Showing posts with label Josh Vish. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Josh Vish. Show all posts
Thursday, November 17, 2016
Tuesday, May 5, 2015
I have a briefcase now. Gentlemen, we have some business to attend to.
I have a briefcase now. Gentlemen, we have some business to attend to.
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| "What's inside?!" |
Friday, March 13, 2015
Vish!
"An artist is a person who performs certain things skillfully but doesn't really know how he does it."
"An artist is a person who performs certain things skillfully but doesn't really know how he does it. You learn art by methods that you don’t know how you learn."
VISH
short for vicious circle...
I hear an owl outside my bedroom window...
"Do you know a game called "Vish?" What you do is, everybody has a standard Webster's college dictionary, you sit round a table, and then there's a hat and you pull out, somebody pulls out a word, and everybody looks the word up, then they write down on a pad, the keywords and the definition of that word, then they start looking them up, and the first person who gets back to the original word calls out "Vish," short for "vicious circle" and he wins the round. And the referee, there's always a referee, he decides whether you worked fairly, whether you didn't take an illegitimate shortcut."
"The UnSpeakable World.
Unspeakable also means disreputable..."
"All such philosophers should play Vish. Each player is given a copy of the same dictionary. A referee draws a word from a hat, and immediately the players look it up, take a key word from the definition and look that up, and so on. The first player to get back to the original word calls out "Vish!" (vicious circle), and the referee checks his steps to be sure they are legitimate."
"churches are sexual regulation societies."
Talk:Vish_(game)
Vish (Game) -- "In the game of Vish (short for vicious circle), players compete to find circularity in dictionary definitions. Irish mathematician and physicist, John Lighton Synge, invented the multi-player, refereed game to emphasize the circular reasoning implicit in the defining process of any standard dictionary."
"All such philosophers should play Vish." - Alan Wilson Watts (In My Own Way: An Autobiography)
*ahem*
VISH!
"An artist is a person who performs certain things skillfully but doesn't really know how he does it. You learn art by methods that you don’t know how you learn."
VISH
short for vicious circle...
I hear an owl outside my bedroom window...
"Do you know a game called "Vish?" What you do is, everybody has a standard Webster's college dictionary, you sit round a table, and then there's a hat and you pull out, somebody pulls out a word, and everybody looks the word up, then they write down on a pad, the keywords and the definition of that word, then they start looking them up, and the first person who gets back to the original word calls out "Vish," short for "vicious circle" and he wins the round. And the referee, there's always a referee, he decides whether you worked fairly, whether you didn't take an illegitimate shortcut."
"The UnSpeakable World.
Unspeakable also means disreputable..."
"All such philosophers should play Vish. Each player is given a copy of the same dictionary. A referee draws a word from a hat, and immediately the players look it up, take a key word from the definition and look that up, and so on. The first player to get back to the original word calls out "Vish!" (vicious circle), and the referee checks his steps to be sure they are legitimate."
"churches are sexual regulation societies."
 |
| "Each player is given a copy of the same dictionary. A referee draws a word from a hat, and immediately the players look it up, take a key word from the definition and look that up, and so on. The first player to get back to the original word calls out "Vish!" (vicious circle), and the referee checks his steps to be sure they are legitimate." |
 |
| "meaning never enters into his game. All such philosophers should play Vish. Each player is given a copy of the same dictionary. A referee draws a word from a hat, and immediately the players look it up, take a key word from the definition and look that up, and so on. The first player to get back to the original word calls out "Vish!" (vicious circle), and the referee checks his steps to be sure they are legitimate." |
The Most Highly Skillful Art Of All
Talk:Vish_(game)
Vish (Game) -- "In the game of Vish (short for vicious circle), players compete to find circularity in dictionary definitions. Irish mathematician and physicist, John Lighton Synge, invented the multi-player, refereed game to emphasize the circular reasoning implicit in the defining process of any standard dictionary."
"All such philosophers should play Vish." - Alan Wilson Watts (In My Own Way: An Autobiography)
Learning The Human Game
VISH!
Saturday, January 31, 2015
Saturday, February 16, 2013
MOAR .GIFS!!!
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| Lul Jimmy Two-Shoes |
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| "Haha, what?" |
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| xcubes me, wtf ru doing? |
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| jackin 'it |
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| schmokin' it, jerkin' it |
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| BEARD RUB IN PROGRESS |
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| "The" Point |
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| Lick: Version 1 |
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| Lick: Version 2 |
 |
| Version 1 |
 |
| Version 2 |
 |
| Version 3 |
 |
| Version 4 |
 |
| fink fink fink |
 |
| nuzzles |
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
[Ready For The Next Step]
Dear Harley,
I'M COMIN' FOR YOU.
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| Click this picture, and then click Like. Do it, or I will eat you. I mean, I might eat you anyway, but clicking Like will bump you down the list. |
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| 7.22.12 UPDATE - AT LEAST 11 more, PLEASE. |
I have a few episodes written/outlined, and I'm working on a few more. Gonna try to shoot/edit/upload a "Vish-pilot" ASAP. The only thing I'm waiting for is my parents' visit. Once they've come and gone, unless I hear differently from Harley, I AM WALKING TO FUCKING CANADA. I've mapped it out. I know my fitness/capabilities and while it will be hard, IT WILL BE SO WORTH IT. And so goddamned Epic. Befitting of both the Vish name and the EpicMealTime brand. Should take a little less than a month.
Harley, while I would greatly appreciate the help getting up there (bike, motorcycle, car, airfare, piggyback, magical flying baconweave, the money for any of those, etc.) save your generosity til after I arrive. This is some crazy shit, everybody knows that, but when I pull it off it will reach proportions that can fittingly only be described as Epic. I can hear one or both of our voices now, "THIS NUTJOB WALKED OVER 600 MILES. ALL THE WAY FROM PENNSYLVANIA, THE CANADA OF AMERICA." Besides, yer gonna need all that youtube money to feed me, 'cause when I arrive, I'LL BE FUCKING STARVING.
Pretty much unless The Sauce Boss says otherwise, the plan is to spend some time with my parents and then secure my apartment until after I get back, whenever that may be. I'll need to pony up a couple of months of rent and of course a little money for food for the journey. I'll be packing EXTREMELY light. Probably just a single outfit and my phone along with money and a few toiletries. I'll record videoblogs along the way and post them here to keep everyone apprised of my progress. That way everyone can follow along from the comfort of their own homes.
My goal is in sight and I'm getting sick of waiting for Morenstein to pull the trigger. Stime to show some initiative.
Knowing me and my charm it would be all too easy to fund-raise for travel fare and or secure rides along the way, but that won't do. That's not Epic enough.
No no.
When I burst through that door, likely the leanest I've been in years, HUNGRY AS FUCK, barefoot and barechested, I'll scream at the top of my lungs "HARLEY. I'M HUNGRY." and the whole crew will look at me and know "That's a crazy motherfucker right there." CRAZY LIKE A FOX.
I'm tired of waiting for things to come to me. It's time to go for what I want. Vish-style. Zero fux given. BALLS DEEP.
GET AFTER IT.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
27 and 2012
I've been dreading this blog entry for close to a decade.
I knew it would one day come.
It's hard to believe it's finally here.
The beginning of what could very well be my last year on this earth.
1.1.2012
The first day of 2012. The first day of a new year.
I am 27, and it's 2012. OFFICIALLY. No take-backsies. For realsies.
When I was in my late teens, I prophesied my own death. Not in the serious manner that statement suggests, but in a far more serendipitous revelation that sent me down a spiral of mania culminating in my early 20s.
You ever ask yourself a question inside your head and then get a knee-jerk response from a "voice" within? The voice just being your inner thought, not a perceived separate entity.
You know, something like, what do I want to eat right now? And the next thought you have/hear is omelette with mushrooms, peppers and bacon.
Well, one day, in my youth, I randomly thought to myself "When will I die?" 27.
27.
Quick and unwavering. Knee-jerk. Instantaneous. 27, was the answer. "Well that's kinda freaky/unsettling..." I thought, followed by thinking, "Wonder how?" Car accident.
Car accident. The very next discernible bit of data was "car accident". No other possibilities listed. No lilting unsure tone. Smooth, definitive delivery. Car accident.
The damage done, I sat and thought and largely have done so ever since. I even used to have a countdown on a dry erase board much to the behest of a former flame.
That experience in and of itself is scary and threatens one with what I would categorize as "unhealthy" thoughts.
Couple that with the following information and learning it all for the first time en masse thanks to the internet and a voracious curiosity that has fueled me (and possibly defined my character) my entire life and you practically have a recipe for psychosis.
In an order that I don't care to remember I learned of 2012, and its significance to the Mayans, my best friend's self-predicted age of death (30, what he would be in 2012), The Age Of Aquarius, and the 27 Club.
Maya and 2012 - 13th b'ak'tun - End of the calendar. Misinterpreted as Armageddon. Meant to be taken as The End Of Time. A Mass Spiritual Awakening.
Age Of Aquarius - We're moving from the Age Of Pisces wherein we are the "fish" in "water". Human in life. Immersed in it. Powerless to affect its ebb and flow. In the Age Of Aquarius, we'll be the water-bearers. The Water won't control us or our lives, we'll control it.
27 Club - Many famous musicians and performers have signed off at this age and I fit right in with them. Eerily well.
In my early 20s I was dating a delightfully intelligent young asian girl. (I love asian girls.) She was South Korean (I love Japanese and South Korean girls) and quick as a whip. Her beautiful outside shell was merely icing on the cake compared the gorgeous brain/intellect she housed within. Her personality and wit pulled on me like a black hole and her ethnicity/beauty communicated The Fates were at work. They sealed the deal. It seemed "too good to be true". (It was.)
