By Nous

                       May 10, 2005

April 22, 6:30pm -- La Patita (Como Tu)

I'm driving, but I don't feel like I'm driving. I'm not outside my
body, that doesn't explain the sensation. Rather, I feel like my body
is not my body.  I'm watching myself do things, but I'm not really
taking part in any of it. But I guess that is 'outside my body.' So
I guess I done myself in.  Whatever.
At the same time this sensation is both confusing and delighting me,
I'm beginning to realize that everybody is driving like a maniac.
Whether it just so happens that today nobody can drive or this is
just something I have only noticed on this very warm Wednesday
afternoon, I can't be sure, but it's making me feel like I'm in
a dream.
Am I?  Once again, I can't be sure.
Of one thing I can be sure: ...Was that Cassie Christian I just saw?
Hm, now. Let's a-go. What! Cassie? Ah, yes. Now I remember. Haha.
Cassie Christian.
Typical blond, but I've always thought she was pretty nice. I met her
in tenth grade. And I'd seen her around College University a few times,
but it was always a little weird.
I saw her again today. I was standing outside of my class when I
realized I'd forgotten my pen, so I headed back out into the parking
lot which would have scalded my feet and everyone else's were Shoes a
concept of which we -- the human race -- had never heard. But indeed
we had heard of it, and had taken it up like some proverbial cross (a
very obscure Jesus Christ reference) and carried it to unnecessary
lengths.
Why are my shoes gay?
No, you tell me, since you're the one making the accusation. There is
absolutely nothing wrong with my shoes, and I'll tell you why. When I
wear shoes that don't bother me, that's good enough for me. They're not
uncomfortable. They're not bad at all. It's perspective, how one views
Shoes, and thus Life.
Maybe, if this were some Orwellian nightmare -- or Communist nation --
where everyone got the same little white shoes that, while not really
uncomfortable, made us all realize under what terrible conditions we
lived, I suppose I might pray for shoes better than mine. But that's
like what one does when he's starving. You know, thinking of the most
delicious dinner possible. Chicken and beef and mashed potatoes and a
little corn, some green beans and asparagus. And how the drink would
flow, but don't get me started on that. Et cetera.
But about Cassie.
Actually, when I first saw her about a week ago, I was kind of
surprised that she was going to a community college. I didn't really
think she was smart, but I always assumed she would have weird
connections.
Like Ruth Kelly. Although I'm not saying Ruth did have connections.
Maybe she really was that smart, and what does it matter anyway?
Perhaps Cassie decided that two years at a community college would be a
good idea and then she'd go from there. If so, I can expect not to see
her there next semester. I'm assuming, of course, that she didn't take
a year off as I did, but she might have. If so I'll see here there next
semester. Unless she dies or some other impossible scenario.
What I'm getting to is that suddenly everyone from high school is back
in my life, and it's kind of disturbing.  Was my one year hiatus from
Life simply an extended Summer Vacation.
"Welcome to your bigger high school!"
How odd. I thought this was going somewhere. I'm going to have to reel
my mind back in. Give me a minute.

7:00pm -- El Cotorro (Shatter)

Nah.
I went to Crazy Carnival Girl's house today. I took pictures of our
town and watched etc.
Hm, something's wrong with me.

That reminds me (not it doesn't). Remember Tiffany Teen? I'm sure
you've heard of her. If not, go to tiffanyteen.com for some info.
Softcore porn star. If you're extra interested, how about:

www.innocentdream.com/galleries_tif/29

You can switch '29' with any number really, but you know that already.
Anyway.
If you haven't heard, she's retiring. Or has retired already. I haven't
kept up with it too much. They found her nude pictures and stuff, and
she's getting married. Plus, they found out her real name. All of this
equals Retirement.
Her name is Robyn Bettany, sister of Paul Bettany, husband of Jennifer
Connelly, or so I've heard. I didn't really bother to check if any of
that was true. What I WANT to do, is perpetuate myth, if possible.  I
deliberately didn't check any of the facts.
Also, I'm wondering why I would write about this now considering I
heard about it a while back. Living in the past, Nous.

APRIL30, 5:13PM: El Belador

Tengo hambre y mi mama esta preparando un pollo delicioso. Pues,
no tengo hambre deberas, pero siente que no tengo fuerza.
"I have no strength in my bones."
Y eso es porque aller no me durmi.  Me quede despierto hasta las
cuatro de la manana. Me levante a las doce, creo. Ocho horas, pero
mi cuerpo le gusta levantarse en la mananita. Si no, siento que voy
a tener un dolor de cabeza, pero nunca lo tengo.
I am hungry and my mother is preparing a delicious chicken. Well,
I'm not really hungry, but I feel like I have no strength.
"No tengo fuerza en mis huesos."
And that's because I didn't sleep. I stayed awake until four o'
clock in the morning. I woke up at twelve, I think. Eight hours,
but my body likes to wake up in the morning. If not, I feel like
I'm about to have a headache, but it never happens.

