Tales of Passion

ZOMBIE BENTHAM

2008-05-04T22:52:00.004-05:00

HI Friends it has been too god damn long. I almost gave up on this blog thing--but sychronicity baby!
Bam 1: I learn about zombie bentham.
Bam 2: I finished my big nasty ass paper for the semester. I can smell summer.
Bam 3: My robot x friend posted one funny ass blog.
Bam 4: Crazy dreams about mortality. Inspired by zombie Bentham? who knows.

Fact: Utilitarians are nuts: "The cabinet contains Bentham's preserved skeleton, dressed in his own clothes, and surmounted by a wax head. Bentham requested that his body be preserved in this way in his will made shortly before his death on 6 June 1832. The cabinet was moved to UCL in 1850.

Not surprisingly, this peculiar relic has given rise to numerous legends and anecdotes. One of the most commonly recounted is that the Auto-Icon regularly attends meetings of the College Council, and that it is solemnly wheeled into the Council Room to take its place among the present-day members. Its presence, it is claimed, is always recorded in the minutes with the words Jeremy Bentham - present but not voting. Another version of the story asserts that the Auto-Icon does vote, but only on occasions when the votes of the other Council members are equally split. In these cases the Auto-Icon invariably votes for the motion.

Bentham had originally intended that his head should be part of the Auto-Icon, and for ten years before his death (so runs another story) carried around in his pocket the glass eyes which were to adorn it. Unfortunately when the time came to preserve it for posterity, the process went disastrously wrong, robbing the head of most of its facial expression, and leaving it decidedly unattractive. The wax head was therefore substituted, and for some years the real head, with its glass eyes, reposed on the floor of the Auto-Icon, between Bentham's legs. However, it proved an irresistible target for students, especially from King's College London, who stole the head in 1975 and demanded a ransome of £100 to be paid to the charity Shelter. UCL finally agreed to pay a ransome of £10 and the head was returned. On another occasion, according to legend, the head, again stolen by students, was eventually found in a luggage locker at a Scottish Station (possibly Aberdeen). The last straw (so runs yet another story) came when it was discovered in the front quadrangle being used for football practice, and the head was henceforth placed in secure storage."

Utilitarian Hedonist=future zombie.
Stick with the Stoa my friends. You can be happy on the rack and when you die you can rot like a man.

Things that are okay

2008-03-29T10:28:00.004-05:00

This picture is okay.

Other news:
The movie "Fitna" gets a big thumbs up from Professor Smooth Hands. I watched it, and felt kind of sick. It might be xenophobic and it paints in broad strokes. Still, I have heard enough idiots shout that zionism=racism and that Islam is the religion of peace. I have yet to hear a good argument for either claim. I am curious to hear your thoughts on the film.
Before anyone poo poo's the film's thesis, note that the website that first hosted this film had to take it down due to death threats.

Watch the film and leave a comment or give me a call.

Its time for change!

2008-02-14T17:24:00.005-06:00

I am not a fan of most politicos. But there is a politician (not the awesome guy pictured above) we can love. There is a politician who can lead. I, Professor Passion, hereby endorse Mark B Graham for President of the United States. Click on the title of this blog to learn about this great man.

Huckabee sucks. Does Kant?

2007-12-12T09:18:00.001-06:00

I want a cat

2007-11-30T07:48:00.000-06:00

Keepin' it Fresh

2007-11-27T07:53:00.000-06:00

Here at Tales of Passion, Professor Passion works hard to stay abreast with all the current cultural poops. Well readers, today I review one of the biggest cultural poops I have ever seen: The movie 300.

This movie was not very good. It is about a bunch of Spartans who have big hole in the center of their town. Their king kicks some guy into the hole while shouting the name of his town. “This is Sparta,” he said, and he kicks some guy into a hole. They could have called the movie “Sparta, and the Great Hole kick”

The king kicked the guy because he did or said something wrong. Its not really clear what he did, but the viewer can be confident that the Spartan King did the right thing when he kicked the guy down the hole because his hot wife nodded at him. It is only after she nods that he kicks the guy down the hole. They could have called this movie “The Kick Happy King and the Wife who nods”

The guy who got kicked was a Persian. This means he was probably a monster of some sort. According to this movie the Persian army had lots of monsters. They even had big birds or dragons flying overhead when they came ashore to Greece. They also had a giant grey guy with them who was all chained up except when he fought the King of Sparta. The Spartans fought for Freedom. The Persians fought for Xerxes, an effeminate muscle man with a deep voice. He seemed nice.

The Spartans were crafty fighters. They jumped around in loincloths and built walls of corpses that they pushed on a single Persian. Boy oh boy did they put the name “immortal” to the test. Hyuck Yuck. “Immortal” is the name of the elite Persian swordsman unit. According to this film the “immortals” might have been zombies. Their faces were all jacked and grey. A good subtitle for this movie would be “The Zombie that died when Spartans push bodies.”

The King of Sparta knew that the best place to fight a giant zombie army with a few red towel wearing men was by a cliff and canyon. The Spartans kept running into waves of Persians though, and hardly used the Phalanx formation that was their strength. Instead, they put on the Korn real loud and rocked the ass out of the Persians. They were so good at slow motion killing that the muscle man named Xerxes rubbed the Spartan King's back. This movie should have been called, “Don’t rub the King, unless you want a spear in the cheek.”

While all this fighting was going on, the movie flashed back to some politics. Some of the Spartan guys were in congress and they sucked. The queen got raped by one of them and then killed his ass. Also she gave a speech. The king and queen knew it was time to fight because “Freedom isn’t free.” The old guys didn’t know this. She told them that the fighting was necessary. This movie wasn’t. Some guy who looked like ET got a uniform and some love action with lesbians. The king told him to live forever. I will think of this movie as “The Unnecessary Hunchback who got sexed up by Lesbians”

It is easier to link movies than to write

2007-11-13T22:38:00.000-06:00

I've had many discussions about why I don't really care about the music scene. Now that I'm getting old this hasn't been a problem of late. People tend to recognize their hobbies as just that, and people seem to acknowledge that one might have other things to do with their time than worry about the new flavor of the week. I also tend to like the music that my friends make. I don't hate musicians.
So I am not raging against the scene anymore.
I thought however I would still share this. Here is irrefutabe proof that the recent years of "nerd rock" was a lie: When real nerds (not the losers that can't do math but affect the mannerisms of nerds) make Rock n Roll, it doesn't sound sensitive, pretty or even heartfelt. It sounds angry, confused and disturbed. This is what is missing from all the "smart" bands that people recommend to me. This is what is sounds like when DEVO cries:

And this is maybe the greatest music video ever made. Rock concerts are creepy. Devo shows us how creepy:

When Men Were Men and Wrestlers Were Crazy

2007-11-11T11:29:00.000-06:00

I haven't watch wrestling in many years. And while I am not against the funny story lines that the wrestling shows now feature, I do miss the pure nonsense that pro-wrestling once was. Even if wrestling bores you, I think, that if you are in any way rational you can see the obvious need for a talk show where coked up steroid using "eccentrics" can expound about the big picture. I'd certainly watch it.

Eagle vs Sloth. You may be surprised who wins.

2007-11-08T22:54:00.000-06:00

Sometimes you just gotta sit down and think about some math questions.

2007-11-07T19:12:00.000-06:00

Mathematics, rightly viewed,
Possesses not only Truth,
But supreme Beauty
Beauty cold and austere,like sculpture,
Without appeal to any part of our weaker nature,
Without the gorgeous trappings of painting or music,
Yet sublimely pure,
Capable of a stern perfection such as only the greatest art can show.
The true spirit of delight,
The exaltation,
The sense of being more than Man,
which is the touchstone of the highest excellence,
Is to be found in mathematics
As surely as in poetry.

--BERTRAND RUSSELL, Study of Mathematics

Reason #3948573 not to watch the news

2007-11-01T15:23:00.000-05:00

Pay attention to the lead in to this story and the righteous indignation that follows. Also pay attention to what Giuliani actually says: He says "Assad." Not "Osama." Then laff at the irony of unfairly attributing claims to a man so you can criticize that man for unfairly attributing claims to people.

Truth to power my ass.

Another quote about Spinoza:

2007-10-27T18:25:00.000-05:00

The most opposite parties arrayed themselves against Spinoza. The aspect of this army of adversaries is highly amusing. Near a swarm of black and white Capuchins bearing cross and censer, marches the phalanx of the Encyclopedist, who also take aim at this "daring thinker"; by the side of the Rabbi of the synagogue of Amsterdam, who sounds the attack with the sacred buck's-horn, advances Arouet de Voltaire, playing obligato on the shrill pipe of irony for the benefit of deism.
-Heinrich Heine

My favorite post-game interview:

2007-10-26T08:10:00.001-05:00

Just so everyone knows, the translation is accurate. I read about the contents of Darko's rant nearly a month before this video is surfaced. Believe: what you read is what he said.

Meet Professor Pussy, the enemy of Professor Passion:

2007-10-22T22:54:00.000-05:00

Public Lavatory Shenanigans!

2007-10-20T22:18:00.000-05:00

"This is the joke about a Mr. Nussbaum, who goes to his rabbi to announce that his beloved dog Buster has just died and that he would be grateful if the rabbi would say a memorial service for the dog. The rabbi, after expressing his condolences, tells Mr. Nussbaum that Jews are not permitted to say memorial services for animals.
Mr. Nussbaum informs the rabbi that he has no other family, that Buster meant everything to him, that he would be willing to make a serious contribution to the rabbi’s special fund for working with inner-city children if he would accommodate him here.
The rabbi, not an inflexible man, tells Mr. Nussbaum that, all right, he will do the service for Buster the next day in the small synagogue at 2:30. And so the following day, the rabbi goes through the service and speaks about the dog for roughly fifteen minutes. Mr. Nussbaum, alone in the audience, listens, tears in his eyes.
When it is over, he approaches the rabbi, hands him a check for $5,000, and says: “Rabbi, I shall always be grateful to you for what you did for me and for Buster. It meant the world to me. And what you said about my beloved dog has moved me greatly. Do you know, Rabbi, till this afternoon I had no idea how much Buster had done for Israel.”-From Joseph Epstein

I was reminded of this joke when using the restroom at the student union. I always love reading bathroom stall graffiti: Who writes this stuff? Who thinks while taking a dump that, now, NOW is the time to express myself? It is a great mystery to me and I can’t resist speculating on the psychology of bathroom stall writers.

Anyway I was reminded of this joke because in this toilet stall there was written, “Israel sucks balls” “Israel=Jewish Nazis” and the spiritually uplifting, “Free Palestine.” Someone out there is so awesome in their goodness that even their act of defecation was in promotion of a nation’s cause. Even with a turd floating beneath them they recognized the opportunity to be a voice of liberation and a voice of hope. I also can’t help but smile at the probability that this was done by some kid who hates the dehumanization of peoples that is implicit in colonialist rhetoric.

Gonna be some sweet sounds, coming down on the night shift!

2007-10-13T17:31:00.000-05:00

If I am ever in a band, I want all my videos to feature me and the guys putting on make up. You might think smiling at other guys and putting on make up in a video could lead to some awkward images. You might be right. Watch what can only be called a mistake. A brilliant mistake. As a bonus you get to listen to a kick ass song.

Before Jerry there was Morton

2007-10-11T08:24:00.000-05:00

The whole thing is awesome but check out 2:06!

We dance round in a ring and suppose, But the secret sits in the middle and knows.

2007-10-10T12:27:00.000-05:00

-Robert Frost

Used as the opening to Edwin Curely's first book on Spinoza

The Great Outdoor Panda Fight (with Chinese announcer)

2007-10-07T23:33:00.000-05:00

A Great Article

2007-10-06T11:36:00.000-05:00

As of today, it has been four years since my friend David was killed by a Hezbollah sniper. There is an article you can link to in the title above that made me think of my friend. It is a very good article. I think it sort of explains my disgust with activists and the state of political discourse in academia today. Just a reminder to the self righteous: Not all soldiers are ignorant jar-heads. Not everyone who disagrees with you, disagrees with you because they lack education. You, and not your opposition, might be the one fighting/campaigning for a worse world.

This is not a Joke!

2007-10-05T07:18:00.000-05:00

http://ricflairfinance.com/

Rick....Champ....Natch....Could you finance my house?

