Type Much?

La marche

2009-08-31T20:44:00.003-04:00

Marche. Tranquillement, lentement et sans hésitation, elle marche. Un pas devant l'autre, le droit, le gauche, le droit encore. Devant, des champs de blé, de l'or liquide qui ondule en vagues frémissantes sous le vent qui coule. Elle marche.

Elle porte une légère robe violette avec un motif de papillon, et un coquelicot en son sein, fiché dans le tissu. Elle l'a ramassé par-delà les collines, là-bas dans le lointain où ils vivent en communes. Celui-ci est un peu défraichi, mais a gardé sa couleur rouge sang qu'elle affectionne tant. Sous ses sandales pêches, le sol défile. Un chemin de terre battue, bronzé de soleil, accompagné de pépites de roche comme des boutons sur une peau déjà rêche, la précède.

Elle marche. Cela fait longtemps qu'elle marche. Des dunes blanches à la mer azurée, de l'aurore au crépuscule brûlé, sur pavés de pierres irrégulières et de bonnes intentions, elle marche. De temps en temps, elle ralentit pour arranger ses cheveux. Des cheveux châtains qui jouent avec les rayons de soleil, projetant lumière et ombre comme autant de rêves fugaces. Ses yeux regardent l'horizon, emplis d'espoir sous ses longs cils et ses paupières qui battent, qui battent comme ses pas, son coeur, régulier et sans arrière-pensée.

Cela fait longtemps que je l'observe. Je marche avec elle, mais derrière, et je la regarde parce qu'elle est belle. Trop belle et trop déterminée pour être arrêtée, pour être approchée. Je me content de humer le parfum de sa peau que m'apporte la brise, comme une effluve du paradis. Il me frôle la joue comme une caresse, et je baise sa silhouette du regard.

Soudain, elle s'arrête. C'est la première fois que je n'entends pas le rythme de ses pas. Elle se retourne, me dévisage, me sourit. Le temps se fige et moi aussi. Elle me fait signe, ses yeux pétillent, sort du chemin et je la suis. L'océan d'épis s'ouvre devant nous et se referme, nous enveloppe et nous prend en lui.

Je la prend en lui. Je suis elle et elle est moi, et le coquelicot nous unit. Je dévore sa bouche et respire ses cheveux, l'albâtre de sa peau frissonne et je frémis. Le murmure du vent courre pendant que le soleil nous épie. Nous restons comme ça longtemps durant un court moment.

Je suis sur le bord du chemin, mais elle dessus. Elle a rejoint son vieil ami. Un épi de blé est fiché en son sein, gerbe d'or sur fond de pureté, elle l'ajuste et elle sourit. Elle me regarde et ses prunelles me transpercent, je tombe dans leur puit et il m'engloutit.

Elle marche. Tranquillement, lentement et sans hésitation, elle marche. Devant, le serpentin de la route continue à l'infini. Elle le connaît bien et le suit. Les nuages jouent à saute-mouton sur un ciel diapré par le soleil des vêpres, jets de couleurs entrelacés dans un amour éphémère. Le visage buriné du chemin la précède, comme il l'a toujours fait, et le fera toujours. Sur son bord, un coquelicot fâné, écarlate mais fatigué, la regarde s'éloigner et ne la voit plus. Elle marche sur le fil du Temps, sans hâte et sans tourments, car elle a l'éternité. Elle est partie, alors qu'un coquelicot se meurt et pleure ses dernières gouttes de rosée. C'est la Vie.

An imaginary will.

2008-05-12T06:37:00.002-04:00

A will.

There are many reasons to live. Some seem more futile than the others. In the end however, it all broils down to Nature trying to perpetuate itself by making the different species procreate, one way or the other.

Life is a chain of events, one after the other, without a pause in between. Each and every one of us experiences it, and no matter how we try to shape it, it still continues with the same global pattern. We're like small little electrons flowing, sometimes left, sometimes right, without a knowledge of what's outside the wire.

Fortunately, it can be stopped.

Will.

I lost the will to love. As a person growing up reading books from the French 19th century, Love with a capital L had always exercised a fascination on me. It came with a fair share of pain, but as Victor Hugo said, dying of love is also living off of it. ... A person is like a bar of iron. Some are more malleable than others, more adaptive. Some are stronger, colder. However, with enough strikes of the hammer, both can be forged into something. If the different blows have been given with too much force but no direction, the bar ends up being crooked and can serve no purpose. I feel broken down. Broken and cold and there is no turning back. If the iron is still hot, there is still hope mistakes can be corrected. If the iron is cold, it is too late. Blows after blows, I lost the will to love. I am cold and it is too late.

I lost the will to believe. I believed in people. As much as I sometimes despise the crowd and the herd mentality, I believed in humanity. I trusted each individual person was, in the end, someone good. We all feel the same emotions, the same happiness, the same pain. We can all understand each other. Perhaps I was wrong. I don't believe anymore. In fact, that's not true... I don't give a shit anymore. Who cares if people can be "human". People are way too human. We are the only beings that can cause that much pain in others. We will knowingly torture plants, animals, and fellow humans. Each individual can feel the sufferance being caused, but it doesn't mean one will stop causing it. And now, I don't care anymore, don't want to know whether everything is true. I lost the will to believe. I don't care and it is too late.

I lost the will to befriend. Friendship is another form of love, without the exclusivity, the physical attirance. I thought love was ephemeral but friendship was eternal. I think I am wrong in both cases. There is a saying about how affection is infinite. The more you love, you more you will. There is always a place in your heart. What happens though when the ones inside your heart tear it up from the inside? ... I was once told that falling in love is like rolling down a hill. The feeling is great but at some point it has to stop. Friendship however is like climbing the same hill. It's harder, but every time you stop and look in the distance, the view gets better. I believed that. But a climber isn't eternally one. A lot of these hills have "Do not trespass" signs. I lost the will to befriend. I am tired and it is too late.

Those made me who I was. I wanted to love, to believe, to care. I feel I've been wrong for all three. There is no more "want" in me. When Pandora opened her box and all the evils of the world escaped, Hope remained. When there is no more hope, death remains.

To my sister I give a world. I give her my laughters and my folly and the joy that was me.

To my family I give my money. The few material possessions and the numbers they so need to make the ones they care for happy.

To my friends I give my heart. The place where I held you dear and kept you company.

To the laydees I give my memories. The time shared and the unaccomplished dreams.

To the China doll I give the rest. I would want to give you everything but there is only so much I can give.

To the world I give beliefs. A trace of me soon to be lost.

And thus it ends. I have no will anymore, this is the will.

Goodbye.

L'hypocrisie de ma poésie frôle l'hérésie

2008-03-02T22:26:00.002-05:00

Je me suis assis, au pied d'un arbre. Un petit vent sifflotait à travers les branches, ébouriffant mes cheveux, les feuilles. L'herbe ondule, des ombres mouvantes coulant à travers elle.

Dans le lointain, les montagnes. Pics bleutés, incertains. Un brouillard s'entêtait à y rester, comme de la ouate en train de s'effilocher. Et le ciel... Le ciel y faisait contraste, une ligne déchiquetée de part en part, d'un bleu pur, limpide. Cette immensité qui nous sert de couvre-chef, que l'on a toujours essayé d'atteindre, pour finalement y arriver, mais à quoi bon? Je ne sais pas. L'homme semble courir, courir toujours, courir encore, et ne jamais arriver. Alors que l'on est si bien, au pied d'un arbre.

Je regarde en haut de moi. Encore là, un toit. Un enchevêtrement inextricable de branches et de feuilles, le vert et le brun partant en jets, comme sous les pinceaux d'un artiste en colère. La petite touche de jaune ici, le reflet de la lumière là. Chaque feuille bruisselle sous le vent, petite tâche de peinture, pointillisme parfait et changeant.

Je suis une branche du regard. Ses extrémités fondent, l'une dans l'émeraude ensoleillée, l'autre dans un brun veiné de ridules interminables, tarabiscotées. Je sens la vie à l'intérieur, les fourmis qui s'agitent et se précipitent, la sève nourricière qui monte et descend.

...

Don't you wish you could manipulate time? Go explore infinite possibilities. Or at least, go back to a past you miss. ... I wish I could be a child again. Children explore infinite possibilities, regardless of their environment. Children are spontaneous. And most of all... when I was a child, I knew how to write.

It seems writer's block is only something that happens to adults. Because adults.. don't live. It's not hard to understand. When you wake up to go to work and come back home to be able to sleep and wake up the next morning, you do not live. When you don't have the time, or don't take the time to experience something new, you don't live. When you become too bitter, too confident to notice each and every subtlety, you don't live. When you're too stressed to think and be yourself, you don't live. When you don't live, you cannot write.

Words used to speak. Each word, each syllable had a personality, and it would play with you and with each other. I didn't need to force them, they came by their own accord. And they would lie down on paper, in perfect harmony. Not anymore.

Perhaps it's not really a matter of adulthood. Perhaps it's because the brain is getting rusty. If you don't see so many marvels in the world that surrounds you... your brain is probably rotten. And so you cannot write.

...

On ne maîtrise pas une langue. J'aurais aimé dire que je maîtrise le français, mais ce n'est pas le cas. Le français me maîtrise, ou me méprise. Je me complais à rester dans mon ignorance auto-contemplative, à débiter des âneries sur un papier intouchable, à pratiquer la masturbation intellectuelle en inventant des métaphores qui n'ont pas lieu d'être. L'hypocrisie de ma poésie frôle l'hérésie.

And it'll continue, if it can help bleed the poison away.

