If I could be a caveman, my name would be Krug

I sent my resume in to the paper at Stony. I hope they like it. I've spent about the last week wading through old newspapers, etc. to find the best I have to offer.

Some friends of mine have been a little shocked to discover that I'm applying out of the city. I can understand why people who've moved here recently think this city isn't a bad city compared to other cities they've lived in, but if you've lived here all your life and grown up here, you'll understand why exactly it is that I want to leave. Combine that with the inherent issues I have with my family, and a lack of personal developments lately, and you'll find that I'm actually quite ready for a change of scenery.

Tommorrow is my grad ceremony from the journalism program. 7:30 in the morning, and they're making us dress up in the grad gowns. It's like high-school all over again, and come to think of it... it could have very well been.

The Storms come back again

The storms are back in the city. Yet this time it's different, there is no deluge, no clap of thunder. The smell is the same, but the feeling is different. Like a person who's forgotten why they're angry, the stormclouds swirl and tumult, but can't find a reason to unleash their fury.

In otherwords, there's some bigass clouds outside right now, but it's neither raining nor thundering. I'm curious why it can be pouring 5 minutes to the west of the city, and pouring five minutes to the east, and yet the city itself never sees more than 10 drops.

I'm feeling this though, it's like all the passion has gone out of the world. It must be the well adjusted lifestyle that kills the heart and feeds the brain to death.

In other news, I've started on a large batch of reviews for Nintopia. On the menu this time is WarioWare Inc., Pikmin, Pikmin 2, and possibly a review for Final Fantasy Tactics Advance.

I figured I might as well put some of my "professional" skill to work while I'm applying for jobs.

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Where were we before the internet?
Where were we before industry, before television, before radio, before some dipshit got up and said "Hey guys! Money equals happiness!" and the world went down burning?

Where were we before we discovered we could eat the cow, and not only could we eat it, but we could enjoy it by slicing it into different pieces, and charging premium on the muscles that were less used?

Where were we before we discovered that we could say just about anything, and provided there's a grain of truth in the absurdity, it would be eaten like grits?

Where were we before we discovered we could talk in sentences longer than five words, and whoever was listening wouldn't lose interest?

Where were we before we knew what causality was, and why it was broken?

It astonishes me how far we've come, and yet at the same time, it makes me realize that our progress has become a bent, boomerang shaped chart of progress. Instead of growing up, we've grown out, and all of our progress has come back to serve us in our basic wants, rather than expanding on itself and developing a higher sense of achievement. Instead of developing new means for transportation, all we do is build cars with bigger engines and flashier tail-lights. Instead of developing new spacecraft, we patent the technology and sell it in cars, beds, and even fishtanks.

The fact that I'm writing and pondering this is a testament to our society's decay on a creative and emotional basis. Despite so-called claims towards equality, we really have only taken our first baby-step on a journey to the moon, and already people are patting themselves on the back. Yes, it was difficult, but don't rest. Keep working. Racism, despite being repressed, still exists. A woman's role, while expanded, is still restricted by prejudices spanning back decades. Mental illness, despite new research, and new developments, is still a black hole in society, and even admitting to be in treatment is seen as a major failing for an individual... even if their illness is beyond their control.

Compassion, as I've seen it, seems to be selective... and usually involves an expectation of return. If you have nothing to offer, then it is a safe bet that many people will not hesitate to leave you by the wayside, given that they work hard for their inane existence, and can't be bothered to spare a minute for those who might be on harder times than themselves.

This, of course, excludes myself and many others, whom I look to for reassurance that there are some things in life beyond money, sex, and self-absorption. You all know who you are, and you all know what I talk about when I say that we've cut through the surface, and seen the ugly and sometimes beautiful guts of this world we live on.

We should keep on living, before somebody asks where we were before we knew anything.

How Close

Are you guys to Stony Plain?

There's a job opening at the weekly paper there, and I'm thinking about making the move up if they hire me.