In certain ways, she enabled me. Unfortunately an intellect like mine is hard to contend with when it's set its sights on a goal.
My name is Joshua, I desire to help everyone, I get along with pretty much everyone I meet, remarkably wise despite my youth, surprisingly heartfelt compared to my pervasive silliness, a naturalist concerned with whole foods and sustainability, a fierce thinker with deep interest in The Eastern Ways, a psychonaut pioneering the farthest reaches of my mind with the aid of entheogens, I was born on Christmas Eve, I'm white, I have/enjoy beards, I don't wear shoes... She, I, and many others had all been led to the same conclusion: I was the Second Coming Of Christ.
Having one person tell you they think you might be Jesus after you've lightly theorized this independently is surreal and disconcerting. Having several people do this, several times a day, without provocation is a great way to schism from reality entirely.
I've always prided myself on Observing The Observer and Breaking The Fourth Wall, so after some pensive introspection and careful analysis of my overall character and past experiences, a new more terrifying theory surfaced: I was the Anti-Christ. Nowhere in the bible does it say that the Anti-Christ, WILLINGLY, MALEVOLENTLY brings about the end of mankind. It says simply that he will unite them and ultimately lead to their downfall. It seemed perfectly reasonable to me then that he may accomplish this without setting out to do so. What if he made an invention, or gave a speech, or something that led to everyone being connected and then once THAT occurred the new Collective fucked things up on its own? This quickly became incorporated into Theory 3.0: I, Josh Vish, am both the Second Coming Of The Christ and The Anti-Christ. It stood to reason that with my innate charisma and intelligence and my burning desire to connect with the entire planet that I could totally be responsible for uniting everyone. And even though it was in the name of Love, some sort of a horrible perversion of my ideals might occur leading to cataclysm.
I'd pretty much resolved myself to loserhood/obscurity. For the sake of the planet.
Then I came to realize that a good deed is a good deed is a good deed. Like the woman that dumped expensive amounts of anointing oil on Jesus. The people around said "Hey! She coulda sold that and bought food for kids or something!" "Yeah!" "Yeah!" They all said and all patted each other on the back. "She wasn't thinking right! She didn't do THE MOST good she could do!" And Jesus shut dem bitches up with, "She did was she thought was good, and that is enough."
BOOM.
That it came from her heart and was genuinely altruistic is what exonerates her of folly.
Here's this suave motherfucker, strollin' from town to town, wearin' sandals, havin' a beard, spittin' wisdom, healin' niggas, preachin', just bein' an all around badass and now he's in YOUR town. Show your appreciation/reverence. GO! And the first thing she could think of was to douse his ass in Anointing Oil. Good enough, the J Man said. Appreciated.
*Side note, Anointing Oil was made from Cannabis...
If you bought someone a pizza and then when they got home they were too full to eat the surprise steak someone else had prepared for them, are you a bad person because you indirectly contributed to them missing out on steak? Fuck no. Easy answer.
Shit. YOU DICK. How dare you buy me pizza?!?! What a thoughtless asshole! Did you ever think that maybe steak was waiting for me?! You're evil. This confirms it.
NO.
So why should I feel bad if my efforts to Unite The Planet In Harmony end with Apocalypse?
I won't.
I've since matured, and integrated my thoughts and experience into a pretty stable worldview.
I'm not Jesus. I'm not the Anti-Christ. I'm Josh Vish. Not-Quite-Jesus. Jesus-like, but not actually Jesus.
I've talked before about my belief in what is essentially a more positive slant on Solipsism. I believe I am talking to myself right now. I believe we (as in not just humans, but EVERYTHING) are all one "thing" (call it God, if you want, I do) that willfully split into all these separate parts for the sole purpose of fun. Yes, you read it, my model of spirituality, philosophy, science and religion is the Cosmos is the answer to Cosmic Boredom. Divine Bordeom. We Weren't and Now We Are. Simple as that. Time is a perception, not an absolute value and all things exist HERE, NOW. They just aren't available to humans and our limited perception. WHICH IS OKAY. THAT'S THE POINT. These meatsuits are blinders from infinity.
America, cheeseburgers, facebook, alcohol. It's all okay.
Anyhoo, while I no longer believe myself to be The Second Coming/The Anti-Christ, I still sometimes fear it. I have big plans to put into place this year and I'd be lying if I didn't profess being motivated by fear. Fear of Mortality and fear of The Unknown. I've never been one to be controlled by my fear, but fear is a tricky thing. On the physical plane, if something creates terror in me, I sprint at it. Literally. However in the intangible realm of thought and possibility it's not always so easy to choose your target.
I love movies. I love everything about them. I love stories, I love symbolism, I love photography, color, kinetics, dialogue, language, art, music, etc. And I especially love movies' ability to transcend time and space. To alleviate barriers and blur boundaries. Cinema unites us like nothing else can. Well, except maybe the Internet, but still. MILLIONS of people watch a single film and BAM! just like that, it's ingrained in the collective. Unconscious AND conscious. Like orators, books and comics before it, movies are the most successful expression of communicating to everyone at once.
For a long time now I've wanted to be a part of movies, and even have. I want even more involvement. I want it to be how I pay rent and afford food. (I AM HUNGRY.)
So in 2012, I will continue down that path, Acting, Writing, Directing, Filmmaking, and if my predictions are correct, as I gain more and more notoriety, and more influence, I'll be poised to spark ACTUAL change on this planet. Whether with my voice or a film or a book, etc.
So far, the only direct attempt at omnipresence that I'm endeavoring upon is a simple birthday wish. I'm going to make it a facebook event and everything. (That's how you know its SERIOUS BUSINESS.)
This year, for my 28th birthday and last day of being 27, 12.24.2012, I would like for EVERYONE, literally every single human being on the planet capable of thought, to stop and think and focus on LOVE. Oh and making the summer in Pittsburgh a little longer and the winter a little shorter. That last part is a selfish desire though.
So that means that at one point in time, the entire planet's population of humans will be united in an activity AND thinking of me. POWERFUL STUFF. I get my Ego stroked AND help the planet. WIN/WIN. And then, from there, if my fame dwindles to niche crowds instead of the entire planet, so be it. I will've accomplished my goal.
Hopefully 2013 will consist of spending time in Japan while continuing to make movies, smoke cannabis and lift weights.
I'm going to attempt to get to Japan in 2012 as well, but it will be from more of a tourist standpoint with the end goal of Uniting The Planet in mind. Afterward, in 2013, my time in Japan will focus SOLEY on Japan.
If I'm still alive and we're still here, in 2013 I'd like to be:
making movies for a living
lifting weights regularly
swimming routinely
practicing yoga
smoking cannabis whenever it tickles my fancy
furthering my research on entheogens
living in Japan for indefinite periods of time
on my way to connecting with my future wife
eating flesh and fresh fruits and vegetables every single day
Beyond 2013 -
Wife and kids.
Living in Japan and Western PA.
Making movies.
Doing standup.
Working out regularly.
Drawing.
Writing.
Experimenting with Farming.
Hunting.
Owning Land.
I have lots of goals and am fervently in love with the leapfrog pace of obtaining them and setting new ones. This is guaranteed to be a great year for me.
One last stitch of anxiety I'd like to address. The focus on my own mortality that 27 and 2012 have brought does not overwhelm me in the ways you might think it does. I don't care about death. I don't care about dying. It's no big deal. I'm not afraid of it. What I am afraid of is: not living. I'm afraid of not accomplishing all I want to, before dying. Even then, that's not really a concern.
Truthfully, the most unsettling anxiety this age and year have brought me is a very stereotypically human one: my parents mortality.
All this focus on death has brought an unsettling amount of consideration to the question of when will my parents die. I am terrified of losing either of them. As Buddhist as I am about my own death and the fate of the entire planet, I cannot shake the very present, very powerful fear of losing my parents.
It was the thorn in my lion's paw after conquering my thoughts on my personal mortality. I've decided that I want to live indefinitely. Not Immortal per se, just continuing as long as I wish. And as this is my wish and I've set my intent on it, I will have it. That's how things work here. Intent>Action>Reality BUT, I cannot control how my parents think/feel. Nor would I want to. Neither of them would accept life extension, I'm sure. I'm in fact sure they are just as okay with their eventual end as I am. Yet, I am not okay with theirs.
Maybe that's another not as concrete goal for 2012 and hopefully 2013?
I keep thinking that if I get rich enough, soon enough, that I can retire my parents and learn everything about them I want to know, so that when the end is near I'll be more comfortable with it. As it stands however, I want more time. I miss them.
I also hope to be institutional in bringing about Mind-Uploading and Prosthetic Bodies. Those are certainly beyond 2013 endeavors. They're going to take time. Even if they were here, now, I just don't see my parents being keen on participating.
I've learned to move past fears of my own mortality and those of my parents and the planet with the simple realization that everything is as it should be. If I don't ride around in cars all this year for fear of dying, how would I feel if on 12.24.2012 a car "randomly" fell out of the sky and killed me anyway? Pretty stupid. As it stands I'm going to die one day, in fact all of us are, but I'm not going to let that dominate my actions and enjoyment in the here and now. I'm not going to be careless or reckless or do anything to hasten its arrival but I'm also not going to diminish my quality of life with unnecessary precaution.
2012 is going to be my year. 2012: The Year Of Josh Vish.
It's either going to be my and/or our last year and thus I'll/we'll go out with a bang, or it's going to be a fierce start to whole new lifestyle. The initial explosion that sends the rocket hurtling upward into space.
Either way, it's guaranteed to be awesome.
Hello 2012, I've been waiting for you. For a long time.
