Winter Time

Bro-ing it up sick.

Magpie.

Ducks.

Fucking emptiness.

The semester is fucking OVER! This past one was pretty brutal, but quick. I am tired of this shit and kind of just want to be done for a while. I have one more left, and it can't get done quick enough. Fucking dog is driving me nuts. Also, this is pretty boss.

BOOKZORZ!!!!

Never gonna read any of these.

So, Felicia and I, in our ever present quest to be the Uber Liberal Elitist America Destroyers that we hope to be, want to do a book club one day. Yes, she is watching some goddamn movie where there is a book club with wine and reading, and yes, I have had some vodka so I'm down for all kinds a shit. We're putting the word out. Book Club, Alaska. Get with it and you'll know. We're doin' it live so let's have some reading, and some meeting, and some drinking, and some analysis into the nature of our consciousnesses, and some crying, and maybe some sexy, sexy fluid exchange.

Oh yeah, you know you want to get up in this.

Les Etrangers

True Existential Heroes

Just because your life has no true, objective meaning is not any real reason to kill yourself right now. I mean, there is always later.

Also, I hate how it is the American tradition to always take pictures where you are smiling. That is, unless you are some goddamn emo kid who is trying to look all sad and deep and shit, but they just end up failing because we all know emo kids' lives are all jokes. I mean, seriously, when was the last time you saw an emo kid who was employed in the sex trade, or at a steel mill, or had leukemia? That's right, you haven't because emo kids are the progeny of middle class suburbanites who have not experienced, and likely will not experience, real struggle (physical or otherwise) in their lives, outside of some kind of stupid ass misplaced rage about taxes or some shit, and, as such, feel that their consciousness is invalidated.

News Flash: Emo kids, your consciousness is invalidated. The technique is down the road, not across the street. Stop "crying for help" and just do it already.

I fucking hate emo kids.

Bored

So, I have this assignment I have to do. It's the last one of the semester and it's about existential psychology.

I'm drinking beers and fucking around on the internet.

Kid Charlemagne

Watch this shit. It's pretty cool.

Last night, I was feeling totally lethargic so I had some beer on the sofa and I was watching some UFC reruns on Spike TV. Gavin and Kiernan were fascinated by watching two guys in a chain link cage beat the shit out of each other. Also, it totally didn't help that I was yelling my encouragement at the screen.

This morning as we are just fucking around in the apartment, the kids were playing this weird game where they were kicking each other in the legs and then laughing hysterically. So, naturally, I decided to set up a little match for them and video tape the results. Gavin is a natural, as you can see, and he's got some good instincts and loves wrestling. I mean check out his mean takedown in the second video. Kiernan, however is probably not mixed martial arts material because after Gavin's wicked slam, he spent the next ten minutes on the couch next to Felicia.

I "spent" $175 on books today, and Steely Dan is really fitting the groove I'm in right now.

Desecrate You

Two wine-swilling hippies at a fund raiser for the recycling center.

Hanging out at grandma's house.

Sledding.

Why the fuck would an omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent being do that?

Feety Jams rule.

Some fake mustaches.

Stockings.

Making some Christmas paper rings.

Hmm.

Making some ornaments.

Ornamented.

So here are some photos of the preparation for fucking around after the semester is over. I'll probably start up the whole blog a day thing because I'll be so bored and shit, so expect some of that for your holiday goodness. So, I've got shit to do so I'll leave this until later, so check out this new comic I've been digging on. It rules. I'll probably do some updating of links or some dumb shit also. Fuck it, I'm out.

YULENESS!

Christmas trees in the bathtub.

All snowy and shit.

Setting up the festive atmosphere with gingerbread houses and decorated trees.

Spreading some love to the cephalopods.

The goddamn dog is never looking at the camera when I am.

This is the reason I get up in the morning.

I love the holiday season. Christmas is my favorite holiday. I'm not really sure why, but I always loved the tree and the gifts and the all that shit. I remember being the kid who loved to decorate the tree, wrap presents, and, even though I never ever believed in Santa and was the kid who told other kids that Santa wasn't real, I loved unwrapping shit on Christmas morning, despite having already guessed the contents of the gifts. The consumerism isn't the point, it's the principle of the holiday: In the dead of winter, we give shit to other people to feel good/not kill ourselves because the SunGod has forsaken us. It doesn't matter what the gift is, it's the giving/receiving/interaction that matters.

I hate the Black Friday crowd and this year, they did not disappoint.

THANKS!

I feel a thing growing inside of me. I don't know what to think of it. It is there.

We had Thanksgiving and it totally ruled. Thankful for: children, wife, life, consciousness, dharma, prajna, the self that is no self and is emptiness, entertainment, ethanol, photons, The Lord God, all types of whole 'notha shit that can't be named here.

Last week we had game night and it was pretty cool with the social interaction and stuff, and today we had all the interaction there and it just kind of cements the idea that Homo sapiens is the ideal social creature and that, fuck it, we are engineered to give a fuck about each other, and that DNA mandates the idea that "No man is an island."

Fuck it, my Old Man died five years ago this month.

