Call Me Nuts All You Want...Try It With A Scientist, Though...

Episode 102: Fact Far Stranger Than Fiction

Skitz, one of the household cats, simply won't leave me alone. I've often wondered what it is about cats that makes them so perceptive.

After doing a lot in the way of research (the reason I haven't been making my posts as of late) I've determined that fact is far stranger than fiction. When I was younger, I thought I knew everything. It's only now in my adulthood that I realize that I don't know jack. I've been listening to people's stories, reading over accounts, poring over videos and basically flooding my senses with gobs of material on things that haven't been explained.

I wonder if the world that we see, smell, touch, taste and hear is all that there is? I'm almost certain it can't be. I've experienced things that I couldn't explain or quantify and I've heard of things that can't be written off...unless you'd just rather not think of them because there's a belief system to protect.

Cats, on the other hand, seem to be perceptive to something. I'm still unsure as to what it is. I've watched Skitz, Isis and Izzy running around the house batting at what seems to be open air; nothing at all. Still, I have to wonder if they're seeing something that I'm simply just not seeing. I've seen plenty of stuff like that and none of it can be quantified properly.

Now, the new X-Files movie is coming out and, I'm going to go see this because I'd seen the first one in the theater but this one is the one I hope wraps up some loose ends. I guess it was in preparation for this movie (which I'll end up seeing a week from Friday due to work) that I decided to go on another one of my kicks to see just what I could find that isn't quantifiable or explainable but fascinating nonetheless. In that time, I've learned some basic numerology, heard stories of spiritual experiences of extreme athletes, the dirty dealings of The RAND Corporation, Daniel Sheehan's testimony of the Karen Silkwood case and his examination of UFO evidence...you name it, I've probably looked at it. Even then, there were things that I looked at and didn't fully believe. Why? Well, lots of reasons.

Chances are, if you have a story, you know what happened at the very base. You can figure out what was said in conversations, that you went from one place to another, that you ate something that day, etc. There are facts that can be rattled off the top and during a question and answer session, you should be able to provide at least most of the answers without seeming too hesitant. The story about the Athiest meeting an extraterrestrial who claims to be his guardian angel but didn't bother to ask him about the existence of God...I'm not too sure about that claim. I would have at least asked about His nature or how Divinity really works or what in the Bible did we as humankind royally fuck up. He never bothered answering one of these questions. He says the curiosity struck him but I see it didn't get the better of him or he couldn't be bothered to answer. He just seemed too hesitant to me.

Many others were able to come in and put it all on the table. Others played it a little close to the vest due to book sales. Others still...the story just didn't add up.

As a kid, I was always fascinated by the paranormal and the unexplained. How others never even became curious is something I think I'll never understand. I've been ripped from one place to the other. I've travelled through a fog I'm still not sure of. I've seen things I'd called "crazy" actually happen and through it all I still encounter skeptics and negativists. I like skeptics...I don't have any problem with them but the negativists have got to go. I've noticed that the negativists are hardly needed to be loud and noisy if what their claim of us being our own worst enemies are true. I wonder...if the claim is so true then what threat do we represent to anyone other than ourselves? According to one report (Journal of The Inquiring Skeptics of Upper New York Vol 1, Issue 7), the mere act of believing in UFOs "even though they aren't real" matters because "Devoting one's life to a fictitious belief is a terrible and unproductive waste of time and energy."

The paper itself begins without a good analysis of the UFO phenomena at all, simply makes mere mention of the Betty and Barney Hill case, dismisses it in a wave of opinion stated as fact and then spends much of it's time on two forms of lightning discovered in recent history (i.e. roughly the past 40 years.) I would dare say that this is not the work of a skeptic, it's the work of a negativist.

Already his own work crumbles under the weight of the burden of proof. Many of those who research UFOs work for a living and are not living on government subsidy, they're doing it on their own time and their focus is not simply limited to the world or even to that one subject but a universe of extreme possibility.

It is my opinion that the act of climbing to the top of a high slope and then sliding down it at high speed on nothing but a board is dangerous and unproductive but does it matter that others are doing it? No. Does it matter whether or not I do it myself? Yes. I have weighed the outcomes and have based my decision on it.

