As I Was Walking...

... I thought I saw the ghost of Michael Jackson calling out to me the other day. Turned out to be a dead raccoon and the sound I heard was two sparrows mating midflight while the metal gates creaked open to let me through security, whom is staffed by one of the hottest women I've seen in a long time. I'm tempted to yoink some sticks just to see what might happen.

The amount of news covering Michael Jackson always bothered me. I find it disturbing how in the end, someone can have ani-morphed into something completely opposite of what they used to be, but then when they die turn into some sort of iconic new media God even if its only for a minimum amount of time on the news, but lets face it, the average american attention span isn't very long at all, so the media need to be fast at whatever they do. I keep seeing stuff in papers or on TV about paraphenalia and other shit collectibles like old discs that people stopped buying 10 years ago, but they think people might want now. Or stamps. MJ stamps. Wow. Really? It's enough to make you want to punch a chicken, but don't punch it too much, lest it summon angry hordes of nigh-indestructible demonspawn of feathers after you.

Even if all the proceeds from these sales go directly to charities that help starving monkeys in Africa, retarded goat children in Checkohungarslavialand or to feed the mongol hordes that have recently taken over the Moon, the fact doesn't change that organizations are capitalizing on MJ's death. His DEATH. IF they tried to suddenly hype shit for no reason when he was alive, none of it would've sold. His death brought this about, this sudden spark of renewed interest in albums that fell off the top "charts" over a decade ago. No disrespect to the "King of Pop", more like a cucumber in the eye of the morons who elevated death into some sort of glorified state of animated magnificence all by itself for the news.

http://www.xkcd.com/610/ We're all so damn unique, it's frighteningly normal.

I had a dream that Zack Fair was a praying Mantis and Cloud Strife was some sort of aphid and were duking it out inside of one of those little plastic baubles out of 25c coin machines with some near useless piece of melted plastic that is supposed to resmble a toy inside. They both used the same sword, so it was hard to tell them apart, but one of them started to cast a 30 minute long summon sequence upon which my brain promptly fell asleep. INSIDE the dream.

The glass is either half-full or half-empty, but mine has a crack in it and I'm pissed about that.

A near angry neanderthal, possibly Scottish, shouted "UNLEASH YO RAGE" once and it made me wonder how a human being can 'bottle' up their rage to the point where it might need be 'unleashed'. The funny thing about anger is if you let it out in a steady trickle, it not only makes other people intimidated (annoyed) by your presence, you never feel full of rage at all. Plus anger is a very useful tool that can be used in your day-to-day transactions. I've seen angry people do all sorts of amazing things, from killing armies, to killing armies of undead demon things, to ripping people apart with their extra invisible hands. See what I mean? Death in the media. Gaw!!!

Speaking of death: I want to die doing a flaming Barrel Roll while flinging sharpened mullosc shells like ninja stars at a gaggle of Blizzard employees while the 1812 overture roars in the background. If you're going to go out, go out with a Bang. Or an Explosion.

Or a barrel roll

My novel is off the shelf and back into the Typewriter. Future updates as events warrant.