Thanks fashion dudes

2007-10-04T21:20:00.000-05:00

This anecdote is a bit old (3 weeks) but it is as true today as it was then:
I just got done blastin' my quads at the gym and I attempted to get on my bike. To straddle my bike I had to lift to my leg over the bike seat and the horizontal bar that forms the familiar triangle shape that we all associate with manly bikes. As I lift my leg over the bar my shorts tear apart right along the crotch. I mean a big ol' rip. I stood there in disbelief staring at the gigantic opening that revealed my groin. I was wearing underwear of course, but not boxers. Boxer briefs. When lifting weights I go in for the extra support boxer briefs provide and the insurance against wang hang-age I so sorely need. Who wants to be the guy whose sack is showing while doing sits up?

So I stand there with total crotch exposure and a fairly long bike ride home. I am not a big fan of riding around with tight crotch undies. It is also Game Day on campus so the streets are filled with people. I decided there was nothing I could do and get on my bike. I shake my head in disgust when I realize by pedaling I only exacerbate the situation. I feel decidedly "uncool." As I ride however, I start relaxing and realize that there are lot of people who intentionally look stupid. In fact, I have seen people wear outfits that are so torn even hobos would reject the clothes as "disutilitarian" (that word is a shout-out to the casual ninja.) I start riding with confidence. Tight crotch exposure is new look. I am "dude" with fashion sense. I am teenage fashion show.
I didn't receive a second look from anyone. Alternative fashion saved me from embarrassment.

Buy more shorts: Rice says nations must fight climate change like terrorism

2007-09-28T21:46:00.000-05:00

I found this "joke" on Jihad Watch. I like the hybridization of left wing anger at the government's inability to do anything about what they think to be critical issue of our time, and right wing anger at the government's incompetence at what they take to be the critical issue of our time. One thing we can all agree on: The current administration blows.
Here is the joke:

So says the Secretary of State in "Nations must fight climate change like terrorism, Rice says," from CNN. Let's see, that will mean:

1.) Being afraid to name the activities and people who are part of the problem.

2.) Insisting that only a tiny minority of vehicles on the road are belching greenhouse gases. Make no effort to verify for fear of offending motorists and car companies.

3.) Continuing to aid parties who pay lip service to helping, but do either nothing, or as little as possible in order to keep up appearances.

End Joke.
HA HA HA HOO!

2007-09-25T22:55:00.000-05:00

1) Yom Kippur went down last weekend. I did the fast thing as usual, but this time I even made the trip out to a synagogue. I don't like the prayers but I do like to hear the shofar blow. I am not into spirituality and I certainly don't think Judaism presents an accurate portrayal of the world: I don't think there is a personal creator, a universal telos, or any judgment post death. That being said, there is often wisdom in the prescriptions of the ancients. So I like fasting. I think it is good to be uncomfortable. To exercise some will and get a little light headed and weak. To do this while focusing upon your short comings...its great. Yom Kippur is also fairly emotional for me. I think of my friend who was killed on this day and I think of how he was killed. All the Yom Kippur liturgy is about the book of life and the mercy of god...and I keep thinking "bullshit." So anyway I walked to the synagogue feeling kind of dizzy and contemplative. To get to the synagogue I had to walk through several beer pong games, barbecues, and sand volleyball parties. The city is having a party, the football team is going to win and life goes on.

2) A political rally went down. The kids are protesting the presence of Halliburton on campus. The kids are all riled up. I walk past the protest with Kylie Minogue's "Can't get you outta my head" playing on my Ipod.

Sesame Streets

2007-09-20T00:22:00.000-05:00

Martin Scorceses Sesame Streets - Watch more free videos

Get Outta My Dreams (and into my car)-an analysis in three parts (Part one)

2007-09-16T16:28:00.001-05:00

I am trying hard to make sense of the lyrical richness in Billy Ocean’s “Get Outta My Dreams (and into my car)." I lean towards the view that in this song Mr. Ocean presents a Heideggerian conception of man/artifact/world combined with a Buber-like exposition of “I and Thou.” I will present this interpretation in the upcoming weeks. For now I merely present the music video that Mr. Ocean selected to accompany his masterpiece. This video presents its own set of interpretive problems: I am not certain if the roller-skating duck is supposed to highlight the non-representational content of his music (i.e. to remind the listener not confuse his finger popping beats with the significance of his lyrics) or if the duck is indicative the mental retardation of Mr. Ocean himself:

In the video:
1) Mr. Ocean tries to pick up a prostitute
2) Mr. Ocean goes through a carwash with a car of diverse forms and colors
3) Mr. Ocean breaths and sings under water
4) Mr. Ocean has a kick ass time
5) Mr. Ocean sees a duck
6) Mr. Ocean races his car against a duck with a boom box
7) Mr. Ocean has a great time
8) Mr. Ocean watches a movie of Mr. Ocean singing to a duck with a saxophone
8) The movie version of Mr. Ocean emerges from the movie to become a real life Mr. Ocean. Mr. Ocean watches this and thinks it to be awesome.

Physical Comedy

2007-09-13T22:05:00.000-05:00

There are ten seconds in this video that justify:
There is a guy in a teddy bear outfit that gets hurt. 1:15
There is a guy in a giant inflatable T-rex outfit who falls on his ass. 1:10

I don't think I will ever tire of the T-Rex falling down.

Solidarity!

2007-09-13T20:45:00.001-05:00

Hoop Dreams.

2007-09-12T10:36:00.000-05:00

I am never going to SLAM DUNK a basketball into a regulation hoop. Its true. I have finally accepted this because I have finally turned 30. No one has increased their vertical leaping ability after thirty. Hanging on the rim is the closest I ever got. It’s the closest I ever will get. This fact hits hard. See, as a kid I was late bloomer: I was the shortest kid and the skinniest kid. I didn’t hit puberty until late in the game. I think this was a biological act of brilliance on my part: The world was totally unprepared for the intense testosterone fueled adult that was to emerge from my prepubescent form. If I would of busted full grown at 16, I think the government might of come up with some way to try to control me. As it was, I snuck up on them. They were all, “Our brain washing has worked! Everyone today is a complete and total sissy. We don’t have to worry about any badass showing up and doing his own thing. We don't have to brainwash anymore. These teens are so into their “Rico Suave” they pose no threat at all” And then I was all, “I guess I should follow authority... Wait a second, I'm getting hairy armpits! I don’t have to listen to anyone. I am going to do my own thing. Yeah!”
The thing is, I always assumed that doing my own thing would involve doing tomahawk jams from the free throw line. Never happened. I never threw down a double pumped two-handed power jam in traffic. I never even busted loose a 360 degree windmill behind the back finish to an ally-oop. I kept waiting for another growth spurt or some divine gift of increased coordination and athletic ability. It never happened. In a very significant sense, a childhood dream has died.

I can only thank god that my dream of touching a boob came true.

Mr. Fantastic!

2007-09-11T22:21:00.000-05:00

BILLY OCEAN YOUR MUTHA!

2007-09-10T21:44:00.000-05:00

This was my favorite song when I was seven. The video is beyond awesome. Bllly Ocean forced dozens of musicians to go on stage and replicate his synthesized sound. Then he forced Hollywood hooligans to dance around in white tuxedos. Amazingly these are the same hooligans who stared in the movie that Billy wanted to splice into his live show! I'm telling you, nothing could get in the way of the physical manifestation of Billy's unadulterated artistic vision. Straight from his mighty mind's eye flows awe.

GAGS 4 LIFE

2007-09-08T21:45:00.000-05:00

Hey friends!
Sorry about the trickery of promising a post and then failing to deliver. It is one of the oldest gags in the book: The old breaking one’s word gag.

Try it out next time you are with a loved one! Take them to a fancy dinner. At some point in the meal, excuse yourself to the restroom. Say something like, “Excuse me, lover. I have to take a shit. I’ll be right back.” Give your lover a sexy look as you walk towards the bathroom.

Then, never come back. Head home! Ignore the phone! Watch some cartoons! When your lover returns, the laffs will ensue.

Soon friends a real post!

2007-08-25T22:38:00.000-05:00

I am working on a real post that will probably come up in a few days. Meanwhile I came across some one describing Spinoza as Judaeo-Cartesian.

It made me laugh.
I hope this makes you laugh. It is a speech by Marc Madsen, a NBA player who at his best plays maybe 2 minutes in a game. I started researching this guy after he went into a game against Detroit for his traditional 30 seconds and got beat up by McDyess. He spent the rest of game on the bench going nuts cheering for his team. I have been a fan of him ever since.
This video is from back in 2001 when his old team won a championship (without needing his help).
Watch his face after he yells, "Who let the dogs out?"

Best Bugs Bunny Ever

2007-05-14T00:10:00.000-05:00

Click on the title to watch the best Bugs Bunny cartoon ever. I know that may not sound like much, but occasionally Chuck Jones and the gang did some brilliant things. You will have to watch a stupid ad before the cartoon gets going. Don't click on anything. The wait is worth it. The cartoon is absolutely insane. If you look past the fact that it is a Bugs Bunny cartoon, you will realize how nuts it is. How did this ever get produced?

Stinky Writing

2007-05-09T23:25:00.000-05:00

Woo yeah. I've been posting like a post it note. I can't help it. I am writing on a computer all day, and when the wisdom gets tiresome I move on to fresher pastures.
I don't know if everyone has seen this already, but it is very good:

Thats it! PUSS! BOOTS!

2007-05-08T22:27:00.000-05:00

More army nonsense!

2007-05-08T20:34:00.000-05:00

Check out this article: http://www.kawther.info/K20060907A.html

I have been inspired to look up my old unit online. A couple of nights ago I found this article and it dropped my jaw. It is full of complete bullshit: the history is wrong, her accounts of “torturing” and "suffering" are completely undocumented, and in line with her journalistic expertise she ends the article with a Paratrooper’s take on Golani. This is like asking a Nebraska driver about Iowa drivers and taking seriously their response.

I liked reading the article because I read so much Arab propaganda (and Zionist propaganda as well) that I begin to doubt the validity of any historical narrative. I start thinking, "Maybe there is just a series of viewpoints and maybe I believe the crazy one. I know many intelligent people who believe in the Palestinian cause. Maybe I'm wrong."

So I read this, and it is a big smear piece about the unit I served in. The pictures (the later pictures) feature guys that I know. The picture of the two “Golani Sweethearts?” The guy on the right was wounded by the first female suicide bomber in Jerusalem. He had a hard time walking and standing for awhile. He came back to Golani in a non-combat role. He is a great guy, and straight as an arrow.

I know the checkpoint she talks about. Yeah, some of the settlers in Hebron suck. So do some of the soldiers. But her description of Hebron's population?

In a propaganda piece she lets slip the existence of "tunnels" in Hebron. Tunnels? A defenseless unarmed population has tunnels? She also failed to mentioned how many time the IDF has left Hebron only to return after the Arabs shoot at the settlers. Oh yeah. They are now called settlers because in 1929 the Arabs killed the original Jewish population who had a continuous community there for a couple thousand years.

I don't want to argue about history or who is the bad guy. What was significant for me was that the article confirmed (for me) the veracity of my experience over the bullshit written accounts that I read.
The woman writes:
"I know much about Golani soldiers. They are all psychopaths, criminals, drug dealers who hide themselves behind a military uniform and derive their power from the weapons which they carry. Still then, armed to the teeth and before a defenseless civilian population, they are full of fear, cowards second to none."

She writes this as a fact. I know she is wrong. She writes about genocide like it is a fact. She writes about the Jenin massacre like it is a fact. She writes about the slaughter of captured Egyptian soldiers like it is a fact.
I have read many academic accounts that indicate that all these claims are false. What is significant for me (and probably not for any one reading this blog) is that her article restores my confidence that her viewpoint and her interpretation of the Israelis is wrong. I think it as false and contrived as her article.

More YouTube Fun (Free Willy Update!)

2007-05-06T02:01:00.000-05:00

I was recently informed of this film. For anyone wondering what my military training looked like, here you go.

For anyone wondering what was going through my head during this time:

3 Rock videos Blog

2007-05-05T12:59:00.000-05:00

Woo!
Sometimes even Professor Passion likes to rock and roll. Hence this post. Click on the title to see a video (Video 1) with cowboys, robots, unicorns and eagles.

Video 2:

I really like this band. Most of their baselines are lifted straight from DEVO (see Idiot Walk) and I for one dig it. I first saw this video in a bunker facing Lebanon. I thought to myself, "Wow! Maybe rock isn't dead?" All the fat guys and jump kicks got me pumped up. Its a good thing when rock bands believe in their rocking and its a good thing when the professor can like something written in the past 15 years.

Video 3:

Not a great song, or a great video, but seeing an old Mick Jones looking awkward in a punk bar has a great sadness to it.