Unfortunately, the ability to stay on topic does nothing to devalue the research (which isn't even given mention much less critically analyzed.) A true skeptic would take the casework and put the cases point-by-point through analysis using the scientific method to the test. This brief piece of anecdotal work does nothing remotely resembling that.

Still, supposedly, I am my own worst enemy. I still continue to get paid at my job (oh no!) I still manage to eat, shower and take care of myself and my surroundings everyday (holy crap!) and I still...even to this day...maintain a healthy social life, internet radio show, a vast array of hobbies and I even find time to work out (the horror and humanity!) If that's what it means to be my own worst enemy then leave me to it. I'm perfectly happy with the harm I'm doing to myself.

Thank you...goodnight.

Deep Thought: I Can't Say That...But That Hasn't Stopped Me Yet

We remember what Dog The Bounty Hunter did. We also remember the full-frontal salvo that was delivered to him the moment the word (should I say N-word) got out. After seeing the news lately, I've vowed that I'm now more nauseated than I ever have been in my life.

I'm not nauseated because Dog got his show back. I still fully support that guy and his efforts to rid the streets of his community of the disease that's plaguing them. I still don't support his opportunist son. I still don't care what you think of me for that.

What I have to ask you is why? Why the double-standard here?

Granted, I don't publicly back any of the candidates on the ballot. I still think we should have a None of The Above option and I still say it's time for us as a nation to decide. Do we prosecute the crime for all or do we make it selective.

If we're going after that, why so selective?

After Kevin Smith wrote Jeff Anderson's "I'll be damned if he comes in and treats me like I'm some sort of porch monkey" line and Jeff's powerful utterance thereof or Quentin Tarantino's liberal scripting of the dreaded "N-Word" why are we not going after them? Why are we not going after all these rappers? Hell, why isn't anyone else losing their career?

Just recently, I've had to bear witness to Jesse Jackson's remarks about cutting Barack Obama's nuts off and then, one month later...he dropped the dreaded N-word. As I predicted, all he had to do was make an apology and all was well. Why hasn't the NAACP gone after him? Why have we not encouraged it?

George Carlin used the word on stage once and his audiences applauded him.

I could list the suspects involved for days but why, people? Why should I? Why should Dog Chapman have to nearly go door-to-door, state-to-state humbling himself before all of us when not one of these people ever have to? Are we seriously going to allow the careers of others to be built on this bullshit or go on as normal while he has to work his ass off to get his back on track and rebuild from there?

I'm sorry, but it just doesn't wash.

It seems the roles have reversed somewhere and reverse racism is still racism by any and all means. Don't tell me I can't say something because I'm a white man with a bald head...it doesn't make a shit to me what others may think of me. I'm not concerned with it. If you agree with me, great. If not, that's fine. If I'm suddenly your enemy over a word or two...Fuck You.

Consider this scene in Clerks II...read on the following and figure it out:

Randal Graves: Since when did porch monkey become a racial slur?

Dante Hicks: When ignorant racists started saying it a hundred years ago!

Randal Graves: Oh, bullshit! My grandmother used to call me a porch monkey all the time when
I was a kid because I'd sit on the porch and stare at my neighbors!

Dante Hicks: Despite the fact that your grandmother used it as a term of endearment for you, it's still a racial slur! It'd be like your grandmother calling you a little kike!

Randal Graves: Oh, it is not. My grandmother had the utmost respect for the Jewish community. When I was a kid she told me to always treat the Jewish kids well, or they'd put the sheeny curse on me.

Dante Hicks: What the fuck, man?

Randal Graves: What?

Dante Hicks: Sheeny's a racial slur, too!

Randal Graves: Oh, it is not.

Dante Hicks: Yes, it is!

Randal Graves: She never called any Jews 'sheeny', she just used to say sheeny curse a lot. It was cute!

Dante Hicks: It wasn't cute! It was racist!

Randal Graves: I disagree, man, she was just an old timer, that's the way people talked back then! It didn't mean they were racist... but my grandmother did refer to a broken beer bottle once as a nigger knife... you know, come to think of it, my grandmother was kind of a racist.

