Birds

So my brain is being strange. It really isn't a good time for it.

Humming bird.

I find it surprising that I could grow to the age of eighteen without ever really finding out who I am.

Crow.

It's funny. When humans get fixated on death, we are told to 'get out of our dark mood'. Why? Because we can't alter something bad we should ignore it, or pretend it is actually good?

Sparrow.

I can't be bothered trying to stop myself from behaving strangely. Think = do. I just don't care.

Owl.

I think I'll take a long trip to somewhere far away.

Pelican.

I need an answer to my questions, because questions are born into a person. We're two things. A bundle of chemical reactions that take place in a self perpetuating cycle, and questions. Endless questions.

Penguin.





Humans are mammals. Of the order of primate.

There is only one species of human left.

I wonder what happened to the rest?

Bullies Are Such Wonderful People

It's the strangest thing.
It's the loveliest string,
Of thought in my mind,
Of someone very unkind.

Let's push him.
Let's throw him.
Lets knock him around.
Let's tease her.
Let's taunt her.
Let's have our insults resound.

So thinking of torment,
Like, wine in a ferment.
Stuck in its wooden cask,
Where it should be in a flask.

We are the teachers of the freaks
We shall fix all of societies leaks
If they can learn to stop being strange,
If their different ways they can learn to change,


If they can learn to be strong men, that can do the things we do.
Or if they can learn to be pretty girls, that can see our point of view,

Then perhaps we will stop our harassment
That would surely end our discontent.

But till then, the world, it needs to understand and see,
That the existence of these people makes us unhappy.

Ahem

Swearing is very fun
But if you are not careful
You'll get in trouble

My brain hurts a lot
Maybe I have brain cancer
And I'll die of it

I once knew a guy
He had way too many teeth
They pulled them out

I have more money
If you have a mortgage
than you, in a way

I see an hobo
He smells of great vileness
But he seems happy

The word that is said
By Mary Poppins does not
Fit in an haiku

An honest man will
Tell you that you look very fat
Do you want that lady?

I have a red knife
It is extremely sharp now
Soon it will be blunt

I have dark brown hair
But my girlfriend has blonde hair
Diversity, bitch

Tiger balm is great
But if you get it in eyes
Screaming then ensues

Some people think that
I am reasonably mad
I mostly think not

God help you sir, lady,
If you can't write an haiku
I can, so screw you.

How To: Trip Out Like A Joel.

Things you will need:

A computer with internet access, and a dark room to put it in.

Sound blocking earphones. (Not totally necessary)

Steps:

1) Find a very auto-tuned annoying pop song, and search its name, plus "800% slower" into youtube. Here's one I've prepared for you.

Ke$ha - TiK ToK (800% slower)

2) Next, find a video of humpback whales singing on youtube. One just like this.

Humpback Whale Singing

3) plug in your earphones if you have them, if not, then it doesn't really matter. Some people prefer loud speakers anyway.

4) Next search for "optical illusion" into google images. Here's one I found for you.

5) Turn off all the lights, play both of the videos at the same time, stare at the weird spinny green thing, and feel you brain melt.

CAUTION: If At any time you feel headachy or sick, stop. Also, if you have epilepsy or have epileptic fits, you really should know better you silly bugger.

Why, Of Course You Are Dear

Science fiction is reality functioning for man to very great effect, fantasy is reality ceasing to function for man to very great effect.

I might go into further depth about this later, but for now I need to read, eat, sleep and pray. Cheerioh.

Tale Tail Tied Together

I was going make this post about why I hate someone with long blonde hair and a big nose, and then I was going to make this post about why I love someone else with even longer blonde hair, (and a very cute nose) but realized that ranting about why I love or hate people would be really annoying. I saw both of those people today by the way.

So I'm just going to write a poem, and you don't have to read it, and it shall be most likely terrible, but hey, at least I'll enjoy it.



If I were to stand in a spotlight,
You wouldn't see me more,
If I snuck up you to give a fright,
To you it would only bore.

To dance in the sun
Is so very much fun.
To dance in the moon
Only means you're a loon.

I dream of the time when you loathed me,
I dream of the time we were friends,
But only real people, and not ones in my head,
Really have beginnings and ends.