This Young Buck is good V-Jay no?

BasketBall Bullshit!

2007-04-27T12:59:00.000-05:00

Yeah! The playoffs are back and I could not be more delighted. While my New Orleans Hornets did not make the playoffs, the Pistons continue to dominate. Hooray!

Here is a video of the Honeybees (professional strippers who entertain Hornets fans) dunking some balls. In the video there is a dude in a teal suit called "Super Hugo- the man of teal." I hate this guy. My loyalty goes out to regular Hugo, a dude who dresses like a blue bumble bee:
I will try to find a video of him chasing the Honeybees with his stinger. Oy it makes me laff!

Anyway here is the video of the Honeybees, with all its philosophical implications:

Dog with Horse

2007-04-21T11:10:00.000-05:00

Friends! Last night I attended this seminar about social justice. It was a serious talk about inheritance tax, wealth tax, and egalitarian concerns. There were some neat ideas thrown around, but I was pretty bored. My confusions about the nature of man, the social unit, and the "oughts” and “ought nots” derivable from these natures lie at the metaphysical level. These dudes don’t share my confusion, and abide by principles I am none to sure about. But again there were some neat ideas thrown around.

The most remarkable part of the seminar however was not about an idea. It was the repeated use of an expression: “Value for Money.”

People kept saying this and I kept giggling. These were some old school gags.

A New Leaf?

2007-04-18T22:29:00.000-05:00

I have been in contact with a few of my friends/readers recently and your calls and emails could not have come at a better time: The master of wolves (both air and lone) has been doing some thinking. The tough kind of thinking. (A New Kind of Thinking?)

A number of recent events have necessitated my engagement in this unpleasant thinking. What events?
Missing a war
The loss of an old friend (Not a loss to due to death)
An inability to write well
An inability to connect with people
Getting my ass kicked in a grappling match.
Receiving negative comments from Professors with no background in passion.
Rejections from programs
Getting sick
A general dislike of my situation

Water off a beautiful swan’s back?
Yeah, sure. I got no problems with the rolling. When sober I’ve always had a knack for shutting down my emotional responses and taking a detached rational stance towards life. Add a few years of fairly intensive study of Spinoza, Stoicism, Nietzsche, plus 1000’s of superhero comics, a brief military stint and… yes, you could say I am a waterproof bird.

My worry though is that the Stoic move (a.k.a. not giving a shit about events in the world) has lead me to simply repeat failures—instead of learning from them.

I have a sense of myself as a badass superhero warrior/genius. The facts of the world contradict this: I am no great shakes as a warrior or athlete. And I have done nothing noteworthy academically. But being stoic about these hard facts has encouraged me to persist in a false self-estimation.

I can’t lay the blame the Stoics or Spinoza for this jackshittery. He warned me.

“The greatest pride, or the greatest despondency, is the greatest ignorance of one’s self.”—The S-dog

I have mistakenly used Stoicism to ignore the world and cling to a prideful myth, rather than use Stoicism to confront my weaknesses and understand what I really am: A thirty year old guy who still doesn’t know what the hell he is doing in life. One part me (the part that ain’t nothing but a monster) insists upon doing something worthy of my “greatness.” This part (Captain Arrogance) wants to be Batman, a founder of a movement, a Professor of Passion, a defender of Truth, Jews, and the American Gentile. Anything else is failure. The other part (the part that is myself) wants to figure out an enjoyable way to earn enough money to live with my babe and raise some kids. This part of myself is painfully aware that he has no idea how to pull this “limited” goal off. I don’t have a skill set. I have done nothing in my thirty years that translates into economic viability. I want to be Batman and I don’t even know how to have a career.

There has been a deep inconsistency in my thinking. My recognition of this is not despondency. I certainly don’t feel sad to come face to face with this fact. I still got my telos: I want to improve myself. I want to understand the world. I want the greatest pleasure. And I remain confident that these ends are equivalent. I just need to stop fucking around.

Buying Buckets

2007-03-27T14:05:00.000-05:00

Here is Sheed explaining science to a ref:

Here is Sheed last night:

Detroit down by three with 1.4 seconds on the clock, and the opposing team has the ball. This is how you buy a bucket. Think it is luck?

Here is Sheed practicing before a game. His coach used to complain about him wasting practice time with these shots. He shoots these before every game.

I can't buy a bucket

2007-03-11T08:53:00.000-05:00

Hey team! I am continuing my run as New Orleans greatest Spinoza scholar. I don't understand the decisions that have been made. Correct that: I understand the decisions ("no" is rather simple) but not the logic behind them. In the end my brothers and sisters, I may just have too much funk and flavor for any institution. God bless us all, but I am not a desirable student.

I need something to happen

2007-03-06T15:01:00.000-06:00

Professor Romance needs some adventure. Not social adventure. Not friendship adventure. Not basketball.
A straight up adventure. Something to get my swerve on.

N.C Storm Kills Two Baby Bald Eagles

2007-03-04T07:53:00.000-06:00

CHARLOTTE, N.C., March 3 (UPI) -- A rainstorm that swept through North Carolina this week claimed the lives of two baby bald eagles recently born at the Carolina Raptor Center.
The center's executive director told the Charlotte (N.C.) Observer that the two infant birds likely drowned or succumbed to hypothermia during Thursday's storm even as their mother attempted to save them.
"Unfortunately, we had a huge rainstorm, and nature took them back," Alan Barnhardt said.
The pair of baby bald eagles had represented only the third and fourth of their species born in North Carolina, following a pair of eagles born last year to the same parents.
The baby eagles, who were born just last week, were especially susceptible to the storm as their parents' nest had been built on the ground.
The unusual location for the nest was due both to injuries to the parents and a lack of predators at the manmade location.
The paper said that while center officials did witness the unfortunate incident occur, the locale's policy is not to interfere with the eagles' natural parental process.
Copyright 2007 by United Press International. All Rights Reserved.

The Passion can bring forth tears

2007-03-03T16:55:00.000-06:00

Making a woman cry is like trying to pee. It is just going to happen.

Poets don't know jack

2007-03-01T12:18:00.000-06:00

I was so excited to find another poem dedicated to the S-dog I overlooked a pretty big oversight on Jorge Borges part.
Jorge writes:
"Time carries him as the river carries
A leaf in the downstream water.
No matter. The enchanted one insists
And shapes God with delicate geometry"

This is how people who don't really grasp determinism understand it. They think if universal causation is true, then they are like a leaf, carried by forces beyond their control. The image suggest a separation between the self, and causal necessity. A better metaphor would be an eddy in the river and the river. There is no eddy independent of the river. It is a mistake to even think about an eddy subject to the forces of a river--the eddy itself is a result of the river. It is not the self versus nature--there is only nature doing its thing.

Another Spinoza poem found!

2007-02-28T20:45:00.000-06:00

Baruch Spinoza

Like golden mist, the west lights up
The window. The diligent manuscript
Awaits, already laden with infinity.
Someone is building God in the twilight.
A man engenders God. He is a Jew
Of sad eyes and citrine skin.
Time carries him as the river carries
A leaf in the downstream water.
No matter. The enchanted one insists
And shapes God with delicate geometry.
Since his illness, since his birth,
He goes on constructing God with the word.
The mightiest love was granted him
Love that does not expect to be loved.

— Jorge Luis Borges,
translated by Yirmiyahu Yovel

Some more manly quotes:
Proust’s favorite metaphysician Henri Bergson (1859 - 1941) thought “every philosopher has two philosophies, his own and Spinoza’s.”

Bertrand Russell called Spinoza “the noblest and most lovable of the great philosophers.” Bloom concurs to the extent that Spinoza “was surely one of the most exemplary human beings ever to have lived,” though Bloom also finds “an icy sublimity” in Spinoza. “He was greatly cold and coldly great.”

Will somebody tend mind to the children?

2007-02-28T18:55:00.000-06:00

I spend my days teaching the children. Today my cover was blown. An old student of mine asked me why I chose to teach ethics. I told him I didn't choose nothing of the kind. My passion is clear and distinct ideas mother-fucker. My passion is the radical enlightenment. My passion is strong.

A student told me he liked my class but that he could tell I hated teaching it. He figured that from when I said, "God damn, I hate teaching this shit."

I forgot I said that. I mutter a lot of things to the chalkboard that the kids can hear.

Today I also spoke to a kid who is failing all of his classes. I gave him a terrible pep-talk. I was like, "Kid, I failed the shit out of a lot of school. I know you aren't dumb. You just ain't feelin' it. You got to find what you are feeling and then feel the shit out of it. Lion eats the deer, but in a way deer eats the lion."

Another kid (the kids were all up in my junk today...I got caught in the hall) asked me if we were going to read anything from Timbuktu. I said, "What?"
He said, "Timbuktu"
I said, "What?"
He said, "The malian city."
I said, "No, we read stuff written by authors, not cities."

This was the best response I could come up with. I have heard the word, "Timbuktu." I even read the phrase on my Civ4 video game. I know from this video game that it was an awesome city with a kick ass Berber culture. But that is all I know. I often think "Timbuktu and Tyler too" but I know that is a bunch of bullshit. Today I failed a student.

Octopus is twelth level Samurai

2007-02-27T19:33:00.000-06:00

Stoics and Sacks

2007-02-20T21:48:00.000-06:00

I don’t normally get to dick around with ancient wisdom texts much—I’ve studied the Jewish stuff a bit and what not, but normally I am all about the analytic philosophy. I teach a bunch of horrible crap though so with the hope that I could find some ethical works that didn’t make me sick I started reading some Stoics. Here are some gems that will grow chest hair on your balls or vagina.

Enjoy the wisdom of Epictetus
(From Encheiridion)

Let death and exile and everything that is terrible appear before your eyes every day, especially death; and you will never have anything contemptible in your thoughts or crave anything excessively.
[Professor Passion breaks it down for his students: Imagine you have received a rectal punch. Not such a big man anymore are you?]

How long do you put off thinking yourself worthy of the best things, and never going against the definitive capacity of reason? You have received the philosophical propositions that you ought to agree to and you have agreed to them. Then what sort of teacher are you waiting for, that you put off improving yourself until he comes? You are not a boy anymore, but already a full-grown man. If you now neglect things and are lazy and are always making delay after delay and set one day after another as the day for paying attention to yourself; then without realizing it you will make no progress but will end up a non-philosopher all through life and death. So decide now that you are worthy of living as a full-grown man who is making progress, and make everything that seems best be a law that you cannot go against. And if you meet with any hardship or anything pleasant or reputable or disreputable, then remember that the contest is now and the Olympic games are now and you cannot put things off any more and that your progress is made or destroyed by a single day and a single action. Socrates became fully perfect in this way, not by paying attention to anything but his reason in everything that he met. You, even if you are not Socrates, ought to live as someone wanting to be Socrates.

[Prof. Passion break down: Stop being a Nancy boy. As kids we got better just by getting older. Those days are gone. There is nothing else worth doing but working at being better.]

For each action, consider what leads up to it and what follows it, and approach it in the light of that. Otherwise you will come to it enthusiastically at first, since you have not borne in mind any of what will happen next, but later when difficulties turn up you will give up disgracefully. You want to win an Olympic victory? I do too, by the gods, since that is a fine thing. But consider what leads up to it and what follows it, and undertake the action in the light of that. You must be disciplined, keep a strict diet, stay away from cakes, train according to strict routine at a fixed time in heat and in cold, not drink cold water, not drink wine when you feel like it, and in general you must have turned yourself over to your trainer as to a doctor, and then in the contest “dig in,” sometimes dislocate your hand, twist your ankle, swallow a lot of sand, sometimes be whipped, and, after all that, lose. Think about that and then undertake training, if you want to. Otherwise you will be behaving the way children do, who play wrestlers one time, gladiators another time, blow trumpets another time, then act a play. In this way you too are now an athlete, now a gladiator, then an orator, then a philosopher, yet you are nothing wholeheartedly, but like a monkey you mimic each sight that you see, and one thing after another is to your taste, since you do not undertake a thing after considering it from every side, but only randomly and half-heartedly.

In the same way when some people watch a philosopher and hear one speaking like Euphrates (though after all who can speak like him), they want to be philosophers themselves. Just you consider, as a human being, what sort of thing it is; then inspect your own nature and whether you can bear it. You want to do the pentathlon, or to wrestle? Look at your arms, your thighs, inspect your loins. Different people are naturally suited for different things. Do you think that if you do those things you can eat as you now do, drink as you now do, have the same likes and dislikes? You must go without sleep, put up with hardships, be away from your own people, be looked down on by a little slave boy, be laughed at by people who meet you, get the worse of it in everything, honor, public office, law course, every little thing. Think about whether you want to exchange these things for tranquility, freedom, calm. If not, do not embrace philosophy, and do not like children be a philosopher at one time, later a tax-collector, than an orator, then a procurator of the emperor. These things do not go together. You must be one person, either good or bad. You must either work on your ruling principle, or work on externals, practice the art either of what is inside or what is outside, that is, play the role either of a philosopher or of a non-philosopher.