My goal, for 2012 and the rest of my life: To realign mankind with the harmony of nature.
I knew it would one day come.
It's hard to believe it's finally here.
The beginning of what could very well be my last year on this earth.
1.1.2012
The first day of 2012. The first day of a new year.
I am 27, and it's 2012. OFFICIALLY. No take-backsies. For realsies.
When I was in my late teens, I prophesied my own death. Not in the serious manner that statement suggests, but in a far more serendipitous revelation that sent me down a spiral of mania culminating in my early 20s.
You ever ask yourself a question inside your head and then get a knee-jerk response from a "voice" within? The voice just being your inner thought, not a perceived separate entity.
You know, something like, what do I want to eat right now? And the next thought you have/hear is omelette with mushrooms, peppers and bacon.
Well, one day, in my youth, I randomly thought to myself "When will I die?" 27.
27.
Quick and unwavering. Knee-jerk. Instantaneous. 27, was the answer. "Well that's kinda freaky/unsettling..." I thought, followed by thinking, "Wonder how?" Car accident.
Car accident. The very next discernible bit of data was "car accident". No other possibilities listed. No lilting unsure tone. Smooth, definitive delivery. Car accident.
The damage done, I sat and thought and largely have done so ever since. I even used to have a countdown on a dry erase board much to the behest of a former flame.
That experience in and of itself is scary and threatens one with what I would categorize as "unhealthy" thoughts.
Couple that with the following information and learning it all for the first time en masse thanks to the internet and a voracious curiosity that has fueled me (and possibly defined my character) my entire life and you practically have a recipe for psychosis.
In an order that I don't care to remember I learned of 2012, and its significance to the Mayans, my best friend's self-predicted age of death (30, what he would be in 2012), The Age Of Aquarius, and the 27 Club.
Maya and 2012 - 13th b'ak'tun - End of the calendar. Misinterpreted as Armageddon. Meant to be taken as The End Of Time. A Mass Spiritual Awakening.
Age Of Aquarius - We're moving from the Age Of Pisces wherein we are the "fish" in "water". Human in life. Immersed in it. Powerless to affect its ebb and flow. In the Age Of Aquarius, we'll be the water-bearers. The Water won't control us or our lives, we'll control it.
27 Club - Many famous musicians and performers have signed off at this age and I fit right in with them. Eerily well.
In my early 20s I was dating a delightfully intelligent young asian girl. (I love asian girls.) She was South Korean (I love Japanese and South Korean girls) and quick as a whip. Her beautiful outside shell was merely icing on the cake compared the gorgeous brain/intellect she housed within. Her personality and wit pulled on me like a black hole and her ethnicity/beauty communicated The Fates were at work. They sealed the deal. It seemed "too good to be true". (It was.)
In certain ways, she enabled me. Unfortunately an intellect like mine is hard to contend with when it's set its sights on a goal.
My name is Joshua, I desire to help everyone, I get along with pretty much everyone I meet, remarkably wise despite my youth, surprisingly heartfelt compared to my pervasive silliness, a naturalist concerned with whole foods and sustainability, a fierce thinker with deep interest in The Eastern Ways, a psychonaut pioneering the farthest reaches of my mind with the aid of entheogens, I was born on Christmas Eve, I'm white, I have/enjoy beards, I don't wear shoes... She, I, and many others had all been led to the same conclusion: I was the Second Coming Of Christ.
Having one person tell you they think you might be Jesus after you've lightly theorized this independently is surreal and disconcerting. Having several people do this, several times a day, without provocation is a great way to schism from reality entirely.
I've always prided myself on Observing The Observer and Breaking The Fourth Wall, so after some pensive introspection and careful analysis of my overall character and past experiences, a new more terrifying theory surfaced: I was the Anti-Christ. Nowhere in the bible does it say that the Anti-Christ, WILLINGLY, MALEVOLENTLY brings about the end of mankind. It says simply that he will unite them and ultimately lead to their downfall. It seemed perfectly reasonable to me then that he may accomplish this without setting out to do so. What if he made an invention, or gave a speech, or something that led to everyone being connected and then once THAT occurred the new Collective fucked things up on its own? This quickly became incorporated into Theory 3.0: I, Josh Vish, am both the Second Coming Of The Christ and The Anti-Christ. It stood to reason that with my innate charisma and intelligence and my burning desire to connect with the entire planet that I could totally be responsible for uniting everyone. And even though it was in the name of Love, some sort of a horrible perversion of my ideals might occur leading to cataclysm.
I'd pretty much resolved myself to loserhood/obscurity. For the sake of the planet.
Then I came to realize that a good deed is a good deed is a good deed. Like the woman that dumped expensive amounts of anointing oil on Jesus. The people around said "Hey! She coulda sold that and bought food for kids or something!" "Yeah!" "Yeah!" They all said and all patted each other on the back. "She wasn't thinking right! She didn't do THE MOST good she could do!" And Jesus shut dem bitches up with, "She did was she thought was good, and that is enough."
BOOM.
That it came from her heart and was genuinely altruistic is what exonerates her of folly.
Here's this suave motherfucker, strollin' from town to town, wearin' sandals, havin' a beard, spittin' wisdom, healin' niggas, preachin', just bein' an all around badass and now he's in YOUR town. Show your appreciation/reverence. GO! And the first thing she could think of was to douse his ass in Anointing Oil. Good enough, the J Man said. Appreciated.
*Side note, Anointing Oil was made from Cannabis...
If you bought someone a pizza and then when they got home they were too full to eat the surprise steak someone else had prepared for them, are you a bad person because you indirectly contributed to them missing out on steak? Fuck no. Easy answer.
Shit. YOU DICK. How dare you buy me pizza?!?! What a thoughtless asshole! Did you ever think that maybe steak was waiting for me?! You're evil. This confirms it.
NO.
So why should I feel bad if my efforts to Unite The Planet In Harmony end with Apocalypse?
I won't.
I've since matured, and integrated my thoughts and experience into a pretty stable worldview.
I'm not Jesus. I'm not the Anti-Christ. I'm Josh Vish. Not-Quite-Jesus. Jesus-like, but not actually Jesus.
I've talked before about my belief in what is essentially a more positive slant on Solipsism. I believe I am talking to myself right now. I believe we (as in not just humans, but EVERYTHING) are all one "thing" (call it God, if you want, I do) that willfully split into all these separate parts for the sole purpose of fun. Yes, you read it, my model of spirituality, philosophy, science and religion is the Cosmos is the answer to Cosmic Boredom. Divine Bordeom. We Weren't and Now We Are. Simple as that. Time is a perception, not an absolute value and all things exist HERE, NOW. They just aren't available to humans and our limited perception. WHICH IS OKAY. THAT'S THE POINT. These meatsuits are blinders from infinity.
America, cheeseburgers, facebook, alcohol. It's all okay.
Anyhoo, while I no longer believe myself to be The Second Coming/The Anti-Christ, I still sometimes fear it. I have big plans to put into place this year and I'd be lying if I didn't profess being motivated by fear. Fear of Mortality and fear of The Unknown. I've never been one to be controlled by my fear, but fear is a tricky thing. On the physical plane, if something creates terror in me, I sprint at it. Literally. However in the intangible realm of thought and possibility it's not always so easy to choose your target.
I love movies. I love everything about them. I love stories, I love symbolism, I love photography, color, kinetics, dialogue, language, art, music, etc. And I especially love movies' ability to transcend time and space. To alleviate barriers and blur boundaries. Cinema unites us like nothing else can. Well, except maybe the Internet, but still. MILLIONS of people watch a single film and BAM! just like that, it's ingrained in the collective. Unconscious AND conscious. Like orators, books and comics before it, movies are the most successful expression of communicating to everyone at once.
For a long time now I've wanted to be a part of movies, and even have. I want even more involvement. I want it to be how I pay rent and afford food. (I AM HUNGRY.)
So in 2012, I will continue down that path, Acting, Writing, Directing, Filmmaking, and if my predictions are correct, as I gain more and more notoriety, and more influence, I'll be poised to spark ACTUAL change on this planet. Whether with my voice or a film or a book, etc.
So far, the only direct attempt at omnipresence that I'm endeavoring upon is a simple birthday wish. I'm going to make it a facebook event and everything. (That's how you know its SERIOUS BUSINESS.)
This year, for my 28th birthday and last day of being 27, 12.24.2012, I would like for EVERYONE, literally every single human being on the planet capable of thought, to stop and think and focus on LOVE. Oh and making the summer in Pittsburgh a little longer and the winter a little shorter. That last part is a selfish desire though.
So that means that at one point in time, the entire planet's population of humans will be united in an activity AND thinking of me. POWERFUL STUFF. I get my Ego stroked AND help the planet. WIN/WIN. And then, from there, if my fame dwindles to niche crowds instead of the entire planet, so be it. I will've accomplished my goal.
Hopefully 2013 will consist of spending time in Japan while continuing to make movies, smoke cannabis and lift weights.
I'm going to attempt to get to Japan in 2012 as well, but it will be from more of a tourist standpoint with the end goal of Uniting The Planet in mind. Afterward, in 2013, my time in Japan will focus SOLEY on Japan.
If I'm still alive and we're still here, in 2013 I'd like to be:
making movies for a living
lifting weights regularly
swimming routinely
practicing yoga
smoking cannabis whenever it tickles my fancy
furthering my research on entheogens
living in Japan for indefinite periods of time
on my way to connecting with my future wife
eating flesh and fresh fruits and vegetables every single day
Beyond 2013 -
Wife and kids.
Living in Japan and Western PA.
Making movies.
Doing standup.
Working out regularly.
Drawing.
Writing.