Quand on s'est rencontré

2008-02-02T00:24:00.001-05:00

Quand on s'est rencontré la première fois
on ne s'est pas vu
J'ai passé à côté de toi un inconnu

Quand on s'est rencontré la deuxième fois
tu m'as aperçu
Je passais par là tu m'as reconnu

Quand on s'est rencontré la troisième fois
tu es venue
Je me suis arrêté et là j'ai su

On a bavardé de choses et d'autres
raconté des histoires, ton histoire et mon histoire
On s'est découvert l'un et l'autre
Regarder dans le miroir, le tien le mien le nôtre

Les mois et les ans ont passé
Et jamais tu n'as cessé de m'étonner
Au fil du temps a grandit notre amitié
Jusqu'à ce que rien ne puisse l'arrêter
Oh bien sûr ça n'a pas toujours monté
On a eu notre lot d'obstacles, d'adversité
Mais toujours on s'est retrouvé
A deux sous le chaud soleil d'été

Quand on s'est rencontré la quatrième fois
on n'a pas pu
Je t'ai serrée dans mes bras ça t'a plu

Quand on s'est rencontré la cinquième fois
tu m'as dit t'as su
J'ai murmuré des mots tout bas, perdus

Quand on s'est rencontré la sixième fois
tu t'es tue
Je t'ai embrassée, la tête dans les nues

On a bavardé de choses et d'autres
raconté des histoires, ton histoire et mon histoire
On s'est redécouvert l'un et l'autre
Regarder dans le miroir, le tien le mien le nôtre

Les mois et les ans ont passé
Et jamais tu n'as cessé de m'étonner
Au fil du temps on s'est rapproché
Jusqu'à ce qu'on ne puisse plus se quitter
Oh bien sûr ça ne peut pas que continuer
On a tous un jour à se séparer
Mais toujours on s'est retrouvé
A deux sous le chaud soleil d'été

Quand on s'est rencontré la septième fois...
Quand on s'est rencontré la septième fois...
tu n'étais plus
Je me suis brisé en mille parcelles disparues

Je ne peux plus bavarder de choses et d'autres
mais je raconte mon histoire ton histoire et notre histoire
Pour mieux me souvenir de l'un et de l'autre
Se regarder dans le miroir, le tien le mien le nôtre.

For those beautiful eyes.

On the Corporation, Part One.

2008-01-24T19:54:00.000-05:00

The Corporation.

The jewel of our civilization. The best example of successful capitalism. Our life, on many levels, is being run by it. And we give it life.

If we had been told centuries ago that such entities would exist, we would probably have laughed. A virtual legal person? What a concept. It has its own laws but doesn't exist, is composed of humans yet continues on breathing when its parts are crumbling. As with Steinbeck, it is the ultimate justification. Kicking you out of your land? Sorry, not my fault, the Corporation dictates it. If I'm part of the Corporation? Oh no, I just work for it. Got to do what you got to do, right? Bread and butter to my family, dust and gravel to yours. Not my problem, find your own Corporation.

And yet, for many people the Corporation is a good choice. It provides a steady income, and usually job security. It has a good brand name, gives a certain credibility. And as a whole, it serves a purpose in society. Without Procter and Gamble, where would you get your soap? Without Johnson and Johnson, where the baby powder? Without Microsoft, how would you be able to complain about your computer? My argument is not that they are intrinsically bad. However, they are internally flawed. Flawed for the countless people without faces that work for a faceless but logo'd Corporation.

My experience is only based on the technology Corporation. In some regards, it might be different from the normal one, since in this industry, there are no cash cows. Well, okay, there are. However, they need maintenance and constant care, and often times updates and fixes, which is slightly different than, let's say, soap. Although with the development of 3, 4 and 5 blades razors, maybe P&G is not safe either... but I digress. The technology Corporation, as I know it, is inefficient. It fails in a number of things, from small little details to workflow problems. I am not pretentious enough to think I can fix any of its flaws, but if my opinion counted, I do tend to believe it could be a better place.

E-mails

Death to e-mails. Those things take time, energy, and complicate things overly. Now, yes, in an international setting, it is impossible to talk to a person face-to-face all the time. Matter of fact in any large company, getting to talk to someone might mean walking across half a campus. But please stop communicating through e-mails. It's the best medium to achieve absolutely no work while appearing busy. Oh yes, you have 54 e-mails in your inbox? Congratulations, do you want a medal? Get your freaking work done instead.

Now I understand, you're a manager, you have to be important, and e-mails are the best way to remind people across continents that you exist. But those people that are below you have work to do, unlike you. Unless you really have something important to say, don't bother. And I doubt you really have that much to say every day.

E-mails ruin my day, they really do. Instead of people coming to your desk and asking you something, they send a badly written e-mail that doesn't explain anything. I spend half an hour trying to decipher it, half an hour to solve the issue, and half an hour to send back another e-mail with full fledged explanation. Why!? Come to me and ask me, I'll explain at the same time as I do it. I save 30 min in the front and 30 min in the back. 67% less time lost, that's a number your higher management wants to see (you want better numbers? Be positive. "300% increased efficiency!" See how they like that one). And if asking is not possible... call. Please. There is a phone. It transmits voice. Voice is good, voice is fast. Use it, unless you have an incomprehensible accent like mine.

...

In the next episodes, in no particular order: software lifecycle, meetings, bureaucracy, integration, office supplies, technology, management...

The Third Degree

2007-12-04T22:51:00.000-05:00

No, listen. You got it all wrong.

I have never said I loved her. Nor have I affirmed the contrary. Feelings are very fickle things, you are old enough to know.

Yes, there is a definite affection. I do care for her, and enjoy her company. I would have been perfectly happy to spend my life with her, yes. I would have enjoyed being with her through the sun and through the storm.

You get to see her when she smiles, and I do not. You get to see her when she laughs, and I do not. You get to see her when she screams, when she cries, when she sits and stays silent, and I do not. Although you too care for her, you cannot possible comprehend me.

I know it wasn't meant to last. I know, and had accepted that fact before it even started. If we live our lives as falling stars, I just wish the trailing path would have been longer.

I tried to make it easy. For her, for me. There is no point in prolonging the agony. The tears that were not shed must not be. The pain that was repressed will stay hidden. The words of love that were not pronounced will be silent. ... And inside, I will weep, throb and sigh. But she must not know. Pain, unlike love, should never be shared.

And please, please go tell him. He doesn't seem to see anymore what treasure he has in front of him. I can understand he was hurt. But as badly as he was, it cannot be compared to her sufferance. Tell him to look at her eyes, those beautiful eyes that shine for him. Tell him to look at her trembling lips, waiting. Ask him if those, if she's not worth living for. If he says no, he is not a man. If he dares refuse her, if he dares abandon her, he is not a man. She looks up to him, in love and admiration. How can you hold such a flower and decide to crush her?...

Don't ask me to meet him. I would call him an arrogant, spoiled brat. Unless he makes it better.

And don't tell her anything. Don't share the pain. I'll talk to her before the end, before death does us part.

Excerpt from Conversations of the Third Degree.

A toi.

2007-11-14T19:43:00.000-05:00

Très chère Lise,

Je vous écris de ma tente, à la lueur de la seule lampe à huile de notre détachement. Nous somme entrés dans Caen, finalement. Enfin.

C'est la première nuit en plus d'un mois que je peux dormir sur un lit de camp. Les lits sont rares, et nos blessés, nombreux. Je ne vous conterais pas dans le détail ce dernier mois. Lorsque je vous ai quitté, je ne pensais pas que ça serait si difficile. Vous rappellez-vous Jean, le fils du vieux Fournier à l'autre bout du village? Je l'ai vu mourir à mes pieds, le visage ensanglanté. ~~Il lui manquait son bras, et~~ Pardon. Je ne voulais pas.

C'est beau, la Normandie. Enfin, ça serait beau si nous n'étions pas ici. Je peux imaginer marcher avec vous parmi la bruyère, et vous porteriez votre chapeau au ruban blanc que je trouvais si charmant. Le printemps ici doit être magnifique. Je me souviens de l'hiver passé, aussi. Nous avions dansé à la veillée, pour la première fois. Et cette fois votre soeur Lorraine n'avait pas eu besoin de nous surveiller! Et vos yeux... dans vos yeux, je voyais toutes les étoiles tourner, et tourner...

Nous devons repartir au matin. Le sergent Emery nous a averti que nous devons rejoindre une division anglaise. Il est bien, le sergent Emery. Dur, mais toujours calme, et il porte attention à nous. Vous l'auriez apprécié.

Je n'ai pas beaucoup de temps. C'est la deuxième fois déjà que l'on me dit de fermer la lampe. Mais j'ai tant de choses à vous dire...

J'ai si hâte de vous revoir. On nous a dit que nous retournerons au Canada d'ici quelques mois, quelques semaines peut-être. Avec de la chance, je vous verrai à l'automne. C'est inhabituel, des mariages en automne.

Mais si.. enfin. Si jamais je devais ne pas revenir. Je voulais vous dire... Ne m'attendez pas. Je m'en voudrais. Bon Dieu, que c'est difficile... Je vous regarderais, d'en haut. Je vous aime.

Pour vous, ma mie.

Votre Charles.

-Yes sir. He died in action. Nazis. He didn't suffer.
-Thanks.

-Lise, Lise, écoute-moi. C'est fini, on n'y peut rien.
-Mais... Charles, il...
-Il n'a pas souffert. Ne pleure pas. Il te regarde.

On the Relativity of People

2007-09-24T19:42:00.000-04:00

So. Let me start by saying, I think people are stupid. You, me, him, her, them, us. Not because the average IQ is low. No, the average IQ, as you very well know, is 100. ... Which is still low, but I digress. No, it's only because people believe just anything other people tell them. So from 1 moron, you get 2 morons, and then 4, and 8, and so on, increasing faster than the number of transistors on a die. And then, alas, morons elect other morons. That's how democracy works. Except the elected moron has more power.

And on with the subject of power. See, democracy is a great system. It allows you to peacefully overthrow your leader(s) every 4 years or so. That's great and all, because people (especially women, I find. I know, I'm totally misogynistic) like change. And 4 years with the same living room arrangement is more than my mother would be able to live with, so same goes with political leaders, but anyway. The point being, democracy and a constitution usually prevents dictatorship. But sometimes it doesn't, because people are morons. Like what have Americans done with Bush? It's okay if you elected him once. Hell, I'll even forgive you for voting for him twice. But please, please, could you guys stop watching MTV and start reading political newspapers!?

I remember, a few years ago, there was a forum where people argued about the Iraqi War. Out of numerous people, not all American, I was the only one that opposed it. Which means I got trashed. And you know what, that's fine. Patriotism is a real force, and a true asset when it's well used. But damn. You have to admit that now, it's pretty obvious the war was completely unjustifiable, from a political, ethical or economical point of view. Well, maybe not from the economical perspective if your family deals in oil or weapons. But whatever.

It's okay to make mistakes. I'll add, too, that it's normal not to care about strangers living half the planet away. It's true, right? What the hell do I care if 42 Iraqis die in a bomb explosion?... I'd rather watch Paris Hilton. Because at least, she's hot. And 42 Iraqis are not even worth one Marine, that's very well known. Now for putting the country into a complete mess, I guess Americans should give away their rights and let their appointed political leader turn the country into a fascist state. Anyway. That wasn't the topic of today's post.

No, the topic I had in mind at first was mostly the thing North America (or probably all of the Western world) has against everyone that dares rival their supremacy. Like China. First of all, one question. How fucking scared are you? Of losing your job, of losing your dominant position, of having hordes of yelling Asian barbarians invading your homeland, pillaging your homes and raping your women? Next. I'll agree with something. China doesn't have a democracy. Yes, it's a dictatorship, but a dictatorship that has many people at its head, called the Party. How is it different from the States?... I'm not quite sure. I am not very politically savvy, I admit.

