Originally Posted: 5/19/08
"Pale eyes are watching me descend from Heaven into madness, captured in the amber of a lover's warm embrace. Neurotic to the point of making choices with my heart, I've thrown all chance at guilt away and decided to embark. Out across the sea to the Havens fogged in Gray where I will seek the power I am destined to embrace.
Trembling before the Temple, awed by Gods above their seat of power lies before my eyes...
She is all the spirits of the forest made alive, pressed to faintly glowing flesh around her sapphire eyes. She watches from the trees as my wings fold and fall apart, burned to death from my ascent too far into the sky. Kiss me by the ocean, and slip beneath the waves, dance with me out to the moon and make love in the rain. Long before the dark times came this land was yours and mine. So ride, my love, into the forest and find a place to hide.
Trembling before the Temple, awed by Gods above. Their seat of power lies before my eyes. The darkness washes over me and the country I once loved. Seizing our villages and freedoms in the night.
Dead and born again I awake to heed my people's call. We must rise for freedom before the darkness slays us all."
Am I being loud enough? Have I satisfied your curiosity? I'll be vaguely honest and admit that I'm a fraud. I've claimed all this time to be a god, but I am little more than flawed. Vindictive and uncertain of everything around me, I feel lost in all the real worlds. Yet for every wrong, real or imagined, vengeance is assured. There is a Guardian among us who's got my back.
Nothing new in all these words, its all the same old shit you've heard. You could read ahead and get a second dose, or stop here and be no worse off. My deep affinity for folk music (primarily, of course, folk metal and, more recently, folk-black metal) has left me yearning for the ability to play again. I'm seriously considering picking up the banjo. I'd like to learn the mandolin and, in my spare time, play around with Irish bagpipes, but the banjo will suffice for now. Perhaps it will serve as a kind of outlet. Creating music is something I've grown particularly fond of, and I've had no real way to do that recently, aside from the constant drumming of my fingers and the humming of tunes. Those serve mostly to annoy the people around me, which is fun but losing some of its luster lately.
I've got no patience for irritated people, so irritating them is rather counter-productive.
I'd like to thank everyone who read the last blog (you know, the 300 Pound Hypnotic Striptease) especially the people who read it and then told me they read it. That's really refreshing to hear. Most times, I'm the only one reading the things I write. It feels good to have an audience again. I realize that, to the people who picked up on everything I was saying in that little...whatever you'd call it, some of what I said came off a little harsh.
Don't worry, I'm not apologizing.
It wasn't harsh and if you interpeted it that way, well that's your perogative. What it was, was honest. I'm not about to lie to everyone and tell them that I feel things I don't. I'm a pretty detached human being, both as a defense mechanism and because sometimes its fun to fake feelings that normal people have. Other reasons abound, but I'm blissfully unaware of them. A head doctor could probably tell me what's wrong with my brain, but I'd rather not know. Its more fun to guess, and I simply adore things that are fun.
I think that maybe these blogs aren't as fun as they used to be and that's distressing. I used to read them on occasion and marvel at all the jokes I made, intentionally or not, and I derived a great sense of satisfaction at being informative, funny, and (at times) cryptic about my subject matter all in a few paragraphs. Then I got on a strange kick where things had to flow and rhyme and the blogs became more like a wierd, existential poem rather than my individual ranting and raving. I find that habit hard to break.
Also I find my anger harder to channel in a way that's amusing. Most of the time, it's just anger and that's no fun. In fact, it's the opposite of fun. It's...un-fun.
Oh, before I forget, everybody do me a favor and being masterbating right now. If enough people read this in unison maybe my balls will start to tingle. You know, like how your ears ring when someone is talking about you. It's a silly thought, but if it gets you off, its fine by me.
There aren't enough rumors about me, so I want to start one. From now on, everytime somebody mentions my name tell them I have lupis and I've moved to the Carribean to be closer to my witchdoctor. Kay? Great. Now that all the serious business is out of the way, let's move on to the wacky shit.
