| Groundhog Day 2006 |
| I think directly concerning my doorbell. When, you sound that, it has gone? |
| Bennett Reinhard and T. Nimblewick |
| Have a comment? Please e-mail me or sign GuestBook. |
| 5-21-2003 It's been an exciting year and a half! I'm now well on my way to a cheap and pointless college education! Hurray for me! The biggest development for me is that I can now call myself a published author. To see what I wrote you can go the website of the people weird enough to publish it... here. It's called "Concentration" and my name is Bennett Reinhard (in case you didn't know). I'm putting some more stuff on the Stories page on this website, so the future looks... well... let's not think of the future. |
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| Over to Story and Poetry Pages |
| 5-23-2003 Okay, so now there are a total of six items on the stories page... enjoy, if you can. I've been thinking about adding a pictures page, and probably will right after I'm done typing this. Why? Because I'm just so bored that I would waste my time working on a website that no one will ever see. But, what the hell. I'm listening to some eels and feeling kinda funny, so I guess I'll just go with it and see what happens. |
| Over to the Picture Pages |
| Previous Updates: |
| 6-01-2003 It's a weird feeling- losing hope, losing innocence I guess. There once was a time when I would stop to observe how a raindrop would hang slightly before dripping off the petal, but now I cut down the flower without a second thought (which is a terribly over-dramatic way of making a point, but humor me). In elementary school I had a friend named John Hill who used to call me "Bean" instead of "Ben." It annoyed me. Then John moved away and I was sad. Not that I've ever experieced a real emotion my entire life. I had a dream the other night where a bunch of kids I knew from high school somehow managed to steal the color of my eyes. How is it that life repeats itself? Are we so controlled by common genetics that we all feel the same in every situation? Why is it that everyone who reads this is going to say, "What the hell is he talking about?" But how am I to know what real emotion is? Sure, I feel things. I've felt desire so intense that it's made my skeleton try to rip its way out of my skin. But can I really know that that's what other people mean when they say "desire"? Is desire not just a reaction in certain parts of my brain that also cause the sensation of my skeleton ripping itself apart? Why do I pay attention to this chemical reaction? Why do I not just tell it to fuck off like I do everything else? Maybe desire is more important. Maybe nothing else matters except that gut-churning need, that logic defying sensation. I was lost without my eye color. I couldn't feel anything without it. I felt trapped, liked the animals at the zoo. I wanted death, but couldn't accept it without my eyes. I don't think I have any friends anymore. It's strange. I get along with everybody but can't seem to open up to anybody. I have many acquaintances, but whenever it comes to some sort of lasting friendship I somehow manage to screw it all up. Social retardation I suppose... but I'm sick of casual friendships. I'm sick of friendships of opportunity. I'm sick of being just another friend to the person who should consider me different. I'm sick of the grass that keeps growing, and the games that have always bored me, and the futility of a college education, and the mind-numbing confort of tv, and conservative politics destroying our lives, and people trying to convert me to some whack-o religion where everybody worships some dead guy who is only said to have existed because of some self-vindicating book of morals. Is this the sum of human existance? I thought that Zoos were joyous places. But now they only remind me of my cage. |
| Updates! Nothing... really... |
| 6-02-2003 To take my mind off my crappy life, I've decided to devote more time to this website. I'm going to try out all of the fun things the internet is so famous for, except for porn. First I plan to delve into a little freedom of speech. |
| I've been thinking of experimenting with Flash, also. Maybe some cool webtoons. Or... mediocre webtoons. Okay, just a couple of blobs moving around. It'll keep idiots entertained for hours. But I'll most likely just end up lying in bed for the next three months. Anyway... shit. There are so many words I can't say nowadays due to bad memories. Um... just come back later. Much later, probably. |
| Guest number: |
| 6-19-2003 There's a monster beneath my desk. I can see him, and he sees me. I know he sees me because he is shivering. Quivering. He's afraid of my toes. He's afraid of nail fungus and warts. Bacterial infections and gout. As long as I keep my feet down there, he will not venture any closer. But as soon as I take them away, he will escape. He wants to eat the skin between my fingers. He wants to drink eyeball fluid and make a nest in my hair. He wants to lay eggs in my tastebuds and play music on my teeth. I've named him Minimozart. He just wants to be loved. |
| 04-27-2004 Watch the fireworks flashy show! As if I can tell you where to go- your toes clenched into the window sill. Don't fall asleep Jesus, we need you to pitch for the Brewers. You'd have more initiative in the morning if you'd stop smoking weed, but then your miracles would stop, too. If I use your name to launch my campaign, let's debate me. Cold, cold mountain waters bottled- Just for you! The special consideration of sanskrit CEOs gives you orthopedic shoes and you're ready for the nursing home. Don't believe a word of it, as you sit on the the window sill, warming your ovaries and drinking. Sincerely, T. Nimblewick |