Edit: Douche

Sold-Out Crowd

Writers block is one thing, but knowing exactly what you want to say, but not being able to find the words for it is torture. When did I become such a politician when it came to dancing around the truth? When did I start giving a fuck about what people thought of my feelings? When did people start giving a fuck about people like me? Well, that last one I can answer. They haven't.

Despite all the noble intentions, the higher callings, and the niceties, deep down, people are just in it for themselves. There is no other way to live in the world of today. Our culture has become a kind of passive-aggressive cutthroat kind of monster, fed by a clash between selfish conservatism, and overbearing socialist tendencies. We want to succeed, no matter what the cost, but the few of us who still have a shred of ethics left want to impose rules on everyone for the greater good, through force and law if need be.

I don't do the right thing because I've been told to, or because there's a rule or a law saying it's how it should be done. I do it because I want to. Because I choose to. Everything I've done in my life has been done through choices. I've made some bad choices, yes. That's human. But when does a series of bad choices become so bad that they become a different path entirely, a path where the previously bad choices become good ones? Where harming others, destroying an already existing order, and raising one's status in the ensuing chaos are considered worthy goals?

I've always spoken my mind, but what people hear and what I say often depart from one another for opposite horizons. When I say that I live for myself, people interpret that as a selfish, self-serving goal. Not bothering to look beyond the face value of what I say can be a great injustice. In reality, when I say I live for myself, I live for my ideals, and my enrichment. Really, when you think about it, what else is there to live for? Money? Sex? Power? All these things are completely temporal and subject to the whims and history.

When people look back on me, I don't want them to see me as a prudent businessman, or a self-righteous politico. I dont' want them to see me as the misfit kid of two parents who wanted another engineer in the family. I don't want them to see a skinny man with no particular strengths or talents.

I want them to see me for the me I am, not the me that others have interpreted and extrapolated from their own divergent experiences.

I still have trouble telling people who I am, and what I do. I am somebody that doesn't matter, and I don't do anything worth noting.

Looking for Work

I'm tired of you being tired of me.

So I'm going to look for a job. I don't know for how long, and I don't know for how much, but I could really use the money.

We all could really use the money.

Mission Implausible

I went to see MI:III with some friends of mine tonight. It was... a minor catastrophe.

The company that joined me was great, but the film... it left me wondering why I wasted $10 and 2 hours of my life. The story was weak, there were a few continuity errors, and the time format (middle, beginning, middle, end) left me bored by the time the last half of the movie rolled around. The character development was... well, Tom Cruise. The rest were mostly forgettable lackeys. Even the main villain was anemic, literally what happens when a sadist pig becomes too powerful.

I couldn't really feel moved by this movie. It wasn't clever like Lucky Number Slevin. It wasn't gripping in its entirety like V for Vendetta. Basically, it felt like the sequel to Mission Impossible 2. And, as anyone knows, that isn't a good thing. My comrades felt the movie was worthy and good, but I must diverge from their opinion and say that almost any other movie in the theatres these days could surpass MI:III in all aspects, other than raw Tom Cruise coverage, for the women in the audience.

I'm off now to try and find something to fill the vacant space that's opened between my ears.

End of an Era

Tommorrow morning, I have to take my laptop back, as the lease is up on it.

I don't know if anyone really noticed over the last two years, but this laptop has been pretty much been my exclusive window into the internet, whether it be blogging, e-mailing, instant messaging, gaming, or sharing pictures, this has been my one-way street into the information super-highway, so to speak.

I'm going to be ordering a new one soon, and don't get me wrong, this thing is a piece of shit, but it just won't be the same. Memories, and all that. This college rental hunk of junk has been my landline for the last two years, and now it's going to be destined for the junkheap.

I don't normally worry about inanimate objects this much, but whatever. I'll miss my damned laptop if I want to.

Otherwise, until I get my new laptop, this will be my last post for a while.

Sorry, no pictures this time.