Friday

Could?

Could suddenly discovering who you really are be some sort of magical key to somehow unlocking the doors to, say, incredible talents or knowledge or some such?

Probably not, but it's worth some investigation.

---------
Holy shit. Happy 40th birthday mofo. You're a regular fucking Tiger Woods.

Jewblanasian. Filajewbro.

There's not a country club in the world that would have you.

Does this mean you'll get circumcized now? I know a good rabbi.

Say hi to your Afrojewpinomickwop daughter.

Sincerely,

- Whitey

Wednesday

Pick Your Own Cotton!

Because Rosa and I say, "nope!"

Sunday

Freshness at Forty


After 40 years, I'm kind of blown away that I am actually 40. On one hand people diss 40 (poor 40, boo-hoo-hoo) like it's some sort of goddamned plague or something. On the other hand, 40 has recently been proclaimed "the new 25." I still feel like I did when I was 17, by the way. Twenty-five is generally pretty crummy though. To even proclaim 40 the new 25 is pathetic. It only means we've, as a culture, dragged our insecurities and immaturity into the prime of our lives. That's just weak.

I am wiser I realize. More people want and trust my opinion on things and I am more often correct with them. And, I am perfectly comfortable with my candor and instincts surrounding said opinions (George W. Bush don't like black people). I am more cautious with some things, but that has much to do with having a child and a wife whom I adore like no one will ever understand. Surprisingly, I am more introspective. This is surprising given my introspective nature. But when necessary I can explore the depths of my psyche and personality and find happy, sincere and peaceful places in a context of a hugely fucked up world. I am more alive yet closer to a naturally occurring death. Death I do not fear.

The snob in me, the intellectually superior Ty, more often keeps his mouth shut and listens more; learning is a motherfucker if you allow it. Often I have nothing to say. Alas, I remain the same snob of old. When I was 18, I thought I knew everything and I was right. Now, at 40, I know a hell of a lot, but realize that what I want to know...the immense volume of the world's accumulated knowledge...is unattainable. That is unfortunate. But, it makes a lot of sense. Que sera.

I wonder if my IQ is still 150, but I'll never re-test.

I am the farthest from any god than I have ever been. I consider all religions to be the cults of human weakness. Politics are hilariously tragic (and cults of human greed). I realize that if given the choice, I probably wouldn't have children at this point. Needless to say, my child is the most important product of my measly life. She "gets it" already because I allow her to get it. We humans will destroy ourselves.

I love the arts. I am sometimes an artist. I surround myself with art and artists. Photography is history. Music is heaven.
Literature is genius. If anyone remembers me after I die, I hope it is for the clues I left behind in terms of snippets of writing, music, sounds, pictures, and seriously dumbfounding goofs I've pulled off (all employment should be considered performance art).

After 40 years, I am still amazed by just about everything. Most things are extraordinarily interesting, If allowed to be interesting. More and more, however, is just annoying. The noise is noisy. People are all that matter. Conversations are so important. Human connection is glorious. Observations are essential. Friendship is amazing. Happiness is possible, believe it or not. Love is fucking great. And, it's perfectly OK to be as miserable as you fucking want to be.

Oh, and most shit is pretty fucking hilarious if you think about it.

------
"After 35 years, I'm still amazed by everything. Nothing's entirely dull. Surprises still delight. People still matter and the art/science of conversation, observation, friendship and happiness is not dead."

-Ty Hardaway, 2000

Friday

That's Too Bad

From another friend:

"But, for the past 4 weeks, I've been going light on the weed. No wacky tabacky, no pulling tubes, no mangia the ganja, no fire in the hole (just writing it makes my bong water), and so on. It's not a total ban, but a reduction in herb. I did this because about 4 weeks ago I hit a deep and dark low. Plus, my entire family is stoned.

So, 4 weeks in, I have to say I feel LIKE ASS. I'm generally more boring, more bored, less hungry, and less enjoyable. Not that green green gold was such a huge part of my drug life, but I think the family history and propensity toward hippy jam music means that my body might process it slightly differently than other people.