Experimenting with Farming.
Hunting.
Owning Land.
I have lots of goals and am fervently in love with the leapfrog pace of obtaining them and setting new ones. This is guaranteed to be a great year for me.
One last stitch of anxiety I'd like to address. The focus on my own mortality that 27 and 2012 have brought does not overwhelm me in the ways you might think it does. I don't care about death. I don't care about dying. It's no big deal. I'm not afraid of it. What I am afraid of is: not living. I'm afraid of not accomplishing all I want to, before dying. Even then, that's not really a concern.
Truthfully, the most unsettling anxiety this age and year have brought me is a very stereotypically human one: my parents mortality.
All this focus on death has brought an unsettling amount of consideration to the question of when will my parents die. I am terrified of losing either of them. As Buddhist as I am about my own death and the fate of the entire planet, I cannot shake the very present, very powerful fear of losing my parents.
It was the thorn in my lion's paw after conquering my thoughts on my personal mortality. I've decided that I want to live indefinitely. Not Immortal per se, just continuing as long as I wish. And as this is my wish and I've set my intent on it, I will have it. That's how things work here. Intent>Action>Reality BUT, I cannot control how my parents think/feel. Nor would I want to. Neither of them would accept life extension, I'm sure. I'm in fact sure they are just as okay with their eventual end as I am. Yet, I am not okay with theirs.
Maybe that's another not as concrete goal for 2012 and hopefully 2013?
I keep thinking that if I get rich enough, soon enough, that I can retire my parents and learn everything about them I want to know, so that when the end is near I'll be more comfortable with it. As it stands however, I want more time. I miss them.
I also hope to be institutional in bringing about Mind-Uploading and Prosthetic Bodies. Those are certainly beyond 2013 endeavors. They're going to take time. Even if they were here, now, I just don't see my parents being keen on participating.
I've learned to move past fears of my own mortality and those of my parents and the planet with the simple realization that everything is as it should be. If I don't ride around in cars all this year for fear of dying, how would I feel if on 12.24.2012 a car "randomly" fell out of the sky and killed me anyway? Pretty stupid. As it stands I'm going to die one day, in fact all of us are, but I'm not going to let that dominate my actions and enjoyment in the here and now. I'm not going to be careless or reckless or do anything to hasten its arrival but I'm also not going to diminish my quality of life with unnecessary precaution.
2012 is going to be my year. 2012: The Year Of Josh Vish.
It's either going to be my and/or our last year and thus I'll/we'll go out with a bang, or it's going to be a fierce start to whole new lifestyle. The initial explosion that sends the rocket hurtling upward into space.
Either way, it's guaranteed to be awesome.
Hello 2012, I've been waiting for you. For a long time.
My goal, for 2012 and the rest of my life: To realign mankind with the harmony of nature.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
I am, the Consciousness of All That Is.
I would like to explain to you how you are God.
You like to think you are not God, but you are. I promise you.
You want God to be bigger than you, to be "more in control" well worry not, God is. You are. There are 2 perceived forms of yourself. You as you've existed since time immemorial, before birth and after death and the you that's reading this right now at this exact moment.
How did you get here? Why? Why are you reading this? YOU WANT TO.
What are the odds that you'd see this? What are the odds that someone else outside of you would type these things up and then post them for you to see? YOU ARE HERE BECAUSE YOU WANTED TO BE.
This is another form of God, of you, of yourself. I am you and I'm choosing to hold the mirror up for you to See Yourself.
Don't worry. You got this. All of it. It's just a game. One we play when we're tired of being the atoms in a shrew's paw in Nepal in 300 B.C.
Consciousness and human form are a window. Not an absolute value. They're how we observe ourself.
Everything that has happened or ever will happen, has and is here. Now.
You. Your consciousness. Your brain. Your flesh, shuts you away from all that. Focuses you on your "life". Which is not a bad thing. All according to plan. Yours. Mine. Ours. Gods.
Time does not exist, it is a relativistic system for determining position in the macro physical world we live in. Before your birth and after your death you are everywhere and nowhere. Everywhen and nowhen. All at once. Taking human form cancels the majority of that out.
Yes that's right, you read it here. Your existence is a vacation from being Infinity.
Some of us do get homesick though, that's why love (and yes even sex) are so special. And psychedelic drugs. And fame. All ways of reconnecting with Ourself.
You've forgotten it, and you may not want to admit it, even after reading this, but you are God. We all are. That's okay, though. Your ignorance is all a part of the game.
When everyone gets to my level, we have to start over anyway. So plunge forward. Ignorance truly is bliss. But if you're not ignorant, if you've started down the road of questioning, then let me save you the trip. It ends with you realizing that you are EVERYTHING. LITERALLY EVERYTHING. Your life as you lead it now, from behind the eyeballs reading this and the brain processing it, is a calculated move by your Godself to have some fun. Rejoice!
I can't be God, you'll say. You're crazy, you say.
Oh yeah?
Why are you here? No, not on Earth, I mean HERE, reading this. NOW. Just a coincidence? We're friends online and blah blah blah. No. You are here because the me that is you but not actually you was compelled to write this so that actual you can read it. Both parties acted out by God.
If you fear that you're not good enough, or smart enough, or strong enough, find solace in this: You chose to be here.
If there was a pill, or a surgery, or a chant, or a plant, or WHATEVER that could increase your intelligence and strength and such, what would happen if you kept doing it? What if you were granted the unending ability to increase your ability?
Well, eventually you'd become God. And as God, in your new omnipotent omnipresent form you'd deem it necessary that you be banished to a physical body and told nothing of it. Nothing that is, until you read this.
THIS IS YOUR WAKE UP CALL.
If you're still with me at this point, but not agreeing with it,
Think of it like this,
You know those "other" "people" that populate your dreams?
Who are they? They're just in my head, you'll say.
What makes you different than them? Than a squirrel or a bottle of lotion or a discarded corndog stick. One thing. One thing only.
The two most powerful words in existence.
I AM.
The moment you started saying those words, you stepped out of the murk and into the realm of God.
How can you, the you that can't even remember a spouse's birthday or what you had for breakfast last week possibly balance creating whole fully realized individuals inside your brain?
The only difference between "you" and "them" is your ability to say those two all powerful words: I AM.
God is merely the force that asks what asking is.
That neverending thirst for knowledge. That constant need to "get to the bottom of things".
Still don't believe me? Well then think of that one person you've met that seemed super simple at first, even borderline dumb. And then one day you found out they had an ability/interest that borders on idiot savant. This person you initially looked down your nose at now possessing the power to awe you. That's God. That's God nature.
None of us are better than any of us, cuz we're all the same. The only differences here, on this plane, are levels of awareness.
And at the Josh Vish level of awareness, I (we, you) want us to quit killing each other, to stop worrying so much and to simply have fun.
You created yourself/are creating yourself.
WE ARE GOD.
You like to think you are not God, but you are. I promise you.
You want God to be bigger than you, to be "more in control" well worry not, God is. You are. There are 2 perceived forms of yourself. You as you've existed since time immemorial, before birth and after death and the you that's reading this right now at this exact moment.
How did you get here? Why? Why are you reading this? YOU WANT TO.
What are the odds that you'd see this? What are the odds that someone else outside of you would type these things up and then post them for you to see? YOU ARE HERE BECAUSE YOU WANTED TO BE.
This is another form of God, of you, of yourself. I am you and I'm choosing to hold the mirror up for you to See Yourself.
Don't worry. You got this. All of it. It's just a game. One we play when we're tired of being the atoms in a shrew's paw in Nepal in 300 B.C.
Consciousness and human form are a window. Not an absolute value. They're how we observe ourself.
Everything that has happened or ever will happen, has and is here. Now.
You. Your consciousness. Your brain. Your flesh, shuts you away from all that. Focuses you on your "life". Which is not a bad thing. All according to plan. Yours. Mine. Ours. Gods.
Time does not exist, it is a relativistic system for determining position in the macro physical world we live in. Before your birth and after your death you are everywhere and nowhere. Everywhen and nowhen. All at once. Taking human form cancels the majority of that out.
Yes that's right, you read it here. Your existence is a vacation from being Infinity.
Some of us do get homesick though, that's why love (and yes even sex) are so special. And psychedelic drugs. And fame. All ways of reconnecting with Ourself.
You've forgotten it, and you may not want to admit it, even after reading this, but you are God. We all are. That's okay, though. Your ignorance is all a part of the game.
When everyone gets to my level, we have to start over anyway. So plunge forward. Ignorance truly is bliss. But if you're not ignorant, if you've started down the road of questioning, then let me save you the trip. It ends with you realizing that you are EVERYTHING. LITERALLY EVERYTHING. Your life as you lead it now, from behind the eyeballs reading this and the brain processing it, is a calculated move by your Godself to have some fun. Rejoice!
I can't be God, you'll say. You're crazy, you say.
Oh yeah?
Why are you here? No, not on Earth, I mean HERE, reading this. NOW. Just a coincidence? We're friends online and blah blah blah. No. You are here because the me that is you but not actually you was compelled to write this so that actual you can read it. Both parties acted out by God.
If you fear that you're not good enough, or smart enough, or strong enough, find solace in this: You chose to be here.
If there was a pill, or a surgery, or a chant, or a plant, or WHATEVER that could increase your intelligence and strength and such, what would happen if you kept doing it? What if you were granted the unending ability to increase your ability?
Well, eventually you'd become God. And as God, in your new omnipotent omnipresent form you'd deem it necessary that you be banished to a physical body and told nothing of it. Nothing that is, until you read this.
THIS IS YOUR WAKE UP CALL.
If you're still with me at this point, but not agreeing with it,
Think of it like this,
You know those "other" "people" that populate your dreams?
