my revolution

Im going to start my own revolution !- one bottle of ketchup and an ear of corn for each person in the world, everyone is happy, all problems ever.....solved.

On revolution

This is best interpreted( because you are interpreting the little black symbols from different momories stored in your head) while listening to Devo - Gut Feeling...
Revolution is an intrigueing subject. I'll spearhead the SS department of your revolution. Our Revolution. After Roberto, eeeehem, Joe Hio, posted his revolutionary decree, I knew I would have to think this one out and submit my thoughtful response. I have...until today. I think that my idea of a needed revolution is one of thought. It is very diffiicult for me to explain now, and needs some work. I will continue to update. In short, "We need to free the wreckless, Gods within us all." We need to drop all sense of society: fads, fassion, culture,gender, race, orientation, and begin to accept ourselves as individual beings of thought. Capable of conjuring any percievable emotion/thought's at complete free will. Nothing can set boundry your mind, and when it can you are but death herself. And once we have our minds lucid, and foaming, we canbegin our terrestrial Revolution. When we are sailing in pure creativity, the sea of experience will be sowed.

Dear Joe Hio

If you would like to start a revolution, I'm your man amigo. There are inumerable causes for such an event. The war in Iraq, genocide, viral pandemics, not to mention uncountable infringes on our civil rights as human beings. However I suggest a much simpler, below the radar approach. The appraoch is three fold and involves time and patience, patience that is a means to an unimaginable end. Follow me through this:
First, we must establish a few bland, menial ideas that form the shell of our organization. A few suggestions are feeding the homeless, caring for the elderly, helping people with disabilities, etc. Is doesn't really matter. You see a shell is just that; a thin outer crust that hides and protects the goods inside. What is important is that our organization much have a religious component to it. A front if you will. The reason is this: the religious front will give us a right wing appearance which gives us the confidence and trust of the conservatives as well as the affluent. which brings me to the next point.
Second, we turn our organization with its religious component and turn it into a legitimate fucking religion. We will obtain tax-free status and more importantly obtain the ability to collect money(tax-free money) from our constituents. Now we are a funded revolution with a none-the-wiser following.
Third, we slowly, quietly awaken our people to the injustices that are the body(the goods) of our revolution. Big business, oil companies, republicans, pollution, corruption, just to name a few ideas. Although, ideally we will need a more specific focus for logistic reasons.
And our movement has begun.

To prove I Am still juvenile

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Recently I have been running on 6 hours of sleep in the last 3 days. I love staying up and writing 25 page papers into the night...and onto the day. mmmmmmmm....college. On a more positive note though, in chemisty i learned H+CH3+N is a fart. The longer a fart is held in, the larger the proportion of boring, inert nitrogen it contains, because the other gases tend to be absorbed into the bloodstream through the walls of the intestine. A nervous person who swallows a lot of air and who moves stuff through his digestive system rapidly may have a lot of oxygen in his farts, because his body didn't have time to absorb the oxygen.

I also found out that there is a company called Fartypants that makes underwear that claim to absorb the smell of the fart. Liz might want to invest in a pair for matt.

I will see a lot of you in Aspen over spring break. Party monsters.

revolutionary seeking revolution

"if you don't stand for something you'll fall for anything"
"if there's nothing you're willing to die for, then what are you living for"

Where's our revolution
Where's our challenge

My biggest fear is that for the rest of my life, there will not be another stimulus that really activates my flight or fight. I have beaten social anxiety, and "one man struggles to meet girls in a new city" is no longer the teaser for the story of the moment.

So we drink. We look for thrill on the mountain. We look to a marathon for a challenge to devote ourself to. We start fights with our loved ones and ourselves, because even us on the peaceful side of mankind still have a deep intrinsic desire for challenge, drama, striving, fighting, feeling.

What we need is a calling. Our strength and ability are begging our idle minds to embrace the cold wind of a real challenge.