[Prof. Passion break down: Do you want to be a scholar or an activist? Are you all about inquiry and discovery or are you about imposing your preferences. Don’t confuse the two. Check your ball sack/vagina. Is it full of steel? Mine is.

I am still in Kansas anymore.

2007-02-15T15:59:00.000-06:00

I heard a train whistle a few nights ago, but it wasn’t a whistle. It was a tornado. It left a lot of my neighborhood jacked. It did nothing to me. I got up early in the morning and rode my bike to the gym. A lot of houses, cars, and electric wires were jacked all over the place. I didn’t think much of it. New Orleans baby. On my way back from the gym I saw all the repair crews, police, soldiers, and what not. “Holy shit” I thought.

I got home and realized we had no electricity. I went back to campus and found that they had no electricity. With all the wires out all over the place, they shut down part of the city grid. About six hours later the power came back on. For those of us whose houses weren’t jacked, life goes on without alteration. For those who lost their homes…well, they are good and fucked. At this point, to lose everything after going through the hurricane, it has got to hurt.

Anyway I went riding around that night in the darkness. I visited Duck Island: After Hours. It is not as erotic as you may think. The birds are all there, snuggled in together near the bike path, but the park is rather creepy. Without any overhead lights (some of the area was still without power) the shadows played tricks on me and I avoided potholes and declines that didn’t exist, and rode through potholes and declines that did. It reminded me of the long night marches I did back in the army: a constant hallucination of falling.

Eagles of Freedom 2007 MegaMIx

2007-02-12T09:23:00.000-06:00

Thanks Seabass

I did not come to fuck around

2007-02-11T15:03:00.000-06:00

Howdy friends. I came across as a real jerk in my last post. A big jerky jerk.
I apologize. Not everybody in this world is an assless buttdrip. I have met some good people down here, and I understand the joys of fraternizing. To Camaraderie: Salud!

I must say though, I have also been very happy working on my own nonsense. I pace around drawing shit on a board, wiping it off, grabbing books, skimming through them, writing and deleting some thoughts on non-conceptual content, extension, and Sellars dilemma. I often listen to kick ass Rock and Roll while I do this. My masterpiece is still far from complete, but at this point in the game, I don’t care. It’s the first time I have enjoyed writing a paper. I don’t really even want to complete this paper until I figure out a non-stupid way to express what I think to be an important insight.

My point: My work is my passion and passion is good. I am a cheerful swan!

NewOrleans Fun Quest

2007-02-05T09:34:00.000-06:00

Last night I did some empirical science. Traditionally I rely on deduction from indubitable presmises to deny the worth of social entertainment. I figure:
a) Most conversations irritate me
b) People; when out drinking and looking for booty, have conversations
c) NBA basketball is FANtastic.
d) I should avoid going out unless it is to witness a NBA game

I take this argument to be true in this world. I am a happy camper attending Hornets games. In fact, next month I will watch Kobe rape the Hornets. Basketball rape, like sex rape, is not an act of sex but an act of power.

But I digress. I rarely go “out” and instead stay “in”. Last night I went “out”. I empirically tested my most cherished beliefs.

Mission Equipment:

Hat.
Gloves.
Super Shirt
Wool Sweater
Thermos full of “Sweet Whiskey” (aka (Whiskey and Simple Syrup)
Backpack
Two Beers
Knife
13 dollars

I traveled deep into the French quarter to watch the first parade of Mardi Gras season.
I drank all of my whiskey, my beers, and a bullshit mini-pint of Guinness. I stood in the cold with a group of grad students and their friends. I also ate tator-tots. The gang I was with had many conversations. These conversations irritated me. Overheard conversations:

1) An exposition on the movie “this movie is not yet rated”. Did you know that movie ratings are often based on bad reasons? Did you know that filmed boobies are more restricted than filmed violence? Guess what? The people who rate movies are a bunch of inconsistent prudes! No really! Some of them may have a conservative pro-family, pro-country, anti-gay, bias. [I believe when several people in unanimous agreement continue to state the obvious to each other, the discussion is not a discussion about a topic but an attempt by the speakers to affirm the significance and reality of their ability to exercise judgment. Seriously. Why are they talking?]

2) A discussion of left libertarianism/ Rawlesian redistribution. People began to disagree as to which of these theories gave the correct account of economic justice. The saying, “It depends on how you define the terms”, resolved these disagreements. Everyone agreed that, yes, this ambiguity of definition, and not an error on anyone’s part, was the explanation as to why it appeared that some of them did not know what they were talking about. Of course, after this breakthrough in insight, no one bothered to define “the terms”. The new found agreement amongst the disputants must not have been as superficial as it appeared because all parties of this dispute reacted to a hobo’s request for money in the same way: They ignored him.

3) The parade was pretty neat. The marching drums and horns (along with my sweet whiskey) made me want to dance; the costumes were fun and the floats risqué. Phalluses and fake nut sacks adorned many of the parade people, and some guy threw peanuts while shouting “I’m tossing my nuts around”. [This was the best overheard conversation]

I made it home by 10:30 pm. I had left my house at 4:30pm. Two hours were spent on the bus. It wasn’t a bad use of my time. I took the bus home with a logician in my department (the rest of the gang were going to share a taxi home at 3:00 am. Fuck that noise) and the logician and I had a good conversation. He pointed out an inconsistency in my preferred account for causation. This was very helpful for me. I like to think I showed him some problems with his atomism. We both walked away thinking about how much more work we have to do.

Howdy Gang!

2007-02-02T21:59:00.000-06:00

I'm typing away like a little ferret. I am writing great things. While I write the Detroit Pistons play a basketball game. I like to look online to see how the Detroit Pistons are doing. I discover this gem:

"Wallace picked up his 14th technical foul in the third quarter, and will get an automatic one-game suspension after two more. Wallace asked Pistons coach Flip Saunders to take him out later in the period because of his anger with the officials. He was replaced by Antonio McDyess, who was quickly ejected after arguing a call."

This is delightful. Detroit has more technical fouls than any other team this year. Sheed, and Rip Hamilton lead the league respectively in getting called for technicals. Mcdyess, who got kicked out of tonight's game, was kicked out of a game a couple weeks ago for shoving down a fat white guy and talking shit to Keven Garnett. He is the calm and collect guy on the team.
Rip still wears a face mask.

Detroit isn't as good as they were a few years ago, but they make up for their decline in talent by increasing their jack-assery.
Let that be a lesson for us all.

The only place for your passion fix!

2007-02-01T10:16:00.000-06:00

Friends! Warriors! Ladies. mmm hmm. The Ladies.
I have been receiving requests for internet friendship.
"My Space" friendship. "Facebook" friendship.

It ain't happening suckers. No disrespect. Those accounts are just decoys. They are metaphorical "feints" in my very real boxing match with the internet reality. Don't be fooled by the sham profiles. This is where you can find the heart rending emotion, the inadequate conceptions of particulars, and weekly updates about the on-goings of Duck Island that you crave.
Look no further.

Here is morsel of passionate goodness:

Yesterday, as I rode to the Wholefoods, I inadvertently became a participant in operation "Escape from Duck Island". Normally the duck/swan/goose/turtle population stays within the confines of Duck Island. There, they look peaceful and majestic. There, they bring peace to the raging inferno burning within this young buck invincible. But, yesterday, Duck Island couldn't hold them. Ducks, Geese, and Swans stormed the bike path and the picnic grounds. Grass was pecked at. Trees were squawked at. Shit went down.
The park of tranquility became an orgy of avian dominance. No bagpipes on this fine day. Just the terrifying honking of a birddom yearning to be free.

September 1, 1939- W.H Auden

2007-01-27T11:49:00.000-06:00

I sit in one of the dives
On Fifty-second Street
Uncertain and afraid
As the clever hopes expire
Of a low dishonest decade:
Waves of anger and fear
Circulate over the bright
And darkened lands of the earth,
Obsessing our private lives;
The unmentionable odour of death
Offends the September night.
Accurate scholarship can
Unearth the whole offence
From Luther until now
That has driven a culture mad,
Find what occurred at Linz,
What huge imago made
A psychopathic god:
I and the public know
What all schoolchildren learn,
Those to whom evil is done
Do evil in return.

Exiled Thucydides knew
All that a speech can say
About Democracy,
And what dictators do,
The elderly rubbish they talk
To an apathetic grave;
Analysed all in his book,
The enlightenment driven away,
The habit-forming pain,
Mismanagement and grief:
We must suffer them all again.

Into this neutral air
Where blind skyscrapers use
Their full height to proclaim
The strength of Collective Man,
Each language pours its vain
Competitive excuse:
But who can live for long
In an euphoric dream;
Out of the mirror they stare,
Imperialism's face
And the international wrong.

Faces along the bar
Cling to their average day:
The lights must never go out,
The music must always play,
All the conventions conspire
To make this fort assume
The furniture of home;
Lest we should see where we are,
Lost in a haunted wood,
Children afraid of the night
Who have never been happy or good.

The windiest militant trash
Important Persons shout
Is not so crude as our wish:
What mad Nijinsky wrote
About Diaghilev
Is true of the normal heart;
For the error bred in the bone
Of each woman and each man
Craves what it cannot have,
Not universal love
But to be loved alone.

From the conservative dark
Into the ethical life
The dense commuters come,
Repeating their morning vow;
"I will be true to the wife,
I'll concentrate more on my work,"
And helpless governors wake
To resume their compulsory game:
Who can release them now,
Who can reach the deaf,
Who can speak for the dumb?

All I have is a voice
To undo the folded lie,
The romantic lie in the brain
Of the sensual man-in-the-street
And the lie of Authority
Whose buildings grope the sky:
There is no such thing as the State
And no one exists alone;
Hunger allows no choice
To the citizen or the police;
We must love one another or die.

Defenceless under the night
Our world in stupor lies;
Yet, dotted everywhere,
Ironic points of light
Flash out wherever the Just
Exchange their messages:
May I, composed like them
Of Eros and of dust,
Beleaguered by the same
Negation and despair,
Show an affirming flame.

A young buck invincible

2007-01-26T10:21:00.000-06:00

I have been using the above title to describe myself for some time now. As in, "I'm a young buck invincible"
Where is this phrase from?
Whose thunder have I ganked this time?

Also ladies, I have an anecdote.

There I was, your average young buck invincible, when I saw some guy in park (aka Duck Island) playing a bagpipe! It was loud and beautiful. I know a lot a gags rest upon the premise that bagpipes are horrible to listen to. But gags be damned! Bagpipes are glorious. I stopped my mission of groceries and sat and listened. Bagpipes are emotional butter. They start all soft and creamy, but watch out, because next comes the sizzle! Death as a war cry! Disfigurement as art! Godspeed us to our damnation!
I love bagpipes.

Hello Team Friendship!

2007-01-24T19:40:00.000-06:00

Hi everyone.
I am doing great. My scent is pungent and my air sack swells.

Many good things:
A Golan-chik is now head of the IDF!
I have made peace with this cruel earth!
The coffee shop gave me half off on a screwed up chai.
I am only taking one formal class.
This constitutes a 50% reduction in facebuggery.

I intimidate the hell out of my students.
I had a logic prof who started class by glaring at everyone as he walked in. Then he paced for awhile before speaking.
Between the pauses in his speech he again glared.
I have embraced his method.

I was invited to a rap concert!

Chris Webber joined the Pistons!

I am sensitive.

2006-12-06T14:27:00.000-06:00

I feel deeply.
When ever an ember goes cold, my heart breaks.

Waaah.

I feel deeply.

Classic Passion

2006-11-26T19:42:00.000-06:00

This is the best news story ever.

2006-11-22T10:31:00.000-06:00

Click on the title to read about an absolutely news worthy non-occurance.

2006-11-22T10:05:00.000-06:00

A poem I like:
One man’s parents gave him an old fashioned name from the Diaspora.
These days only very old, very praying Jews still go by such a name.
His friends gave him a wild name, because he grew up
To be a big brave paratrooper, raised horses
out in the world and came back to raise them in the hills of Galilee.
His parents own a shop of women’s undergarments, corsets for the stout ones,
lightweight bras and little silk panties for the lean ones.
and whoever laughs at the story of a generation gap like that,
whoever even cracks a smile, doesn’t know a thing about
wild horses or the names of the land Canaan or Diaspora names
or the hills of Galilee or women
or women’s garments, either under or over,
or the land of Israel, or the history of the people of Israel.