Who are they? They're just in my head, you'll say.
What makes you different than them? Than a squirrel or a bottle of lotion or a discarded corndog stick. One thing. One thing only.
The two most powerful words in existence.
I AM.
The moment you started saying those words, you stepped out of the murk and into the realm of God.
How can you, the you that can't even remember a spouse's birthday or what you had for breakfast last week possibly balance creating whole fully realized individuals inside your brain?
The only difference between "you" and "them" is your ability to say those two all powerful words: I AM.
God is merely the force that asks what asking is.
That neverending thirst for knowledge. That constant need to "get to the bottom of things".
Still don't believe me? Well then think of that one person you've met that seemed super simple at first, even borderline dumb. And then one day you found out they had an ability/interest that borders on idiot savant. This person you initially looked down your nose at now possessing the power to awe you. That's God. That's God nature.
None of us are better than any of us, cuz we're all the same. The only differences here, on this plane, are levels of awareness.
And at the Josh Vish level of awareness, I (we, you) want us to quit killing each other, to stop worrying so much and to simply have fun.
You created yourself/are creating yourself.
WE ARE GOD.
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Sunday, July 10, 2011
100 Days In Japan (Hopefully)
A chance to go to Japan for 100 days AND GET PAID TO DO IT.A chance to go to Japan for 100 days and BE PAID TO WRITE ABOUT IT.
This is literally like a once in a lifetime, dream-come-true sorta thing.
"On 24th December 2011, after completing its mission of travelling 100 days and reporting from all over Japan, the Travel Volunteer will transform into Santa Claus and deliver Christmas Presents to displaced children in the Tohoku region!" This is tailor-made for me. I've always wanted to be Santa Claus when I grow up. Santa Claus in Japan? That's so perfect it's scary!
Getting paid to blog... Is this real-life?
I'm filling out the application form now.
I filled out a good portion of the form, but I'm holding off on submitting it because I wanna make sure it's PERFECT. This is a completely sublime chance and I'm not about to let it slide through my fingers thanks to some poor grammar or an incomplete thought. I'm goin' at this samurai style. One slice, one kill. Everything in my entire being. Burning myself up completely and leaving no trace.
I'm going to list all of my Japan related hopes and dreams and put them into the appropriate section on the application. I hope they don't think me too greedy... ^_____^ I have a lot I want to do!
大和魂
Why I should be chosen.
I'm extremely personable. Charismatic, even. I love meeting new people and I get along with just about everyone I meet. Going to Japan has been a long-standing goal of mine and I've been completely engrossed in Japanese culture for well over a decade. I love absolutely everything about Japan. I even hope to pick up more of the language, and I anticipate I'll be able to do so relatively quickly/easily thanks to being fully immersed in Japanese-speaking society. Such a beautiful language. Both spoken and written. Name something Japanese-related, and I'll bet you that I love it. Samurai, sushi/sashimi, anime, video games, martial arts, Nintendo, Ghibli, robots, Zen, manga.
I love eating, working out, , watching movies, playing videogames, photography, writing, blogging, drawing, learning, and of course, learning about Japan!
Another trait that makes me a good candidate for selection is that I regularly maintain a blog now anyway, so it would be an extremely easy transition. I love to write! Especially on the internet! Some other pros to choosing me: I have a job that would understand. I have a safe place for my belongings during the 100 days.
I can't say it enough times and enough ways: This would literally be like a dream coming true for me.
In addition to all of that my birthday is actually on Christmas Eve and I've always wanted to be Santa Claus! I'm rather tall/large and I can grow a beard quickly, we might only need to dye it! To the kids I'll be the real thing!
Like I've said, THIS literally would be my dream coming true. Getting to go to Japan for free is one thing, but for 100 days and essentially being paid to blog about it? Absolutely perfect. I've also always had what I thought was an unrealistic dream: to one day become Santa Claus. However, seeing as how as part of the package is transforming into Santa and handing out presents to the kids, this too will come true and combine with being in Japan to be simply sublime.
The only way this could fulfill even more of my dreams is if I also learned how to control my ki and fly and then went Super Saiyan! Haha!
Here is a huge list of things that any one of would fulfill the function of my dream. I'd be happy with absolutely any single one.
- Simply going to Japan.
- Finding, acquiring and learning to wield an authentic Katana.
- Dressing in full Samurai regalia and getting pictures of it.
- Kendo
- Sumo
- Zazen
- Visit and sit in a real authentic onsen, get to wear (and maybe keep) a yukata and zori during/afterward.
- Meeting Akira Toriyama
- Have him draw me DBZ style, get to keep it.
- Eating superfresh sushi and sashimi, and maybe learning how to slice some.- Meeting and getting a picture with Shigeru Miyamato.
- Miyazaki Museum
- Pictures/memorabilia
- Meeting and getting a picture with Miyazaki.
- Visit Pokemon Center
- Pictures/video of the legendary Shibuya crossing.
- Akihabra/Harajuku
- Osaka
- Tokyo
- Obtain authentic kimono and hakama. Tabi too.
- Picture of me with Mt. Fuji in background and a cherry blossom tree.
- Meeting and getting a picture with Kentaro Miura.
- I would like to retrace all or at least a portion of Basho's trail.
- Visit the grave sites of Akira Kurosawa and Shunryu Suzuki. (If located in Japan.)
- Meeting and getting a picture with Utada Hikaru.
- Learning how samurais and monks shaved their heads. Getting one.
- I would like to impress at least one local with pronunciation.
- Practice a character/phrase with calligraphy.
- Green tea ceremony.
- Aikido.
- A holographic Pikachu a la Hatsune Miku. (That one's for free, Miyamoto-sama. ;D)
- It would be an honor to run the Ninja Warrior course.
- I would like to be on a wacky Japanese game show.
- DRESSING UP AS SANTA CLAUS AND GIVE GIFTS TO ALL THE CHILDREN!!
- Learning to fly!
- Going Super Saiyan!
There is so much I want to do in Japan that this list could go on forever and ever. So I'll summarize again: simply being in Japan will be a dream come true.
I thank you for taking the time to review my application and I thank you in advance if I am chosen, I promise I will do my very best at exemplifying why everyone should go to Japan. It will sincerely be my pleasure. It already is.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Sunday, February 21, 2010
My weekend.
So the other day my friend, Kevin, wanted to trek out to Washington to the Tanger Outlets to buy some boots at the Timberland store. He asked me if I wanted to come. After seven months spent almost entirely in my house and three months in jail prior to that, I heartily agree to most any offer to go out and about, and this was no exception.
Despite being in the negative monetary-wise (and with no income to speak of), I decided that picking up a pair of durable practical boots might lift my spirits. "Retail therapy", I believe it's called. If I am going to get a job or complete my community service in this weather, a nice pair of boots would be invaluable, as I have to walk most anywhere I want to go.
The day started off with us heading to Shadyside to send his Macbook Pro off to be fixed. I relish any opportunity to go to Shadyside, and was quite excited to be in the area. As far as PA goes, Shadyside is where all my swankiest happenings have happened. It's where the after-party for the premiere of Kevin Smith's Zack and Miri Make a Porno was held, and also where I met and briefly chatted with the uber-cute Jamie Chung, and a few of her Sorority Row castmates while they were here in Pittsburgh. Both occurred on the same night at Alto Lounge.
The day was progressing nicely. Weather was way better than it has been. That and the smiles and conversations shared with random mac-store workers and patrons were having quite the positive effect on me. I always forget what a fun, funny and witty person I can be until I'm out in public doing it unintentionally. It's like "Ooooh yeah.... this is who I am...." Continuing the whole theme of avatars and the Japanese concept of tatemae and honne, it's in situations like these that I learn the most about myself. I don't so much think that we as humans purposefully shift from a private to a public persona for any reasons like shame or anything, but more because THERE IS NO ONE TO INTERACT WITH WHEN YOU ARE ALONE. And therefore no reference points. Despite many people assuming I probably do (what with all the characters and voices I do) I rarely, if ever, talk to myself. I can count on my hand the number of times I've done it. When by myself I am quiet and calm, and I would imagine most people are. Certain attributes of my character are only observable when compared in relation to those around me.
When I'm by myself I tend to think of myself as an introverted, bookish, nerdy, intellectual artist. Bordering on neurotic and somewhat anti-social. A bit egotistical but also somewhat insecure. In a crowd, I am the life of the party. The Tyler Durden to my Narrarator. I am attractive, conversational, witty, intelligent and humorous. I'm a local celebrity, shaking hands and kissing babies. The center of attention. A natural born leader. Barack Obama in public, Charlie Kaufman behind closed doors.
Side note: I've determined that I'm either incredibly good-looking, incredibly weird-looking or incredibly ugly because no matter where I go, people eye-fuck the shit out of me. Or maybe I look like a celebrity. It might also be that I'm so highly animated. Who knows? In my younger days it used to perplex and encuriate me, but presently it just serves to fuel my ego and make me feel good about myself.
We left the Mac Store and then went to a place called Sushi Too. A small, cozy sushi-hole that's not bad for being located in Western PA. The food was dece and the service was prompt and courteous. One of the cute asian waitresses was staring a hole trough me the entire time. Again, providing confidence and happiness. It's so fun to share smiles and stolen glances with a woman you've never met before. It feels naughty yet innocent, special yet arbitrary all at the same time. Either way it's fun and I enjoy it. I've always had a thing for asian women, specifically Japanese and South Korean, but after my (HORRIBLE) breakup with my most recent ex, they've been somewhat ruined for me. She was South Korean and every time I eye an attractive oriental girl I can't but help to be reminded of her. As such I've mostly tried to shut off my affinity for females from the far east.