And they're out there. Like Kyle's friend who decided that Aids in Africa is the biggest problem facing the world so he fuckin went to africa to lend his hand. It would be nice to have a revolution we could fight for in our free time, but it seems like it's not a viable option at the moment. It seems to require 100% devotion, but I suppose I'll take that route over 10% devotion to a job, anothrt 20 t friends and family and all the rest just sitting there waiting and dying.

Growing up, it was all challenges and growth. The world was an incredible place, and no day went by uneventfully. Everyone around us taught and urged us forward. Now, not so much. We reclined into a couch of our friends, family, routine and responsibilities, and are muscles are getting stiff. I am troubled by the reality that this is not something that can be delayed for long, responsibilites attack the idle, and that's a battle that is difficult to win.

Liger

Kate will espiacially enjoy this one

http://www.sierrasafarizoo.com/animals/liger.htm

Behold the beauty
Majestic stripes and biting
behold the liger

Haiku-fu

leaves and silent eyes
wind counts time and passes
worn brown, forgotten

I'm sick

This Blog (I don't like the name blog) is one that is mainly for me. Meaning that it may just be nonsensical. I would like to start it off with a quote that I had from my reridgerator magnet poetry: "When Pants smell eggy, shake finger" It didn't mean much for me at the time but it is making soo much sense to me right now. Dreaming is great. Repeated dreaming is great. It all started when I was on a hike down some canyon. It was a red desert canyon with swift moving crystal clear water probably about 20ft below the trail that I was walking on with some other touristy types, Namely a middle aged man and his young (Ie. 10years old) son. The son and I were somehow skitching along the trail with the help of some high powered kites. When I was pulled over the stream and was waterskiing. I was cruising down the river faster and faster until I had to bail in some slower water up ahead. I returned to the trail only to see the younger boy, in red trunks might I add, unknowingly diving into some faster water ahead. So me and his father went through some trials and tribulations to get him out just before some falls just ahead. It was at this point in the dream where things began to get a little more mellow, for that brief scene I had been quite emotionally worked up. No longer was I on the trail with the touristy group I was no there with a good friend of mine and another indescriminate friend type person. We all some how fell again into a pool, crystal clear might I add, and my good friend had busted a hole in his head. Again I was quite emotionally worked up again about it and a bit frantic until I found later that he was alright. My dream became all of a sudden very unreal and fantastic as opposed to the other portion of my dream. I had experienced aspects of this dream as well in past nightly journeys. I was of course able to fly. I was with some other indescriminate woman who had just learned to fly. Not everyone knew how to fly, only this girl and I. It was a fresh spring day with the blue azure sky with whispy clouds. I remeber me trying to show the girl that she should fly straight up and get to unspeakable heights, and just freefall. I remeber a very specific feeling that this would give you very similar to the drops on a rollercoaster. My dream began suddenly to take a more fretfull turn. It was a cool night I remember with the town of Boulder spectacularily lit up. I floated down to this abandonded warehouse typ of structure and there was some sort of evil being just outside the structure. Often he would make the most wretched gurgling scream, he was a dark figure in the parkinglot surrounding this building. For some reason I was safe inside this structure and was again with my good friend. We decided that it may be a good idea to practice our archery with two rickety bows and arrows we had lying around. It was necessary to practice because there was the threat of an impending battle ahead. My dream life was then changed swiftly again to the canyon world. Me and the tourist group were on our way out of the canyon. We were ascending out of it onto some sort of plateau. We stopped to take pictures and then I was taking one with this kid. I remember specifically not being able to remember if this was a man or a woman. Then the kid began to kiss me and I was a little shocked. Then I remember her telling me that she was a woman, like she knew that I didn't know. I told her "I am very sorry but I have a girlfriend who is back with the others." That little incident out of mind I was surmounting this plateau and on the top was the most magnificent monastary of sorts. It was a large red clay building that was very geometrical in shape and had no angles other than right angles. I have seen this monastary before in previous dreams. The most magnificent part of this holy building was its beautiful grass that was outlined by white sidwalks around it. It was permanantly still. No wind, strong sun. I sat beneath a tree. When I again was transported to another region of dreaming. I was know in some basement somewhere where a man was releasing large bulls at me and some other kids. The weird thing is that we were doing it for fun and the man had no evil in him at all. It was then my turn to have the bull unleashed at me, it was, a particularily gruesome one. I tried faking it out and zig zagging but nothing shook this beast. He was on me alright and I could feel him on my back and was running up stairs just as he smashed me in a corner. I remember having an outerbody experience and wathcing myself get smashed. I was then suddenly sucked back into dream-reality and on the 1st floor of this house. I remember many dogs wanted to get in and out of the basement. Just as I began manifesting my next dream adventure. I was next visiting a family in Kyrghizstan. I was quite frightened to be there. It was in a very mountainous region and the house was just balancing on the very edge of a cliff many of thousands of feet high. There was some interacting with the children of the group. It should be noted that there was one in particular who was white and overweight. There was some sort of reporter there who was reporting on the situation. I then went outside. It was extrememly windy on this barren cliff. I was kicking around a ball or something by myself when my dad showed up. We began to walk a little when I heard a plane overhead. I laughed and said "There goes the Luftwafa" -Dream of February 22nd 2005 after a long bender weekend and the beginning of a sickness.