-Yehuda Amichia

A food I like:

Latvian Sprats

Phasers are set to kill. Twice

2006-11-19T18:31:00.000-06:00

I got my swerve on.

Show Stoppin! Show Show Stoppin

2006-11-18T10:46:00.000-06:00

Howdy friends and revelers. Is it all good?

Anyway I thought I would talk to you all about my hairstyle. Some of my hairs are failing to grow. My widow’s peak is peaking.
Do I feel old or stylistically impaired?
Hell motherfucking no!

I wear the “Su Su Sudio”

Fohawks are for Foggots. Messy hair spikes are for jerks and Bartleby’s master.
I follow the fashion direction of Phil Collins.

Word on the Street.

2006-11-06T20:12:00.000-06:00

The flagship sank. A boat cannot float forever. A boat needs its identity. A boat cannot be dismantled at once.

“Floaters” are poops that don’t sink.
“Floaters” are basketball shots that sort of hang in the air.
“Floaters”

In other news perestroika is all the rage.
Along with another kind of ice cream.
The food of the Chinese is fried and sticky
The Chinese have terrible teeth.
Peanuts make satisfying snacks, but no one is satisfied working for peanuts.

It is a golden shower age.
Keep looking for value
“Value for Money”
when you are right, you are right.

The eagle never lost so much time as when he submitted to learn of the crow.

2006-11-04T20:16:00.000-06:00

-Blake

My dreams have involved dead soldiers, the Detroit Pistons basketball team, and a well polished museum of modern art.

A little poem about Spinoza

2006-10-31T17:37:00.000-06:00

How much do I love that noble man
More than I could tell with words
I fear though he’ll remain alone
With a holy halo of his own.

-Albert Einstein

I AM MAD AND DISGUSTED

2006-10-31T09:47:00.000-06:00

I have been watching all of these old NBA games on youtube. You can see pretty much every great performance that some famous player ever did. One the best things I watched was Jordan's fourth game in the NBA. He busted out 45 points and everybody [even his teammates] were walking around with a "what the fuck is going on?" look on their faces. The T.V. announcers took to calling him "Captain Marvel".

Aside from that, there is very little in the cultural soup today that gives me pleasure. I am furious at everything. The coffee girl today mentioned David Lynch doing Shakespeare's "Taming of the Shrew". She mentioned that this would be an instant classic.I wanted to jump over the counter and beat her counter-culture face in. I want to beat the shit out of the pre-law kids in my class. And I want to tell every asshole taking part in the same conversation that every other asshole is having to shut the fuck up.

I like looking at the ducks and turtles at the city park.

Another False Start?

2006-10-29T10:25:00.000-06:00

Hey everyone.
I’ve been thinking about getting this blog back up to its former glory: A haven for correspondence, a net of coherence. It has been too long since I revealed some of my passion.

Why you ask? Why would Professor Passion clothe his raw emotional butter and hide from the electro-world? Here is why:

1) I play the role of professor in real life now. This is very time consuming and leaves me drained of words.
2) I am involved in philosophy discussions. Some of these are quite enjoyable. Some of these are not. Both leave me tired of wordplay.

Oh but what about all the gags? The WholeFoods? The Fried Chicken? Well, most of my gags now involve petty disagreements between dillweeds, and these gags are as boring as they sound. [At WholeFoods, I did accidentally say, “Get the fuck out of my face” to an eleven year old girl who bumped into me. That had me laughing all day.]

So I have been like a laser. Focused. Burning. Illuminated. All of it. Whenever I have downtime however I get depressed. I get tired of working. I don’t like hanging out with people. I don’t know what to do with myself.

Tonight was like that: I’m all sick of working and I cant think of anything to do. I am hungry. Bored. Lonely.

And then I realized: Warriors don’t get bored or let themselves get pissy. I opened a can a sardines. I ate them. I brewed a cup of coffee. I drank it. I played “Give em Enough Rope” real loud. I read some comic books.

All is good. All is good.

The Professor Busts a Nut of Rage

2006-10-08T12:22:00.001-05:00

Howdy readers,
My lack of posting is due to my lack of internet: I like to write when I am at home not when I am in the office. Today I write from the coffee house of dudes. Every time I am here some jerk ass coffee rock star pisses me off. Either it is something I over hear (for example one dude made me wait at the counter for 5 minutes so he tell another dude about the badass guitar he is going to buy) or it the pissy attitude these coffee dealers give me. I cannot handle having some hippy dude treat me like his bitch because he wears saggy pants and read or heard of Howard Zinn once. My god, it burns me up!

Today I solved this problem. Instead of being polite and getting mocked, I begin my order with a call out to the "Coffee Boy"

"Hey Coffee Boy? I want a double expresso"

I said it nice and friendly, and the guy didn't get upset. He also didn't get uppity.

Sweet Victory and he cant spit in my drink because I watch him prepare it!

The Professor Busts a Nut of Rage

2006-10-08T12:22:00.000-05:00

Howdy readers,
My lack of posting is due to my lack of internet: I like to write when I am at home not when I am in the office. Today I write from the coffee house of dudes. Every time I am here some jerk ass coffee rock star pisses me off. Either it is something I over hear (for example one dude made me wait at the counter for 5 minutes so he tell another dude about the badass guitar he is going to buy) or it is straight up the result of the pissy attitude these coffee dealers give me. I cannot handle having some hippy dude treat me like his bitch because he wears saggy pants and read or heard of Howard Zinn once. My god, it burns me up!

Today I solved this problem. Instead of being polite and getting mocked, I begin my order with a call out to the "Coffee Boy"

"Hey Coffee Boy? I want a double expresso"

I said it nice and friendly, and the guy didn't get upset. He also didn't get uppity.

Sweet Victory. and he cant spit in my drink because I watch him prepare it.

Ripping the loons off of pants

2006-09-11T17:59:00.000-05:00

Man.
I have things going my way. Big paper is now due at a later date. One of the new grad students is into philosophy of math. Teaching is getting easier. My stipend check is being directly deposited into my account. I have insurance.

I am full of unease though. I think the vast majority of grad students are ass donkeys. They are absolutely worthless beings.
Straight up.
No caveats.

Ass Donkeys.

I do not want to be an Ass Donkey.

The world of butt nuts

2006-09-03T11:10:00.000-05:00

I do my blogging out of a coffee house now that I moved away from available wireless. I hate the coffee shop. The cafe with donuts is a great place to work: donuts, sun light, and a working man's clientele. This coffee shop is filled with dudes. They even exclaim, "Dude!" when they see a fellow dude.

This reminds me of a conversation I had with a friend of mine. He pointed out the realization one gets, that adults are not a separate species. That parents, politicians, educators, workers, and so on--all have the same level of sentience as one's self, and they possess no unique wisdom or world view beyond your grasp. This observation of his struck me as very true. Today I realize that it is now the kids that I cannot relate to. When I see some dude skating around I immediately think, "Dumbass". When I see youthful haircuts "fo-hawks", dreads, long hair, etc. I again think "Dumbass". I just feel awkward for them and for me. It is kinda like when I look at photos of Teen-Professor and I cringe.

Also what is with these "fake dog tags" I'm seeing among the hip hop crowds?

Many Expressions of Warmth unto you!

2006-08-31T20:31:00.000-05:00

Howdy. Things are moving in the right direction for the suffering otter. I have returned to the gym after a summer of wasting away. I am trying a new order of operations in my repositioning of heavy objects. It feels really good to bust a beef again in the gym. The exercise really cheers me up.

I am also now in a new apartment. I must ride even further to get groceries, but here again the exercise cheers me up: Today when some hoochie almost hit me with her car I gestured violently towards her and her boyfriend and yelled, “What the fuck you Nimrods!”
The hoochie yelled something unintelligible back in my direction.

I don’t know why I said “Nimrods”. Nimrod is a sort of common name in Israel. The name is used in the bible to refer to a guy who is only described as a great hunter before the lord. Somehow the name is associated in English with an idiot. A nincompoop.

Calling those people Nimrods was surely the highlight of my day.

2006-08-25T19:32:00.000-05:00

Good News Spendecrats

2006-08-25T12:21:00.000-05:00

All these good things have arrived in a giant bunch of collected joys.
Things weren't always so good. For awhile now I couldn't find a home. Today I am signing a lease on a new home! Hurrah!
I will name this new place: The Doctor's Office.
The name evokes knowledge, expertise, healing, and hints of erotic shenanigans. If that doesn't capture the essence of Professor Romance (aka Doc Passion) I don't know what would.

Also I had my bike fixed. For a week I was walking around sweating like a pig, and moving slowly. Today I got my bike back! I can zip around town again. WIth my newfound freedom I went to wholefoods and bought some 8 grain bread nonsense.
THE BREAD TASTES LIKE KOSHER HOT DOGS!
How great is that. I am just eating bread but my mouth thinks its eating hot dogs.

Tomorrow I move. My stagnant life is over. Thus begins a new era.

Step Back: Professor Passion Attack

2006-08-22T13:43:00.000-05:00

Sorry for all the delays in posting. I have been busy, or lazy and when mounting the muse I produced things too private or stupid. I have spent far too much time reading about Israel’s war and I can’t write anything lovely about it.
So I thought I would start the blog back up with some great quotes that make war/political analysis easier to swallow.

"These disorders… do not move me to laughter nor even to tears, but rather to philosophizing, and to the better observation of human nature. I do not think it right for me to laugh at nature, much less to weep over it, when I consider that men, like the rest, are only a part of nature, and that I do not know how each part of nature is connected with the whole of it, and how with the other parts." [Spinoza—reflecting on the Second Anglo-Dutch War]

From Yehuda Amichai:

When I Was Young, The Whole Country Was Young

When I was young, the whole country was young. And my father
was everyone’s father. When I was happy, the country
was happy too, and when I jumped on her, she jumped
under me. The grass that covered her in spring
softened me too, and the dry earth of summer hurt me
like my own cracked footsoles.
When I first fell in love, they proclaimed
her independence, and when my hair
fluttered in the breeze, so did her flags.
When I fought in the war, she fought, when I got up
she got up too, and when I sank
she began to sink with me.

Now I’m beginning to come apart from all that:
like something that’s glued, after the glue dries out,
I’m getting detached and curling into myself.

The other day I saw a clarinet player in the Police Band
that was playing at David’s Citadel.
His hair was white and his face calm: a face
of 1946, the one and only year
between famous and terrible years
when nothing happened except for a great hope and his music
and my loving a girl in a quiet room in Jerusalem.
I hadn’t seen him since then, but the hope for a better world
never left his face.

Afterward I bought myself some non-kosher salami
and two bagels, and I walked home.
I managed to hear the evening news.
and ate and lay down on the bed and the memory of my first love came back to me
like the sensation of falling
just before sleep
--Yehuda Amichia

Hell yeah. Also I should tell everyone that YouTube has become the greatest resource for video clips of The Clash. This is how Sandinista is supposed to sound.

Other people think Thomas Friedman is a jerk.