Dante Hicks: You think?

Randal Graves: Well, I still don't think porch monkey should be considered a racial term. I've always used it to describe lazy people, not lazy black people! I think if we really tried, we could re-claim porch monkey, and save it.

Dante Hicks: It can't be saved, Randal! The sole purpose of its creation, the only reason it exists in the first place, it to disparage an entire race! And even if it could be saved, you can't save it because you're not black!

Randal Graves: Well listen to you! Telling me I can't do something because of the color of my skin! You're the racist! I'm taking it back, you watch!

Say Hello To My Little Friends II: Meet The Robots

In my initial post about my little friends here, I just took a group photo of the newer five. Well with a little searching, five of the old crew decided to join in finally (that means I found 'em in a box under the bed. Let's meet and greet them one and all.

1. Hahli

The obvious Assassin of the group, Hahli sort of thinks of himself as a gargoyle. He's often perched somewhere, ready to spring into the air for some airstrikes. His targeting is the much lamented subject of enemy lore and, when out of ammo, he's not above doing the old tactic of dive, snatch, lift and drop. He's kind of a dark personality and tends to hide in the shadows. Most of the others think he's got too much of a flair for the dramatic but as Hahli likes to state to his defense, "It works. Deal with it."

2. Kongu

When you absolutely, positively, need something fucked up in the worst kinda way, accept no substitute. Kongu was build with twin cannons and an extremely intimidating fighting style...all-out, full-scale frontal assault of the merciless kind. Kongu has become legendary for his collateral damage that he causes. As Kongu has stated in response to the criticism of his tactics, "There is nothing terrifying about a dead motherfucker..."

3. Jaller

Jaller is, put simply, a thug. Jaller modified his cannon to resemble a pit bull, emulating rapper DMX. During fights, he's been known to blast "Where Da Hood At?" from his vocal speakers. Jaller has every song (bootleg and otherwise) from DMX's catalog and has even named his cannon pet Boomer. Once Boomer runs out of ammo, you'll catch the most brutal hacking and slashing of your life. Jaller's active matrix (his central processing unit) is quick to overheating, similar to human anger and once Jaller cuts loose...be somewhere else. True to his color, he is the firebrand of the group.


4. Hewkii

Hewkii redesigned his own mask after intercepting transmissions of the film Predator. While not exactly trained in stealth, his fighting ability and enemy elimination remain unmatched. Once he runs out of ammunition, you could get in a little closer but it's not recommended. As Hewkii has stated many times, "Hunters aren't born...they're made."

5. Nuparu

Nuparu never has the tactical advantage...he takes it. The only droid of the group to sport a shield, unless you fly or just blast everything within a ten-mile radius, you stay behind Nuparu. Always running every possible worst case scenario through his active matrix, Nuparu dares to go where all others fear to tread. The only weakness Nuparu has is that he never seems to watch his back. Through his record of all battles in military history, Nuparu has adopted the policy of never running away. When faced with danger, you can hear him shout an old Spartan battlecry as his shield is placed. "AHH OOOH!"

6. Nokama

If it's on land, Nokama can handle it. If it's in water, Nokama becomes the fiercest underwater warrior ever created. Nokama stands as one of the few with a supreme versatility in almost any terrain but he has the homefield advantage in any body of water. Chances are, if you've used the water to take refuge, you may have placed yourself in a very wet grave. Nokama's primary specialty is similar to that of a human neuroses. Nokama has developed an almost annoying tendency to give everyone the statistical probability of any and every situation...whether they want to hear it or not. Irritating data computation aside, Nokama still serves as a loyal and avid warrior and possesses a unique sonar capability.

7. Pohatu

Pohatu is the guy you want in your corner. In impossible situations, Pohatu comes through to save any of his teammates in trouble. Pohatu is almost always assigned to Nuparu to watch his back. Pohatu's claws have been known to make the difference in a teammate being unceremoniously disassembled by incoming fire and making it through a firefight. Pohatu also has the propensity for being the guy who has no "fear" and running headlong at any enemy with a long-range weapon. Pohatu is also known for being particularly hard to target due to his incredible speed.