While eating, Kevin and I began to wax philosophical on the values of eating at a leisurely pace, nutrition and just food in general. Having a history in personal training, health and fitness, being a former fat kid and a fan of clean eating I was all too happy to discuss such things. He was biking in the summer and has been steadily increasing his kitchen-related activities, so he too was quite keen to speak about such things.
Not too long ago, I watched two documentaries titled Food, Inc. and The Botany Of Desire. Both featuring Michael Pollan. (Both excellent, and highly recommended.) And after he himself completed it, Kevin insisted that I read Food Rules. I had just finished The Omnivore's Dilemma and I loved it, so in following the Michael Pollan theme decided to take him up on it. It's a short read, and I banged it out quite quickly. It's mostly just common sense and stuff I already know, although it was worded more cleverly and succinctly. It was like the cliff notes' version of either of the movies or Omnivore's Dilemma. With all this in the air and in our minds, we mindfully ate sushi and talked about how nice it is to know where your food comes from and to eat at a comfortable pace.
From there we ventured directly to the Tanger Outlets. A huge outdoor mall housing many factory stores of popular companies whose products are typically marked up and sold in department stores at typical malls. Having been the middle of February, and having been one of the harshest winters on record in this area, left the place mostly uninhabited. A weird ghost-town effect was plainly noticeable. Such a large place that obviously makes SCADS of money and attracts hundreds of thousands of customers, with nary more than a few stragglers in addition to those working the stores. It was somewhat eery, but kinda cool. I would like to see it on a nice, warm, busy day. Must be hectic. And awesome. Kevin expressed a preference for its current state and the division between us grew ever more apparent to me. Talk of zombie invasion (there at the outlets) lightened the mood, but I still couldn't help seeing the vast disparity in our characters.
While at the Outlets, I was struck with the plights of the modern American citizen. Specifically those of an affluent woman. I have never felt so womanly in my life. I mean that in as negative a way as possible. Many aspects of stereotypically female behaviors I actually strive to embody and unconsciously already do: nurturing, caring, feeling, so on and so forth... But there are two sides to every coin, and as such I can also embody the negative stereotypes of women as well, whiny, moody, shallow and overly obsessed with appearance. That last one is what happened here.
I just wanted a pair of crisp dark denim jeans, that were somewhat form-fitting but not restricting. Loose, but not baggy. Fashionable, but not gay.
I'd like to start off by expressing my extreme distaste for two current trends in fashion.
First, and my most hated, pre-distressed/faded jeans.
Are you kidding me? You expect me to pay upwards of a hundred dollars for jeans that look beat-to-shit? Jeans I would throw out? Back in my day, holes in your jeans meant you were poor or dirty, likely both. I'll tell you what, you give me fifty bucks and I'll go get a pair of Levi's, wear 'em for three or four years and then give 'em to you. Deal? No? That's retarded? Silly? Why you want jeans someone else wore? EXACTLY. Pre-distressed and "vintage" t-shirts can suck my dick, too. If the shit I'm wearing is going to look like I've had it for years, then I want to have actually had it for years. Earn your stripes.
Second, skinny jeans for men.
What the fuck?! It's like we've now plunged this nations' male population into the same bullshit trap we've had our women in for years. For decades women have been oppressed by advertising and models telling them they should be able to fit into jeans that even a skeleton would have trouble sliding on. Now we're telling our men the same thing? I am a man, damnit. I have thick, muscular legs. What the fuck am I gonna do with a piece of material best suited to hold two broomsticks?! Get that shit out of my face. Here I am, a robust, muscular twenty-five-year-old male and I'm in a fitting room thinking "Maybe I should start running? Maybe I should modify my diet?" (Quick side note: I FUCKING HATE when people say they are "going on a diet". You are already on a diet, asshole. Whatever you eat comprises your diet.) Bullshit. That's just capitalist bullshit propaganda working its way into my head. And I don't appreciate it. FUCK SKINNY JEANS. Fuck 'em. Give me a pair of man-jeans.
I am the unwanted half-breed bastard child of the denim world.
Despite being in the negative monetary-wise (and with no income to speak of), I decided that picking up a pair of durable practical boots might lift my spirits. "Retail therapy", I believe it's called. If I am going to get a job or complete my community service in this weather, a nice pair of boots would be invaluable, as I have to walk most anywhere I want to go.
The day started off with us heading to Shadyside to send his Macbook Pro off to be fixed. I relish any opportunity to go to Shadyside, and was quite excited to be in the area. As far as PA goes, Shadyside is where all my swankiest happenings have happened. It's where the after-party for the premiere of Kevin Smith's Zack and Miri Make a Porno was held, and also where I met and briefly chatted with the uber-cute Jamie Chung, and a few of her Sorority Row castmates while they were here in Pittsburgh. Both occurred on the same night at Alto Lounge.
The day was progressing nicely. Weather was way better than it has been. That and the smiles and conversations shared with random mac-store workers and patrons were having quite the positive effect on me. I always forget what a fun, funny and witty person I can be until I'm out in public doing it unintentionally. It's like "Ooooh yeah.... this is who I am...." Continuing the whole theme of avatars and the Japanese concept of tatemae and honne, it's in situations like these that I learn the most about myself. I don't so much think that we as humans purposefully shift from a private to a public persona for any reasons like shame or anything, but more because THERE IS NO ONE TO INTERACT WITH WHEN YOU ARE ALONE. And therefore no reference points. Despite many people assuming I probably do (what with all the characters and voices I do) I rarely, if ever, talk to myself. I can count on my hand the number of times I've done it. When by myself I am quiet and calm, and I would imagine most people are. Certain attributes of my character are only observable when compared in relation to those around me.
When I'm by myself I tend to think of myself as an introverted, bookish, nerdy, intellectual artist. Bordering on neurotic and somewhat anti-social. A bit egotistical but also somewhat insecure. In a crowd, I am the life of the party. The Tyler Durden to my Narrarator. I am attractive, conversational, witty, intelligent and humorous. I'm a local celebrity, shaking hands and kissing babies. The center of attention. A natural born leader. Barack Obama in public, Charlie Kaufman behind closed doors.
Side note: I've determined that I'm either incredibly good-looking, incredibly weird-looking or incredibly ugly because no matter where I go, people eye-fuck the shit out of me. Or maybe I look like a celebrity. It might also be that I'm so highly animated. Who knows? In my younger days it used to perplex and encuriate me, but presently it just serves to fuel my ego and make me feel good about myself.
We left the Mac Store and then went to a place called Sushi Too. A small, cozy sushi-hole that's not bad for being located in Western PA. The food was dece and the service was prompt and courteous. One of the cute asian waitresses was staring a hole trough me the entire time. Again, providing confidence and happiness. It's so fun to share smiles and stolen glances with a woman you've never met before. It feels naughty yet innocent, special yet arbitrary all at the same time. Either way it's fun and I enjoy it. I've always had a thing for asian women, specifically Japanese and South Korean, but after my (HORRIBLE) breakup with my most recent ex, they've been somewhat ruined for me. She was South Korean and every time I eye an attractive oriental girl I can't but help to be reminded of her. As such I've mostly tried to shut off my affinity for females from the far east.
While eating, Kevin and I began to wax philosophical on the values of eating at a leisurely pace, nutrition and just food in general. Having a history in personal training, health and fitness, being a former fat kid and a fan of clean eating I was all too happy to discuss such things. He was biking in the summer and has been steadily increasing his kitchen-related activities, so he too was quite keen to speak about such things.
Not too long ago, I watched two documentaries titled Food, Inc. and The Botany Of Desire. Both featuring Michael Pollan. (Both excellent, and highly recommended.) And after he himself completed it, Kevin insisted that I read Food Rules. I had just finished The Omnivore's Dilemma and I loved it, so in following the Michael Pollan theme decided to take him up on it. It's a short read, and I banged it out quite quickly. It's mostly just common sense and stuff I already know, although it was worded more cleverly and succinctly. It was like the cliff notes' version of either of the movies or Omnivore's Dilemma. With all this in the air and in our minds, we mindfully ate sushi and talked about how nice it is to know where your food comes from and to eat at a comfortable pace.
From there we ventured directly to the Tanger Outlets. A huge outdoor mall housing many factory stores of popular companies whose products are typically marked up and sold in department stores at typical malls. Having been the middle of February, and having been one of the harshest winters on record in this area, left the place mostly uninhabited. A weird ghost-town effect was plainly noticeable. Such a large place that obviously makes SCADS of money and attracts hundreds of thousands of customers, with nary more than a few stragglers in addition to those working the stores. It was somewhat eery, but kinda cool. I would like to see it on a nice, warm, busy day. Must be hectic. And awesome. Kevin expressed a preference for its current state and the division between us grew ever more apparent to me. Talk of zombie invasion (there at the outlets) lightened the mood, but I still couldn't help seeing the vast disparity in our characters.
While at the Outlets, I was struck with the plights of the modern American citizen. Specifically those of an affluent woman. I have never felt so womanly in my life. I mean that in as negative a way as possible. Many aspects of stereotypically female behaviors I actually strive to embody and unconsciously already do: nurturing, caring, feeling, so on and so forth... But there are two sides to every coin, and as such I can also embody the negative stereotypes of women as well, whiny, moody, shallow and overly obsessed with appearance. That last one is what happened here.
I just wanted a pair of crisp dark denim jeans, that were somewhat form-fitting but not restricting. Loose, but not baggy. Fashionable, but not gay.
I'd like to start off by expressing my extreme distaste for two current trends in fashion.
First, and my most hated, pre-distressed/faded jeans.
