Passive Depressive #154
July 3, 2008
Passive Depressive #153
July 1, 2008
Beats Entropy: Inappropriate Comment scale.
June 25, 2008
While talking to my associates over tacos, I accidentally mixed my metaphors[1] and declared “I feel as unwanted as a Black Step Child”. While funny, the hostile glares it garnered from our fellow dinners suggested it may have been a tad inappropriate. The next day at work, while reading this article, about a 7′3 sex offender, I commented “wow, I bet that guy could molest 3 kids at once”. I was not endorsing the morality of his vile deed, I was merely marvelling over the efficiency with which he could execute them[2]. My boss suggested this was less than appropriate workplace commentary.
In both cases my intentions were pure, but my judgement was flawed. If only there had been some means of weighing the potential negative impact of a given statement; some standards to measure against. Then I thought “hey… I have supercomputer capable of ranking subjective things in a absolute manner[3], why don’t I lay it down for my childrens”.
So here ya go: The Beats Entropy: Inappropriate Comment scale.
Keep in mind these statements are not intentionally malicious, rather they are progressively ill considered.
For the Geeks: NSFW
June 23, 2008
A friend and fellow geek passed this along to me and I had to share it with the rest of you, it begins a bit slow, but rest assured it is well worth the watch.
What follows is a brilliant short, dramatizing the adventures of small group playing Dungeons and Dragons, reunited after some time…
I would like to dedicate this mildly offensive, crass, and particularly base video post to the memory of George Carlin - who fucking rocked.
Passive Depressive
June 17, 2008
I’m powerless
June 14, 2008
Not before the eyes of an unknowable god; we have an understanding. Rather, Ottawa Hydro shut off my electricity. There were vauge claims made towards unpaid bills, hurtful words were exchanged, night descended. The nonpayment was the result of my limited conception of time, and lacking a key to my mailbox, as opposed to some financial insolvency.
My usual reminder to pay the bill comes in form of red pamphlet, hammered into my door with a railroad spike, to the effect of: “Pay yo’ bill cracka…we will cut you”. I then pay my bill. On this particular occasion they cut straight to the end game and stoneaged me without warning…a direct violation of our unspoken covenant. In protest I ate cereal, alone, in the dark…then lay down on what I hope was my bed.
Letter Day, 014: Vampyrrhic victory
June 12, 2008
I know been gone baby, but I’ve been in your hearts (and in some cases homes) all the while. I Ain’t got time for excuses, and I’m running low on ink, so let’s get down to business.
************
Where the hell have you been? What are you doing? Why haven’t you posted? Do you not feel some responsibility to your readers?
About a half dozen people
The Internets
In Order: Round about’s, not a whole lot, creative back pressure, a little.
***********
I am an aspiring writer. How do you keep your edge?
Justin Martin
You break off little pieces down the line until the sides are almost touching.
Passive Depressive #152
June 12, 2008
Passive Depressive #151
June 10, 2008
Passive Depressive #150
June 5, 2008
Passive Depressive #149
June 3, 2008
A curious omission: Part 2
May 30, 2008
There were three killers in my freshman class: two soldiers, and a hobbyist. The hobbyist hung himself in jail; the soldiers died in non consecutive incidents of friendly fire. I can’t help but think the hobbyist had the more successful life; if nothing else he had control and purpose. The soldiers just were until they weren’t. This makes me feel unpatriotic. As does my lack of patriotism. There should be a word for wanting to have pride in something: maybe wan…tide. Wantide: that works, like a tide too weak to reach the shore. I’ve been walking for hours, why can’t I find my house?
Passive Depressive #148
May 29, 2008
A curious omission: Part 1
May 28, 2008
I don’t know if it was the smoking, or the nagging, that finally killed me. I’d like to think it was the smoking: there had been a slow burn suicide pact between us, and it’d be nice to have held up my end of the bargain. Either way my body quit, ran down like a rotted clock in the rain, leaving me little in the way of prospects.
The first difficulty, in situations such as mine, is what to do with the body. A corpse, unlike a person, always belongs to someone; it cannot be ignored. Discovery alone suffices investment, and creates a negative ownership pressure that must be addressed. With this in mind I awaited some resolution. Read the rest of this entry »