Heard about the toys recall? How China got bashed over it? I'll be the first to admit, chinese-made items have a tendency to be of lower quality. But they also have a tendency to be cheaper. Last I heard, when you pay for a Lada, you expect a Lada. And yet... It seems there's also a tendency to demonize China, while errors could be somewhere else. No, it's not entirely Mattel's fault, nor Chinese producers. I think it's a shared responsibility, but if it is, why does one party get bashed more than the other? I'll tell you, the toys recalls made the front page of newspapers for more than a day. The apology from Mattel was on page 14 and was 4 lines long. Thank you, fair treatment. And if you complain about local people losing jobs because of China... Sorry. Commercial treaties go both ways, the people you elect sign them. Start being competitive and get off that fat ass of yours.

Or how about Iran. Yea okay, they're going on about getting some "nucular" power. If it helps them provide energy to their people, good for them. Am I against nuclear weaponry? Absolutely. The last thing we need is a second Cold War between the West and the East. But Iran and their nuclear bombs is about as dangerous as Saddam Hussein and his weapons of mass destruction. And even if he gets them... Sorry, but no one apart from Bush would be crazy enough to use them. It's funny because the latest run for armament was initiated by the States, endangered by people using rifles. Putin's mind is already fathoming incredible things due to Bush, missile shield and all. I wish those two would be married, for ever and until Death does them part.

And hell, if Ahmadinejad wants to visit New York and Ground Zero, let him. I'm sure he won't pee on the site. I wouldn't either, because last time I went, there was no public bathroom. Truthfully, him being president and all, he might even have some interesting things to say. He might even pay homage to the victims. But of course, I wouldn't dare say he might be a normal person. If I do, I might be compared to Hitler, you know.

If only Easteners were white and believed in Lord God, things would be so much easier... oh wait. Where would we get the invented enemies from!? We should launch a Holy Crusade to cleanse the planet of the Unbelievers. Freaking people.

Falling leaves

2007-09-14T21:30:00.000-04:00

Les feuilles tombent. Tombent sur ces tombes.

Have you ever seen a person die?... I remember, once. I was on my way home, after school. I had to follow the same dull road for about thirty minutes. Not much to see. A few trees leaving town, then a field, and then our little house at the extremity.

I remember the scene. It was a four-way intersection, stop signs for each direction. That little boy was running with his bag on his back. He had a blue jean jacket, white and red sneaker shoes, a red cap on his head.

The car didn't stop.

For a moment, everything seemed to stop.

Then... He flew to the middle of the street. The leaves on the ground were projected upward, yellow, red, bloody. There was blood everywhere. Running on his face and unto the street, scarlet rivulets. I am ashamed to admit, there was a strange beauty in it. It was like a crimson star, starting from a corpse. The fallen leaves completed the picture with their bright colours, contrasting with the deeper red shade.

I don't think the little boy was dead. Weirdly enough, his face was towards me. I could see his eyes, big and unblinking. He was silent, and seemed almost serene, fully aware of his situation. But maybe he was already gone.

All around, though, people came back to life. It was like a still picture suddenly turning into a movie. That, or an exposition of possessed wax statues. A woman accross the street screamed. It was an ear-piercing, despairing and scary shriek. It still rings in my head when I think about it. The man driving the car, a brownish Peugeot 405 I think, came rushing out of it. But he didn't dare approach the boy.

In fact, no one did. People came, looked frantically for a public phone, yelling, shouting, crying. They all looked at the boy, but no one tried to touch him, no one tried to help, no one tried to see if he was still alive.

Soon enough of course, my view of him got blocked. I was still standing in the same place, and sometimes his eyes were visible through the blur of legs. But I didn't want to watch anymore. I didn't want to wait for the police or the ambulance, didn't want to get caught in so much motion. Commotion.

I followed the road, walking a stiff walk, kicking dry leaves with my feet. And they were projected upward, yellow, red. I watched them rise, fly and fall. I listened to their rustle, and I liked it. I've always loved kicking leaves, watching them and listening.

I left town, and kept walking, as usual. I took a look at the sunflowers field to my left. Most of them were already withering, their head looking down as if they were mourning. But one was strong, happy, alive. He stood out in the crowd, like a joyful sun. And I don't know why, but I went into the field, and got to him. I cut him at mid-length with my school scissors, half tearing it down. He still seemed smiling in my hands.

I could see our little house on the side of the street. An old, rustic and cheap house, white walls and green roof. I liked it nonetheless. When I pushed the door, my mother came to me, a worried look on her face. I didn't tell her why I was late, and she scolded me for stealing someone's sunflower. I didn't care much, that time.

I left the sunflower on the dinner table, and went up to my room. And I thought about the little boy. He was quite young. Too young to die. His life resembled autumn's dry leaves. They rise into the air, dance with the wind, and fall. Or maybe he was like that sunflower, happy and joyful, who got his life taken from him. I don't know.

...

I do know. His name was Laurent. We lived in opposite directions from school. He had to cross the street. I can still see him, waving at me from the school's gates. And he was my best friend.

This was fourteen years ago. Each year, when autumn starts, I think of it.

Tu n'es plus au monde, mais les feuilles doivent toujours tomber sur ta tombe...

Il fut un temps

2007-03-19T16:11:00.000-04:00

Il fut un temps, nous étions tous des enfants. Dans nos yeux rien d'autre que le firmament, un éternel émerveillement. Cela dura un moment, un moment trop court, un moment il y a longtemps. Soudainement, nous fûmes adolescents, d'innocents à... à dire vrai, complètement chiants. Ce fut une étape de questionnements, de silences et de paroles dans le vent. Certains en sortirent plus grands, d'autres... d'autres, n'en parlons pas tant.

C'est là que nous apprîmes certaines choses. Notamment, à souffrir. Souffrir pour soi, pour autrui, souffrir parce que c'est la vie. Certains s'y arrêtèrent, d'autres continuèrent. L'important étant d'en ressortir plus fort, assez pour continuer à l'âge adulte, s'adapter et prétendre aux yeux de la société.

Alors, à ceux qui sont ici, une nouvelle ère. Supposément sûrs de nous, un potentiel inexploité, des horizons illimités et un monde à explorer. Et pourtant... pourtant, au fond, parfois, encore l'enfant. L'enfant à qui on a tant montré, l'enfance moins l'innocence. Ne reste que l'incertitude, l'inquiétude, la solitude. Et ceux qui ont décidé d'enlever leur carapace, et de faire face à toute cette farce, de marcher en avant... Ils s'exposent aux aléas du temps, des gens. Ces gens qui vont les abuser, les contrôler, les aimer, les gifler et les délaisser, oubliés. Alors pourquoi continuer? Continuer à se battre, à gravir cette montagne, avec au bout, une pancarte écrit "J'y suis arrivé"? Simplement pour ces même gens, ceux qui finalement, sont importants.

Grimpez. Grimpez, par dessus mon dos, j'vais vous aider, donner un coup de main, une taloche bien placée, et montez au sommet. Mais rendus en haut, ayez la bienveillance de m'y tirer, ou à tout le moins, de me pousser en bas, au plus profond de la vallée. Parce qu'au moins, là, je pourrais me reposer.

A quoi rime tout ça? Aucune idée. Je ne sais pas. Je ne sais plus. Mais je continue.

Balade à Toronto

2007-01-16T22:08:00.000-05:00

It's funny how not being at "home" makes everything unreal. Funny how the lack of sleep makes it surreal. And funny how something virtual becomes so real.

Regarde! Les étoiles!

When you feel disoriented, when the entire world seems to spin and toy with you, it's always good to have a point of reference. Something, somewhere, someone that makes you say "This is real. This is my life." Rarely can we find one. For some reasons, the older you become, the more confused you are. Nothing is as simple as it appears to be, and what was rock-solid before is now as elusive as a shadow.

Tant qu'il y aura des étoiles sur le bord de la route nous pourrons nous arrêter...

Humans have always looked at the stars. Navigators, astronomers, even astrologers. Shining stellar bodies, alone or in clusters. Seems they always striked our imagination. I believe each and every one of us has at least one they look at. One that brings us comfort, just knowing it exists.

Tant qu'il y aura des rivières nous pourrons nous baigner...

Constantly changing environments is destabilizing. You need to re-adjust to your surroundings, make it yours, make it home. But there are those markers that help you... Taking the train back to Montreal, it didn't feel like home. Only when the Five Rose sign start flashing did I realize, that's it, I'm here. But where is "here"? What is "home"? I don't truly believe in it. Having traveled, you know that everywhere could be your home. The place matters not... the location does not possess you. You possess it.

Et que plus jamais rien ne redoute d'autres destins que celui du doute...

But a location is just that. What matters most... is the people around you. Those radiant stars you look forward to. The people you just can't leave behind, lest it breaks you. The ones you cannot bear see leaving, cannot even imagine them doing so without sobbing like a baby. Family, friends, lovers, each of them that touched you and that you hopefully touched.

Jamais je n'oublierai les étoiles sur la route de Toronto...

To those radiant stars, that stay constant through the flow of time, to whom you look at in the night to garner strength, whose presence shines down on you, those that make you feel alive... I say thank you.

Thank you.

~Balade à Toronto, Jean Leloup

Can you spell P-W-N-E-D?

2006-11-08T22:31:00.000-05:00

So. Apparently, the Republicans got their ass handed to them. No one saw that coming, huh? Now, we're left to wonder if this will actually change anything. Is it too late for recoup? Bush is still in place, and although his position is shaken, will this change his course of actions? Better asked, should he even change his strategy?

Without a doubt, the Americans still have tons of morons at their head, and (not) sorry for being blunt. There is a definite decline in their supremacy, be it diplomatic or military. But even with the Democrats in majority, I cannot see them pulling their soldiers from Iraq, or remedy the mistakes done in the last few years correctly. For one, pulling out of Iraq means no more oil. And yes, that's for all of you that ever, ever thought oil is not the point. The US, greatest nation on this Earth, brings deliverance and freedom to the oppressed people of Iraq. In search of weapons of mass destruction! By which Bush probably meant, AK-47s. What a bitch. (Okay, it might not only be for oil. There's also this whole issue of political power, military control over a geographical region, and more imperalism yadda-yadda)

But what is done is done. The situation is too complex, too huge, to be resolved in a matter of weeks, or months. Plus it's not like the Democrats really know what to do anyway, right? Calling for change is just talk. They can talk the talk, let's see if they walk the walk. However, with some chance, they might be able to stop "new developments" in the race to cretinism, and grant some liberties back to their fellow American citizens.