Are you kidding me? You expect me to pay upwards of a hundred dollars for jeans that look beat-to-shit? Jeans I would throw out? Back in my day, holes in your jeans meant you were poor or dirty, likely both. I'll tell you what, you give me fifty bucks and I'll go get a pair of Levi's, wear 'em for three or four years and then give 'em to you. Deal? No? That's retarded? Silly? Why you want jeans someone else wore? EXACTLY. Pre-distressed and "vintage" t-shirts can suck my dick, too. If the shit I'm wearing is going to look like I've had it for years, then I want to have actually had it for years. Earn your stripes.
Second, skinny jeans for men.
What the fuck?! It's like we've now plunged this nations' male population into the same bullshit trap we've had our women in for years. For decades women have been oppressed by advertising and models telling them they should be able to fit into jeans that even a skeleton would have trouble sliding on. Now we're telling our men the same thing? I am a man, damnit. I have thick, muscular legs. What the fuck am I gonna do with a piece of material best suited to hold two broomsticks?! Get that shit out of my face. Here I am, a robust, muscular twenty-five-year-old male and I'm in a fitting room thinking "Maybe I should start running? Maybe I should modify my diet?" (Quick side note: I FUCKING HATE when people say they are "going on a diet". You are already on a diet, asshole. Whatever you eat comprises your diet.) Bullshit. That's just capitalist bullshit propaganda working its way into my head. And I don't appreciate it. FUCK SKINNY JEANS. Fuck 'em. Give me a pair of man-jeans.
I am the unwanted half-breed bastard child of the denim world.
In the fashionable, young, punky stores I could feel the eyes of the clerks and few patrons judging me.
"Get out of here, you muscular jock asshole." Their gazes said to me.
"We don't like your kind round these parts..."
Whereas in Casual Male XL, everyone's eyes were saying,
"Oh look at you, you skinny little faggot. Oh boo hoo, my arms are too long for shirts. Boo hoo, I can't find pants that are loose in the thighs but actually fit in the waist."
Tertium Quid again rears its ugly head. Has me thinking I'll just have to get rich and have everything custom made. That way I can also have everything be hemp.
The whole ordeal had me feeling really bourgeois and affluent.
Like seriously, is buying jeans or shoes really this big of a deal?
Really that important?
Just buy a fucking pair of pants or shoes and shut the fuck up already. Yeesh.
I went in with the attitude of survival first, fashion second. I wanted durable fitting jeans that I could still move around in and a pair of boots that would keep my feet dry without being or looking clunky. It ended up turning into a fiasco that many women immediately identified with, according to the comments on my facebook status updates throughout the day.
When jeans fit over my thighs and ass they are WAY too loose around my waist and look retarded. Frumpy. Like that bullshit trend among teenagers where they wear jeans three sizes too small but yet somehow still manage to sag. The other options are jeans that fit in the waist and either look like gangsta-ass gangsta baggy jeans, that would be entirely unpractical to commence any sort of physical activity in, or jeans so tight they look like they could be painted on. I seriously felt like I was going to need cut out of every "fashionable" pair of jeans I tried on.
The boots I didn't feel as girly about, but I was still quite disappointed. Having a wide foot really fucks you for most shoes. Your options are crush the sides of your foot or have enough space in front of your toes that you end up sliding all around inside and chafing the fuck out of your ankles. I chose neither. Again, maybe I'll just have to wait until I can have everything custom-made.
I ended up leaving without buying anything. Seeing as how as I have less than a dollar to my name (indeed negative dollars) it was probably better that way. It doesn't change the fact that I still need/desire a solid pair of jeans and boots.
The ridiculousness and triviality of these "problems" does not escape me. Whereas people are dying just to find clean drinking water I'm bitching about the waitress putting ice in mine when I specifically asked her not to. Ludicrous. Then again, "problems" are only relative anyway... Even though you might laugh at a person being upset over losing a million dollars when they still have ten million more I'm sure that person is still quite sad about it. And rightfully so.
It just seems silly to me to bitch about finding correctly-fitting pants when there are people in the world THAT DON'T EVEN WEAR PANTS.
At some point, Kov wondered aloud, "What if you were in an asexual homosexual relationship?" His delivery was genuine and I could see the irony had yet to dawn on him. I sat quietly and just stared at him, waiting for the pink elephant in the room to wave his way. It did eventually and we each shared a chuckle.
Asexual homosexual relationship? No thank you. I want a sexual heterosexual relationship. I love women and I miss sex. I miss cuddling even more. I also miss sharing the burden of daily life in a near-perfect harmonious relationship. I hate to do dishes, my x loved them. I love to vacuum, my x hated it. Sooooo she did the dishes and I vacuumed. Perfect. I want that sort of relationship again. Natural. Organic. Not forced. Each one picking up where the other one leaves off.
That feeling combined with all the sympathy I received after my trying-on-jeans escapade helps to reinforce just how much I want and need a woman in my life. Not just one I can live with, but one I can't live with out. I think I want to fall in love again. But a huge part of me knows I'm not ready. Thinks I will NEVER be ready, ever again. My last x destroyed my heart. Ripped it out of my chest and stomped on it. Then wore the blood-covered boots out and told everyone where it came from. I could go into further detail but I don't wanna sound like a whiny emo teenager. Bad shit happens to everyone, you deal with it and move on.
It's just kinda hard to move on when your faith in the entire human race has been all but obliterated.
I will not go off on a tangent about my x.
I will not go off on a tangent about my x.
I will not go off on a tangent about my x.
I will not go off on a tangent about my x.
I will not go off on a tangent about my x.
It's shitty, but I want like a "rental" girlfriend. I'm not ready to settle down yet, so looking for more serious options would be doing both parties a disservice. I eventually want a wife that I'm madly in love with and can raise children with, but I'm simply not ready for her yet. Or them. (Our future kids) I am still a child myself. I need to figure myself out and get my life together before I think about pursuing a life-time partnership. Or creating/molding lives with said partner. It just sucks because I know that if I had a strong woman to depend on, and share with, that I could much more easily get my life together. It's like needing a car to get a job, but needing a job to get a car.
Back to the avatar talk...
I LOVE that movie. Just as it as. As a standalone entertainment experience. But also (and maybe even more so) for the the thoughts and ideas it created in me. Not only the long-standing return-to-nature theme that has been prevalent in my life for so many years, but also the concept of avatars.
In LittleBiGPlanet the first customization I gave to my Sackboy left him looking like a blue lion-man with a smile. When I was younger I gravitated toward Kimahri Ronso when my friends and I played FFX. The Beast was my second favorite X-Men character. I'm pretty fast and agile for a big guy and even a touch graceful. Blue is one of my three favorite colors. These and a whole slew of other things just left me enamored with the concept of inhabiting a twelve-foot blue lion-person body after coming out of the theater for Avatar. So many connections between things in my life lead to being an anthropomorphic cat-man.
So all this factored in and combined with my recent awareness of my apparent split-personality has left me wondering how best to physically represent myself. How best to express my inner self with my appearance. I have many "set" characters that I can slip in to, and out of, at will. With ease, (Sometimes TOO easily, and maybe not so willingly according to others.) Some are established and easily recognized and just modified for my purposes. Others are of my own creation. Others still are unnamed and not distinctly divided from the rest. In a stereotypically vain move, I've taken to using many of my friends as outward representations of my character.
But despite all those people swimming around in my head (or maybe because of) a single "overlord" has yet to emerge. The ultimate symbol of Josh Vish-itude. There have been a few attempts, and I'm sure people I know have opinions on the matter, but the truth is, I don't feel I've completely realized who I am yet. As a character or in appearance.
I've decided to take it to the drawing board and to design myself from head to toe. From the inside to the out. To turn myself into an immediately recognizable symbol. An Icon. I want what I look like to represent who I am. In short, I will now be creating my own avatar. As best as I can with the options I've been given. Most people can immediately describe the character and/or appearance of say, Jesus or Goku or Superman or Bruce Lee when asked to do so. I want to be the same way. I want to be a household name. Like Coca-Cola or Arnold Schwarzenegger. A verb. I am well aware this is my ego talking and that such aspirations also inherently prove risky (on many levels) but regardless, this is how I feel. All humans want to be remembered as it is our most feasible chance at immortality. A legacy is far easier to attain than actual eternal life. I am no different.
In favor of brevity I will eschew talking about the character I aspire to embody and will instead focus on the outward appearance of my physical body.
I want to be tan, fit, lean and muscular. In addition to actually being athletic and powerful, I want to look it. Crisp, clean lines around neatly trimmed hair. As far as manner of dress. I want to be tactical, yet fashionable. Function first, fashion second.
In other Vish-news...
I am officially done inhaling combusted cannabis until I have secured a gym membership, the ability to get there and the time to use it. This requires a job and transportation. Neither of which I have now. You can't respectfully smoke marijuana without maintaining a productive lifestyle. In my opinion, at least. And right now I am just a bum. A typical stoner. NO MORE, I say. One blunt before a workout. Maybe a pipe on the weekends. No more chiefin' joints and smokin' roaches. No more midis. Only beautiful nuggets. Green. Colorful. Hairy. (just like me)
When I start living in a manner that I am proud of and pleases me, I will resume my willful habit. But first, I must prove myself. To myself.
"Get out of here, you muscular jock asshole." Their gazes said to me.
"We don't like your kind round these parts..."
Whereas in Casual Male XL, everyone's eyes were saying,
"Oh look at you, you skinny little faggot. Oh boo hoo, my arms are too long for shirts. Boo hoo, I can't find pants that are loose in the thighs but actually fit in the waist."
Tertium Quid again rears its ugly head. Has me thinking I'll just have to get rich and have everything custom made. That way I can also have everything be hemp.
