tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30968102011-06-20T23:31:04.529-07:00God's Three Dimensional Digital ChalkboardWhosoforwhatwherearthou?Sethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03266878396099502671noreply@blogger.comBlogger181100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3096810.post-1126574437858276982005-09-12T18:19:00.000-07:002005-09-12T18:20:37.856-07:00Talk about being hopelessly out of date-- man, a brave new world this is. As soon as I can shake off some of the cobwebs, I'll see if I can make more a go of this.Sethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03266878396099502671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3096810.post-1126574078269133342005-09-12T18:08:00.000-07:002005-09-12T18:14:38.276-07:00Brought up from the depths, to once again bask in the dim spotlight of obscurity. But isn't that the point, folk(s)? I/we are here to cast our shadows, and nothing more... after all, without a guarantee of an outside audience, this is just manifestation of ego, I/we reckon.But on to happier things, eh? Better than 2 and a half years since an update... wow. I blame messageboards-- like Sethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03266878396099502671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3096810.post-915927432003-03-28T23:28:00.000-08:002003-03-28T23:28:49.466-08:00Okay, this one has been bothering me for awhile, but it flits in and out at just those moments when I think I've got it pinned down, and might commit it to the nowehere... so before it makes way again, here it is:
How is it, that in post-apocalyptic visions of all kinds, when man has raised his hand in anger, and set loose whatever variety of weapon of mass destruction upon his fellow man, thatSethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03266878396099502671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3096810.post-873443102003-01-13T00:35:00.000-08:002003-01-13T00:35:40.200-08:00Man, o man, o man, o man. Where does the time go, I wonder? Trickling down the slippery rocks into obscurity. Better'n 7 months since I last made my mark-- I blame internet discussion boards completely-- sometimes the words ask for feedback-- they crave it almost. Sometimes, on the other hand, it's just nice to let the fingers fly and care little of the outcome. It's late, I'm sick, I'm Sethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03266878396099502671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3096810.post-779078042002-06-18T15:23:00.000-07:002002-06-18T15:23:26.496-07:00Woo hoo, summer, right? Not much. Too hot, too bored, too many damn kids runnin' around that are usually under the blissful incarceration of school. Now nothing is safe. I like to pop in around every three months or so, whenever the whim strikes me. It's tougher lately, as the immediate feedback of the bulletin board has proved all too alluring. So here are the words saved for no one in Sethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03266878396099502671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3096810.post-109228372002-03-19T22:30:00.000-08:002002-03-19T22:30:03.960-08:00Turns out I have fans! Or at least one. Good enough for me. ;)
So I can't let my public down! So for today, I'll begin with the requisite disclaimer:
Hacks.
I think poetry is the stuff of hacks. And I have a degree in English, so not all of my talking is coming from my posterior-- some of it actually has some backing. So I have, in response to the "poets" of the world, who think that Sethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03266878396099502671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3096810.post-90184452002-01-24T16:06:00.000-08:002002-01-24T16:06:47.540-08:00Blam! Blam! Blam! NO, I really don't know where that's going. This morning, mired in that pre-9am funk, I had a swell rant a-brewing, but hours of boredom and complacency have fairly well obliterated it. I noticed that I had gone so long between blogs that my auto-cookie had dropped, and I actually had to log back in!! This cannot stand.
Today's update? Jan 24, 20 ought 2: Winter is Sethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03266878396099502671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3096810.post-76579882001-12-04T23:25:00.000-08:002001-12-04T23:25:51.433-08:00Let's discuss the issue that plagues me-- yes, plagues me-- perhaps more than even all others combinant. I think that it is perhaps because I can't drop it-- you know, everyone has a harp that they simply cannot resist playing, so of course I must have mine. And I do. What is it, you ask, breathless?? Exclusivity.