Politics is so damn fun. Criticizing it as a nobody with no background nor knowledge whatsoever is even funnier.

Rumsfeld is my hero. <3.

A quick laugh.

2006-11-02T00:09:00.000-05:00

There's countless things I could talk about. The media is going crazy with those wars, our minister of Finance is having great fun dealing a nearly 300 damage blow to TSX, Harper is happy with the way we're destroying our planet, and Bush is turning the States into an Orwellian state. But instead, I'll post a couple quotes/jokes I've picked on Ebaumsworld, while being "bored". Enjoy.

I was so poor growing up ... If I wasn't born a boy .... I'd have nothing to play with.

I was such an ugly baby ... My mother never breast fed me. She told me that she only liked me as a friend.

I'm so ugly ... My father carries around the picture of the kid who came with his wallet.

I went to see my doctor. "Doctor, every morning when I get up and look in the mirror ... I feel like throwing up. What's wrong with me?" He said "I don't know but your eyesight is perfect."

If you take an Oriental person and spin him around several times, does he become disoriented?

Do Lipton Tea employees take coffee breaks?

When cheese gets its picture taken, what does it say?

Q. What is the difference between a drug dealer and a hooker?
A. A hooker can wash her crack and sell it again.

Q. What is a Yankee?
A. The same as a quickie, but a guy can do it alone.

Q. Why is divorce so expensive?
A. Because it's worth it!

Q. What do a Christmas tree and priest have in common?
A. Their balls are just for decoration.

Q: What's the difference between a girlfriend and a wife?
A: 45 pounds.

Q: Why do men find it difficult to make eye contact?
A: Breasts don't have eyes.

Avoid arguments with the Mrs. about lifting the toilet seat by simply using the sink.

Viruses:

The Clinton Virus - Gives you a permanent Hard Drive; with NO memory.

The Lewinsky Virus - Sucks all the memory out of your computer, then e-mails everyone about what it did.

The Arnold Schwarzenegger Virus - Terminates some files, leaves, but will be back.

The Mike Tyson Virus - Quits after two bytes.

The Michael Jackson Virus - Only attacks minor files.

That should be enough for this time. Enjoy your life.

Narcissism: +2/+2 until end of turn.

2006-09-04T21:39:00.000-04:00

Diary of a vampire.

Another night.

Sometimes, I see, heard and listen to people suffer. Voices, millions of maddened voices, a roaring tempest, a silent plea. Faces, countless faces, a mosaic of agony, the still statue of insanity.

I thought I could bring pain. I thought I could soak pain. But so much sufferance? It is beyond my comprehension, my imagination. I am young, by some standards. I thought I have lived though, enough to have a grasp of reality. Perhaps I was wrong. In the Blood, so much is shared... and what comes back to haunt me is the pain. The pain that was kept for so long. That built up, brood anger. And from anger comes hate. In the Blood, I take it all, it all becomes mine.

I am one selfish bastard. I take it all. All your memories. Your joy. Your pain. Your fondest moments, your wildest fears, your smiles, your tears, your scream, of agony, of pleasure, everything anything and more. I take it all within me, within my black hole, within the Abyss that resides in me. They all collide and collapse inside, and nothing remains. Nothing remains, but me, me, and me.

And the pain? That sheer quantity I cannot comprehend? I absorb it. I understand I cannot soak it. It is not my task. I compress it, until is it no more than a singularity. Your Blood becomes part of me, and so does your pain. But it is no more. And it haunts me. Because I do not feel it like I should. My limbs are numb, my heart is numb, and my head is empty. You thought it'd create rage? Fits of anger, hate bleeding through my eyes? Think again. I walk at night. Kill at night. Live, and die at night. And under the Moonlight, everything is alike. Burning hate, fiery anger, crimson blood? They have no color.

Haunt me as you want. You are no burden to me. Hunt me, with torches, stakes and divine imprecations. You cannot catch me. Whisper to me, voices of the damned. Come to me, I welcome thee.

-Day of Deception, 9th the Month of the Dragon 748 AI.

***

You cannot give a burden to someone else. If they do have one, then they chose to take it on themselves. You can annoy, irritate, frustrate, or simply bore the shit out of someone's mind. You cannot pressure someone into accepting you as a burden.

If you think that last bit concerns you, you're wrong. Period. I write stuff that runs through my mind, that I don't expect anyone to read, and so that doesn't concern anyone here. Give me a smile, and make it last a while.

~I no doubt deserved my enemies, but I don't believe I deserved my friends. - Walt Whitman

Analyze this.

2006-08-17T19:14:00.000-04:00

I love analysts. They think they're just so cool. Like this. I guess that, because the PS2 had a lot of success, PS3 must be successful too. Despite the fact that it's just so expensive and doesn't have the cool wii-mote. Is it the same reasoning why Nortel was bound to grow, because it reached 120$? BreX looks so promising, it can't drop! I wonder if they actually poll gamers when doing analysis. Because right now, I'd say the Wii is wiining big fucking time. Even before it's out!

It's just got so much under its belt. Wii-mote, free net play, and oh-em-gee, good games. Because I haven't heard of many good games for the 360 or the PS3. EA just doesn't cut it, and even if they choose to focus on the DS... I mean, shit, it's EA. What kind of poop will they pour out this time.

Also, what about Apple wanting to stop people from using "pod"? Pod is a common word. It's like saying... "Dude, you can't use apple." Oh wait. They did that. ... Dumb. I hate dumb people. And yes, that means you.

I cut myself.

2006-07-20T18:04:00.000-04:00

So, let's talk about my personal life. ... HAHAHA, no way. Did I fool you?

Instead, I'll say something concerning politics. OMG we are being fucked in the ass, and we like it. Without lube. So, a couple what, months ago, we elected Harper. Look at him. He looks nice, right? Almost an angelic, baby face. Of course, he's a conservative, so he must be wicked sick still, but he doesn't look like it. Of all the politicians in the last election, he looked the most neutral and inoffensive. Well, except Layton. But Layton... that's another story. Back to my point. Conservatives got elected, but were in minority. Harper looked physically like a somewhat moderate guy. What do we get now?

Canada's image is being irremediably destroyed. In the gutter. Increasing involvement in Afghanistan campaign? Could pass. Spending 40 something billions for the military, awarding contracts to US companies? Maybe. Signing a contract with the US saying "Hi, can you rape me please, I like it" (I'm talking about the wood market and the free trade agreement)? Not easy. Killing Kyoto protocol? Harsh. "Moderate response from Israel"? ... Hey dude, I see a pattern here. Wait wait wait... could it be that... We are the US backyard? Harper, what are you? An American? It's okay, in a way, if you have these values... it's less okay when what you say and do makes no sense from a Canadian perspective.

Right now, every policy that is being adopted is copied straight from the US. See... if you want to destroy the internal workings of the system, by decreasing GST, spending in military, and generally being gay (hahaha, what about marriage?), I can only say, you suck badly. But when it gets to international policies... it's dangerous. Why don't we have terrorists? Simply because we're mostly harmless. More than that, we were always helpful to others, and never a menace. Why have so many enemies when you can have friends? But with the coming of Harper, the strategy changed. We are following the US, like a bondaged slave.

And Israel... I mean, I know you were massacred during WW2... But is that a reason to do the same to others? Oh shit, no, they took 2 soldiers hostage? That's like saying, ok, no, two of my citizens died in another country, let's attack them. Because the ratio is what? For those 2 soldiers, over 300 dead in Liban? That's not quite as moderate a response as it should be.

But, going back to Harper... what he's doing right now puts all of us in danger. We're making enemies instead of friends, and the worst part of it is, as soon as the first terrorist attack hits, more freaks like him will be elected. Terrorists don't appear out of nowhere. They're just people being pushed to the last extremities, when they simply have nothing to lose and no way to retaliate. And, if you start acting like an ass and support every act of arrogance in this world, you put yourself in their aim. It's as simple as that. Whenever we'll get attacked... let's just remember Harper was looking forward to it, and we elected Harper.

On the other hand, I can't really complain about people being stupid. Because, the ones we elect aren't much brighter.

Once upon a time, there was a madman writing stories

2006-06-26T20:32:00.000-04:00

I wait for you days on end
For my peace of mind
Will you hold my hand?
I miss you...

I think of you day and night
I long for your sight
Will you bring me light?
I miss you...

I pray for you and always will
If dreams could fulfill
If time could stand still
I miss you...

But dreams cannot come true
No matter what we do
Reality strikes you
And flares the pain!

We drifted apart slowly but surely
It could be a tragedy or a comedy
I do not yet understand fully
But you, in your sagacity
You wrote our own story
You forecasted eternity
You destroyed my sanity
You drove me crazy
Misery
And finally, you told me calmly"I'm sorry. This is not for me."

I lived in a sweet fairy tale
I lived for my own little angel
But now this world seems to pale
And flares the pain!

We drifted apart slowly but surely
We tread on different paths, lonely
What is left but the memory
You wrote our own story
You forecasted eternity
You destroyed my sanity
You drove me crazy
Silently

Hope has escaped Pandora's box
I look back at my old locks
I reflect on what I have lost
And flares the pain!

We drifted apart slowly but surely
We left each other knowingly
But now I have to agree
You wrote our own story
You forecasted eternity
You destroyed my sanity
You drove me crazy
Sadly

All of this is an illusion
All of this is an elation
All a dream of my own creation
All a lie the timeless devotion
And for me there is no salvation
What I receive is damnation
At my own hands, my destruction
Set me free!

Take away the heart that is lifeless
Blow away the candle in the darkness
My last death shall be stainless
Set me free!

Forget my fears
Forget my tears
Burn down the tree
Set me free

(Set me free) (And flares the pain) (I miss you)

I never knew what I would do without you. I couldn't think about a day when you wouldn't be part of my life anymore. I didn't want to think of it. Je me suis toujours dit que je ne pourrais pas le faire. Que la vie n'aurait pas de sens. And yet, it happened. "We" are no more. I have to continue on, and I don't know how. Mais ça fait moins mal que je l'aurais pensé. Je vis, tu vis. I get no news from you. I am completely out of your life. And I miss you, terribly. En fait, ça me m'affecte presque pas. J'y pense, de temps en temps. Au temps qui a passé, et qui ne sera pas. And then I catch myself thinking... I'll have to live a lifetime without you. Do you know how long a lifetime is? Mais le temps... le temps est relatif. Relatif, superlatif. Sans toi, je suis libre. Libre de faire ce qu'il me plaît, libre de partir à tout jamais. Tu ne me manques pas. So long, without you... Will I see you in the afterlife? When we'll be old and wrinkly? Or shall you ever be as pretty? Des fois, je me dis que j'aimerais te revoir, à notre mort. Mais pourquoi? Deux vieillards décharnés. Mieux vaut me tenir avec des lépreux, des pestiférés, la lie de la société. A quoi bon, après tout? I would want to. Spend my last days, hours, minutes, talking to you. But I know it won't happen. Will we ever meet again, and take a coffee? Will our path cross again? Ça ne sert à rien. Rien ne sert à rien. Rien ne m'importe. I don't know. But I can't seem to forget. I try to push away, but it stays, it lingers. The memories of you, the memories of us. Ce n'était qu'un rêve, un de ceux qui n'auraient pas dû être. Des illusions à jamais perdues. I miss the short time we spent together. It was a happy time. Les illusions sont toujours regrettées. Peut-être que je les regrette, quand même. I miss those times. Tu me manques. I miss you.

