feel good hit of the summer
I am sitting in an office waiting to leave so I can go on a hike before the sun goes down. It is mild and clear outside. A rarity for the los angeles metropolitan region. A short conversation via instant messenger with an old friend catches me up on whats new with that other world that my old friends reside in. Meanwhile, all I can do is look out the propped-open door of this 40-foot office trailer and wait for phillippe.
Last night I made a joke in conversation. Someone said to someone else, "Have you seen that new Intel commercial? It's pretty cool..."
I hadn't seen the commercial in question, but regardless of that I interjected with a bit of bullshit to keep everyone on their toes. "Oh yeah, that one where they club the shit out of a baby seal!"
For a brief moment, I had them fooled. And because my friends are twisted like me, after they found that I was a dirty liar they expressed both fond wishes and artistic jealousy that corporate america might in fact be capable of being that edgy.
I rolled into the office this morning around 10:15 and after checking e-mails, I did a google image search for "Clubbing Baby Seals".
I very quickly found myself ashamed to be human - possessed by a profound grief and sympathy for some long dead being. Not because the victim was cute and cuddly. Not because its assailant showed the mechanical grace of a well-practiced asassin. I was quietly enraged, comfortably looking at this flatscreen joy-box of mine, because the victim was doing all he could in a futile effort to not get killed.
This was a sentient being. Maybe not as high and mighty as those who are intelligent enough to design the hydrogen-bomb, jerk off to internet porn, and waste away in some life-sucking job, but they still know that they don't want to get hit with that big-ass stick, dig? And that is pretty god-damned sad if you ask me.
Fuck this guy, whoever he is. I hope him and his boss and the owner of whatever company they work for all get jacked in the back of the head with a mallet and left to bleed for a while. Maybe thats all they need. Don't kill 'em. Just let 'em lay there for a while and bleed.
Last night I made a joke in conversation. Someone said to someone else, "Have you seen that new Intel commercial? It's pretty cool..."
I hadn't seen the commercial in question, but regardless of that I interjected with a bit of bullshit to keep everyone on their toes. "Oh yeah, that one where they club the shit out of a baby seal!"
For a brief moment, I had them fooled. And because my friends are twisted like me, after they found that I was a dirty liar they expressed both fond wishes and artistic jealousy that corporate america might in fact be capable of being that edgy.
I rolled into the office this morning around 10:15 and after checking e-mails, I did a google image search for "Clubbing Baby Seals".
I very quickly found myself ashamed to be human - possessed by a profound grief and sympathy for some long dead being. Not because the victim was cute and cuddly. Not because its assailant showed the mechanical grace of a well-practiced asassin. I was quietly enraged, comfortably looking at this flatscreen joy-box of mine, because the victim was doing all he could in a futile effort to not get killed.
This was a sentient being. Maybe not as high and mighty as those who are intelligent enough to design the hydrogen-bomb, jerk off to internet porn, and waste away in some life-sucking job, but they still know that they don't want to get hit with that big-ass stick, dig? And that is pretty god-damned sad if you ask me.
Fuck this guy, whoever he is. I hope him and his boss and the owner of whatever company they work for all get jacked in the back of the head with a mallet and left to bleed for a while. Maybe thats all they need. Don't kill 'em. Just let 'em lay there for a while and bleed.
posted by Unknown at
3/31/2005 04:57:00 PM
2 Comments:
stumbled across yer blog, this time while dicking around in garageband.
my initial goal, to encounter random audio until jarred by something wonderful, was thwarted by the devilish wraith of Squalor Studios (this time successfully managing to kill all audio...that fucker!). finding myself frustrated at my inability to make audio happen, and nauseous from the dose of ionic copper i'd gulped down to purge crap from my system, i unwittingly set myself up. personifying a fool, i overoptimistically clicked on the link under yer picture and eagerly awaited what wisdom you had to share...
now...
i am sitting here disturbed and a bit dazed as i struggle to choke back the vomit that is desperately trying to esacape as it threatens to erupt from my stomach and flow down my front.
i think i'll go to bed now.
-l
Yes M. Feel the hatred. I suggest you investigate the the lure of misanthropy.
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