I don't like even the notion of people who voluntarily segregate themselves Sethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03266878396099502671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3096810.post-65842422001-10-24T10:25:00.000-07:002001-10-24T10:25:57.393-07:00I got into a notion again. You see, much of my inhereted kinfolk have what I would call a stange prediliction towards religion. Which is not to say that they live their lives by the credos that they so vehemently adhere to, but I'm not here to name names or point fingers so I'll just get on with my diatribe and try not to scrunch too many feelings, particularly those who live in close proximitySethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03266878396099502671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3096810.post-64836362001-10-20T09:44:00.000-07:002001-10-20T09:44:15.133-07:00There really is nothing that quite compares to the pleasure of having altercations with inanimate objects-- particularly those that I have myself paid for. Generally differing from day to day, I fight with the car, with the damn computer, with the humanoid looking automatons at the Carl's Jr. up the street. Always to no avail.
Speaking of which, I actually bought that third DVD player. They Sethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03266878396099502671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3096810.post-50583542001-08-12T23:15:00.000-07:002001-12-04T23:34:31.000-08:00Do you ever go back and try to think a thought over again? Or look at a date in a book or on a ledger, or even right here in fizzling electronic glory, and try to think what you thought then? It can't be done. Unfortunately, though the mind does have an infinitely long roll of film, it's not at all like those trendy sticky-picture Polaroid cameras. The filing system is screwed up, there's Sethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03266878396099502671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3096810.post-49719192001-08-07T23:58:00.000-07:002001-08-07T23:58:11.146-07:00Rented The Mexican on DVD. Incompatible with everything. No PS2, skidded by on the G4. As if the Carl's isn't enough punishment, I have to deal with the newly-formed triple threat tag team of Buena Vista Pictures, Dreamworks, and the neighborhood Blockbuster. I am in all aspects a good consumer-- I have rotating debt, I purchase "new and improved items" I have no less than three different Sethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03266878396099502671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3096810.post-49314972001-08-05T22:49:00.000-07:002001-08-05T22:49:08.820-07:00This land may be our land, but apparently we have to reserve separate and independent Gods.
I've come to be un unwitting victim of religious exclusivity. You see, the bulk of my inhereted family and their associates have all,, at one point or another, "found" some relationship with the halo-toting, cloud-riding, bush-burning God of Gods that is fit to adorn the top of the mount and steeple Sethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03266878396099502671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3096810.post-49080182001-08-04T11:35:00.000-07:002001-08-04T11:35:32.886-07:00Whatever I said yesterday was shit, and you can quote me on that. Weekends are the days that your working friends don't think that they (or You for that matter) have done enough during the week so they manage to conjure up the most heinous brands of labor possible, and automatically draft you into the scheme, which invariably seems to involve handling some form of garbage in some manner or Sethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03266878396099502671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3096810.post-48899032001-08-03T09:15:00.000-07:002001-08-03T09:15:04.763-07:00I'm always more mellow on Fridays. I don't really know why, as the weekends to me are just two other days of the week (the S days) but I am nonetheless just more thoroughly chilled. Rants on religion are generally reserved for midweek. It's too early.Sethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03266878396099502671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3096810.post-48692152001-08-02T08:34:00.000-07:002001-08-02T08:34:11.793-07:00Stealing bottlecaps
I've always had something of an individual stand on the issue of faith-- particularly in the commonly used religious sense. I am now, and frankly always have been baffled by the blind faith-- and further still, the absolute, utter willingness to believe just about any old damn thing that cannot be seen with the eye while rejecting virtually every thing that can be held in Sethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03266878396099502671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3096810.post-48549052001-08-01T10:42:00.000-07:002001-08-01T10:42:29.236-07:00Just a short note to remember the day-- The 21st century philosopher Jimmy Pop Ali warned appropriately that we should resist the Olsen twins-- I'd like to add that one should at all costs avoid the thing that I call Pacific Bell Internet. I really really really really mean that-- avoiding. At all costs. Before it's too late.
By the slight way, I didn't think that Planet of the Apes was thatSethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03266878396099502671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3096810.post-48216582001-07-30T17:24:00.000-07:002001-07-30T17:24:42.930-07:00I once had a fairly stable idea involved the personification of greater human mental precepts-- you know, the stuff of ballad and cheesey poem, anything akin to "luck be a lady tonight". Why only tonight? Why can't luck be a lady every night? Are there foreseeable circumstances in which luck may be forced to act with prostitutional morals, or just out-and-out screw people over for the sheer Sethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03266878396099502671noreply@blogger.com