I dream of you my former ally,
I dream and dream, and know not why.
I dream of cold nights when we saw each other,
I dream of warm ones when you were barely there.
I dream of the time my face you tried to smother,
I dream of the kill that to make you couldn't bare.

But I killed you.
You knew how it had to go.
I altogether forgot you.
In cold drifts of memory's snow.

If it were the other way,
I would have cut you down,
If it were you who had to stay,
I would have stole your crown.

You know me,
I know you,
The way that we were.
Young boys that could climb trees, and forever,
We would dream of her.

The Venusian Storm

On Venus the rain never stops.

It only rains.

The water falls down out of the sky, the ground soaks it up. It's insatiable thirst drinks more, more, more of the unending storm.

For years, centuries, millennia it rains. Then after that, with no sign of stopping, it rains more. The strange rubbery plants are bleached white with the downpour, weird and sticky, seemingly without life, but that they grow ever taller, the rain falling through the twisting white canopy of the forest in a drowning torrent.

On and on and on it rains. The milky clouded sky splits with blue lightening, then the thunder follows after with a crash of angry elements. Day comes in whitened bitterness, night comes in sad remorseless grey. The sun is unseen, only a brightening in the uniform sky marks the passage of time.

But regardless of the time of day, or the month of the Venusian year, or the amount of hope you have left.

It will rain.

E-Books Are Our Friends

Why does everyone hate e-books?

Okay. I get it. You like the good ol' fashioned the-way-grandpa-used-to-read book. That's fine. You like the touch of them. You like the feel. You like real paper under your fingers.

I like vinyl. I like the smell of the old records, I like the crackle as the sound comes out of my Dad's old speaker. I like the beautiful black colour of the records. I like putting them on the turn table and watching them spin. But I tell you something.

I can't fit a turntable, a record, or a big old speaker in my pocket. I can, however, fit an iPhone loaded with mp3 files into my pocket. I can't fit my whole bookcase into my pocket. Hell, I can't even fit Ray Bradbury's 'The Illustrated man' into my pocket. In a pinch I might just be able to squeeze my copy of 'Call of Cthulhu' in there. But I can fit an iPhone into my pocket, packed with e-books. Ray Bradbury, H. P Lovecraft, Terry Pratchett, Neil Gaiman, they go with me everywhere now.

The turntable and the vinyls are not bad. Neither is my book case.

However, just because they are new and challenging does not mean e-books are bad either.

I mean, in the end, I love Ray Bradbury. I love his words. Not the substance they were printed on. The paper of 'Call of Cthulhu' isn't why I fell in love with H.P Lovecraft, I love him for his ideas.

Why can't we just have both? Stop bullying new ideas. It's not a new idea. Ask Thomas Watt.

Jar

I've always wanted to make a mini ecosystem. A few leaf beetles, some worms, dirt, a plant, rocks on the base, sprayed liberally with water, all put into an air and water-tight jar, and left in the sun. Theoretically, if the jar is truly air tight, it isn't disturbed, and the plant doesn't get too big, it should need absolutely nothing but sunlight.

The water, air and food should all recycle themselves indefinitely in the jar.

Sometimes I wish I could live in that little jar. The world crumbles away outside the glass, and the jar is floating in space with only the sun shining down on it.

Citizen Of The World

Why the hell should I care if something is unAmerican? I'm not American, I'm Australian, and if I'm not patriotic about my own country, why the hell would you expect me to be patriotic about yours? I hate patriotism, it's one step off nationalism, which is essentially narcism, xenophobia and racism rolled together and given a pretty wrapper.

Bears Are Illogical

If I were a bear, I would eat lots of things and never do anything. I would not fight for territory. Because I'm a bear. I would not fight for difficult prey. Because I'm a bear. I would eat slow things, and fish, and run to somewhere sunny and do nothing. Yes.

Always Take Into Consideration You Might Be Dead Wrong

Not too long ago, people knew that the way mice bred was spontaneously through the leaving around of bits of rags and that likewise rotten meat bred maggots.

Not too long ago, people knew that the sun revolved around the earth.

Not too long ago, people knew that women were less intelligent than men.

Not too long ago, people knew that traveling at speeds beyond 60 miles per hour would never be possible.

Not too long ago, people knew that smoking was harmless.

What do you know?

Location:The Batcave

Abyss

To be aware of something, and to be awake to something, is to fear it.

This Again.