2006-06-15T14:38:00.000-05:00

I got this from JihadWatch:

The next six months will be decisive for Tom Friedman's credibility
Via Daniel Pipes comes this collection from FAIR of Media Pundit Thomas Friedman's august predictions, "Tom Friedman's Flexible Deadlines: Iraq's 'decisive' six months have lasted two and a half years":

"The next six months in Iraq—which will determine the prospects for democracy-building there—are the most important six months in U.S. foreign policy in a long, long time." (New York Times, 11/30/03)
"What I absolutely don't understand is just at the moment when we finally have a UN-approved Iraqi-caretaker government made up of—I know a lot of these guys—reasonably decent people and more than reasonably decent people, everyone wants to declare it's over. I don't get it. It might be over in a week, it might be over in a month, it might be over in six months, but what's the rush? Can we let this play out, please?"
(NPR's Fresh Air, 6/3/04)

"What we're gonna find out, Bob, in the next six to nine months is whether we have liberated a country or uncorked a civil war."
(CBS's Face the Nation, 10/3/04)

"Improv time is over. This is crunch time. Iraq will be won or lost in the next few months. But it won't be won with high rhetoric. It will be won on the ground in a war over the last mile."
(New York Times, 11/28/04)

"I think we're in the end game now…. I think we're in a six-month window here where it's going to become very clear and this is all going to pre-empt I think the next congressional election—that's my own feeling— let alone the presidential one."
(NBC's Meet the Press, 9/25/05)

"Maybe the cynical Europeans were right. Maybe this neighborhood is just beyond transformation. That will become clear in the next few months as we see just what kind of minority the Sunnis in Iraq intend to be. If they come around, a decent outcome in Iraq is still possible, and we should stay to help build it. If they won't, then we are wasting our time."
(New York Times, 9/28/05)

"We've teed up this situation for Iraqis, and I think the next six months really are going to determine whether this country is going to collapse into three parts or more or whether it's going to come together."
(CBS's Face the Nation, 12/18/05)

"We're at the beginning of I think the decisive I would say six months in Iraq, OK, because I feel like this election—you know, I felt from the beginning Iraq was going to be ultimately, Charlie, what Iraqis make of it."
(PBS's Charlie Rose Show, 12/20/05)

"The only thing I am certain of is that in the wake of this election, Iraq will be what Iraqis make of it—and the next six months will tell us a lot. I remain guardedly hopeful."
(New York Times, 12/21/05)

"I think that we're going to know after six to nine months whether this project has any chance of succeeding. In which case, I think the American people as a whole will want to play it out or whether it really is a fool's errand."
(Oprah Winfrey Show, 1/23/06)

"I think we're in the end game there, in the next three to six months, Bob. We've got for the first time an Iraqi government elected on the basis of an Iraqi constitution. Either they're going to produce the kind of inclusive consensual government that we aspire to in the near term, in which case America will stick with it, or they're not, in which case I think the bottom's going to fall out."
(CBS, 1/31/06)

"I think we are in the end game. The next six to nine months are going to tell whether we can produce a decent outcome in Iraq."
(NBC's Today, 3/2/06)

"Can Iraqis get this government together? If they do, I think the American public will continue to want to support the effort there to try to produce a decent, stable Iraq. But if they don't, then I think the bottom is going to fall out of public support here for the whole Iraq endeavor. So one way or another, I think we're in the end game in the sense it's going to be decided in the next weeks or months whether there's an Iraq there worth investing in. And that is something only Iraqis can tell us."
(CNN, 4/23/06)

"Well, I think that we're going to find out, Chris, in the next year to six months—probably sooner—whether a decent outcome is possible there, and I think we're going to have to just let this play out."
(MSNBC's Hardball, 5/11/06)

This is what passes for analysis in the mainstream media these days.

Jonathan Bennett

2006-06-13T09:53:00.000-05:00

I've talked about J-Dog Bennett before: the best living analytical philosopher. I've talked about his mastery of Spinoza and of his work on moral statements regarding the act itself. He has got it going on. I'm lovin' it! C'mon now!

I just read his book on the Empiricists and I'm juiced up and ready to roll. If you can read one book this year, and you want to know what Hume, Berkely, and Locke were really up to, read this book.

My thoughts have been interrupted by a remake of Doctor Feelgood--that sounds like it was remade by...Motley Crue?

Walking through a cemetary

2006-05-31T12:00:00.000-05:00

In Syracuse there is a huge cemetery that by American standards is really quite old. The cemetery is comprised of hills and a disorderly array of mausoleums and monuments. A few nights ago I walked through a portion of it with my girlfriend and some new acquaintances. It was exceptionally beautiful. I liked the brash pyramids, obelisks, and statues that the older generation’s wealthy left to mark their existence. It felt like walking through a chessboard whose players had both been thoroughly defeated. A hill gave a vantage point of a stone staircase leading to an entire clan’s burial mound—and here, for me, the inartistic, the choices of design seemed significant.

I liked the cemetery more than any museum. I prefer history to style. I like the idea of trans-generational communication, a reaffirmation of Koholeth’s dictum that there is nothing new under the sun:

A young black child who died only a few years ago has a meager wire sign as a marker. The sign is already rusting away. Nearby, a Civil War general is marked by a small castle.

I like this—The appearance of a significant fact that begs for moral evaluation. A disparity of memorial. It begs for a poetic interpretation suggesting depth, feeling, and indignation. Surrounded by so many dead however, the demands of a “principled” justice sound like the annoying cries of children complaining about who gets more candy.

Tales of Pants

2006-05-28T11:31:00.000-05:00

Hey gang!
Sorry about the lack of updates. I have temporarily moved my central command from the Big Easy to the Cool North East. Consequently my continuous Internet access has been severely curtailed by the logjams and SNAFUS brought about by relocating my passion.

But enough of my heartfelt apologies. I write this blog to tell the masses of the delicate interplay between my active processes (i.e. the causal forces stemming from my essence) and the passions imposed upon me by the entirety of the natural world. Yes my friends, I am writing today about my recent purchase of pants.

Buying clothes, getting a haircut, and engaging in good grooming habits is quite complicated for me. In many ways I am a vain man. I want to look good. I want the ladies to want to get with me, and the guys to want to be me. I am a vain man.

I also am very critical of the concept of fashion, and I hate the appearance of vanity. I see some dude in a pink shirt and popped collar and I think, “What an asshole!” I see some guy in anything non-functional that was selected because it looks good and I want to say, “hey, grow some testicles buddy!” You see the problem. My vanity is centered upon my seeming superiority to fashion. I want to mock those who mock trends. I want to be above it all. Yet, despite my desire to ascend to the heights of asexual detachment, I still have to put on a pair of pants in the morning.

Back in the day I had a girlfriend (now an ex) who mocked my pants. She thought I would look better if I had more current pants without pleats. I protested that she wanted to make me look like a backstreet boy. She bought me some cool pants as a gift and after some deep soul searching I found I could maintain my “straight as an arrow” sexuality while wearing these cool pants. They soon became the workhorse of my pant collection.

Most of my pants enter my consciousness in this way. My mom, my sister, my girlfriend, will eventually decide that I look stupid and try to upgrade my fashion. I usually refuse to shop with them. On the rare occasions when I do enter a clothing store with them I tend to become hostile to them and to the salesclerks. We usually leave quickly with my sisters and mom slightly embarrassed and with me holding a pair of poorly fitted jeans.

I hate shopping for clothes. I don’t know anything about clothes. I don’t know what a pair of pants is supposed to cost, I don’t know how it is supposed to fit, and I don’t know what I am supposed to “like” when someone asks me if I like a pair. I just want to be able to leave the store with a pair of pants that will make me look attractive without looking like a pretty boy.

This is where the girlfriend’s come in. It is they who force me into the current decade of fashion. For example, I now sport a pair of modest side-burns. Back in the army I had the same hair-do I have now: a shaved head. The ladies kept saying I would look better with sideburns. I thought side-burns were a sign of non-homosexual gayness, on account of how all the guys in 90210 had sideburns. I hadn’t noticed that 10 years had past since Newsweek noted the trend. I looked around and found that manly men had indeed taken up the style and that I could sport the ‘burns without being compared to a T.V. show actor. I grew in the side-burns, and every girl who had seen the before and after image commented on how I looked better with burns. The women know.

Last week I went shopping with my lady and some dear friends of mine. I needed some jeans. The jeans these days are flared! I tried on bell bottoms! I felt like a twat! But, the ladies preferred the funky fresh look of bell bottoms to my straight fitting Ranglers. I was aghast! Then I notice that the male in my shopping gang was wearing bell bottoms. So was this other dude in the store. Pants with flare! Many of my friends wore flared pants. Many indeed. I bought the pants the women recommended. I have bell bottoms in my wardrobe now.

Part of me feels like a sell out. As a child I thought the Brady bunch wore stupid pants. Now I wear those very pants. I am getting used to them. A great circle of life. Newton dressed like a fop, and Spinoza wore Dutch collars. The professor of Passion can wear bells.

No loose ends

2006-05-04T13:14:00.000-05:00

Howdy fellow travelers of the golden path!
I have finished all of my papers for this semester. I even ordered all the textbooks for the class I am teaching next year. I gave a fond farewell to my professors and I begin the summer a naked horse biting at the bridle. Soon I shall shoot forth from the gate, frothing with bookish excitement. No more playing catch up. I have some editing to do, but aside from that I am a free agent, following my nose and a philosophical hunch! I am going to explore: analyticity, entailment, predication, stipulation, meaning, Wittgenstein, Quine, and Spinoza. This at least is my stated mission. I will probably end up drinking a lot of beer and watching Maury Povich.

Last Basketball post...for awhile.

2006-05-03T22:40:00.000-05:00

I found this on ESPN's NBA page:

"How eerie do you find it that the Lakers' season continues to play out like the movie 'Teen Wolf?' Kobe plays like the Wolf all season only to show up for the playoffs in human form. You can just imagine him telling everyone before the series, 'I think we can take these guys. We don't NEED the Wolf.' Now everyone is making shots and playing so much good team ball that Mark Safan is probably calling Jerry Buss every day trying to talk him into scheduling a performance of 'Win in the End' at the Staples Center. You even have the coach who looks disinterested most of the time and is very philosophical (I remember reading that the original title of Phil's book was, 'Never Play Cards With a Guy Who Has the Same First Name as a City'). Has there ever been a movie more synchronized to [a] real sports story line?"

This is very true. Before this series I laughed at this comic:

See, Kobe, named himself the Black Mamba before the season. He is the best player in the league but prior to the last few weeks of the season, played incredibly selfishly--all his teammates would just stand around and watch him shoot over triple teams. After he won the scoring title he started passing to his teammates...and the Lakers looked pretty good. Everyone thought once the playoffs came he would go back to his selfish ways and score 62 or even 81 points in a playoff game. Instead...he re-enacted Teenwolf.

Oh yeah, not only is he probably a rapist, his teammate just got busted for sexual assault. Go Lakers!

WOOO! Detroit Wins!

2006-05-01T22:15:00.000-05:00

Here is a video of the famous crotch grab:

And here is Larry getting beat down by the Prince of Darkness.

Basketball is great.

Another Reason I like the NBA. (trust me, read this)

2006-05-01T11:50:00.000-05:00

"(Reggie) Evans grabbed the Los Angeles Clippers center from behind and below the belt in the second quarter of Game 4 in Denver, prompting Kaman to shove him to the ground. Officials did not see Evans' move, whistling only Kaman for a type-one flagrant foul and Nugget Ruben Patterson for a technical foul for the chest-pounding that followed." Denver Post

"But with the benefit of instant replay, the NBA could set Denver back a second power forward; Kenyon Martin remains under a team suspension. NBA spokesman Tim Frank said Sunday that the league is investigating. It could hit Evans with a suspension today." Denver Post

"I've talked to a lot of people, and they've never seen that," said Kaman, who spoke with NBA officials Sunday. "I've never seen that in all my years in basketball, that someone (would) do that before. I don't think it has anything to do with basketball at all. It's totally ridiculous for someone to do that in a game. I don't care one way or another what happens to him." Denver Post

"Kaman said he told referees that Evans grabbed his testicles and "pulled hard," and repeated his account in an interview Sunday with an NBA security official. TV replays appeared to indicate Evans put his hand under Kaman's shorts as they battled for position near the basket." Los Angeles Times

"Kaman, who played despite being slowed by a viral illness, said he considered punching Evans. "With what we're trying to do, I didn't want to get thrown out," he said. "I thought about it, but I knew what would happen. "One of the refs said he would have knocked [him] out. It was crazy." Los Angeles Times

"It was unbelievable," Kaman said. "Sometimes, you're boxing out and you hit somebody. But the dude reaches from behind me, grabs my (private parts) and tries to rip them off, basically. I couldn't believe it. The first thought I had was, 'What the heck just happened? I get violated and I'm playing a basketball game.' " Rocky Mountain News

"I don't want to ever talk to that guy again," Kaman said. "For somebody to do something like that to me, it's ridiculous." Rocky Mountain News

Another Nietzsche Quote

2006-04-30T15:32:00.000-05:00

If you have hung out with me, you have probably heard one of my nonsensical speeches about the asymmetry of art appreciation and science appreciation. If someone [me] doesn't appreciate mediocrity on the music stage he is "lame" or "being anti-social". If someone does appreciate scientific expertise (or even a functional grasp of scientific principles), he is a nerd, interested in boring trivial things. Think I am being too harsh? Lets put it this way, if someone starts yapping at a party about how cool some show they saw last week was, people get interested and everyone wants to offer an opinion. Now go to a party and yap about how cool the last paper you read about probabilistic reductions was. Compare the response: The music expert is cool. He/she knows more than everyone else about stuff! The science guy is a show off! He just wants to look smart!

