Wednesday, April 30, 2008

The Infamous Backroom

There is a place called the NewsStand on 161. I like to go there to stock up on art magazines...sometimes. They usually have all the magazines about art and design that I am into. But there is one exception to my liking the place. The art magazines are situated by the back room. The back room holds all of the adult magazines. So, the shy guys (and surprisingly, they are all shy) have to stand around and pretend they are interested in art before they finally feel comfortable enough to go in the back room.
It is annoying. Why be so ashamed of your sexuality? I say make a beeline for that porn and be proud. Hell yeah.

Magnetic Earth

So, in 2012, when the predicted polar shift occurs and the Earth's magnetic fields go down to zero, will magnets still work? Are they somehow dependant on the Earth's magnetic forces? And if that is that case, then are magnets less strong in areas like the West coast of the US and Isreal? These are things I think about when I wake up in the morning.

Monday, April 28, 2008

A Poem by Stewart Griffin

Oh, Squiggly Line in my eye fluid,
I see you there,
Lurking on the periphery of my vision.
But when I try to look at you,
You scurry away.
Are you shy, Squiggly Line?
Why only when i ignore you,
do you return the center of my eye?
OH Squiggly Line,
It is all right.
You are forgiven.

-by Stewart Griffin

Sunday, April 27, 2008


Visit Pricasso's site.

Um,, I wonder how much DNA is in that painting...

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

This is a BEAUTIFUL work...

Got this in the post today...

It is a watercolor painting by Amy Hooton that is based on one of my brain scans.

Friday, April 18, 2008

Problem: Life's Little Challenges

Man, I totally dig sittin' out in the lanai and watching the sunset, listening to the birds sing their last song of the day, and getting totally fascinated with the silhouettes of the trees. There are so many different trees out there. And the sunset was really gorgeous tonight. Lotsa yellow and a little pink and blue.

Thaz right, I said lanai.

I was listening to exactly two songs practically on repeat. One was NIN's A Warm Place. Now that is a kick ass song. I am trying to count it out to do an animation to it, but I keep on zoning out.

The other one is heavy inspiration for an upcoming painting.


I was flying into Chicago at night
Watching the lake turn the sky into blue-green smoke
The sun was setting to the left of the plane
And the cabin was filled with an unearthly glow
In 27-D I was behind the wing
Watching landscape roll out
Like credits on a screen
The earth looked like it was lit from within
Like a poorly assembled electrical ball as we moved
Out of the farmlands into the grid
The plan of the city was all that you saw
And all of these people sitting totally still
As the ground raced beneath them thirty thousand feet down

It took an hour, maybe a day
But once I really listened, the noise
Just went away

And I was pretending that I was in a Galaxie 500 video
The stewardess came back and checked on my drink
In the last strings of sunlight, a Bridgette Bardot
There's a hat on my headphones
Along with those eyes that you get
When your circumstance is movie size

It took an hour, maybe a day
But once I really listened, the noise
Just went away

It took an hour, maybe a day
But once I really listened, the noise
Just went away

Sunday, April 13, 2008


So, a couple weeks ago I alluded to a conversation I had with James and Phil. They had posed a question, or a conundrum, that was basically as follows:

If you made an exact replica of yourself with DNA, as well as an exact imprint of your memories and knowledge, and essentially everything that makes you you up until that moment, where does your soul reside after that moment? In you, or in your duplicate, or in both?
And then in the next second the first version was killed, would you die or live on?

We pretty much determined that your soul, or your existence would remain in the original vessel. So, you-as-you-know-it would die. The duplicate of you would then become it's own entity and would not actually have your soul.

I is trippy to think about.

By the way, the wormhole time travel flow chart really has nothing to do with this quandasity. And, just so you know, "quandasity" is a made up word.

Saturday, April 12, 2008

Lotsa Time...

I wonder who actually had the time to realize that this Peter Gabriel song synced up with this part of Total Recall.

The Games We Play

A poem, or more like a lost love letter, I found ages ago somewhere on the net. It was written by some girl name Justine for a boy named Dave, who, it seems, she secretly loved.

The Games We Play

I love the way you look at me with that curiosity in your eyes.
The way you make my body tingle every time you speak.
Are we playing a game or am I just reading the signs wrong.
Am I being insensitive to your attempts?

Why do I want you so badly, but feel myself pulling back, but it's not
only me, I sense you doing something similar.
Every time I get to close you back away and I can't help wondering if
you are using me.

I don't want to lose the closeness I am so dying to share with you, so
if you think I am a nuisance, let me know.
I want so badly to get to know the inner you to which I am so strongly
drawn to, even if it means sacrificing our love.

Why isn't our friendship growing?
I have tried to come across as being cool - taking our relationship in
my stride, but I'm finding it harder and harder to hide how strongly I
feel for you.

You're acting like a boy that loves a girl, but is it genuine?
I don't know what to do, I am so confused, I don't want to follow the wrong signs.
I can't follow my heart, because I just don't want to lose you.

Yes, I admit it I am in love with you, so in love it frightens me, but
I am on solid ground and I know I will be safe.
So until I figure out how to read you, until I know what lies inside -
inside you, I guess we are going to play this game...

and I wish you would take your turn...

©Justine for Dave

Actually, I may have found it here: Literotica

Wednesday, April 2, 2008

I am drunk

Sadly, it does not take much to get my ass hammered anymore. That can be a good thing, or a bad thing, depending on the location and the company.

PS...Getting my ass hammered means getting drunk...don't want to cause any confusion there.

OH yeah, i was suppose to make this graphic/diagram to help document this weird conversation I had with Phil and James today. Very cool shit there. Maybe tomorrow.