Checking in

Hello all. Just checking in. Yeah.

In recent news, I tried to make my first fireplace fire the other night. The wood was wet and cold, which should have stopped me, but no..I'm cocky with fires. After an hour of burning paper and trying futily to light the wood I gave up, having little to show for my efforts except a burnt finger, pants drenched in spilled lighter fluid, and an injured knee (from attempting to break a log over it).
Fireplace: 1
Kyle: 0

"save as draft"

You probably noticed that there's a "save as draft" button next to the "publish post" button. Sometimes if you're totally inept and bastardly you'll accidentally press the save as draft button, which will make it so others can't read your poast. i'll let you know when this happens.

jake your post about career choices was 'saved as draft'. want me to publish it?

Hunter

You'll probably all know this by the team you read my words on the matter, but if not, Hunter S. Thompson has been found dead of a self-inflicted gunshot. I'd say may he rest in peace right now if i thought that this man had even the slightest tendency towards inner peace.

My first thoughts were that it is likely the result of foul-play. This man has never taken the easy way out with anything, he thrust himself into a horribly difficult career, and chose to do it in a way no one had done before. He took massive doses of drugs that even the strong-willed members of this blog have a respectful fear for. The Fear & Loathing story is a perfect example. A struggling writer given a big assignment to cover a difficult story. So he destroys himself on substances, past the point of being able to cover the story, and even past the point of being able to conduct himself like even a decadent member of society. Certainly he would choose to end life the same way he lived it, in a manic, sadly hilarious craze. One blogger suggested a fitting headline would be "HST killed by police after consuming 100 tabs of LSD and spray-painting murals on cop cars".
Counter-argument: As another pointed out, he was brilliant with both guns and drugs, and knew how to use both as well as he knew how to craft anything into a brutal, hilarious story. He was apparently in a lot of pain from broken bones and surgeries, and was never the type you expected to die in a hospital. One of his favorite quotes is "he who makes a beast of himself gets rid of the pain of being a man." perhaps mental pain, the seasoned veteran, tag-teamed with the tough, new, physical pain and he chose to lose the bout. perhaps. another quote:
The Edge... "there is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over"

I'm not sure if I can honestly say he's my favorite writer, but he's the closest of any to an idol. He lived his art as well as he wrote it, which is pretty damn well.