It is possible that I am just carrying a grudge left over from high school, and that my fictional tale about the music guy and the science guy is complete bullshit-- I admit I am not objective about this. Still, I must ask, why is it that otherwise well versed fans of books, art, philosophy, culture, etc. feel nothing is amiss in their total ignorance of mathematics or any hard science?

Anyway Nietzsche busts out this related Aphorism:

Our air-- We know very well how science strikes those who merely glance at it in passing, as if they were walking by as women do and unfortunately also many artists: the severity of its service, its inexorability in small as in great matters, and the speed of weighing and judging matters and passing judgment makes them feel dizzy and afraid. Above all they are terrified to see how the most difficult is demanded and the best is done without praise and decorations. Indeed, what one hears is, as among soldier, mostly reproaches and harsh rebukes; for doing things well is considered the rule, and failure is the exception, but the rule always tends to keep quiet. This "severity of science" has the same effect as the forms and good manners of the best society: it is frightening for the uninitiated. But those who are used to it would never wish to live anywhere else than in this bright, transparent, vigorous, electrified air--in this virile air. Anywhere else things are not clean and airy enough for them; they suspect that elsewhere their best efforts would not really profit others nor give real delight to themselves; that among misunderstandings, half of their lives would slip through their finger; that they would be required to exercise a great deal of caution, conceal things, be inhibited--so many ways of losing a lot of strength for no good reason. But in this severe and clear element they have their full strength; here they can fly. Why, then go down into those muddy waters where has to swim and wade and get one's wings dirty?
No it is too hard for us to live there. Is it our fault that we were born for the air, clean air, we rivals of the beams of light, and that we wish we could ride on ethereal dust specks like these beams--not away from the sun but toward the sun!
That however, we cannot do. Let us therefore do what alone we can do: bring light to the earth, be "the light of the earth"? And to that end we have our wings and our speed and severity; for this we are virile and even terrible like fire. Let those be terrified by use who do not know how to gain warmth and light from us!
**************************************************************************
Yeah, its kinda fruity, and a bit sexist. But I like the fact that a poet and writer of his stature (also a musician) recognized that there something great about science, and something cowardly about those who avoid it.

I'm drinking wheat grass! and Super Food!

2006-04-28T19:10:00.000-05:00

I've been a big fan of freshly squeezed carrot juice for some time now. Carrot juice has become a gateway juice to stronger, more potent drinks. I've been buying ODWALLA's superfood. It is green and tasty, but too goddamn expensive. I can't afford this habit. The solution? Online I bought some wheat grass and superfood powder. You put a tablespoon of the shit in water, and the water turns into dark green slime. I love this shit. Each glass has the anti-oxident power of seven servings of vegetables! Each glass tastes like concentrated lawn mower clippings. So fresh, so alive!

Yeah, its probably silly and a waste of money. But I will continue to drink Swampthing's piss. Otherwise I just don't eat enough vegetables. I like them and all, but fuck if I'm gonna cook up some broccoli. I don't got time for that shit. I'll gladly drink the broccoli if some machine will liquify it for me, but I am not gonna stand around chewing on some plant.

Amazing Grass Green Super Food all natural ingredients:

It’s the quality not the quantity- Balanced with 25 quality ingredients your body needs…none of the inexpensive fillers and auxiliary ingredients you don’t.

1. Organic Wheat Grass Powder – One of the most potent green vegetables available. Wheat grass is and excellent source of natural vitamins, minerals, amino acids, and enzymes. When grown properly, wheat grass is known to be highly alkalizing and will help detoxify the body.

2. Organic Barley Grass Powder - Green barley leaves contain a multitude of the body's spark plugs, enzymes. Enzymes are the catalysts for the body's essential chemical reactions and are responsible for our digestive processes, for providing cellular energy, and for antioxidant effects. Considered one of the world's experts on green barely, Dr. Hagiwara, believes that there may be thousands of active enzymes in green barley, especially superoxide dismutase (SOD), a major detoxifying enzyme that helps maintain healthy joints.

3. Organic Oat Grass Powder – Part of the cereal grass family, oat grass is an excellent sources of beta-carotene, vitamin K, folic acid, calcium, iron, protein, and fiber, as well as good sources of vitamin C and many of the B vitamins.

4. Organic Alfalfa Powder – Roots grow very deep to absorb many minerals and nutrients from the soil. Contains eight essential amino acids, is a rich source of vitamin B12, natural fluoride and chlorophyll.. Recent French studies have found that alfalfa can reduce tissue damage caused by radiation exposure. In addition, it has also shown to maintain healthy cells. Because it neutralizes acidity, it promotes healthy bladders and urinary tracts.

5. Spirulina Fine Powder - Spirulina, like all edible dark green plants, is also highly alkalizing, meaning that it helps restore the acid-base balance. In other words, Spirulina helps neutralize the acidity caused by eating excess meats, starches, sugars, soft drinks and preserved foods, excess stress, excess exercise, environmental pollutants, drugs, alcohol, coffee and tobacco

6. Cracked Cell-Wall Chlorella - Chlorella is the number one selling health food supplement sold in Japan. Chlorella, a unique single-celled fresh water green algae, contains high concentrations of chlorophyll, nucleic acids, amino acids, enzymes, antioxidant carotenes, and vitamins and minerals, especially zinc.

7. Carrot Powder – Excellent source of vitamin A from Beta Carotene. Carrots are believed to be very beneficial for ocular (eye) health.

8. Flax Seed Powder - Flax seeds contain a high percentage of alpha linolenic acid (ALA), which promotes weight loss. This flax is also very high in lignans, which have anti-viral, anti-bacterial, and anti-tumor properties plus, antioxidants. Omega-3 oils exist in fish and flaxseed products. Flax seed contains high levels of the desirable Omega-3 oils that are also found in fish.

9. Soy Lecithin - Emulsifying substance found in the cells of all living organisms. Soy lecithin is widely promoted and sold as a supplement to support healthy arteries and may improve memory.

10. Raspberry Powder – Great source of beneficial photochemicals and antioxidants, which are compounds or groups of compounds that neutralize unstable molecules in humans.

11. Apple Pectin Fiber - Helps modulate blood glucose by slowing its absorption into the bloodstream. It also chelates toxins, such as heavy metals, in the intestinal tract. In addition, soluble fiber helps maintain normal cholesterol levels by binding the bile salts that cause the body to break down cholesterol to manufacture even more bile salts.

12. Spinach Powder – Good source of folate (folic acid) and loaded with antioxidants that combat free radical damage to the body’s cells.

13. Siberian Ginseng Root – Offers therapeutic benefits and increased energy. Ginseng can play an important role in maintaining sound physical as well as mental health.

14. Broccoli Powder – Good source of iron and folic acid. Broccoli is one of the richest sources of anti-oxidants and contains sulforaphane, which is believed to help maintain optimal health.

15. Pro-Biotic blend - Balanced spectrum of beneficial bacteria found in human intestinal tracts. Regular intake of beneficial probiotics can aid in maintaining healthy intestinal flora.

16. Rose Hips - Natural source of Vitamin C. Promotes good health with bioflavonoids and strong antioxidant and immunity support.

17. Brown Rice Bran – Whole grain insoluble fiber—the type of fiber some scientists believe may help protect against a variety of cancers.

18. Bee Pollen - Known to increase energy and stamina. Also rich in B vitamins and antioxidants, including lycopene, selenium, beta-carotene, vitamin C, vitamin E, and several flavanoids.

19. Pineapple Powder – Good source of digestive enzymes, vitamin C and natural source for flavoring.

20. Royal Jelly - If it's good enough for the Queen Bee, it must be great for you! It has been shown to maintain healthy cholesterol levels and is renowned for its antibacterial properties. It is taken widely maintain a healthy digestive system and support a healthy cardiovascular system.

21. Peppermint Powder – Acts as a muscle relaxant, particularly in the digestive tract and has many therapeutic benefits.

22. Green Tea - Since ancient times, green teas have been used to boost immune function. Supports liver health and contains catechins which show a wide range of protective effects, including cardioprotective, chemoprotective, and anitmicrobial properties.

23. Acerola Cherry Extract 4:1 - Nature’s richest source of vitamin C. Vitamin C is a premier antioxidant and important for overall health of the immune system.

24. Beet Juice Powder – High source carotenoids such as lycopene and lutein that supports optimum health. Contains betaine, which stimulates the function of liver cells and protects the liver and bile ducts.

25. Stevia – Natural herb used for sweetener and has some therapeutic benefits.

Today I am a moviebot!

2006-04-27T15:08:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I continued my paper about octopi. This got me inspired to watch some octopus videos and eventually led to my watching of the Life Aquatic.
I love this movie. A lot of people I know like it, or really like it, but I actually love it.
Here’s why:

Bill Murray says something in the movie about how being eleven was the best part of life. I don’t know if that is necessarily true but I do see why he would say it. When I was a kid I loved science. I couldn’t think of anything else I would do except be a scientist. I collected rocks, insects, and played with microscopes and telescopes. I didn’t just collect rocks, look at the moon, and play with bugs. I actually studied these things. All of my rocks were labeled and organized by mineral, rock type, or crystalline structure. I would get pissed if someone called an insect a bug and I had posters of the solar system on my bedroom wall.

For me, when I am nostalgic towards childhood it isn’t because I miss childish fun or games, or some sort of innocence. Instead I long for the time when the world seemed eminently worth knowing. When every fact about the world just made it seem that much more awesome. “Holy shit Halley’s comet travels how fast?…Sweet. ” “The Apatosaor had two brains? That’s great!”

The Life Aquatic or “How Steve Zizzou got his groove back” is about the triumph of that feeling. The sense of pure wonder replaces Steve's half hearted drive for revenge, and his half hearted drive for love. It is only this emotion that moves him past the death of his friend, the death of his son, and his personal failures. Morality and purpose never take hold or provide comfort in the film: When Dafoe righteously calls the pirates monsters, Murray responds, “Yeah well I killed one of their guys when I shot him in the neck, we aren’t doing too bad ourselves”.
When his wife tells him his cat died, bitten by a rattlesnake he yells at her for telling this information to him so coldly. When his son warmly asks him what type of cat it was, Zizzou responds: “Who gives a shit.”

The hero of the story is a vain lying thief. He shows signs of real leadership: he single handedly kicks the shit out of a group of pirates, but he is also incompetent and lazy.

Every scene that centers upon the social plot of love and jealousy, or human betrayal, features some sort of animal creature in the background—often a little claymation lizard or a little seahorse. There is always some natural organism in the visual scene that either distracts from the drama, or shows the drama to be the distraction. Only life and death is given center attention.

The childish view of wonder wins out: even the father and son relationship can be viewed as one of discovery. Zizzou doesn’t learn not to cheat on his wife. He doesn’t learn to be kind to the interns. He doesn't become greater than his failings. He may not even be an admirable man but we like the guy nonetheless. More important than the deaths, more important than the successful conclusion of Zizzou's documentary, the emotional peak of the film is when all of Team Zizzou sees the Jaguar Shark--when they see the animal that is greater than any of their concerns, and greater than their drama. Pure exploration and adventure—the uncovering of more of the world is what saves Zizzou.

Spinoza would probably like this film.

The Secret Mornings of Whole Foods

2006-04-25T10:32:00.000-05:00

Howdy my friends. Not to long ago I wrote a story about my once a week social journey to the grocery store. One of the grad students would drive me to Walmart and I would proceed to take part in Hi-Jinks with the fried chicken lady. Well, my friends, these adventures are no more. Now I ride my bike to the much closer Whole Foods. It is about a five mile bike ride to the store, but most of the ride is through campus and the beautiful swan filled Audobon park. I was pretty hesitant to buy groceries without a car. I eat a lot of food, and I could never carry a week’s supply in my back pack. The solution? I ride to the store about three times a week! It’s a great bike ride, its not too hot in the morning, and I just pick up the food that I want to eat the next couple of days. All in all, a very nice way to live.

Whole foods is a fancy place with fancy organic food. Good stuff, but expensive. Anyway this morning my powerful legs exceeded my own already incredible expectations: I arrived at the store toot sweet! The store wasn’t even open yet! I was sort of oblivious to this “not being open” shit, because I didn’t notice the people hovering around the automatic doors that would not automatically open. I just force the door open, grabbed a basket and started shopping.

Inside a manager, a security guard, and the flower arranging lady all yelled at me. “Woah, woah, woah, people. I made a simple mistake. I’ll just wait outside for the store to open.” The flower lady was cool and said I could just sit and wait in the flower section of the store. And so I did. Seated, and surrounded by lovely blossoms I overheard all the secrets of Whole Foods:

On the intercom some guy said “LETS GET READY TO….SELL PROOOOOOODUUUUUCE! Just like a boxing announcer.

