The sound of a car alarm repeatedly set off by the guy coming down of oxy who keeps trying to get into his car and miserably failing.

We’re going to war with Iran. They’re only shooting for 35-40% public support. The big kickoff will be on September 11th.

…

*Shrug*

You know, one of the first things that was changed in Iraq after Saddam’s regime was toppled was the currency. Saddam’s image and other symbols were removed from all forms of legal tender. Then, after that was done, they started putting together a new government. The money had new symbols and faces on it, I’m not specifically sure which or who’s, respectively.

Take a look at a dollar bill. Yeah, I know you’ve done this before. But think about how more often than not, by far in fact, people simple see the dollar bill, the images and symbols, without being conscious of what they see, again and again, day in, day out. Anything our nervous systems percieve, in any form of signal, becomes integrated in some way to the nervous system itself.

All I’m saying is, wouldn’t it be nice if our money looked less cryptic, or if the faces of the people on the money weren’t all slave owners and freemasons? What if the twenty was changed to a portrait of kermit the frog? Wouldn’t that be nicer than Andrew Jackson? Didn’t he kill a ton of Seminole indians? Kermit wasn’t even real. Never caused any harm to anyone. Plus, he’s green, so he’d be perfect. I’m kidding, but seriously, our minds are the battlefield, you have got to remember that.

Its time for us to wake up and face our subconscious, collectively. We’ve been played like guitar strings for a long time, and there’s a lot of crap in the attic by now. It is time to dig up those bones and take a good hard look at them, because they are ours.

The honest book of truth isn’t dead yet. It was sleeping. Wake the fuck up!

Last night, while sipping on my $6 gin and tonic standing in a night club I had just paid $25 to get into, I felt compelled to text to google “define farce.” Later that evening, when I heard a techno song that sampled Martin Luther King’s “I Have a Dream” speech, I was compelled to text to google “define bastardization.” And even later that night, when a drunken hispanic girl told me I had a nice face, I felt good about myself.

What to say when you lack inspiration? What to do when you have feelings to express but you don’t know how for fear your words will be misinterpreted due to your outward appearance? When a person judges you from the moment they meet you, they turn you into the person they think you are; even if you are not. It is a frightening phenomenon. To feel misrepresented and powerless to do anything about it. Because if someone has already decided who you are, that’s all they’ll ever see. There is nothing more blinding to the truth than being sure of yourself.