Here's a few of my memories.
-The entire Fear & Loathing book/movie, nearly verbatim.
-Him running for sherriff of Aspen on the Freak POwer ticket, I believe, with brilliant tactics such as shaving his head and referring to his crew-cut opponent as "my long-haired opponent" and "refusing to compromise on the eating mescaline while on the job issue...or any other issue for that matter"
-me just opening up my FearAnd Loathing in America (all letters to and from him) book to search for whether it was indded the "freak power ticket", turning to a random page and being greeted by the line, "David...you scurvy pig-fucker. I was just about to send you some mescaline when i talked to Jann & found out that all my daily expenses on the Salazar/Vegas stories were disallowed--for reasons of gross excess and irresponsible outlay." he goes on to call the guy a devious pervert, a treacherous pig, and a dirty catholic bastard.
-Hells Angels is a damn good book, I should not have traded it for slaughterhouse 5.
-His article on how to improve baseball, which calls for replacing the pitcher with a robot and having only one base, among other things that would probably be improvements of this mindlessly boring "pass-time" (sp)
-winning a bet on the world series, and taking the saudi prince's sister, princess omin, hostage until he paid up, which i'm not sure he ever did.
-shooting his assistant while trying to scare a bear form the property.
and many more...more will come when i read the rest of his books.

final thoughts: i suppose i first liked him because he did lots of drugs and told a good story. I like him even more now, for different reasons. He did something incredible, and he did it his own way. He wrote a news story the way no one ever wrote them before, and to me, his way was better. Also, He had his messages, and he made the world hear them. What 2 more important lessons are there to teach an aspiring writer?

Here's some links:
Articles:
http://abcnews.go.com/US/wireStory?id=518158
http://www.aspentimes.com/article/20050220/NEWS/102210004
http://www.denverpost.com/Stories/0,1413,36%257E53%257E2724455,00.html
Blogs:
http://www.iamcorrect.blogspot.com/
http://www.livejournal.com/users/docgonzo19/3127.html
Quotes
http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/h/hunter_s_thompson.html
Most Recent Writings?
http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/archive?columnist=hunter_s._thompson&root=page2

I can't feel my arms!!!!1 

Blogging Basics

here's a few tips for doin stuff.

ENTRY: You can get to the site by going to www.blogger.com (then sign in) or cousinparty.blogspot.com. If you want to show it to friends, they have to use the second way to get in. They can also post comments on entries if they want.

COMMENTS: you can comment on entries anonymously as yourself. non-cousins can comment as well. so sometimes it's good to go through some old posts and see if there's any new comments.

POSTING LINKS: easiest way is to just write the address and people can copy and past it, but if you want to get classy on some hyperlink shit, here's how. type the following, but replacing every $ with a <
$BlogItemURL>
$a href="$web address>">What you want to call it$/a>
$/BlogItemURL>
so here's what it looks like when yer done: I found the most unbelievable web-site on the planet.

check it out here


Perhaps this describes it better


POSTING PICS:
Read about it here

It's a little complicated, but it is possible.

All this and anything else you can find in help.

Get R Done

What do I do with my life

I am faced with the decision to persue a career in either my liberal arts college or maybe pharmacology and toxicology. The latter is a pre-proffessional school and would be a shoe in for jobs when I graduate. But liberal arts its what I am best at and find recreational, yet I would possibly have to go to more school and prolong my schooling eventually. I enjoy pharmacology especially recently, and I enjoy working with psychiatric drugs or something like it. I just don't know what to do. Pharm would be going against my credo to wing it but maybe that's not a good idea this time? Any thoughts?

My Concious Squall

I am thinking right now therefore I am. I guess. My ideas of my conciousness are easiest (but not easily) explained by the thought of my conciousness as a basketball or any ball for that matter. In this basketball there is my immediate sensory intake. What I can see. What it feels like to be typing now. Pretty simple basic stuff. But when I write these sentences I am taking in thoughts, ideas, and letters from an area outside the basketball. Maybe like a card catalog somewhere. So there is a basketball balancing on a card catalog of stored memories of all sorts. So that I think is pretty graspable, what is especially confusing, on the other hand is where this basketball card-catalog combo is located. I think it is in a "brilary" which is a libray that we are not familiar with. One where the books are all thrown all over the place, where the covers of the books are in the middle, and the words are put down in no order just randomly placed around. Everyone has access to this "brilary" it is a public "brilary". I guess its more like we are all encompassed by the damn thing. The only time we have access to this disorderly is when we roll off the card catalog and let the air out of our basketballs, like sleeping, or peyote binges, or fasting, or not sleeping for that matter. I am pretty sure that eventually the basket ball will just explode from overuse (death) and we will be free to float around the "brilary" grazing on our fantasies. I am going to retire unto my bed and dream my self into my "brilary". hehehehehehehehehehheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheh

I'm in muthas

Hey ya. I made it in. I'm probably the craziest mutha in here. I am going to twist it up wevery which way from sunday. In reply to rob's New orleans Post... I want to go so bad but I'll need some dates or something. I would probably drive from here. The Delta has been in my dreams lately, seriously, The South is calling me. Isn't there something in Moab that month as well. I probably couldn't swing both. I think I would prefer NO at this point. pece out.

I'm tired

In small doses can you physically feel your life escaping your body? Is it possible that smog and congestion and a pervading aura of malcontent can lift apirations from your pocket? The lights in this city are fed by the souls of its inhabitants much in the same manner that drug addicts feed the very source that afflicts them. Can you drown in set concrete? Maybe. You can definately suffocate.

New Orleans Jazz Festival

Anyone looking for a vacation should think about joining me in New Orleans at the end of April.

www.nojazzfest.com

I've never been to new orleans, although i have slept with a few Big Easy's. clever but not funny.

People say it is the time to go to N.O., rowdy, tons of music but not quite as depraved as mardi gras. The line-up is unbelievable. There are two weekends of it (april 22-24 or april 28-may 1), so here's the debate. weekend 1 has The Roots and the original Meters Reunion and Dr. John...while weekend 2 has BB King (thursday) widespread panic, DMB, Jack Johnson, Toots and the Maytals, Dirty Dozen Brass Band, Galactic, Neville Brothers, Isaac Hayes, Trey Anastasio, Michael Franti and Spearhead, Karl Denson's Tiny Universe......damn thats a lot of good bands. damn damn damn. but the original meters reunion.....damn damn damn. i am stuck. and i need to book flights and hotel rooms pretty soon i guess.

my one friend that has committed is leaning towards weekend 1...we're pretty obsessed with the meters and there's tons of random music to see that would be fun. I'll be booking flights by the end of the week, so if anyone is interested and has a weekend preference, let me know soon.

Blogsplosion

"A fool who thinks he is a fool is for that very reason a wise man. The fool who thinks that he is wise is called a fool indeed." I think that I am wise.



more email addresses for joe hio:
lizrinaldi@aol.com
kerry.machnica@zurichna.com
onthepa@yahoo.com (ryan)

Rob's inner ear

Took pot for the first time since New Years last night. Kick ass. Bored like a monkey without a smycho today at work. New York smells like Rob's inner ear.
Here are some email addresses for you Roberto:
Bryan cournoyer@sbcglobal.net
Jake cournoyer@wisc.edu
Kate kweisen@du.edu

Taking suggestions on my blogger screen name, winner will receive a bronzed toe nail.

succass

ahhh good to see this is coming together.

est. turnaround time from when i decided to do it to when i actually sent out invitations: one month

today's rob update: yesterday i didnt eat any meat
although i slipped a special lady the meat
so i'm still a man, right?
I do feel strangely focused, although i could also attribute that to yesterday's lessened crack rock intake.


I missed the invites on a lot of people, lacking e-mail addresses. I need Molly's, Jakes, Brian, Kerry, and kate.
especially jake. he has a terriffic ass.

Hey Rob

What's you're email address and did you send an invite to Kate, Bryan, or Adam?

Is there anybody in here?

Just nod if you can hear me. Can you show me where it hurts. There is no pain you are recieving. The distance ships look on the horizon. You are only coming through in words. You're lips move but I can't hear what you're saying. And so on.