But in the end... I don't know if I really care. De toute façon, je m'en fous.

The Madman.

Make up your mind

2006-06-06T22:51:00.000-04:00

Alright, damnit. People. Make up your darned freaking mind, will ya? If you can't decide, play head or tails. Do something. Something's hard to decide? It's fine to hesitate and take the time to think. But for Satan's sake, make it clear. Tell others, "Alright let me think about it, I'll tell you later on." Please don't say something one day, and something else the other day, and then finally come up with a third inexistent option. That's just, wrong. And for fuck's sake, it irritates me. I have no patience lately, and so much stuff bothers me.

And by the way. I don't care if you're old and senile. I don't care if you're kissing your girlfriend until you suck off her lips. I don't care if you're a big fat lady that smells like rotten pussy. On an electric stairs, escalator, whatever you call them, there are two sides. If you can't fucking climb the stairs, please stay on the right side. Please. If you're standing on the left side and ain't moving, I have the furious envy to hit you. You can be excused if you're just, you know... too fat and take up both sides even when standing on the right side. In which case, I'll respect that, but I'll just point and laugh at you.

Which reminds me. The same goes to people that can't walk. Why the fuck are you pushing everyone in order to get out of the metro before them, if you walk slower than a limace? No, seriously? What the fuck? You just push people away, or sneak your way in/out with that 350 lbs body of yours (yes, notice how it's always the people that cannot walk fast or sneak that do it) and then slow the circulation down. Good fucking job. Asshats. *BEEP* Wrong. No hats can fit on your ass, it's just that huge.

I have a good and a bad news. The good news is that, there are no bad news. The bad one is that the last part was a lie. ~ Anonymous

All that matters is gold

2006-06-01T23:12:00.000-04:00

Sometimes, I feel like writing. It usually ends up being a rant. And I know I cannot write poems, not in English, and not anymore. So it's just prose, flowing, sometimes fast, sometimes slow. No style, no vocabulary. That's besides the point.

I question myself. Quite often. About the different choices I, and others, make in life. How things would have turned differently, maybe. And today, I'm thinking about money. Of course, my train of thought was... pointed towards that direction. Anyway.

I don't care much about money, never did. I'm a strong proponent of what HR people (hahaha) call work/life balance. You know, having a comfortable life and earning reasonable money? My dream job of sitting in a comfy chair, and doing nothing. Yet... Maybe I was wrong all along. When you aim for 80% on a test, you usually end up with 70%. Aim for 80k per year, you might end up with 50k. Why do we always aim for the average, or slightly above average? Knowing it is possible to achieve high, why aim for lower? Lack of ambition? Laziness? If there is a sin I can identify with, it'd be sloth, no arguing about that.

Here's an allegory I got told the other day, that I'll paraphrase slightly. What we see of an apple tree may be the trunk, the flowers and the apples. What matters to us is the fruit. But what determines the fruits? Of course, the external environment. But also, the roots. If the roots do not provide the nutrients needed, the apples will never grow red and sweet. Deep down inside of us, we have a philosophy about life. Those are our roots. If our roots tell us that we don't need money, then we'll never have money. I know that I have (some) potential. So does everyone I know. That potential just needs to be exploited, and that just needs motivation.

And in our society, all that matters is gold. Money is power. Power is money. Both combined make the one key to unlock the world. Tell me, what can't you achieve with money? You can use it for bad, but you can use it for good. You can keep it, you can give it. Give alms to the poor, like the Church. Or keep it deep in your vault, like the Church. There are very few limits. Love? Oh please, what is Love. Trivial, futile. If you have the money, you'll get the hot girls even at 60, as long as you're a sugar daddy. Or, like the people at work say, "cassonade" daddy. C'est comme sugar daddy, mais moins raffiné.

Maybe this is all very bitter. Or maybe I'm just starting to be practical. Or I pretend to be. Pretend to pretend.

Why be a man when you can be a success? ~ Bertolt Brecht

Diary of a Vampire

2006-05-31T21:25:00.000-04:00

Hi, for those that read this, please disregard it. I know I have no writing skills, I'm doing this for erm... Yea, no reason. Narcissism. If you read this and go "WTF?" (I know who you are) don't worry. Just don't read it.

Another night.

Darkness creeps on me. Cold, biting darkness, one of which I haven't felt in many years. I feel the hunger, the lustful need for blood, and do not want to yield. This town... I have lived here for the longest part of my immortal life. And yet, I find no reconfort amongst its walls, its people. I know none of them. Who are they to me? What am I to them? I appear as one of the mortals, take care in making my passage unnoticeable. To my kind, they are but prey. I cannot let myself get attached. They will all disappear and crumble through the passing of the ages. I will not.

Or maybe I will... I grow weary of this. I thought I'd be here forever, under the Moonlight, seeking. I thought myself strong, I thought... I don't know what I thought. I could choose to see the sun, the warm rise of Dawn, one last time... before burning to ashes. Life's path turns and twists around itself. I'm at a fork, but there is no bench where to sit and think.

I like to wander these dark alleys, stealthier than my shadow. The buildings are old now, and dirty. Garbage and excrements pile up on the side of the street, and no one cares. People keep walking. Look at this one, searching for a round purse. So many thieves in this town, and the guards don't do anything about it. And that beggar, alone. I gaze at him. His rags, from the colourful garments they were, are now pieces of soiled fabrics. He shivers. I don't know when was the last time he took a bath. His hair is a tangle of dark strands. His hands are stained with dirt, and in fact, his whole body seems covered with dirt. So miserable, so pitiful... I look at his face, stern, resigned. Misery does that... I almost want to take him out of it. But then his eyes strike me. They are not the eyes of a haggard man, desiring nothing fro mlife. No, his eyes are clear, severe. The eyes of someone that wants to fight, for something he can't ever achieve. As long as hope doesn't abandon him, he'll be almost happy to live.

I envy him. I lost my will to fight, when even the poorest beggar still has it. Who is the most pitiful now. Suddenly, the bloodied craze invades me. No Little Drink for me tonight. I let the rage invade my being, my thoughts... Blood. It's been a while since I've taken the blood from a human. But now, I want it. I want to know someone through the communion of the blood... drain it, taste it, lick it, in an orgasmic rage. I pounce on the beggar. Oh, the exquisite scarlet liquid... Salty with misery, him and mine, melted in the same body. I see through his eyes... Raised in a poor family. His young life, as a page. The endless runs through the temple, bringing parchments to the scribes and the clerics. His hope of being a scribe himself someday. The death of his sister, the pale face resting on the only pillow in their house. The blow it dealt him. I feel like crying. He agreed to serve as a slave, to pay the fees to bury her in a real coffin, deep in a mausoleum. How he eventually fled, lived a life of outcast, far away from everyone that mattered to him. Ended up in this city, as a beggar. It's so easy to tumble down the mountain. And then the connection stops. He was thirty-six. I drop the lifeless body, the lump of white flesh. More blood on my hands. One more burden.

Burdens... I can only accumulate more and more of them. There is only one way to end this. Should I? In a blur of speed, I enter the faire. I walk the path I've walked so many times before. Lake Mitha under the Moonlight. No wind blows... it's a dark mirror, the mirror of my soul. Black and deep, eternal. All around me, the laughters of the commoners. The fun, the games, the lights. Are they alone in the crowd? Or is it just me? The sound in the faire is deafening. I can hear the joy in the mortal's voices... And in this place, silence. Respite for my sins. Not far from here, the clearing. I do not wish to enter it. Not tonight, not now. I don't think I can bear it.
I sit down in the tall grass, trees all around. Outside, the serenity of the Night. Inside of me.. the turmoil, the pain. It's hard to contain. Blood drips out of my eyes... the tears of a vampire. I wipe my face with hands colored by the life source of a human being. Blood inside, blood outside. Pain... Life. Life, pain. Entwined, fusioned, that is my destiny, to carry on, like that, alone. Until one day, it stops.

I have to choose my day.

-Day of Deception, 22nd the Month of the Battle 746 AI.

Dark emptiness. Cold and heartless.
Silently, sadly,
alone.
Life for eternity.
I walk, stumble, stop, a mess.

Eternity is just a moment.
In an instant.
I walk, stumble, stop.

Pain is forever.
I'll always remember.
I walk, stumble.

Dreams of might have been.
Blindness I've seen.
I walk.

Scarred by the lashes.
Ashes to ashes.
I.

Life in uncertainty.
Death is certainty.
.

McGill FTW.

2006-04-07T00:03:00.000-04:00

I.. could speak and rant again.. but no I decide against it. Instead, I'll announce.. McGill made Slashdot! The pwnz0rz! Now if only the subject was a bit better.. (here I'm hesitating between "Top Canadian University Gives Crappy Education to Engineers" and "WebCT Vista Finds an Unsuspecting Prey"). Nevertheless... Slashdot, yay.

Now let's get to the sad part... So the guy got a grant refused, because he was working on the theory of evolution? Quote: ... the SSHRC panel said Alters had not supplied "adequate justification for the assumption in the proposal that the theory of evolution, and not intelligent design theory, was correct." Can it be any sadder? Since when Canada is American?... Oh wait. Harper got elected, didn't he?... We're becoming Tories. Conservatism for the win, gays and lesbians are spawns of the devil, please fornicate with young boys my priest friends. I say, we screw elementary school, and nuns get to teach, like in the old times. Intelligent design should be taught to everyone, so I speak, so it shalt be executed. For I am God, har. Now.. sorry if I offended you. (Har. You wish. I am SO going to hell if hell exists. Living on the edge!)