The manager kept running around pumping up employees. “Lets get this aisle SPOTLESS! WOOO!---he actually screamed “WOO” a lot. So did the lady employees in response. “WOOO!”

The announcer announced the recent marriage of one of the checkout ladies. The other checkout ladies responded with cries of “WOO!”

I got excited and shouted out “WOO” myself.

Conclusion: I like Whole Foods. It sucks that I can’t afford any meat there except for turkey cold cuts, and I don’t really buy into all the organic food hype. I also don’t like that they won’t carry genetically modified food. I like genetically modified food (I like feats of engineering in general). I do however like how the store pays their employees a good salary. I like how things look clean, and I like how the food products (except for the vegan “meat like” products) actually look like food. No purple ketchup here. The dairy stuff also taste really good. I bet if they sold fried chicken, it would taste awesome.

Staying up late, writing 'bout octopi

2006-04-23T16:53:00.000-05:00

Whenever I want to feel at one with the universe, I just think about how great the octopus is. I find true peace thinking about the existence of blinky eyed, color changing, eight armed monsters with drills, poisons, water jets, suction pads and ink. I am in a state of great enlightenment because I am writing a paper that deals extensively with octopi. The paper is ostensibly about memes, but in my heart it is a tribute to my friend the octopus.

Let me tell you about the past two days:

2006-04-21T00:54:00.000-05:00

A bee stung me. It hurt. My finger swelled up just a tiny a bit where he stung me. He stung me because I smashed him against my neck. He landed on the back of my neck and I felt him and smacked him. He stung me, and I realized he was not a fly but a bee. That was yesterday. Today I awoke and my finger was pretty big. But not too big. Bee stings aint shit.

Whilst reading outside out on the university’s green space I over heard one fat girl say to another fat girl, “Its like, muy hot out here”. That comment has bothered me more than the bee sting. “Muy hot” is pretty stupid. “Its like, muy hot” is unforgivably stupid.

The other stupid thing I heard I had to write down. Someone said this while presenting a thesis about the origins of grammar. To best appreciate the stupidity of this statement I should inform you that this was in a graduate level seminar, and the discussion was supposed to be centered upon a possible evolutionary theory for syntax. The student has had all semester to research this topic. When it became clear the presentation had to do with semantics and not syntax the professor clarified the distinction between the two and asked her if she could apply her argument to syntax. To this request the student responded:

“I didn’t really focus on the syntax and stuff, of you know, but more language and everything.”

Roughly translated this means:

“Not only can I not speak about syntax, I must speak in a way that shows I cannot even apply it. Further I need to add the empty phrase “and stuff” because I can’t be bothered to think before I open my mouth. I was too lazy to do any of the research I was required to do but I wont admit I am ignorant about something. I like to waste your time talking nonsense. I also like to hide my ignorance by shoving it in your face. I claim that while I didn’t focus upon syntax I focused upon language, which is comprised of both syntax and semantics. That makes sense. To top it off I will also claim that I focused upon everything. That’s right. It is impossible for me to answer some silly question about syntax, because I have already focused upon everything.”

2 Comedic Observations about Real life (Basketball)

2006-04-18T21:39:00.000-05:00

The NBA playoffs are just around the corner. To whet your appetite I will offer two astute observations about the NBA.
My first observation is well known to anyone who casually follows the NBA.
Observation 1: Sam Cassell is the ugliest athelete in the world.
His picture supplies enough gags to make this observation "Comedic". It needs no funny caption to make me laugh.

Bonus Caption: ["My face is as ugly as my balls!"]

Next, I present an observation about the prevalence of headbands.
Observation 2: It is no longer noteworthy for a basketball player to wear a headband.
In my day only Dire Straits, Clifford Robinson and actors playing people engaged in aerobic activities wore headbands. Now all basketball players do. In this observation the comedy was supplied by my reference to a rock band, an old school baller who wore headbands in the nineties, and a trend portrayed in eighties sitcoms. The act of referral is very funny. The picture however is not funny. It supplies evidence for my observation as well as evidence of the love the Pistons players have for one another.

Cole Slaw

2006-04-16T18:52:00.000-05:00

Cooole SLAAAW

Cole Slaw mother fucker!

Mother Fucking Cole Slaw

Cee!

Mother fucking!

OLE…SLAW

Are you down wit da Cole Slaw?

Suckaz!

Land of Chedder rejects the Passion!

2006-04-15T18:29:00.000-05:00

I want to start this jammy jam with a shout out to my home boy who just got P-h-mother fucking D'd at the school who just rejected my ass. Congrats B.R. Congrats.

After the delightful intro I now begin the arduous task of explaining to my dear readers/fans why I was rejected. I know you are all shocked: "How could anyone reject the living Passion of SDK, the six day kid?" How indeed.

And yet this is not the first rejection I ever received. In fourth, fifth, and eighth grade the ladies I wooed so valiantly turned down my offer to "go out with me". Sources tell me these women cry themselves to sleep nightly thinking of what could have been.

Thats not all. Certain units of the I.D.F deemed themselves too "bad ass" for me. Can you believe that? They thought the ruckus I brought wasn't sufficiently terrifying enough for the missions they specialized in. As shocking as this may seem they were right. Early on I was in fact "soft" and I did in fact "break". While few men can compete with the total package of war-man-ship that I became: the emotional distance, the creative intellect, the calm aggression, and the wolverine-esque "berserker mode"-- there are far greater warriors then I. The I.D.F sleeps soundly with their decision, and my Golani brothers thank them for it.

The academic rejections are different. I don't know if I have a completely false valuation of myself. I consider myself a fairly smart guy. I know I don't write well, and even my formal argumentation is often quite sloppy. But false messiahs be damned! I have yet to meet a student who I couldn't keep up with--and this is what worries me. I've met plenty of people who I politely tolerate while they spout off nonsense. Am I that guy? Am I the nut job that no one bothers to refute because a) I'll keep talking or b) they don't want to piss me off.
I think my friends are smart and they like to talk to me...but schools don't want my war ravaged face on their campuses. I don't understand.

I have decided to give it one more go. I am going to teach the balls out of some freshman college students during the next school year. I am also going to apply to four more universities that have Spinoza scholars. If they don't take me I am going finish my degree and then straight up get some wealth.

[oh yeah, the picture: The Onion also finds Rasheed Wallace very funny. The caption for the picture is "the nba names a foul after Rasheed Wallace"

Getting Passed Over or Jewish Angst

2006-04-13T21:54:00.000-05:00

Most holidays don't interest me. I spent Thanksgiving waiting tables without feeling any loss. I spent Yom Kippur fixing up the house from the hurricane damage. Its a typical pattern: I blow off nearly every Shabbos, Sukkot, Purim, Shavuot holiday and simply act like the rationalist bad ass I am. In Israel I celebrated these holidays because they actually felt like real celebrations. Its kinda like how you can feel festive on your birthday if everyone around you is getting pumped up for it, but if you are by your self you feel like a pathetic jerk blowing out sad candles on the cake you just baked. In the homeland celebrating these events just made sense. Here, it is just awkward.

So this year I missed out on Passover. It is my favorite holiday. You get a great meal and a discussion about the meaning of slavery, freedom, religion, revenge, hope, nationalism, all in the context of multiple glasses of wine and singing. I have spend quite a few Passovers away from my family--it is the fate of the Diaspora Jew that the ideal travel times for seeing family corresponsd with the holidays of the host country not of the family--but even in these cases I usually know enough Jews that someone invites me over and I can get my Passover on.

This year my landlord is my only local Jewish friend. He invited me over but because he was having a huge international family reunion I didn't show up. I didn't feel like being the one non-family member at his table. So I spent the holiday eating ice cream and reading a criticism of Kantian geometry. It is a pretty good paper, and reading it cheers me up, but I am surprisingly depressed about missing the celebration.

So it’s a strange situation. Like a Birthday, I realize that holidays are simply arbitrary points on the calendar—and yet, like a Birthday they are emotionally difficult to ignore. Something about that date makes you think about your age. Something about the Jewish holidays makes me think about the kind of Jew I have become. I don’t think I ever be a sentimental boob about holiday spirit and what not but I think it was a mistake for me to miss out on the celebration. I will not ignore this holiday again.

I want to be able to celebrate the Jewish holidays without feeling like a lonely birthday boy. To do that, I have to find a place within the American Jewish Community and this is actually a pretty hard thing for me to do. The religious component of this community doesn’t look kindly on my lack of interest in performing ritual activities (I don't pray or keep kosher or keep Shabbat) or my disbelief in Rabbinical and Scriptural Authority—while the reform component doesn’t take kindly to my disinterest in maintaining the shallow bonds of shared gyms and swimming pools. I don't like to socialize and I don’t know where I can fit in. I would feel like a liar going to synagogue everyday, but I feel like a liar pretending these holidays aren’t important to me. What would Jesus do?

Another quote of the day:

2006-04-12T09:57:00.000-05:00

Unconcerned, mocking, violent--thus wisdom wants us: she is a woman and always loves only a warrior.
-Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra

The Best Kind of Crazy

2006-04-10T22:37:00.000-05:00

The topic of Israel comes up again and again in the philosophy office. As the resident Zionist I am often questioned for my keen analysis of the Middle Eastern conflict. I usually try to paint a fair picture of tragic suffering and spout some platitude about hoping for peace. No longer. For now, and only now, the conflict has become personal: Hamas attacks Freemasonry.

Attacking Freemasonry is retarded. For Hamas to accept the Blood-libel, Jewish banker conspiracies, and other such nonsense makes sense in a dumbass sort of way—they have a real conflict with the Jews so one can expect them to engage in a bit of fictionalization of their enemy. But the anti-masonic articles from their 1989 charter indicates something a bit more disturbing. They believe in the kind of conspiracy theory shit that is completely inexcusable: In 1989 (not 1889 mind you) Hamas declares Freemasonry to be a enemy force that will be reckoned with:
[Spelling errors are from the translation I used]

Article Seventeen:
The Moslem woman has a role no less important than that of the moslem man in the battle of liberation. She is the maker of men. Her role in guiding and educating the new generations is great. The enemies have realised the importance of her role. They consider that if they are able to direct and bring her up they way they wish, far from Islam, they would have won the battle. That is why you find them giving these attempts constant attention through information campaigns, films, and the school curriculum, using for that purpose their lackeys who are infiltrated through Zionist organizations under various names and shapes, such as Freemasons, Rotary Clubs, espionage groups and others, which are all nothing more than cells of subversion and saboteurs. These organizations have ample resources that enable them to play their role in societies for the purpose of achieving the Zionist targets and to deepen the concepts that would serve the enemy. These organizations operate in the absence of Islam and its estrangement among its people. The Islamic peoples should perform their role in confronting the conspiracies of these saboteurs. The day Islam is in control of guiding the affairs of life, these organizations, hostile to humanity and Islam, will be obliterated.

Article Twenty-Two:
For a long time, the enemies have been planning, skillfully and with precision, for the achievement of what they have attained. They took into consideration the causes affecting the current of events. They strived to amass great and substantive material wealth which they devoted to the realisation of their dream. With their money, they took control of the world media, news agencies, the press, publishing houses, broadcasting stations, and others. With their money they stirred revolutions in various parts of the world with the purpose of achieving their interests and reaping the fruit therein. They were behind the French Revolution, the Communist revolution and most of the revolutions we heard and hear about, here and there. With their money they formed secret societies, such as Freemasons, Rotary Clubs, the Lions and others in different parts of the world for the purpose of sabotaging societies and achieving Zionist interests. With their money they were able to control imperialistic countries and instigate them to colonize many countries in order to enable them to exploit their resources and spread corruption there.

Article Twenty-Eight:
The Zionist invasion is a vicious invasion. It does not refrain from resorting to all methods, using all evil and contemptible ways to achieve its end. It relies greatly in its infiltration and espionage operations on the secret organizations it gave rise to, such as the Freemasons, The Rotary and Lions clubs, and other sabotage groups. All these organizations, whether secret or open, work in the interest of Zionism and according to its instructions. They aim at undermining societies, destroying values, corrupting consciences, deteriorating character and annihilating Islam. It is behind the drug trade and alcoholism in all its kinds so as to facilitate its control and expansion.

[As stupid as I think this is, I must admit my own ignorance: What is this Rotary and Lions club of which they speak? Any help electro-friends?]