| 5-04-2004 Ladies and gentlemen! I ask you what you see! Do you see beauty in nature? Do you see beauty in art? Is there dignity in tragedy? Is there dignity in your heart? I see a world where useless people marry and married people hear dramatic music and think it's for them. This thing isn't me, or am I just not here right now? Ask again later. I could talk about beauty and dignity all day long But, hell Lately, it really doesn't matter, does it? I've read that all before. I think I've seen it on tv, in the movies- my mind is made up of dirty jokes and smut. In this world, everyone is against you. Don't let paranoia get you down. -B.J.R. |
| It's the accepted size- this larger-than-life worm. He wants you to fight for for his cause so that he can claim victory over dirt. Of course, it has to happen, the passive pessimism predicts the fall of the sky. Nothing but fate survives under that weight- point "a" to "b" to "z". His car will never make it, the explosion rips away the steel and the rubber and the flesh. No, no... put him back in; the wounds are but words to the world. They don't care about the dead or the constant blood shed or the child with a finger in the socket. This world I live in is flinch or flee with everyone preaching or pleasuring themselves. Dreaded cynacism's not dead, I don't care what they said, they've never been right, not once. -T. Nimblewick |
| 07-06-2004 You want to know what's wrong with Independence Day? Thousands of people die one shiny morning and advertisers use it to sell cars, presidents use it to sell wars, and American people use it to sell their souls. Make sure you buy a "Liberty" and love the PATRIOT. Heh heh... it looks like Pat Riot. That's what happens when many molestors get angry. But there be terrorists in them thar hills! Bullshit. Terrorism is the squeeky toy of the government. They chew and they chew and they chew and it makes a lot of noise. How much longer will it take before we get so annoyed by the squeeking that we tear the toy away and spank the dog with a rolled-up newspaper. That's what I want to see on Independence Day- Cheney getting scolded for being naugthy. Instead we have bright fireworks in red white and blue. Iraqis have been celebrating independence for fifteen months now. Thousands dying? Well, they should have read the warning labels on the fireworks package. CAUTION: May cause foriegn powers to spontaneously invade your country. Precauci�n: Energ�as extranjeras de la causa de mayo de invadir su pa�s. Well, who are we to not provide the explosions if they want to get themselves killed? Suffering never made anybody mad. Anger never made anyone willing to hijack an airplane and fly it into a building. Reckless consumerism never made my respect for this country disappear. God bless America... Shit, I don't believe in God. |
| August, 2004 It's coming down to it. Think past the zealotry and the pagentry. Please. Look past the stupidity to see the stupidity. Look past the shell and see the arrogance... and be afraid of it. The world does not need a loose cannon in charge of power. Not here or North Korea. We need to end this cycle of suffering. And remove the fake wizard at the end of the yellow brick road. Please. -Ben |
| Pop up and look around... I thought I might, that is. Honestly, I'm only here because I linked this page to my Facebook and want it to be updated for when the masses (i.e. the six people on my friends list) wander over. Furtherly (it's my website, I can write as poorly as I want), I don't even like this place. It's dark and cramped. It's small and idiotic. I claim that T. Nimblewick is working on it with me. T. Nimblewick! As if I could ever get someone so talented to even speak to me. Currently I'm writing a story about the future... sort of. I mean, who isn't tired of some random idiot's tale of the craziness the furture holds. Hopefully, my story will have none of the kind of comedy you would see in a (insert former Saturday Night Live cast member name here) movie. If it does I may have to give up on writing altogether. Here's hopin'! ... Cornslaw is no place for a mighty warrior. |
| Nazis in an Italian park. Sheesh. |
| Possible grad schools (everything submitted, just waiting to hear): 1. Amherst (I'd like to live out east. There are just times when Wisconsin is not the place for a young liberal to live.) 2. Washington State (Seattle is pretty. I don't care what you rainnaysayers say.) 3. Maryland - College Park (also out east, but rather close to Washington D.C., what I refer to as "the ugly Washington.") 4. Columbia College Chicago (nice college, good program. Too close to Wisconsin.) 5. U of MN Twin Cities (would be strange to be back there, but also cheap.) 6. Penn State (meh, I had an extra set of transcripts.) I think my chances are decent for getting into at least one of these schools. There real problem will be whether they will give me some sort of financial aid. I'm poor, all of the sudden. Crazy how money can disappear when you aren't watching it. Legs? Yes, no? Discuss. So, I've been playing a lot of Mariokart: Double Dash lately. How do you feel about that? I think I have gotten pretty good at it. I could beat your mother, that's for sure. Should I list that on my resume? I can beat your mother? Speaking of resumes, I'll speak about my job situation (cheesy transition, I know). I've had a couple of interviews as a college graduate with a BA in English. One is at Younkers for the position of Shoe Stocker (number 2 I think) and the other was at a cleaning service. I hope to get both of them and never return from my pit of desperation. It smells in there. Really, it isn't pleasant. Both jobs pay somewhere just above minimum wage. Yup. |
| Low wages make Brother angry. |