Hate You, Lifetime

This is how the History of Psych was really written.

I am almost finished with this behemoth of a paper, after which I will move on to some shit about ocean acidification and existential psychology. You know, I spent five years in the Marine Corps, and, at this point in my academic career, I have to say that cranking out papers on shit that I don't give two fucks about is isomorphic to running five miles in the cold after I drank too much on purpose because I hate my life.

The real thing about college is, I've found, it just wants you to think. It's like you pay X amount of money for someone to tell you to think, which is kind of why it's so absurd. I mean if you've never thought before, why would you think its a good idea to dole out the dough necessary to get told to think?

Now that the paper's mostly over, pass the wine!

Punkin

I think I have a thought, but really I should have a "thought'. The Buddha would have a field day with all of us.

Fucking Airlines

This is why I don't fly. You can tell me all that shit about how flying is so much safer than blah blah blah but the fact is the acceleration due to gravity on Earth is 9.8 m/s^2 and there's not really shit you can do about it when the pilots are facebooking and shit when they're supposed to be paying the fuck attention. Also, fuck the goddamn airlines.

Autumnal fun.

I have the feeling that if our asshole forefathers hadn't landed at Plymouth, we'd still have some kind of goddamn festival about this time of year.

Get the fuck back, Hulk.

Carving pumpkins, and shit.

It's so easy to love them unconditionally when the bastards are sleeping.

So, if you know who I am, you know that I have been battling with the existential crises of who the fuck I am and where I am going and why the fuck it all matters. It has been especially tough this time. Sure, we had an unusually gorgeous summer and fall and there's all this natural chaotic beauty around you and you just feel so fucking insignificant and all the while there is the nagging, "Yeah so what?" with it and you just want to forget.

I know why those motherfuckers say that ignorance is bliss.

Sometimes, I like to lie on the floor and just look at the ceiling and fucking sit there. I don't really know what it accomplishes but if I don't get to do it, I feel like balls.

Did I tell you that things are up in the air again? They are.

Alaska is Unequivocally Post-Race

Equality of opportunity.

Served up hot and fresh, these online newspaper comments clearly show that sexual and racial prejudice are a thing of the past.

Sun at Declination 0 Degrees

Taken at sunset on the equinox.

I've been busy as fuck. It's the sixth week into the semester already and the only reason I'm posting now instead of fucking around with schoolwork or in the math lab is that I'm stuck at home with the children who are trying to fill up the apt. with H1N1 in order to give it to me. I'll show those fuckers though. Also, I've had kind of a creative drain trying to write some grant to get money to see if hamsters will do this thing that I think they might and also I've had to read and write a bunch of stuff about the history of psychology, which, isn't boring but just takes a lot and after I'm done with that shit, I just want to play Nintendo and go to bed. As for the other shit, well, you know how the world has been going.

I will tell you this, though. I don't know how people stay fucking outraged at the state of political discourse and legislative action throughout the year. Yeah, I was pissed about the stupid Senate Finance Committee and the public option and if I ever see Max Baucus, I'll probably punch that fucker in the balls, because he obviously doesn't use them, but the motherfuckers on the interbutts are just at a whole 'notha level. You know all the ones, from both sides of the aisle too. Apparently they've never read the literature on habituation, because my give a fuck ability follows a strict habituation curve, and I like to think that I'm one of the more informed/concerned members of the electorate, especially compared to these retards talking about their grams having to get her brains blown out because Obama's team of bureaucrats command it. Fuck it. It's gone. So what. I've got other shit to occupy my time.

Anyway, to end on a foul note, go read this link. Don't forget to read those fucking comments! Truly the best that Alaska and the internet have to offer. Maybe someone out there can tell me why it is that the dumbest of the dumb get rewarded.

Super Readers

Support strangers via the internet.

pictures for sad children has a book out. Go buy this. For $25 you can have an author signed copy of some of the best comic out there.

FUCKING DO IT!

Nothing from Nothing leaves Nothing

Pretty Cool.

You know, when you see your child rocket out of the birth canal, you feel a certain something. I won't call it love, because it's not, but I will call it a sense of, "goddamn, there it is". I'm not saying this as some sort of fatalistic, this is the end of my manhood and sowing wild oats period, stupid shit. I'm saying it in the kind of fatalistic, this is my progeny and half of it is me and this is as close as I will get to immortality and I HAVE to die one day so this is just as good, so long as I educate this motherfucker right.

Tonight, I let the kids stay up as long as they wanted, provided they were quiet enough. Kiernan crapped out pretty early, at 1030 PM. Gavin maintained and it was pretty cool, I had some one on one time with my oldest, and that is always good. I showed him pictures of my parents and tried to explain to him that my parents are dead and that, despite this, they would have liked to see him.

To see the gears of a four year old attempt to grapple with mortality after I showed him pictures of his Grandma and Grandpa, brought tears to my eyes.

I ameliorated my sadness by: drinking more, and assuring him that by the time that he gets as old as I am, science will probably have solved the problem of aging so, that while I will probably grow feeble and die, that he will not.

It felt good.