So. Basically... the Canadian "Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council" is either pro-creationism, or too afraid to be pro-evolution. But you already know it's wrong when the name of the council has "social sciences", "humanities" and "research" on the same line. But well.. I thought Canadians were intelligent. I thought they were sensible people, that ate beavers during the summer, smashed baby seals with baseballs during the spring, etc... No? I'm wrong? It happens the idiocy coming from the religious neighbour is invading the country. You know, that's a MUCH better strategy than invading with an army. I mean.. Heck, Canada is huge, it's hard to control such a big country using force, and there's only a limited supply of beavers anyway. But, like in Civilization, you can invade using culture! Or lack thereof, in our case. Invade with pure stupidity. Somehow, it seems to work. Things seem to move from the south to the north. The US get Mexicans, we get cretinism. All in all, I'd take Mexicans. At least, Mexicans are cheap labour and make fajitas. Cretinism.. well it just makes you look stupid. Oh wait, I'll repeat, we elected Harper. Harharhar (per. Omg clever joke! You must be astounded, so am I).

Let's hope that idiocy is like sugar in coffee. After a while, it gets saturated. Then you have no choice, the rest gets deposited at the bottom. And then you eat/lick it. Like a dead baby. Raw.
Rawr, too.

I'm back.

2006-02-09T18:51:00.000-05:00

I see the light at the end of the tunnel. The light.. the light is in indifference. Losing your armor is the worst thing that can befall you. Do it from time to time, only to remember how bad it is to remove it. Then wear it once more, and make it stronger. Patch it if it has been pierced, fix it, oil it, make it become yours once again, make it become a second skin, no, make it your skin.

I am back.

Ce qui devait arriver, arriva. Un chemin rempli d'ornières, entouré de fleurs, rouges, jaunes, blanches, joyeuses... bloqué par un mur. Un mur insurmontable, blanc, sans prises... En arrière, plus d'issues. Le chemin s'est effacé au fur et à mesure. Pathétique.

Il n'y a pas d'obstacle plus cruel que l'esprit humain. A la grâce du Diable.

Ignorance is bliss

2006-02-09T11:14:00.000-05:00

You know.. I was reading a newspaper sometime last week, and it mentioned how knowledge is not valued in our society anymore. We are not in the 17th or 18th century, where "educated" actually meant "having culture". We are not in the Greek society, when scholars were respected. No... that time is over. Who cares about what you know, as long as you can make a decent living. Schools are not there to teach you culture. They make you a machine, ready for the grand scheme of economics and capitalism. But that is not the problem... I know no period in history where the majority of the population was "educated". No, the problem is, no one cares anymore. Who fucking cares if you know history, if you have knowledge of ancient philosophers, have read books, plays, can appreciate art or anything like that? No one.

If you actually go up to someone, and talk in a somewhat fancy language (read, correct with some type of semi-vocabulary), they'll look at you strange. Of course.. there are those that have
isolated themselves on top of their ivory tower, learning many things.. but they are alone, and no one else understands them. All they can do is wave to the other people stuck up in their tower.
Which brings me to my point. Ignorance is bliss. The fuck do I want to know now. Knowing... knowing opens up your mind, making it susceptible to be hurt, broken down. I do not want to know, because what I doesn't know can't hurt me.

Is it spring already?

2006-02-06T10:53:00.000-05:00

We've been having a remarkably warm winter... It's like not living in Canada anymore. What's up with the temperature so close to zero? Where are our -25C? The weather we get makes people think it's spring, I'm pretty sure...

Why do I say that? Because Love is in the air, fuck. And hate, pain and sadness as well. Have I been living in an eternal winter all along? It seems I'm suddenly being told the love life of almost everyone around me. Stories that goes a while back.. a couple months, a year, even many years. Most of them aren't happy stories either. Why the fuck are you people so damn shy? Flirt openly, for Satan's sake. Directly telling someone that you love them is not a good solution. No, it makes people think you're some kind of weird stalker. Personal experience. Girls like flirty men. Believe me. Make them laugh, talk to them, show interest, do something. And, do it before someone else does. Because then, it'll be too late. You'll realize afterwards that you had your chance, but you just didn't grasp it.

Here, I've been told I haven't explained the Beaver Theory yet. Simply put, there are two types of guys. Beavers, and cocks. And I mean cocks in the animal sense of it, although they might be dicks in that other sense also. The beavers... you know them, you love them. Small, furry little creatures, not too pretty but oh how hard-working. Now if you had analyzed their mating habits, you would know that they only have one mate all their life. The male beaver builds that crazy dam of his, works his butt off, and takes care of the offsprings. You'll find those in the human society also. And then, you'll find cocks. Those are handsome, they're flashy, impressive. They flirt and fuck every chick they see, and they love it. The chicks are then left alone with their eggs, but what does he care? He got what he wanted.

The problem we have is, you have much more chances as a cock, because it means you're outgoing and grabbing attention. As a beaver.. well you might find the companion of your life, someday. And then, you might not. Beavers are good to marry. Cocks are good to go out with. Cocks might miss out an everlasting Love, but beavers might just miss Love period.

If what I said makes you reflect, and hurts you.. Well sorry, but I've been through this also. That's life. She's a bitch, and will sleep with everyone except you. Enjoy.

Giving someone all your love is never an assurance that they'll love you back! Don't expect love in return; just wait for it to grow in their heart, but if it doesn't, be content it grew in yours. ~ Unknown

It's sad.. but it might make you feel better, in a cynical kind of way.

January 13th

2006-01-13T18:55:00.000-05:00

This place is pretty much useless and deserted by now. And no, I did not compare it to my heart. Thanks. Basically.. a post to commemorate January 13th. It's a Friday also, today. What does it mean? That is for me to know, remember, and ultimately, forget. No seriously, that's really, really lame. "Hi!! Post!! Jan 13th, it's an inside that only I can get!!" is a good summary of it.

Oh, I know. I'll talk about... biorhythm. That thing is the shit. You thought reading an horoscope was funny? That tarot looked ridiculous? That the freak-clothed-in-mysterious-clothes your cousin's friend's ex-girlfriend best friend told you about seemed interesting, in no particular meaning of the word? Well. Let me show better. Much better.

Biorhythm is the art of bullshitting people using trigonometry. It represents your basic body state using three curves, Emotional, Physical and Intellectual, based on your date of birth. No need to say that right now, my Intellectual is close to -100%, else I wouldn't be posting here. So yes, basically, if you feel good right now, it must be your biorhythm! If you feel like shit, it's also because of it! You don't believe me? Try it yourself. Dooooo iiiit. Google for the word, click the first bullshit website that proposes you a biorhythm chart, and try it. I swear. That thing? It's the shit. Up until now, it hasn't told me lies! Of course, charts don't speak, either. But the point remains that, each time I check, it seems to be matching with my current state. How often do I check? Everytime I feel like shit. It's super accurate! Both times, it showed Emotional curve rather high, and Physical and Intellectual super low. I'm guessing my function either has a long, very long period, or there's some other hack on my sin curves that screws me up. "Your general well-being is momentarily mediocre. Tendency: Declining and getting worse promptly." Thanks for the big cheers up, biorhythm.

Mais la beauté, la beauté véritable, se termine là où commence l'expression intellectuelle. L'intelligence est par elle-même une forme d'exagération, et détruit l'harmonie de n'importe quel visage. ~ Lord Henry, in The Picture of Dorian Gray - Oscar Wilde.

Journalists, to your textbooks.

2005-12-04T00:04:00.000-05:00

Some time ago, a friend of mine suggested to me, jokingly of course, that I should drop school and go into journalism. While I whole-heartedly agree with the dropping school part, there is no chance that I'll go into journalism. The idea could maybe occur to me in an alternative reality where I actually have talent, but it also requires purpose. First, journalism requires you to write boring articles describing reality, or boring articles deforming reality, depending on the Board of Directors and the political side of the thing. Secondly, journalism doesn't allow you to use your style, doesn't let you describe what you want, and really is just full of "doesn't". And, to make it worse, journalists have a tendency to write pieces of shit when it comes to science.

I'd argue that it's because they do not know anything about science. Or just, anything at all. Honestly, I doubt one of them knows how to do a kinematics calculation, or a chemical equation balancing. "Science" for humanities grads, is a word that is synonym with "Godlike". They require no justification for it, because they wouldn't understand the justification of an experiment. Suffice to say, "scientists affirmed". This is probably why we get articles that are so boiled down, that all you retain from it is "scientists affirmed that there is a direct correlation between the size of your hand and that of your penis". No shit. Usually, people are somewhat proportional. But then again. Why the heck would they find a study on the size of people's penises!?

Because some universities are also full of shit. The Ig Nobel Prize is a good example of it. Some of those research subjects are so dumb, it sounds impossible that someone thought about it. Do we have too many "researchers"? Or is it because those researches have to lick humanities grads' asses to get a research grant, and thus have to write ludicrous papers with a complex title? "How String Theory relates to penis size". I mean... I imagine any CEO would want to know more. Maybe they hope String Theory will help them find a cure to their lack of manhood. Because, let me explain carefully, String Theory tells you how to fix your dick with strings so that it grows bigger.

"Therein lies Nintendogs inexorable pull: It’s the first game powered by empathy. These things are much more convincing than the Tomogatchis, those rudimentary keychain creatures from the first virtual pet craze a decade ago" - LAWeekly
TOmOgAtchis own you. Learn to write, fucktard. It's useless plugging in "existentialism" and Alan Turing if you can't copy/paste a word. You filthy journalist.

It's been a while.

2005-11-22T20:30:00.001-05:00

For all possible meanings of it. It's been a while since I posted here, and since I've felt like writing something. Tonight, I must vent out, cause I feel like shit.

Back in the early ages of humanity, there were MMORPGs called muds. Those things, they fuck up your mind, fucks it up real good. A good friend of mine had warned me about their negative sides, and how dire the consequences. Of course, that same person introduced me to muds, and I've been wasting hours, no, thousands of hours of my life into it since then. Never before has it been affecting me this greatly. When it gets to you however, it grips you, tores your fucking heart, mind and body apart, and leaves you in plump pieces of flesh, that bleeds its life through all the uncovered areas. In other words, everywhere. For those of you that play MMORPGs, beware. Seriously, those things are dangerous.

It's been a while since I felt human. And now that I do, I say shit, humans suck. For the people that believe in Creationism, let me ask you something. How in Satan's name could God create such fucked up beings? Did he copy himself? Are we replicas of him? If we are, he is fucking flawed. The world would be much, much better with an army of non-thinking, non-feeling organisms. Or, it'd be much better if there was no life, a bleak and empty place where nothing happens. I swear there must be a way to prove using some stupid theory of philosophy that the world would be much better if it never existed. Like Douglas Adams said, "In the beginning the Universe was created. This has made a lot of people very angry and has been widely regarded as a bad move." That guy was a genius.