The whole ordeal had me feeling really bourgeois and affluent.
Like seriously, is buying jeans or shoes really this big of a deal?
Really that important?
Just buy a fucking pair of pants or shoes and shut the fuck up already. Yeesh.
I went in with the attitude of survival first, fashion second. I wanted durable fitting jeans that I could still move around in and a pair of boots that would keep my feet dry without being or looking clunky. It ended up turning into a fiasco that many women immediately identified with, according to the comments on my facebook status updates throughout the day.
When jeans fit over my thighs and ass they are WAY too loose around my waist and look retarded. Frumpy. Like that bullshit trend among teenagers where they wear jeans three sizes too small but yet somehow still manage to sag. The other options are jeans that fit in the waist and either look like gangsta-ass gangsta baggy jeans, that would be entirely unpractical to commence any sort of physical activity in, or jeans so tight they look like they could be painted on. I seriously felt like I was going to need cut out of every "fashionable" pair of jeans I tried on.
The boots I didn't feel as girly about, but I was still quite disappointed. Having a wide foot really fucks you for most shoes. Your options are crush the sides of your foot or have enough space in front of your toes that you end up sliding all around inside and chafing the fuck out of your ankles. I chose neither. Again, maybe I'll just have to wait until I can have everything custom-made.
I ended up leaving without buying anything. Seeing as how as I have less than a dollar to my name (indeed negative dollars) it was probably better that way. It doesn't change the fact that I still need/desire a solid pair of jeans and boots.
The ridiculousness and triviality of these "problems" does not escape me. Whereas people are dying just to find clean drinking water I'm bitching about the waitress putting ice in mine when I specifically asked her not to. Ludicrous. Then again, "problems" are only relative anyway... Even though you might laugh at a person being upset over losing a million dollars when they still have ten million more I'm sure that person is still quite sad about it. And rightfully so.
It just seems silly to me to bitch about finding correctly-fitting pants when there are people in the world THAT DON'T EVEN WEAR PANTS.
At some point, Kov wondered aloud, "What if you were in an asexual homosexual relationship?" His delivery was genuine and I could see the irony had yet to dawn on him. I sat quietly and just stared at him, waiting for the pink elephant in the room to wave his way. It did eventually and we each shared a chuckle.
Asexual homosexual relationship? No thank you. I want a sexual heterosexual relationship. I love women and I miss sex. I miss cuddling even more. I also miss sharing the burden of daily life in a near-perfect harmonious relationship. I hate to do dishes, my x loved them. I love to vacuum, my x hated it. Sooooo she did the dishes and I vacuumed. Perfect. I want that sort of relationship again. Natural. Organic. Not forced. Each one picking up where the other one leaves off.
That feeling combined with all the sympathy I received after my trying-on-jeans escapade helps to reinforce just how much I want and need a woman in my life. Not just one I can live with, but one I can't live with out. I think I want to fall in love again. But a huge part of me knows I'm not ready. Thinks I will NEVER be ready, ever again. My last x destroyed my heart. Ripped it out of my chest and stomped on it. Then wore the blood-covered boots out and told everyone where it came from. I could go into further detail but I don't wanna sound like a whiny emo teenager. Bad shit happens to everyone, you deal with it and move on.
It's just kinda hard to move on when your faith in the entire human race has been all but obliterated.
I will not go off on a tangent about my x.
I will not go off on a tangent about my x.
I will not go off on a tangent about my x.
I will not go off on a tangent about my x.
I will not go off on a tangent about my x.
It's shitty, but I want like a "rental" girlfriend. I'm not ready to settle down yet, so looking for more serious options would be doing both parties a disservice. I eventually want a wife that I'm madly in love with and can raise children with, but I'm simply not ready for her yet. Or them. (Our future kids) I am still a child myself. I need to figure myself out and get my life together before I think about pursuing a life-time partnership. Or creating/molding lives with said partner. It just sucks because I know that if I had a strong woman to depend on, and share with, that I could much more easily get my life together. It's like needing a car to get a job, but needing a job to get a car.
Back to the avatar talk...
I LOVE that movie. Just as it as. As a standalone entertainment experience. But also (and maybe even more so) for the the thoughts and ideas it created in me. Not only the long-standing return-to-nature theme that has been prevalent in my life for so many years, but also the concept of avatars.
In LittleBiGPlanet the first customization I gave to my Sackboy left him looking like a blue lion-man with a smile. When I was younger I gravitated toward Kimahri Ronso when my friends and I played FFX. The Beast was my second favorite X-Men character. I'm pretty fast and agile for a big guy and even a touch graceful. Blue is one of my three favorite colors. These and a whole slew of other things just left me enamored with the concept of inhabiting a twelve-foot blue lion-person body after coming out of the theater for Avatar. So many connections between things in my life lead to being an anthropomorphic cat-man.
So all this factored in and combined with my recent awareness of my apparent split-personality has left me wondering how best to physically represent myself. How best to express my inner self with my appearance. I have many "set" characters that I can slip in to, and out of, at will. With ease, (Sometimes TOO easily, and maybe not so willingly according to others.) Some are established and easily recognized and just modified for my purposes. Others are of my own creation. Others still are unnamed and not distinctly divided from the rest. In a stereotypically vain move, I've taken to using many of my friends as outward representations of my character.
But despite all those people swimming around in my head (or maybe because of) a single "overlord" has yet to emerge. The ultimate symbol of Josh Vish-itude. There have been a few attempts, and I'm sure people I know have opinions on the matter, but the truth is, I don't feel I've completely realized who I am yet. As a character or in appearance.
I've decided to take it to the drawing board and to design myself from head to toe. From the inside to the out. To turn myself into an immediately recognizable symbol. An Icon. I want what I look like to represent who I am. In short, I will now be creating my own avatar. As best as I can with the options I've been given. Most people can immediately describe the character and/or appearance of say, Jesus or Goku or Superman or Bruce Lee when asked to do so. I want to be the same way. I want to be a household name. Like Coca-Cola or Arnold Schwarzenegger. A verb. I am well aware this is my ego talking and that such aspirations also inherently prove risky (on many levels) but regardless, this is how I feel. All humans want to be remembered as it is our most feasible chance at immortality. A legacy is far easier to attain than actual eternal life. I am no different.
In favor of brevity I will eschew talking about the character I aspire to embody and will instead focus on the outward appearance of my physical body.
I want to be tan, fit, lean and muscular. In addition to actually being athletic and powerful, I want to look it. Crisp, clean lines around neatly trimmed hair. As far as manner of dress. I want to be tactical, yet fashionable. Function first, fashion second.
In other Vish-news...
I am officially done inhaling combusted cannabis until I have secured a gym membership, the ability to get there and the time to use it. This requires a job and transportation. Neither of which I have now. You can't respectfully smoke marijuana without maintaining a productive lifestyle. In my opinion, at least. And right now I am just a bum. A typical stoner. NO MORE, I say. One blunt before a workout. Maybe a pipe on the weekends. No more chiefin' joints and smokin' roaches. No more midis. Only beautiful nuggets. Green. Colorful. Hairy. (just like me)
When I start living in a manner that I am proud of and pleases me, I will resume my willful habit. But first, I must prove myself. To myself.
Last night after getting some grub at Mad Mex with the pair of Kevs, Little Kev wanted to hit the town. Apparently Big Kev had made it seem like that was the plan, so when he was talking of heading home Little Kev was left wanting. So he asked me to head out and about with him. Again, I all too happily obliged.
We first went to Oakland and the Spice Cafe. It was too loud for normal conversation and after a water and contrived conversation with a waitress we decided to roll out. We then made our way to Shadyside. After parking, we putzed around and eventually came to Alto Lounge. There was a pleasant group of attractive young females cutting a rug on the dance floor and music of an acceptable volume. We stayed there for a bit and flirted with the bartender. A ridiculously attractive brunette dressed sportily. She helped us find directions (on her Macbook) to Shadow Lounge. And that is where we headed next.
This whole time we were chit-chatting away in the car as both of us are extremely talkative and passionate. A few common topics emerged. He was quite pleased with the feeling of adventure afforded to him by driving around somewhat aimlessly and eager to break into nightlife. Prior to my forced isolation, I was never much for the bar scene. I abhor tobacco and those that smoke it and for the most part don't even care to drink. I like beer and I drink it with meals, but I do it in the snobby sense. I say shit like, "Oh notes of cardamom..." or "These hops were harvested quite young..." Drinking for me is not "LET'S GET SHIT-FACED!!!" I have never understood that mentality. Beverage is beverage and regarded largely the same way I treat food. Regardless of these facts he chose me to be his liaison. Which I can certainly understand, giving where I grew up and my time spent in LA. And because of my unwilling segregation I've been desiring to go out more as well.
After parking we rolled up to the front door which was flanked by a few scattered groups. One such group of which was a trio of attractive ladies pleasantly puffing some pot right out in front. On my own I would've taken a hit for sure, but with Little Kev nearby I didn't want to chance making him feel awkward. He's only just breaking into the social scene and I anticipated he would have felt lost while I was shooting the shit with fellow smokers. This was later confirmed as accurate by him. We poked our heads in and after finding out there was a ten dollar cover for a place that would be closing in roughly a half an hour, we decided to bail. The victory was already won. Little Kev just wanted to know where the place was for sure and I was happy with the crowd I had viewed in my short time there. The lingering scent of cannabis smokily hanging in the air, and rhythmic beats I'd have no problem movin mah feets to, will surely bring us both back there soon.
I am ready and waiting for you, Monday.
Big things should be happening tomorrow and hopefully I'll get a chance to write about them soon thereafter .
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