I don't know. I don't have any answers. But I can say, it's been a rotten month inside my brain."

Yikes!

Which Came First?


Law Suit from Apple
-OR-
Bird flu from China

...just learned that my custom iPod just shipped from Shanghai. I hope they wash that stuff.

(Lyrics courtesy of Lenny Hoffman Enterprises)

3 to 40

I'm So Happy For You

From a good friend:

"So, for the past 4 weeks, I've been going light on the masturbation. No shakey-shakey, no two-handed, lubed-up butter churning, no big butts twisty McSpanky (just writing it makes my mouth water), and so on. It's not a total ban, but a reduction in skeet shooting I did this because about 4 weeks ago I hit a deep and dark low. Plus, my entire family is horny.

So, 4 weeks in, I have to say I feel GREAT. I'm generally more optimistic, more sanguin, less moody, and less snappy. Not that masturbation was such a huge part of my sex life, but I think the family history and propensity toward autoerotcism means that my body might process it slightly differently than other people.

I don't know. I don't have any answers. But I can say, it's been a good month inside my pants."

Yikes!

Beginning of the End?

Thursday

Arrogant

ar·ro·gant (arrow-gant)
adj.
Having or displaying a sense of overbearing self-worth or self-importance.
Marked by or arising from a feeling or assumption of one's superiority toward others: an arrogant contempt for the weak



Fuck you.

Sunday

05 Race War

There's still a couple of months left for the prophecy to come true. Remember New Orleans?

Here's more <--

Saturday

Binges


Day one is always fine, a little nervous, a little excited
Day two is always the best, relaxed, pumping the remnants, good burn
Day three begins the dying
Day four is death

Thursday

On MTNot


"I'm very flattered you like [my music] since I used a lot of tricks I learned from you, and you might not know it, but I made it with your mind in mind (which may explain why no one else seams to "get" it). One of those tricks is understanding the difference between mistakes and "mistakes." "Mistakes" are what the little man in your head are making. What I like about it is it gives me the (not altogether pleasant) Big Head feeling."

-BDW

Wednesday

Ever Read Licensing Agreements?

Included in Apple's iTunes 6.0:

THE APPLE SOFTWARE IS NOT INTENDED FOR USE IN THE OPERATION OF NUCLEAR FACILITIES, AIRCRAFT NAVIGATION OR COMMUNICATION SYSTEMS, AIR TRAFFIC CONTROL SYSTEMS, LIFE SUPPORT MACHINES OR OTHER EQUIPMENT IN WHICH THE FAILURE OF THE APPLE SOFTWARE COULD LEAD TO DEATH, PERSONAL INJURY, OR SEVERE PHYSICAL OR ENVIRONMENTAL DAMAGE.

Dang! I was gonna hack iTunes to run my nuclear power plant. WTF?!

Sunday

I Literally Tingled...


...when I read this today:

"One source involved in the investigation said Miller's [newly revealed] notes could help Fitzgerald show a long-running and orchestrated campaign to discredit Wilson, which could help form the basis for a conspiracy charge."

The C word. Conspiracy. Rove-Libby-Bush-Cheney. Conspiracy.

I'll pass out if the I word emerges: Impeach.

Oh, now I know the glee of the right during the Clinton blowjob scandal.

It's pretty delightful.

Wednesday

Two Days Ago...

...i decided that i was going bald; and, unrelated, vomited.

Saturday

What I Love

Autumn in the East

Autumn in the east
annual transition of spirits
one day life is miserable
sticky and hateful and unbearable

The magic of the moment
first a smell
a delicious hint of memories lost
for at least one year

Then one morning
maybe to take out the garbage
like walking into life itself
or at least the definition of fresh

And you remember
goddamn it is fucking great
to live - to be alive
it's like orgasm's fury

A nickel for your cliche