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>>> The Big Holy Shit+5=9/15/02: I'm still getting spammed by many capitalist bastards. I've finished one project, and the top secret colloraberative project is done, if you want to see either of them, email me. I'm too busy to bother with uploading and organizing. I've got space on the keenspace (bassically geocities/mp3.com for webcomics) but I've yet to bother with their half-assed upload/design/management system. Everything later. Right now, I've got "return of the ninja" (unavailable on imdb, oh yea!) to watch, mind-blowing Burt Freeman story-lines to play out (I'll be working on them when I have to time, so you can look farword to them) a stolen road sign to clean off, and a music video to make. The Website changearound is still going to go off, but it will still take a while.

Freestanding nude media's official position of what else:

Terrorists win.
security is being clamped down. places are being evacuatated @ the smallest mention of the word bomb. gas prices soar, gouging begins, everyone is paraniod, turning against people not guilty. Blaming starts, racism finds a better target, Bush speaks in emotionless clishes and makes empty promices, summarily blows chance to be great. Cover aim for catchy slogans hoping to be the cover remembered in the history books (best one though, San Fran somethingorother:"Bastards!" you might have seen it) Politicians are leading instead of leaders leading, people are willing to give up all thier freedoms for a fleeting hint @ protection.
Terrorists win.
America is changed for ever into a democracy of paranoid hostile fools tuning in to 24 hour a day news, staring at psychadelically repeating images of history, replayed into emotional numbness, a head shot to america's collective logical reasoning system blasting all sence of logic and any hope of dealing rationally with psychotic patriotism, silly analogies and total disregard of any sence of the future or past.
Terrorists win.
Everyone stares directly into the flames untill they can see the blood flowing in thier own eyes, ignoring the fact that it's not the story that is important, it is the story around the story, the scenery behid the photographer that is what needs the attention. off-beat atonal whistling in the dark while shooting our friends, hoping to prove that we are so tough we're willing to slice off our freedoms to smite our foes. I don't own enough photo-Ids to even walk the streets in New New York. Terrorists win.
Craziness is afoot+history hasn't even started narrating proper yet.

>>> The scoop as of August 30: Still writing. After thoughtful consiteration, I've decided that the entire freestanding nude media internet presence (everything) is going to be hardcore reworkified. The website still represents me, but not as much as it could/should, therefore, It's going to be scrapped in favor of a stupendous new webpage (This one is pretty cobbled together, what with the art section mutation, RRB-to-article change, and general lack of music created in the last year on the music page). Don't hold your breath though. It will take quite some time to get the hosting deal in place, bandwidth secured, servers, scripts, etc. The new website will probably take nearly a year to get everything pinned down securely, but will adequetly represent me and Freestanding Nude Media, as opposed to this site, which just represents me. I'm going to stick with this site in the meanwhile.

>>> So I lied: Ok, tought, don't bother me, I'm writing, dig? When it's done, you can see it. All of it, even the super top-secret advanced project that will rock your mind that is a combination of six highly trained minds! So, in conclusion, I'm working on too many things right now to be bothered with doing updates. If you hear from me at all, it will probably be on metafilter (too lazy to link) or something like that, and then only when I'm taking a break. Until further notice, just assume I'm dead.

One more thing, instead of sorry-ass cdnow.com, check www.cheap-cds.com.

>>>8/12/01 Late: It could be that my taste in entertainment stopped maturing when I hit puberty, or it could be that I've been observed for my television viewing, but it's probably that Samurai Jack is a damn cool show! I want a freaking Samurai Jack T-shirt! It's even better than the Powerpuff girls! That's not all, The Fabulous Thunderbirds (The action show done entirely with puppets, not the blues/rock band) was on Turner Classic Movies. Now that I look like a complete moron and all my respectability is gone, I can safely say that I haven't gotten anything done. I've got more recollections of counselordom, but I've got to type the first page up or none of it will make sence (although it probably won't make much sence anyway. It didn't really make sence as I was living it). I'm also working on other things, but since the more people I tell about what I'm working on the less chance it has of getting done, I'm going to keep all my projects top-secret untill after they're done and ready to be unleashed. So, yes, that makes this a useless and pointless update, and that makes me uneasy and unhappy, you must be pleased damnit! I'm just not doing a proper job of pleasing. In penance for making an update that sounds like something you would read on a crappy geocities weblog (wait a second...) I'm going to give you 5 breakbeats. 1,2,3,4,5. Next time I'll have something that doesn't suck. I promice...

The Silent Majority should be ignored! If everything that's said about them is true, then there are more of them than us! That means that even though they have us outnumbered, they still don't have the balls the stand up for themselves! Dishonorable swine! They don't deserve anything if they won't fight for it!