I've long regarded people that vent and rant on their life on a blog as losers. Sorry to those of you folks that do it, it's just that I didn't understand you. It is also one of my beliefs that I am personally one of the biggest losers, but it's been more than 5 years now since I felt the need to express myself, and write. It's been a while. Does everyone that feels like writing must feel like shit? If I was to reformulate this using my previous line of thinking, I'd have to say that writing must be done by humans. It's unfortunate that being human is such a crappy state. It's been a while since I've felt alive.

It's been a while, since then. I haven't been insane in quite some time, it was bound to happen. Your grasp on reality starts to change, and suddenly, instead of watching your life as a stranger, you are yourself. That is some pure bullshit. What's going to happen is, suddenly you're going to feel artistic, start drawing, writing, playing music... I've long despised artists. For the last 5 years, at least. Artists.. well they have feelings, so necessarily, they are lower beings. Instead of living their life for others, they do what they do for themselves. No one will sculpt anything, if it wasn't for themselves. And if they do, well it's for money, and I do not consider it Art. Basically, artists are self-centered losers. Serves them right, keep flipping your freaking burger, I need it by 12h45 cause I've got to work, unlike you.

My humanity works like a backward stock market. Sometimes I regain some of it, but over a longer period, it's bound to go down. And yes, you should invest in stocks if you want money 20 years from now. It's not the safest way to earn money, but down the road, it's the one that offers the best rate of return and is really pretty safe. Back on humanity, I know that today, I regain some of it. And, I wish I'd lose it. If I can keep up the negative thinking long enough, I can end up even more jaded and cynical. How cool would that be?

It's been a while since I've wrote a complete piece of crap that doesn't mean anything to anyone but myself. I hope it'll be a long while, let's hope something close to infinite time, before I do it again. I disgust myself.

It is nothing to die; it is horrible not to live. ~Victor Hugo

I fucking wish I was born dead.

Rain boots.

2005-10-25T13:38:00.000-04:00

Ok, let's make it clear. I love rain boots. They allow you to jump in water ponds. Now that it's clear, let's get to the point: in no circumstances are you allowed to wear rain boots, unless the entire city is drowning. Let me explain this. I know it is raining outside, that you fear your shoes can get wet. However, please understand that rain boots are fucking ugly. If you are a girl clothed in garments, even if you're slut (or, especially), if you consider yourself someone that most people would call "chick", you cannot wear rain boots. I thought that was a well-known fact. Understand that fook-me boots will also protect your feet from the water. They might make you a whore, but at least, it doesn't destroy your style. Even geeks do not wear rain boots to go to school, so no one is supposed to wear rain boots. End of discussion.

The Giz!

2005-10-20T13:03:00.000-04:00

As a nice follow-up to Thompson's story, he's now under investigation.

Next. Have you ever heard of the Gizmondo? It is a fantastic product that is gonna blow the DS and the PSP out the window. Out of Earth's orbit probably. As GPS satellites. Now, let's face it, the actual product does seem interesting. More features than the PSP, nice hardware, integrated GPS, etc. But that's before reading a CNN review (Of course, take it with some salt. CNN being, CNN.), which points out some... disadvantages. Let's not even mention some of the games. We understand that with a new console that has practically no backup from anyone, it's hard to get good games. Even though Colors sounds cool. Let's rather talk about... loading time. The CNN review mentions 48 seconds to boot up the device. Another ZDNet review mentions 20 seconds. Assuming it takes around 30 seconds to boot, that's more than my PC. Let's face it, any portable gaming platform that takes 30 seconds to boot is doomed. Imagine how crazy that'd be? You're waiting for the bus. You get your Giz, press On, and then have the time to finish the Rubik's Cube before it loads. WTF. Seemingly it's almost as hard to turn off. That's some great design, right there. Then you look at the price, which is either 229 US bucks, or 399. That's right! At that price, I can probably get a lousy laptop. Which is still better than a 400Mhz handheld that boots in 30 sec. And don't forget your cherry on your sundae! The 229$ version comes with... ads. HELLO!? A portable gaming device with ads!? What the fuck? I don't know what they were thinking at Tiger. Or rather, if they were thinking... Because that, THAT, is unbelievable. Assuming we can excuse an horrible price of above 200$ US and insane boot time, no one can excuse ads. Hey, peeps are blocking ads on the internet, for stuff they don't even pay for! And they ship something with ads. On a portable gaming system.

Do you guys even remember Tiger? They used to make those portable electronic games, that had only one game. You know. The fixed positions on the screen, and you were just seeing a ball move in discrete, fixed distances? Like "Ball is incoming. Me have choice of 4 positions, me gotta block ball. Yay!" The games were stuff like, Disney Space Jam, which I still have, Power Rangers and the sort. And, undoubtedly, those machines probably own the Gizmondo. Because, at the time, they were fun. Push on, play, no menu, no nothing, just play. Of course, they won't sell now since we have GBA and stuff, but it's sad to see that Tiger forgot its origins and is trying to emule the PSP, while failing badly. I think I'd rather buy a Phantom.

Thompson is the PWN

2005-10-18T13:43:00.000-04:00

I LOVE that guy. He is awesome. I'll not bother you with the actual story, because I guess you all know about it. If you don't, you really should. I'll not even link it, just read PA, slashdot, vgcats, the internet, the links are there, somewhere. Anyway.

The thing with Thompson is, he's gone crazy. You can't go and add "or else" to every sentence you write. It's one thing to defend your case, and say that young kids shouldn't be allowed to play GTA. That, most gamers agree on. There are violent games out there. Just like there are violent movies. And lawyers. But then, it's another thing to attack the whole community of gamers and show blatant hate. That's just losing it, and being unprofessional. I mean... writing that "satire" piece was okay. I accepted it. You think you're cool stuff, you can provoke people, sure. But when people listen to you, and do what you want, you fill up your end of the bargain. What happens? No, he denies everything, and proclaims that he's the shit and that gamers can't understand witty satire. Coming from Thompson. Ok, cool, sure. Fuckhead. Then PA shows up, gives ten grand, and rubs it in his face. I guess he didn't feel good about it, because he called the cops. But hey dude, ain't you a lawyer? What did you call the cop for?... Harassment? Man, how can you even think about defending a case like that? People should write to Thompson with "or else" attached to every sentence. Go sue him. How long can he defend himself?

In conclusion, it appears obvious that Thompson is a piece of shit. Considering that:
1. He's a piece of shit
2. He's a piece of shit
3. Refer to article 1 and 2.
It should be clear to the jury that Thompson is a piece of shit. Seriously though. When you're a lawyer, just defend your case. Use clear arguments. Try to sway the public opinion if you can, but do it professionally. Do not go crazy.

Grow up and take your responsibilities.

2005-10-12T13:00:00.000-04:00

There is a general trend in modern society, where everyone blames others but never themselves. I think there was that shitty song, "It wasn't me", or something. But that's beside the point. Today, Howard Schmidt, ex-White House cybersecurity advisor, said that developers should be liable for security holes. What the fuck? I know, it sounds acceptable when you say that the one that makes mistakes should pay for them. But is a developer really the one that makes the mistakes? A developer, and a software company, should make sure they build a software as well as they can. If you asked for a particular feature, and instead you get a bug ("Uhm. That wasn't a bug. That was our intended feature." - *cough*), then the company/developer/whomever/your mom is liable. But security flaws? That's like saying, I know you built a nice bridge, but it got nuked. I want a refund. You see, it's impossible to test every possible flaws and attacks. You just... can't. It's possible to design your bridge to resist high winds, medium earthquakes, etc. Because, that just might happen. It's the same in software, you can expect the developers to do what they can for security, but you can't expect something perfect.

Also, in the most recent episode involving Jack Thompson, he proposed a video game scenario. The real link is now dead -correction, it reappeared, screw the Fairy, you know you wanna-, due to the involvement of Miss Fairy. I mean, *coughpoliticalpowermoneycorrutionbushismfucktardinesscough*. Please read a small summary by Joystiq, instead. So basically, what he wants is a chainsaw -er, baseball bat massacre game? Shouldn't that be easy to do? Someone should seriously mod GTA, and hand that mod to him. Guys, that's ten grand, to a good cause! Then sell the mod for, uhm, 1$ per download, and beat his offer using that money. But seriously though... Grow up. If you think banning violent video games with do the trick and save your dying education system, you suck. The problem is not games. It's everything, including Thompson. Movies, music, way of thinking, everything. And you can't ban everything. If you want your kid to grow up without being subjected to extreme violence in games, don't fucking buy the game.

Don't fuck with us. ~Ctrl-alt-del, Tim Buckley.

Shoot me first, baby.

2005-10-07T23:35:00.000-04:00

Guns are a bad invention. No need to chop the head off, hack the limbs, and disenbowel anyone. Point, and click. Knowing that (or perhaps, not knowing that), some countries allow their citizens to have guns. Why? Oh, I dunno. Pleasure. Utility. Self-defense. At least usually, their usage are somewhat regulated. But that is clearly not the case in Florida, governed by a popular Bush person. Because now, you can shoot someone based on the fact that you feel endangered. Kind of like, pre-emptive strike. It should be a well-known fact by now, mental illnesses run in the family. Anyway. So the new law permits you to shoot, provided the fact that you fear for your own safety. Because obviously, if you have a gun, you feel much safer. You probably feel much safer also knowing every other guy walking on the street has a gun. And that if you get attacked, you won't get beaten and sent to the hospital with some injuries. No, you'll die, with your brain splattered on the wall because someone shot you. Definitely, so many arguments for keeping guns. While we're at it, I suggest the US removes all its laws. Why would you need law when you can maintain your law using a gun? It's the same thing with their foreign policy. Why respect agreements, conventions, contracts, sanity when you can pre-emptively strike someone, without retaliation?

For every fatal shooting, there were roughly three non-fatal shootings. And, folks, this is unacceptable in America. It's just unacceptable. And we're going to do something about it.
—Pres. Bush, Philadelphia, Penn., May 14, 2001

Hegemony.

2005-09-30T21:04:00.000-04:00

For a long time, I didn't know the Internet was controlled by the United States. If I knew, I probably would never have tried it. That last bit was a lie, and a huge one. So anyway. It seems that, since the Internet is so mainstream now, there should be some kind of world organization that manages it. But, 'lo and behold, Bush doesn't agree (and seriously, does he ever agree with something, except that "Resistance is futile. Terrorists will be assimilated."). On one hand, we can understand that the Internet was mainly developed and funded in the States. On the other hand, it'll be like saying "No one can make paper, except China". You can't control the Internet, simply because its users will not agree with it. Try protecting ICANN, and see how long it will last if the rest of the world makes another comittee?