MAY6, 2:06pm -- Los Corridos

I started this rant, then finished two other rants separately and
updated them. Then I continued this rant. I feel like I'm bending
reality on some level, but of course, I'm not. For how could things
out of the ordinary ever happen? How could life not be exactly what
it is?  And even if my previous statements, stripped of irony, are
true, how could they ever be proved?
Here's how:  Record yourself saying "Dogs is Swan," and you'll see
that Reason has no place in the world. Why? Because no matter how
brilliant one's assertions about how Dogs is Swan are, and even if
those assertions are recorded using Sound Recorder, Cool Edit, or
even non-electronic media like a microcasette recorder, it doesn't
matter. Don't you realize that you're not saying Dogs is Swan at
all?
Everything you say has an in and out, a backward path and a forward
path, an up and down. Words are beyond two dimensions. They are
even beyond three dimensions. Because of this, brilliant reasoning
means nothing. Firstly, because we're in a three dimensional world
and we're using a media that has no real place in this dimension
(it will be underused or used as if it were a two dimensional thing).
Secondly, we have gone beyond subjectivity and objectivity.
Things can be true ... momentarily, and other things false ... to
most.
The concepts of true and false are not necessarily outmoded, but they
are at best terms to explain the world around us. Most concepts are
attempts at categorization. Human actions and ways of thinking can be
categorized and explained using sexual language or psychological
jargon. Remember Freud?
But the human mind and spirit are also capable of the extraordinary,
and often, the unexplainable. The mind/spirit goes beyond science
an psychology, though both may explain its most base of functions.
The MindSpirit is capable of things that we have not yet even begun
to ponder; it is capable of actions and processes we have only begun
to uncover; it is capable of things about which we have been surprised
to learn.
Take the field of the subconscious which we are constantly evaluating
and re-evaluating. Take imagination, which is such a powerful driving
force for mankind.  Take anything in the world and it can probably
be categorized. But only by certain physical and extra-physical
features. Categorization does not explain anything at all, really.
It is a way to stop disorder.

MAY10, 9:47am -- Because I Love You

She sat in her cream white couch in her white dress and wondered
as much as retorted, "How could I fall in love with a common
gambler?"
All right, Miss Rogers, you've started my mind a-moving, and I
can't stop it. There are two things I believe that color the way
I see the world. Having read Raptor Red by Robert T. Bakker, which
is a really cool book of life seen through a Utahraptor's eyes, I
can't help but categorize most human behavior into a very basic
animal instinct. Categorization, after all and as I've mentioned,
can really do only that. There are a variety of other factors that
go into play with any human behavior.
But "Love." Come now, we feel comfortable and even sexually drawn
to certain people because of scents. Yes, I know, we've all heard
the pheremone stuff, but we don't seem to take it seriously. It's
become identified with perfumes, a cheap trick played on the public
by the businessmen behind Calvin Klein and whatnot. But it's real.
How do you think moths find each other? How do you think penguins
can be in a crowd of a hundred or more other penguins and still be
able to pick their mates out?
And what of the that strange bit of information that's become sort
of common knowledge, that girls tend to marry men who "smell" like
their fathers?  Love is scent; Scent is comfort.
At the same time, I'm a believer in past lives and have always
been, though I've only really considered the concept recently.
And I believe, if past lives are a reality, that there must be
some sort of love that stretches across time, so to speak. After
all, as I said, there is more to human behavior than animal
instinct.
For believing in scents and pheremones, some people would call
me a cold intellectual. For believing in past lives, others would
immediately judge me a brainless romantic. But I don't believe
in one or the other; I believe in them both.
Let us not forget Taylor Caldwell's preaching in Ceremony of the
Innocent. We are an animal with a spiritual side. Denying it will
not help us at all. Because even if all religion is bullshit, it
is a powerful force that will directly affect everyone at some
point. Sort of like the Internet, but let's not get started on
that.

10:07am -- The Girls Are Packing Heat

But speaking of Ceremony of the Innocent, let my mind sort of do
a free fall here. I've been reading a book called Erotic Innocence
about how the Western world has eroticized the child, and how this
is dangerous.
"I'm not the first to announce that both the child and modern
sexuality came into being only about two hundred years ago, but it
isn't often noted that, in the excitement of getting these two new
products on the market, they got mixed together. One somehow got
implanted in the other, and it shouldn't have happened. Despite the
loud official protestations about children's innocence, our
Victorian ancestors managed to make their concept of the erotic
depend on the child, just as their idea of the child was based on
their notions of sexual attraction."
For example: purity.
Apparently this image of the child as completely perfect, virgin,
undefiled, a pristine creature, has remained and we live with its
effects. The author, James Kincaid, tells us that we don't like to
hear about child molestation for the purpose of bringing the predators
to justice, but so that we can condemn the actions while allowing
the subject to come in the back door. Talking about it without
actually talking about it. The implications of this type of
behavior are sort of obvious. We want to think about this stuff.
It gives us pleasure.
Do we even question whether adults are attracted to children
anymore?
I agreed with the book's argument, but I forget why.
The point was that I noted only today that the main character of
Ceremony of the Innocent -- Emily Watson Porter -- was the very
image of innocence, basically a child in every way. Even though,
children are not innocent at all. They are conniving for the
most part, heartless little beasts. They crave attention. They
don't sit outside in the lawn reading Aristotle or daydreaming.
Well, I did.
Not the Aristotle thing. The point is no child is sexless, but
whether they enjoy sex should be considered and pondered over.
The weird part is that if you admit that, then there comes the
inevitable conclusion: some children do want and crave sex.

And with that, I leave you, you fucking bastards.