People are complex things. Some people are smart, and some people are dumb. Its true. But where we fail in our surmise of people is, as always, in assumption.

As I say, sometimes folk are just plain stupid. However, more often than not it is the case that a person we believe is stupid is in fact highly intelligent in an unconventional way.

For example, there are academic intelligences and emotional intelligences. A person may not have a great grasp and knowledge of literature. However, that same person may have a great intuitive understanding of people, how to speak to them, how to relate.

Multifaceted intelligence is a thing that is difficult to measure.

I've said this before, and I'll say it again, people are complicated.

Well, Sort Of.

"The greatest thing about tattoos is that when they stop being funny they go away."

- Katie Prior

Location:The Flat

Struggle

We grapple.

It's slippery.

I grasp it in my hands, awkwardly, but firmly.

I gain the upper hand.

It shrieks.

It wraps it's limbs around my neck to strangle me.

I can't breath

It screams like a tortured baby.

I squeeze it.

It throws its limbs against me.

I squeeze more tightly.

If I do not breath soon, I shall suffocate.

It whips my hair, face and chest painfully with it's barbed appendages.

I squeeze harder, harder.

And with a last high pitched squeal, it pops.

Like a tyre.

I take in a knife of air to my starving lungs.

It's dead. Very dead.

I peal it off my neck slowly.

Pock, pock, pock, that is the sound of it's suckers coming free of my skin.

I begin to eat my prize.

That's Not A Knife

"At my high school, if someone was carrying a knife, they would have a huge lockdown. At college, it's just like, 'oh yeah that's Joel'"

We Put Effort In To Be Stupid

I saw a note on Facebook. It was one of those, "Answer these questions to yourself because you are so bored"

It was entitled, "Born to be someone <3"

What exactly is that supposed to mean? That you are born to be someone IMPORTANT, or just someone? Because everyone is someone. That to me highlighted how dumb Facebook, that is the people who are Facebook, can be.

Does no one thinks about how dumb that is? No one? It's literally Nonsensical gibberish that sounds nice.

You know what else is stupid? The song, "what the world needs now is love"
The singer tells God, the God who knows everything, what it is she feels the world needs. Not clean water, not more resources, not more crops and food, no. What our vastly overpopulated world needs apparently is 'love' i.e more human breeding.

Genius.

Oh Dear

I hate it when people that I respect read my blog. I'm a good person really!

Complicated.

Being a human is complicated and overrated. We're abominations.

We, of all beings, are an hybrid of flesh and soul, all others are either wholly flesh or wholly spirit. The beings of God's ultimate reality are wholly spirit, and the other beings of this one are wholly flesh. We have a presence in both spirit and body.

A body can live without a soul, and a soul can live without a body. They do. The soul's impact upon our flesh is, despite what many might say, very minimal. However these connected pieces are one of the things that makes us very unusual animals.

The plan of God to make a hybrid creature, that was to be made in his image, is perhaps one of the reasons why his then archangel decided to become his adversary. The very idea of it, if one is not used to it, is unsettling.

The purpose of humanity, in my opinion, is to be the bride if God. However, this is a very human thing to think. There is no simple answer. The universe is so incredibly complex that any kind of attempt to define it's meaning will be met with failure.

Location:The Batcave, my bedroom

What We Do

No sole action defines a person.

The things that define us are the things we do every day, the things that we barely think about. The things that define us are most probably attitude. If you think that you are a pilot, and you do the sorts of things pilots do i.e fly planes, you probably are one. If you think you are a slut, and you sleep around a lot, you probably are. If you think you are an artist, and you make art frequently, you probably are. Of you you play music and think you are a musician... Ect ect.

Because in truth, these words mean nothing. We are people. People do things. We work jobs we hate, we forget things, we think about the weekend. We are all the same really. Some of us feel more strongly about certain things, and spend our time working tirades different destinations, but really, there is no difference.

Everybody has got to do something.

We are our experiences. Do what you want to be, or become.

Perspective

It's funny,

I think to myself "I'm so awful".

I'm shallow, I'm lazy, I'm a thief, I don't believe in anything.

Then I see someone so much worse.

Or then I was thinking,

I'm angry, I'm full of hate, I'm incapable of mundane cooperation.

Then I see someone so much worse.

It's all a matter of perspective I suppose. Doesn't make me any better, just makes me feel better.