Rituals.

I must say, I'm terribly disappointed. I mean, seriously? Considering how many seasons Stargate SG -1 lasted (which was probably one or two too many), I understand why Stargate : Atlantis struggled with story lines. I understand why perhaps they might have chosen to end as early as they did, even though they certainly had the potential to last as long. But I suspect they stabbed themselves in the foot. Now, I certainly can't put my finger on the exact moment when it all went wrong. But I have a suspect in mind. For me, personally, my disappointment began with the Michael storyline. It seemed inevitable, and yet, I wished it had never come. I think it set the show on it's downward path. Well, I guess I did put my finger on the moment, although, as I said, only for me personally. I guess what I have trouble with is how it's gone wrong. Remember, inevitable, but regrettable. And this last season? Tragic. They've made, as I see it, two mistakes. Two threads that I desp...

Some personal favorites. According to Einstein's theory of relativity, Chuck Norris can actually roundhouse kick you yesterday. Chuck Norris destroyed the periodic table. Because Chuck Norris only recognizes the element of surprise. When Chuck Norris falls in water, Chuck Norris doesn't get wet. Water gets Chuck Norris. Some kids piss their name in the snow. Chuck Norris can piss his name into concrete. Chuck Norris' calendar goes straight from March 31st to April 2 nd ; no one fools Chuck Norris. Chuck Norris counted to infinity - twice. Chuck Norris' tears cure cancer. Too bad he has never cried. Once, while having sex in a tractor-trailer, part of Chuck Norris' sperm escaped and got into the engine. We now know this truck as Optimus Prime. Chuck Norris was originally cast as the main character in 24, but was replaced by the producers when he managed to kill every terrorist and save the day in 12 minutes and 37 seconds. Chuck Norris can speak braille. If you spel...

I am the bride’s head Severed from the body I live in the future, Where science cannot follow And I seek out the prophetic god The one who’s seen it all I ask for his hand in marriage And he gives me my own (even though I had left it behind) So I reject him For he gave me what I already had I continue traveling the distant path In a small clearing I come upon a witch (She has a sugar house) Seated on a stool in the front yard Tending a burning, boiling, black pot Snacking on a child’s bones I am the bride’s head, hesitating So she asks me what I want “A place in the sun.” And she laughs The wolf, who is the moon, has eaten it And it will not be back till it rises over the horizon The end of night Which she assures me will never come As long as I am looking at the world through my own eyes I ask to borrow hers She screams And cowers in her house Licking her fingers clean I cry, a single tear, (I was misunderstood) And continue on my way The woods play tricks on my eyes as ...

I've been busy. I mean, I've actually been busy. So naturally, I've gotten nothing done. Night.

Pulling Teeth. Seriously, pulling teeth.

I'm suffocating. This was the one job I did not want to do again. I never wanted it in the first place. And now, here I am in khakis and a collared shirt. I feel like I'm choking. Literately as well, because I hate these cheap, crappy shirts with giants collars that swallow your neck. The sleeves are annoying too. But at least they had my size. Man, this sucks. And I know, be grateful for what I have. And I am, I swear. I'd just be more grateful if I got something else. And I know, there's no rule against looking for another job while I have this one. But who are we kidding, we're talking about me. I imagine that everyday after work, I'm just going to come home, kick off my shoes, rip off my shirt, and veg in front of the TV until I drag myself to bed, and then drag myself out of it in the morning, and start all over. : raspberry : Man. I have to go.

Stuff. Crap. Whatever.

How about instead of having celebrities tell us who to vote for, or tell us to support the person they support, or suggest we're stupid for not agreeing with them, how about we just have celebrities who tell us their opinion and then tell us to form our own? Wouldn't that be revolutionary? And I suppose there are many out there who would want it to go a step further, skipping the part where celebrities tell us their opinion at all. But, for me, it really doesn't matter whether celebrities speak or not. I wish more would speak intelligently, but that's my personal opinion. It'd also be nice to have celebrities who are famous for skill and talent, rather than being famous for being famous. But then, I'm not a celebrity, so I doubt any one's going to listen to my opinion anyway. Anyway, I just don't feel it's very responsible to say "Vote...but only for who I tell you." More like "Do some research. Then vote." Although, I'd have ...

Minimum wage in Michigan is $7.40 an hour. Figuring to work 40 hours a week, figuring taxes to be about a third of your income, an individual is expected to make less than $800 a month. The average, decent apartment (and this is probably a conservative estimate) in Grand Rapids is about $500 a month. For one bedroom. How, exactly, is a person supposed to live on $300 a month? I mean, I'm sure some people out there have figured out how, have managed to stretch their dollars. But considering the cost of utilities, phones, gas, etc., how exactly is one supposed to eat? What does someone do in an emergency? I mean, think of it, car registration and insurance in Michigan is required. Registration, for a one inch sticker to place on your license plate is about $80. If, after rent, you only have $300 a month, and you're already stretching that to the brink, where is $80 supposed to come from? It's paralyzing to think that one person cannot, or barely, survive on a full-time job. A...

I am down the watership sinking my body has failed my mind I am tethered my feet are buried in the earth while my mind seeks the wind to fly, a kite on the breeze and gone gravity perplexes me, that it will not cooperate when I ask so politely to lift above the air the tarpits grab my thoughts with metal, bone, flesh-stripped claws, existed a thousand years waiting for these words I will never say, buried in my mental grave pointless sticks, I stab myself I do not bleed I court the other side, the yellow lines crossed, flirting with the disaster that never comes, tempted by metal smiles and varnish that drives away I covet the heights, my gods, the temples others built for other creatures I shall never meet, and I see the end, the edge of the world rushing towards me with the speed of the sunset I am forbidden in these places, rejected by the society I do not, never, seek Regret, this constant companion the voice of the republic whispers through the dark shadows of a house I cannot lea...