8. Ona

If ever a mechanical being were ever accused of being out of time, Ona would be a likely candidate. Ona's view of long-range weapons is that they're clumsy and uncivilized. Ona's tactics are similar to feudal Japan's ancient Samurai but his speed and versatility suggest the training of the ninja. Ona fashioned two large blades that more resemble pirates' scimitars than katanas but the way Ona wields them resembles a blender. Unless you're a vegetable ready to become part of a salad, don't cross him. Though unconfirmed, rumor has it that Ona has collected the heads of many opposition leaders. His constant references to honor in battle lend some credence to the claims.

9 & 10. Rorzakh and Varzakh

Nearly inseparable Rorzakh (red, standing) and Varzakh (yellow, spider form) use their symbiosis to decieve, disrupt, dominate and destroy any and all opposition. Dubbed "The Twins" by the rest of the group, they act as such. The versatility factor on the Twins remain unmatched. Both can engage in combat standing bipedal or completely contort themselves into near-spider formation to enhance a sort of pseudo-psychological advantage. While each is a well-trained weapon of mass destruction in single combat, the two seem to optimize their skills when working together as one unit. A few on the team have stated that, in combat, these two have it down to an art.

Now that I am a completely confirmed nerd, I'm out to do laundry. Later!

Say Hello To My Little Friends...

LittleFriendz02
Originally uploaded by lordgenocyde

I've always found building shit to be relaxing. Especially when it involves a lot of parts. If it's one thing DJs do best, it's mixes and mashups. While I've done my share of remixing songs for my own amusement, I've also decided that mixing it up with plastic robots would work too. That's why Lego Bionicles were a pure Godsend. Not only could I enjoy one of my favorite activities but I could also entertain some mental things like maybe, just maybe all of these plastic warriors had their own personality.

I'd even used a few Bionicles in some pagan ceremonies after I'd learned that a very intuitive roommate used her dolls against me. I figured fighting fire with fire would work. No shit, those bastards came through in fine style and she eventually left after having had nightmares about them.

To me, the act of simply putting them together put parts of me into them with it. Right now, they all chill on top of my computer until the day that I find the other ones and begin putting them back together. Then...the army of them will emerge and I'll post more pics of them.

I know you're probably thinking that it's silly of a guy nearing 30 to play with toys but, let me ask you...when was the last time you really wanted to do something and thought, "Naw, I'm too grown up for that." Think about that for a second. Maybe you don't have that as a void in your life at all or maybe it's so small you don't even miss it but you're still incomplete at the end of the day. The way I see it, when you have robots that look this menacing and you hope to do stop-motion animation someday...having ready-made props comes in handy. Besides, there is absolutely nothing wrong with the stimulation of the imagination through objects. It's very entertaining and it's cleansing to sort of get it out of your system. Then again, if you must laugh or you must scoff, be my guest but know that I'm completely happy doing this and you, at day's end must endure that private pain of being incomplete.

Another Deep Thought

Star Wars is Total Bullshit and I can Prove It! Yoda would still have to press "1" for English...even in a galaxy far, far away.

I think that's why Star Trek did just as well and struck so many chords with so many Trekkies. No one had to press a damned thing for English. You had a white dude (incidentally Jewish), the Chinese guy, a Russian, a Scot named Scott, a black woman and an alien and every one of them spoke plain fucking english.

Seems Starfleet had their alien problem figured out. Maybe we should take a cue from them. Let's deport illegals...to fucking Mars someplace!

Lord Genocyde's Deep Thought of The Day

I was going through some old Ghost Rider comics over the weekend. I'd somehow stretched the shit out of my left trapezius and it was in agony. Not much else to do and then I realize how much of a blessing it actually was. I didn't have to get up off of my ass to do much and I learned some really fascinating things about motorcycles.

First, a tricked-out stuntbike goes pretty fast when the rider's skull is on fire and he's out to catch minions of Satan.

Second, a chopper or crotch rocket with wheels of fire have only two speeds; Instant Cure For Constipation and Fucking Stop.