the Army again, and I wake up and feel this unbelievable sense of relief that it was just a dream. My subconscious has all the subtlety of a boot in the teeth--I never have to work very hard at interpreting them.
I mean, I saw some things while I was in Korea that I probably wouldn't have seen elsewhere, and maybe in ten or twenty years I'll have a shrink help me dig some of that shit out. But the real reason I don't want to go back to the Army is... well, you know the expression about trying to fit a round peg in a square hole? Well, trying to fit me into the Army is like trying to fit a round peg into a fucking rock. I'm not cut out for the life, and I don't want to be. A distant second is the fact that I don't want to die for Dubya. The man is a perversion.
So, if they call me back up... what? I've got one sorta friend in Canada. I could hop a plane back to Korea, but given how few friends I left there... not a swell idea. Could tell 'em I'm gay, of course, but that also comes with its own set of drawbacks.
I'll probably just go quietly. I'd hate every minute of it, and I might end up crashing out with a fucked-up head, but I'm not prone to quitting just because I don't like what I'm doing. But I truly and seriously cannot imagine anything worse than being forced back into the Army. And believe me, I've got a vivid fucking imagination.
I got involved in a lengthy debate in the news threads, regarding experimentation being done on gay sheep that is intended to de-gayify them. I'm going to link the article, but let me ask a favor first: just read the first two paragraphs, for now. Later, you can read the rest, but for now, just read the first two.
The reason I ask this is that the rest of the article is fucking insane. The technique being researched involves adjusting hormonal balances in the brain of the subject. Somehow, the article goes from there straight to alteration of fetuses to make them straight. I mean, what the fuck? The article is obviously designed to provoke gay and liberal readers, but all the gay and liberal readers on SG are too busy being provoked to notice it. Sigh.
Anyway. Ignoring the whole issue of altering fetuses, the basic concept is fucking neat. Think about it: if all it takes is a hormone adjustment to go from straight to gay, it stands to reason that adjusting your hormones could also make a straight person gay, right?
You know what that would mean? Sexual orientation would no longer matter, to those open-minded enough to accept it. Meet a person of the opposite sex that you really like, but you're gay? Take a pill. Break up with that person and meet a potential same-sex partner? Take another pill.
And another upside to this line of research: on the way to finding the on/off switch for homosexuality, I think it's pretty likely that they'll find the on/off switch for all kinds of bad orientations--pedophilia, necrophilia, whatever. Of course, there's the chance that someone will go around giving people a raging turn-on every time they see a dead kid, but, well,welcome to the future. Just think of it as the rat poison of the new millennium.
The reason I ask this is that the rest of the article is fucking insane. The technique being researched involves adjusting hormonal balances in the brain of the subject. Somehow, the article goes from there straight to alteration of fetuses to make them straight. I mean, what the fuck? The article is obviously designed to provoke gay and liberal readers, but all the gay and liberal readers on SG are too busy being provoked to notice it. Sigh.
Anyway. Ignoring the whole issue of altering fetuses, the basic concept is fucking neat. Think about it: if all it takes is a hormone adjustment to go from straight to gay, it stands to reason that adjusting your hormones could also make a straight person gay, right?
You know what that would mean? Sexual orientation would no longer matter, to those open-minded enough to accept it. Meet a person of the opposite sex that you really like, but you're gay? Take a pill. Break up with that person and meet a potential same-sex partner? Take another pill.
And another upside to this line of research: on the way to finding the on/off switch for homosexuality, I think it's pretty likely that they'll find the on/off switch for all kinds of bad orientations--pedophilia, necrophilia, whatever. Of course, there's the chance that someone will go around giving people a raging turn-on every time they see a dead kid, but, well,welcome to the future. Just think of it as the rat poison of the new millennium.
I have acquired for my viewing pleasure no less than five DVDs full of pirate movies. Not movies that have been pirated--movies about pirates. Old school shit, like The Black Pirate and the '54 version of Treasure Island.
I fucking win.
I fucking win.
Y'know, life's gotta suck for pedophiles. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I feel bad for people who fuck kids. It's despicable and wrong and when somebody does it, society should do its damnedest to make them try to pay for it. Lemme repeat that, because what I'm gonna talk about here might make my stance seem blurry: it is wrong to have sexual relations with kids.
But think about how hard life's gotta be if you wanted to fuck kids--if prepubescents caused you sexual arousal. Because, seriously, who the fuck thinks "I want to be a pedophile when I grow up"? Most sexual kinks set in before puberty. You don't get to choose what you're attracted to, though it's certainly possible to shift your orientation to some degree with a lot of hard work and dedication.
This seemingly random exploration of the uncomfortable is brought to you by my uncle, who was released from prison a year or so ago, after serving a decade for acting improperly with his own daughter. I'm not euphemizing, there--I don't know, and am not really interested in learning, what sort of improper acts he went to jail for. He's had a hard time since getting out; he has to maintain a job and a proper residence, or he has to go back. The local do-gooders in his town recently outed him in the paper as a pedophile, along with a bunch of others, so he lost his job. Dunno if he's gotten another one yet.
