The World as a Fishbowl

actually it’s 3:16:52 AM

So while I’m on the topic, the other recurring disturbing theoretical thought is that we might all be fish. Not really fish, but like fish. Household fish, the type you dump into a fishbowl and watch for amusement. Except that the bowl is the Earth. I keep thinking there’s some really big giant out there looking at the Earth grinning at us thinking “Ooh, look at the little fishies!” Keeping us just for amusement. You know, now that I think about it, we’d be more akin to sea monkeys than goldfish. What the hell are sea monkeys, anyway?

My Fish Theory (a.k.a. My Reality Theory)

actually it’s 3:12:?? AM

Every time I start thinking about reality and what it really is I get caught up in the circularity of it all and my head starts spinning and I start looking like some character I can’t quite remember from a classically cheesy horror flick.

No, that’s not what I was trying to say. It’s late, forgive me. Whatever time my blog recorded, that ain’t it! I just don’t feel like waking up my fam to blog at 3 AM.

Anyhow, back to my fishy reality theory. I think that maybe I’m just a fish. A fish, not a person. This whole person thing is imagined. I’m a little fishie floating around somewhere, maybe in a pond, maybe in an ocean, maybe in a toilet bowl. And I’m dreaming. I’m dreaming that I’m a person. A person who plays and works and blogs senseless ramblings that may actually be the truth. And what about all the other peeplz? Peeplz like youz? You’re imagined, too. I, with my little fishie brain, imagined you. Eh?

But perhaps you imagined me? Perhaps you’re the little fish. You’re the little fish who imagined a person to blog the truth that you know back to you. Is it more palatable that way? Can you believe it now?

Or what if we’re both imagining? What if each “person” in the world is really a fish, and our society is the result of the collective imaginations of the fishie population? No, that’s far too complex. Sounds almost Matrix-like. Not for its complexity, but because there would surely be a major scientific flaw that would render such an idea impossible.

I ponder this theory on my really bad days. When things suck I try to find ways to convince myself that reality doesn’t really exist. That this is all a dream and I will wake up to my fish flakes or plankton or what not and just swim around and be happy. No deadlines, no cranky days, no worries about how the rest of my life is going to turn out.

Huh. It’d be highly ironic if I were really a fish, because I can’t swim.

=   ?   :   !

What? Exactly! Why can’t Netscape (and maybe even <gasp> Opera??) be nice and just equate my equal signs with colons? Whatever. At least it finally looks the way it’s supposed to. Well, except that the links don’t change color when you hover the mouse cursor over them. Still, better than that lame-O white page with the black background and no formatting before the fix. Uhhhhh-gly!

Sex-Crazed Monkeys

When I first discovered online news (back in the stone ages) the section with all the weird stories was my favorite. Where are those sections in the regular newspapers? I feel bad for all the poor little peeplz without internet access. Having to read boring depressing articles day after day. Bombings and market crashes and power outages. Why not read something that makes you laugh instead? Like today, I read a blurb about a sex-crazed chocolate-fueled monkey attacking girls and flirting with neighborhood pets. I tried to picture it but being an urban dweller all I could really come up with was a mental image of Homer Simpson’s helper monkey Mojo.

Speaking of monkeys. All of youz with Palm OS devices should check out eruptor.com‘s PortaMonkey. The little dude eats and poops and screws innocent bunnies. You can zap him, too, and not worry about PETA chaining themselves to your doorknob. Just click on the “wireless” link when you get there.

Advantages of Taxodermy

1. No meowing at 5 in the morning because they expect to be fed.
2. No chewing of crinkly plastic items in the middle of the night.
3. No barfing all over everything when they’re upset.
4. No cat hair all over your stuff.
5. No hiding of your most precious items.
6. No knocking over of whatever you’re drinking.

<yawn>

I’m on the first morning

I’m on the first morning of this blogging thing and already things are getting out of hand. I just spent my morning gym time redoing the layout for this thing. Is this the end? Am I going to waste away into nothing as a blogger? No, wait, I won’t waste away. I’ll balloon into a tub of lard doing this blogging thing. Blub blub blub.

You know what irks me? My DarkOrange font just isn’t the same shade of orange as the Blogger logo. No, make that, the Blogger logo just isn’t the same shade of orange as my DarkOrange font! Dammit. But at least they had the good sense to use orange.

Here I am, writing in

Here I am, writing in my new “Spring Fresh” blog. “Spring Fresh”? Why not “Fall Stink”? For some reason I’m having trouble typing the word “Spring”. It always comes out as “Sprint”. Must be all the whining I’ve been doing over their sub-par (sub-sub-par) system. Stoopid Sprint. Grrr… More on them later.