I was watching Maury today, for about four seconds. I watched long enough to find out that [Insert stereotypical black, dead-beat dad's name here] was, in fact, the father of [your choice of fat white girl's name]'s baby. Then both parties started shrieking and flailing impotently at one another and I was momentarily confused as to whether I was watching Maury or a debate between the Democratic Presidential Candidates. Only the fact that Maury himself doesn't resemble Anderson Cooper in any way but having gray hair brought me to the realization that I'd wasted four seconds of my life on that bullshit.
Which brings me to the issue of race. Not in the presidential election, because I think race being an issue on that stage is such a stupid idea that it isn't worth ranting about. I'm talking about race in the media and the way I see it. See, shows like Maury that stage paternity tests on supposedly dead-beat black men (most of the time, anyway) or hispanic men are playing into a stereotype that, in my opinion, has lost its appeal. I really don't care about dead beat fathers anymore, regardless of the race, and the fact that these shows are less and less convincing and use actors who are obviously scripted (badly) isn't helping matters. When I see a guy allegedly named Jerome in a three piece suit using gangster lingo that hasn't been predominant since the mid-90s, I get disinterested. I mean, for fuck's sake is Maury writing the script or do these people seriously think that the same slang used in Boyz N the Hood is still the popular ebonic speech pattern?
And yet, the show still gets ratings because people are still buying into the bullshit, especially when it isn't regular ol' white folks getting busted for denying their illegitimate kids. Of course, white people do it just as much as any race but in order for people like Al Sharpton, who makes most of his living being a racist pig, to have jobs, the media has to sell us this bullshit. We have to be convinced that race is still an enormous issue in this country.
News flash, nutbags, the Civil Rights Movement succeeded. Racism is restricted primarily to isolated incidents among people who take the shit they ear on television too seriously, and the kind of trash that gives Hitler wetdreams. The whole black and white thing is not only outplayed, but its no longer even slightly entertaining. Using it as a method of selling products or earning ratings is just a pitiful display of our lack of creativity. That's it.
Here's the reason I got on this topic: Resident Evil 5, a game I've been waiting a reasonably long period of time to play, is being pushed back because some jackass saw the trailer for it at E3 and started spouting off about how racist the game was. Of course, nobody else who saw it took that from the game, but because some shithead wants to get his name on the national news, I've got to wait even longer to play a game that, by all rights, should have been released late last year.
His reasoning? The primary protagonist, Chris Redfield, is white and the zombies that dear old Chris is blowing away throughout the trailer are black. Very black. Because the game is set somewhere in Africa, as has been the plan all along. No complaints were made when screenshots emerged on the web, nothing was said until the E3 trailer showing.
Forgive me if I get a little hostile, but are you fucking kidding me? It's not like he was spouting off catchy phrases such as "Die nigger, die!" or "Jigaboo, jigaboo, where is you? Oh, there you is! BOOM!" while he takes out the zombified trash. Not only that but Capcom, the company responsible for the entire series and, as far as most of us are concerned, the contintuation of the survival horror genre, is a Japanese company. Its not a bunch of skinheads who thought it'd be cool to spend six hours gunning down negro zombies.
But maybe its some kind of Asian conspiracy, turn the blacks and the whites against one another and watch them both commit genocide. Then, BANG, the brown people and the yellow people inherit the Earth. This is a fun scenario, but I doubt its plausibility. For one thing, what would they do with all the cars? There are only so many nice Muslim cab drivers, and everybody knows that Asians can't drive and a hispanic carpool accounts for about half their population. Pardon me, that was a little on the racist side.
How about, instead, we realize that this is just one more attempt (and one that will ultimatel fail) at forcing an issue that is long past its overdue date down our throats. That seems more in tune with the way the world works. Fucking lame.
What's your take on the situation?
Yours,
Scar Rider
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