I'm not going anywhere with this; there's no big point I'm leading up to. Life's too complex to try and sum up with some pithy remark and a life lesson you forget in a few days--the life of a pedophile no less than any other. It simply occurred to me that, given that children don't feature in my private fantasies, maybe I dodged a bullet I didn't know about.
Lemme bring this a bit closer to home--and piss of a lot of irrational people--by comparing it to homosexuality. If you can't figure out the moral difference between homosexuality and pedophilia, feel free to post comments about how I'm an ignorant gay-basher. I'm as uninterested in your thoughts as you are in thinking. In case anybody's slow on the uptake, I'll state this clearly: same-sex relations are okay by me. Prepubescent relations are not okay by me.
With the disclaimers dispensed with: if you're born gay (as opposed to, y'know, being bitten by one), most often, you figure it out before or during puberty. Most kinks work that way--around the time hair starts sprouting in funny places, you start realizing that there's something different about you. It may take you a while to put your finger on exactly what kind of "different" you are, and maybe even longer that to start admitting it to yourself and others, but you know you don't swim upstream with the rest of the salmon. I think it's fair to assume that pedophilia works the same way. I mean, how else would someone come by perverted desires like that? Maybe my uncle caught pedophile germs off a public toilet seat? Or maybe a pedophile sneezed on him in the subway? Oh, wait, I've got it: my uncle woke up one day and decided that he wanted to go to jail for ten years and spend the rest of his life being spit on. That's gotta be it.
You don't choose what flavor of ice cream you like--just what kind of ice cream you buy. I didn't sit down when I was 13 and decide that I liked sticking my tongue down girls' throats instead of boys' throats--and petite brunette girls at that, with lots of tats and piercings, as opposed to big blondes with no body mods. I kinda doubt my uncle chose to think "damn, that's a fine piece of ass" when he looked at his daughter.
But he did choose to act on those feelings--or chose not to stop himself, however you want to look at it. For that, he got ten hard years, a lifetime of shame, and the likely possibility of getting from any place he gets hired at, no matter how hard he works. Is that enough? Is that too much?
Those of you watching from home can fill in a pithy life lesson here.
But think about how hard life's gotta be if you wanted to fuck kids--if prepubescents caused you sexual arousal. Because, seriously, who the fuck thinks "I want to be a pedophile when I grow up"? Most sexual kinks set in before puberty. You don't get to choose what you're attracted to, though it's certainly possible to shift your orientation to some degree with a lot of hard work and dedication.
This seemingly random exploration of the uncomfortable is brought to you by my uncle, who was released from prison a year or so ago, after serving a decade for acting improperly with his own daughter. I'm not euphemizing, there--I don't know, and am not really interested in learning, what sort of improper acts he went to jail for. He's had a hard time since getting out; he has to maintain a job and a proper residence, or he has to go back. The local do-gooders in his town recently outed him in the paper as a pedophile, along with a bunch of others, so he lost his job. Dunno if he's gotten another one yet.
I'm not going anywhere with this; there's no big point I'm leading up to. Life's too complex to try and sum up with some pithy remark and a life lesson you forget in a few days--the life of a pedophile no less than any other. It simply occurred to me that, given that children don't feature in my private fantasies, maybe I dodged a bullet I didn't know about.
Lemme bring this a bit closer to home--and piss of a lot of irrational people--by comparing it to homosexuality. If you can't figure out the moral difference between homosexuality and pedophilia, feel free to post comments about how I'm an ignorant gay-basher. I'm as uninterested in your thoughts as you are in thinking. In case anybody's slow on the uptake, I'll state this clearly: same-sex relations are okay by me. Prepubescent relations are not okay by me.
With the disclaimers dispensed with: if you're born gay (as opposed to, y'know, being bitten by one), most often, you figure it out before or during puberty. Most kinks work that way--around the time hair starts sprouting in funny places, you start realizing that there's something different about you. It may take you a while to put your finger on exactly what kind of "different" you are, and maybe even longer that to start admitting it to yourself and others, but you know you don't swim upstream with the rest of the salmon. I think it's fair to assume that pedophilia works the same way. I mean, how else would someone come by perverted desires like that? Maybe my uncle caught pedophile germs off a public toilet seat? Or maybe a pedophile sneezed on him in the subway? Oh, wait, I've got it: my uncle woke up one day and decided that he wanted to go to jail for ten years and spend the rest of his life being spit on. That's gotta be it.
You don't choose what flavor of ice cream you like--just what kind of ice cream you buy. I didn't sit down when I was 13 and decide that I liked sticking my tongue down girls' throats instead of boys' throats--and petite brunette girls at that, with lots of tats and piercings, as opposed to big blondes with no body mods. I kinda doubt my uncle chose to think "damn, that's a fine piece of ass" when he looked at his daughter.
But he did choose to act on those feelings--or chose not to stop himself, however you want to look at it. For that, he got ten hard years, a lifetime of shame, and the likely possibility of getting from any place he gets hired at, no matter how hard he works. Is that enough? Is that too much?
Those of you watching from home can fill in a pithy life lesson here.