>>>Jo-Jo, the undestructable samurai ninja slothmonkey

>>>Delayed update originally for:8/6/01 10:16 PM est: Now that cafepress has gotten it's shit together, I've (I'm doing right now, so by the time you read this it will be done) uploaded all the designs for the freestanding nude media page, so go buy crap and advertise for me. Today is also the official birthday of Sell your Children in to Slavery. It's not fully up and running yet. SCS would require more work and effort to properly get started than I'm going to have in the forseeable future, but it will happen, oh yes. Until SCS is fully up-and-running, you can instead get T-shirts and stuff in the SCS spirit here. What is SCS though?

Hey, I'm so glad you asked!

The purpose of SCS is to shock people into thinking on thier own by useing guerilla methods. With so much culture being mass-produced and so on, blah blah blah. You should already know the problem. Even the counterculture is sold to the highest bidder. Book burning will come from the people and special intrest groups. Etc. This is a vague description, it will become more focused later when I can put more work into it. Visit the cafepress page for more vague ideas of what SCS is. As soon as I can I will form it into a coheasive unified movement, but untill it really congeals, SCS will only be vague ideas.

>>>8/4/01 9:06 PM est: Woah! Big changes @ cafepress, but instead of bad Mp3.com changes, cafepress makes good pleasent chages. Go thee to the freestanding nude media cafepress page and buy all sorts of new! new! new! stuff that I spent all day today perfecting. Get hats, T-shirts, boxers, and other cool things! Go there now. Yes, there are a few problems with uploads, so several designs are missing. Tomorrow, if everything is working properly, not only will I finish up all the freestanding nude media stuffs, but I'll also unveil mind-boggling thought-provoking SCS designs. If the new designs don't make you happy, this will. See, that proves I love you. So there.

>>>8/4/01 10:XX AM est: Time to tell (part of) the tale...

I'm not going to talk about how inept the management of the camp is. I'm not going to talk about the rumers that the director is an alcoholic who slept her way to the top. I might later. I'm here to talk about being a camp counselor. My actual job description, what I was getting paid for, was to be a CIT, counselor in training. A beginner. So, as a beginner, I decide to start small. First night, after having dinner @ 11:00, my counselor I would be working for, a few unit leaders, and I retreated into a suite in a nondescript hallway in the dorms. They had a TV and a VCR, and had LA Confidential playing. A case of beers was brought out. Never one to refuse free refreshment, I had one. It was a place of relaxation, Gautama's garden, a place of peace and serinity. My legs were killing me from having searched around the campus. I coulden't relax with the pain in my feet and legs (birkenstocks, no matter what they say, are NOT for walking.) so I decided to kill the pain. I had another beer, this time not because they were free, or because I was thirsty, but because I need some numbness. So I had another. One more and the case was empty. The counselor I would be working with was commically shitfaced @ this point, being a typical loud funny drunk. I was feeling a bout tipsy, but that didn't stop me from trying a bottle of peach ale, pub style lager and dry ale from the Fox's case of assorted girly beers. Another unit leader came in with another case of beers and a pipe, probably containing marijuana, maybe not. I was fine after the half-dozen-or-so beers, but the several ale's shoved me down the ass end of the bell curve. Sliding down the edge I was soon a bumbling drunkard, sliding from the drivers seat to lie down in the passenger seat and kick the steering wheel. Time fractured, skipped, and danced around my head like anorexic gymnastic fairies shouting bad Shakespearian quotes. All the world is a stage and I was the marionette with rubber strings.
"Fox! man...you need to drink in moderation. You are a pitiful specimen. You shoulden't get this blasted. People intrust thier children to us. Having said that..."
I began to laugh and got up, swayed, and got another beer. I stumbled over to the table and had another hit from the pipe, at what point I stumbled and nearly dumped the pipe's contence on the rug. Saving the drug, I burnt my hand, hallucinating at it worriedly, the pain disconnected itself from my hand, and hovered nearby, waiting for me to leave Gautama's garden. Damn Tigers.
Last precice memory I had was standing ancle deep in water in the bathroom, staring at the crazy man in mirror, telling him he was one "messed up motherfucker, a pitiful specimen." I somehow woke up in a locked room, reserved for one of the kids I would be taking care of. I spent that morning wondering where my sunglasses were. That afternoon, nature entrusted me with several people's children's and a hangover. That was the first night...

There is actually more to the above story, before and after, and missing details. Above is the foolish tale of discrace, but there's more to it, from a sociological point of view. When you have people who are under constant stress 24 hours a day for 6 weeks, you get some bad craziness. Not quite masturbating into a cat's head craziness, but still pretty crazy. I might fill in all that was missed later, depending on time. With school starting, time is probably going to be at a premium. I've also tinkered with my archival system in an simple manner that makes me look better to uninformed visitors. Insert ending statement here, save and upload, possibly return later...

Want to know more? >>>more.