Why are they so dumb though? What possible good can you obtain, if you go against everyone else's will? No matter how many soldiers you have, you still can't force your political views and system. Look, Bush can't even invade Irak properly. Now he's saying what, "I shall rule over the Internet with my mighty force"? Because, what will happen if everyone else decides to create their organization to manage their Internet? He will not succeed in excluding everyone else from the Internet. He'll manage to emprison his own country within their own big Intranet. There is this great game, called Go. Managers and decision makers should all learn it, it could make them more intelligent, or at least more thoughtful.

Talking about thoughtfulness, most people should know by now that music compagnies feel Steve Jobs is ripping them off. Because, seriously, 0.99$ for an mp3 song that doesn't even cost them the physical CD is clearly not enough. We should up it to the price people pay for cellphone rings, maybe? I find their claim to be ridiculous. But look, there is worse. Threatening to scalp iTunes? For fuck's sake. They should realize that no one, no one would pay 0.99$ per song, encoded in a lossy protocol, if it weren't for mp3 players such as the iPod. It would give me the choice between having a CD, being able to backup it and encode better quality mp3, or simply having an mp3 that I could lose if my HD dies. Good job. Give me your cash, because else, I'll shoot myself in the foot. A great argument, Jobs should tremble in his sleep.

Also, check this site -beware (chocolate-chip) cookies and russian scriptings. In the Holy name of the Bald Eagle, I bless you. Har. Because the national animal is also bald. Funny.

... A long time ago, in 2005, the First Space War begun.

2005-09-22T20:05:00.000-04:00

I was about to talk about EA and how they have no sense of innovation whatsoever. Instead, I'll talk about how Space War is about to begin, and how no one fucking talks about it. I'll link you to this article, from the Washington Times. If you read it, and think about it, it is scary. Probably the third most scary thing, after "pre-emptive strikes" and Bush/American voters' stupidity. So now, unhappy with only sea, air and land warfare, they bring it to space. To boldly go where no man has gone before. No seriously, what kind of crap is that? They were talking about it this summer also, but eventually said that if they do it, others will do it. And now guess what they do? Go ahead and launch a space satellite jammer. Fucking morons. Why do we never know about that stuff? "Hey I've just placed a nuke in orbit, I mean, I won't use it but it's there. Did you really want to know?..." No fucking shit, yes I did.

Of course, Mr. General Lord affirms that they're not talking about weaponizing space. Of course not. Because really, that's just the first mission. "Two other missions are defending satellites and conducting offensive operations against enemy spacecraft or ground signals that threaten U.S. satellites." The third mission is probably sending hypervelocity rod bundles and kill people the U.S doesn't like. Why does no one know, really, tell me? Why bother about your stupid politician taking coke when the U.S. is launching a space weapons program? Continue watching American Idol and Desperate Housewives while the country that is melting your brain in a piece of goo, that brings you piracy-hunters more tenacious than the Inquisition and that defends itself by "pre-emptively" attacking another country void of weapons now makes Star Wars a thing of the present. Fucking fuckers. And it's not like these two articles are just random ones that a bored journalist shitted out. If you do some research, you can actually find many others. What's that, in 20 years the U.S. will be called The Empire, and at the head of it, the President will be called Sauron, the Dark Lord?

Also notice how most, if not all U.S. government/military officials put the blame on some other country. "Oh yea, China sent a man in orbit. Isn't that scary?" "Uhm... Russia had a space station... ... And uhm... Mir was able to er, send plasma ray of God from its decrepit hole..." So basically, even if the U.S. starts by putting an offensive satellite, it's still not their fault. It's all part of the pre-emptive bullshit strategy. When's the next World War due? If they continue like that, it'll be all vs U.S. maybe? Watch your odds, bitches.

For more info about the stupidity of those fuckers, read this.

"I believe space is the place we will fight in the next 20 years," said Haver. Rich Haver is the former special assistant for intelligence to Defence Secretary Donald Rumsfeld.

Video Games, raaaaah

2005-09-21T17:46:00.000-04:00

A new study posted on /. today (actually the link points to a blog talking about it) revolutionized my world. It says that video games can deliver an emotional impact. OMFG NO REALLY? I won't talk about how silly "studies" are nowadays. Instead, I'll say that gaming is the next big thing. Of course, games can make you feel something. Heck, why would people play if they didn't feel anything? Games are interactive, they make you plunge into a virtual world that is probably far more interesting than real life. Look at all those WoWers. I hope some people manage to get a strain of the "disease" again, and infects them. But what does it matter? In MMORPGs, you first start for the RPG feeling. Your growing powers, the delight of exploring new areas... And then you get hooked. Because you're lv60 with super l33t eq? Nah. Because of the social interactions. In other words, feelings. It's the same for every RPG, and unsurprisingly -except maybe for Bowen Research- you are not attracted the same way to a flight sim.

-Please excuse this interruption. Blogger is down for maintenance. Post deleted- Thanks Blogger.

Games do have the same power as books and movies. At least, if the story is well told -or well presented. When you play with a character for a while, you get attached to it. And yes, when Aeris died, it was freaking heartbreaking. Man, that was Aeris. You can't kill Aeris like that. You get emotionally involved with your character. Just like Pokemons. And 2 years later, if you see the pic or hear the music, it'll cast nostalgia on you. Let me tell you that feeling is stronger than remembrance for books or movies, because usually don't read/watch them 40 hours in a row. If you do, you are sick. But with games... games are so gripping, you might actually play one every hour of your weekend. You'd still be sick, but it might happen. Games just take you out of your reality. And when they'll be really immersive, then the world is gonna end. By the way, music compagnies... games are like drugs, they are addictive. Make games if you want to earn money.

It so happens that games are all-powerful. They can have uses, just like books and movies, but are much more time-consuming. The problem is you revel in them. If you are a hardcore gamer, you should realize that gaming is your God. Or Satan, if your name happens to be Jack Thompson. Games are going to dethrone movies as the best way to waste your time. If you ain't convinced, you should. Because even if some developers/publishers continue to produce crap games without innovation, they do it in conjunction with the Mighty Dollar. Power marketing -yea that's like power leveling, but it's marketing o_O- will make gaming mainstream. Soon.

The Bible doesn't promote killing innocent people, Grand Theft Auto does. Islam does.
Islam promotes the killing of innocent people. The Quran requires the infidel, whether Jew or Christian, to be killed. … That's a core essence of the religion. … Muhammad was a pirate who killed infidels and who advocated the killing of infidels.

~Jack Thompson, with much <3

Joy, more love to all.

2005-09-20T20:22:00.000-04:00

Today Slashdot seems to show a flurry of oh so interesting articles. The entire entertainment industry seems to be in a state of panic faced with P2P networks and omigosh piracy. So now we have the film studios, book publishers, and the music industry taking action against their own consumers. It's funny that suddenly, compagnies are aware that we can copy what we buy. I'm not saying it is justified to download a song, a movie or a textbook. However, it's not like this is something new. Please do not tell me that you've never taped the radio, copied a cassette from a friend, made photocopies or anything of the sort. So why the heck is it getting so much attention now? Because it's suddenly made easy, just one click away? Oh come on. It never was too hard. It was always possible to copy whatever I wanted, as long as I could find it. Renting a movie still costs me 2$. Although I can now rip it, I could copy it with two magnetoscopes before, and share it with friends. All that without leaving a trace. And if I can't find the thing I'm looking for, well it's unlikely I'd know about it anyway, so I wouldn't think about buying it. What's funny is that, unhappy to overprotect products that they "possess", the RIAA wants to control other aspects of your life over which they had no power before. Like, radio. The next logical step is probably the very air you breathe.

Now tell me, what happens to the money they get "back"? Does it go to the musicians and the artists, in one way or another? I don't think so. The money they recapture, they believe them to be lost profit that they are entitled to. So they can stop saying things like, "Record companies, artists, songwriters and music publishers will suffer from a decline in sales". That money goes directly into their pockets. Next time a record company tries to sue someone, people should defend themselves. See if they can sue every Internet user, and not lose money. And if they try to lobby for laws and remove your rights, please at least rant. On another note, if you are a musician, should you be afraid of being downloaded over and over? That only proves you are popular. And anyway, the same people that download your songs will probably go buy your CD. Artists should overthrow this economic model that is doomed to fail, and take their destiny into their own hands. Because, seriously, the present system is a piece of shit.

They came for the communists, and I did not speak up because I wasn't a communist.
They came for the socialists, and I did not speak up because I was not a socialist.
They came for the union leaders, and I did not speak up because I wasn't a union leader.
They came for the Jews, and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Jew.
Then they came for me, and there was no one left to speak up for me.

~Martin Niemöller, 1892-1984

<3 Music compagnies

2005-09-19T21:34:00.000-04:00

So one of the recent activities undertaken by big music compagnies is suing. Suing someone, for one reason or another, does seem like a national sport these days. On another note, they could also RIP OFF THEIR OWN SKIN AND PUT ON A ZOMBIE MASK. But making a shitload of cash on the back of other people does seem more attractive. So, the compagnies we all love are suing Baidu, a Chinese search engine. Because, obviously, if a search engine allows you to find illegal pieces of music, they are responsible. If Bittorrent allows you to download FF7: AC, it is clearly the maker of Bittorrent that is the bad guy. If you can kill a guy with a pencil in the eyes, the pencil-maker is an incarnation of Satan. Now excuse me. If you stopped selling CDs worth 0.25$ (add in a couple bucks for your profit, and the artist's profit) at 20$, maybe we wouldn't download illegal music. Or wait. Maybe we would. Why? Because we want to listen to them if we buy them. Look, if I BUY your stuff, it is now MINE. I traded 20$ for it, you got your money, I got your product. Stop fooling around and telling me I can't use it, rip it, or shove it up your ass if I want to. If your car manufacturer told you you can only use your car in the city you bought it, I think you'd say, "Screw you." Because it is downright unfair. So why can't we put the music we bought on a MP3 player? Because it reduces your profit? _DIE_. So, if we go down the corrupted spiral we are on right now, we'll be sure less and less people buy your product. So much for Britney. Music producers, copyright protectionists, US lawmakers, patent freaks, here's a message for you: the next time I'll want to waste good money and be left with an unsatisfactory product, I'll call your mom.

WTF is wrong with me

2005-09-19T12:54:00.000-04:00

HI. I made a freaking blog, isn't that like, scary?... Yea it is. FEAR. As Kev put it,

Kev-o says:
yeah, you're like 2 years late on the fad.

Well, I KNOW. So, log here if you want baseless rants based on baseless nothing. Or just don't read me. See if I care.