Special: I Never Met A Serial Killer pt. 1

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far, I said I'd try my hand at Gonzo Journalism when I went to Memphis. While I didn't write much while I was actually in Memphis, I did at the airport leaving home. At this point, I have little to no idea what I was actually talking about and it is nothing like journalism at all, but it's still an interesting segment that I'd like to share with you.

What's better than packing right the first time is packing right the second. That way, you know that you didn't forget any of your important little baubles. Now, forgetting underwear and a toothbrush, well, that's what the third time is for. But after the first time, you still get that feeling of accomplishment and you know that there is another possible adventure coming your way. Not that all the little adventures that people new to flying experience aren't enough, but for someone like me you need all the adrenaline, anxiety and stress to mess with your pneumonia as possible.

To get to the point, we are sitting at Gate E4. It was 4:40 last time I saw the clock. There is a man in a black leather cap, a woman with a sweet little red head (though quite exuberant), and a plethora of fascinating suites. The black cap continually eyes me. Maybe I'm too loud about the Gay Rugby League of Australia and abortion. I don't care about being politically correct in America. It consists of people born with a naturally rebellious and hard headed spirit. If that were different, I wouldn't love my country half as much as I do. The fellow is a bit creepy, and though I seek out that kind of stuff, I know if it is potentially dangerous, to stay away. Mr. Quiet Laptop, unperturbed by my idiosyncrasies does seem a little put off by Carrot Top's activity...

I'd give you a setting, but there isn't much to say for the homely - national, mind you, airport. It's all blue, gray and black other than the splotch of purple that was once a woman and the gay tie parade. But boarding, as we tend to do with quite a lot of hub bub, was greeted by a pleasant surprise. While the sky station was rampant with tall-dark-handsomes, one particular, a bald-scarred-vitamin water-drinking-and-sadly-Fortune Magezine-reading individual did grace our gate. I was under the impression when he rushed on with the rest of the suits that he was a first classman, but found that he too was one of the guardians of the plane. As the emergency exit dwellers, we have a great and terrible responsibility to defend the lives of all other passengers in an emergency. More than just that hit me as we sat down in our seat, however. The succulent smell of humanity pierced my senses in a nearly pleasant manner. I felt close to comrades, I also felt that I was the only one on the plane that held such feelings.

Even as we buckled ourselves tightly in and I watched the foily wings of the plane wobble at our side, I wasn't struck by that adventurous satisfaction that I was lookig for. Up in the air, the lights of the city were a short lived delight, and so was the shallow blue horizon as it faded to black. All that remains is the hope that Mr. Fortune Magezine will live up to his interesting face.

... Meh, he's a Sprite-filled conversationalist. Should've sat next to the leather cap.

Eighth of le Teens: I have to be ORGANIZED?

I was reading about how to write a good blog a couple minutes ago. Most of it was very simple; nothing seemed too mind boggling or unusual. Until the nice lady said that my blog should be organized. It should have a THEME. and I thought, the crap, do I have a theme? Even the name of my blog is meaningless. I s'pose most of my posts are personal happenings and my thoughts on them, but really, is it even very accessible to people who don't know me? Well, I've decided that I should make a change, if only just a slight one.

From now on, my blog is a personal philosophy blog. If I ever deviate from that and somehow you see it, please slap me.

I also read that to have readers, you have to read stuff. Why hadn't I thought of that before? Of course, I read blogspot stuff, but have I rarely comment... I'm hardly known at all outside my little cube. My blog is basically a journal that I allow people to read. That's NOT what it's supposed to be. -__- So, I think I've already failed at my new mission of having a solely philosophical blog. Meh. I'll start next post.

Or maybe I can start right now!

I think the perfect government would be a Christian anarchy. Though, my perception of what that would be and what it would actually be is probably quite different. It's the way God probably imagined the world to begin with: people having complete freedom, but being told to follow His laws. It's freaking PERFECT. Even for those who don't follow His laws, because only God can deal out judgment. Everyone's freaking happy. Well, accept for those murdered by the crazies that always pop up in anarchies, but who's paying attention? I imagine some kind of semi-perfect post-apocalyptic, high tech world with a desert setting. Towns scattered throughout a nation filled to the brim with good intentioned people doing whatever they like and God taking the law into his own hands whenever someone wants to step out of line and rob a bank or kill someone. Or some kind of God-fearing vigilante will appear like a wild west super hero and rid the dusty utopia of any villainy! Doesn't that sound sweet? *day dreams*

Heaven will be something like that too. Plus an oasis of beaches and mountains for those who aren't into the desert scene.

The thang I read earlier also said that I should ask questions at the end of my blogs so people have something to comment about, soooooo. What do you think about Christian anarchy? Or for that matter, anarchy at all?

17: Hmm...

So, I could write this post on a lot of different things, but Tom Waits has been occupying most of my thoughts lately, so maybe if he's the topic, I'll be able to move on. If you dislike Tom Waits, you can get out now.

Bad As Me. But I'm sure if you know me at all, you've already heard all about it. No? Well, he's releasing a new album, the first completely new one in EIGHT YEARS. It's coming out on October 25th. I'm... for lack of a better word, ecstatic. And I hope to see him in concert whenever he tours. They always tour when an album's released, right? Right? He better tour. -___-

Well, I didn't have nearly enough to say about Tom. I mean, I could rant about his fantasticalamazingliness, but that would go against everything about him. Understate the important things and give the silly little things a little too much attention. Makes you think about the reason that he only has two Christian songs. Hm, perhaps he thinks it's too important an issue to cover with his fanciful songs too often? Or maybe I'm just blowing smoke.

Okie dokie, new topic.... hrm, hrm, hrm. Oh, le beach. When you're at the beach, does it seem like the people far off, that you can't even see, are louder than the ones beside you that you're trying to talk to? It's as if there are one of those cheeky sound current things that they have in the capitol building. Or that it's impossible to have an important conversation of any kind? It always seems to mellow out, even if it starts off serious. And there are only stupid attractive people or smart, chubby, families... It's absolutely dreadful. It's hard to find interesting people. Even I lose all my interesting characteristics when I go to the beach. Only the super eccentrics, like the yellow dancing homeless man, seem unusual. Unusual in a healthy way, mind you. Everyone else is just dull. -__-

What else can I be overly dramatic about? Hm. Well, I'm very patriotic, it seems. After chatting with a Aussie for a while, I've come to the conclusion that I actually care about my country and it's well being. And even more, I like it. I LIKE my country. It's my favorite one, actually. We've got Cowboys, the Moon, Hollywood, hillbillies, Thanksgiving, buffalo, New York, over populated prisons, a bad economy, oodles of CO2 emitions, crazy politics, a smidge of every kind of religion you can imagine and I love it all! We gotta be the greatest country of all time. I am proud to be a United Statesian. Er, American. =D

Are you patriotic about your country? Why or why not?