Covington

I was born in Covington, KY. It's the town across the river from Cincinnati. It's usually one of the top five largest cities in the state, but idiots often call it a small town, as if 100 people live here. Morons from Ohio also like to claim it's the Kentucky side of Cincinnati, which it isn't, because it's a completely different city, culture, geographic location, etc. But this blog is about the namesake. 
Leonard Covington was a war hero in the War of 1812, and it was here that he impressed so many of the troops he led, that when they returned home many of them suggested naming towns after him. But he didn't impress them so much because he could fire three muskets at once, or because he took so many bullets and lived to tel the tale (he was mortally wounded). Instead, he earned their respect because he took great care of them, on and off the field. Their needs were met as much as possible, first and foremost. Many can claim the same thing, but for an almost forgotten soldier to have so many (12) places named after him across the country, well, he was indeed an amazing man. 

Leonard Covington

Boycott Soul Temple Music: The Update to the Final Update

This is a response to this post: http://insanislupus.blogspot.com/2013/12/boycott-soul-temple-music-final-update.html

I promise I will never post anything else about Soul Temple Music. But I received a package in the mail shortly after posting my last entry about this debacle and then today, you guessed it, Soul Temple Music sent me another package. A brief summary, I fully endorsed the RZA's new label and encouraged a lot of people to buy Ghostface Killah's Twelve Reasons to Die. I got what I ordered, and eventually filed a PayPal dispute for other items I ordered while waiting for 12R2D. I got my money back, while others were screwed. And then my name showed up on a list of people waiting for orders. I received a package. And months later, I received another package. 
I kept my mouth shut when I received Ghostface Killah's Brown Tape on CD, as well as The Man With The Iron Fists on CD. I never ordered either of them, but whatever, right? Well, yesterday I got a 12r2D poster, Black Keys/RZA 7", both of which I already received from Soul Temple, and then the Brown Tape on Vinyl, which I never ordered from them (and already own), as well as The Man with the Iron Fists instrumental CD. Apparently a lot of people did, but some of them also got TMWTIF posters as well. 
This company is so damn incompetent they can't even fuck up orders consistently. I've wasted enough time talking about them, but I will say I'm sorry so many people still got screwed. On the bright side, everything I've received should be worth a lot of money, since so few people own any of them. Look for me on eBay. 

Moon Hum

This is going to be a bit out there and short and sweet and to the point. 

The moon apparently hums. This isn't that odd, since pretty much everything in space, including the earth, more or less hums. But there exist people who hear unexplained hums here on earth. Apparently, according to "research", the intensity of the hums increase whenever the moon is in different positions. I suffer from tinnitus on occasion, which I know isn't a hum, but it can be rather annoying, so I understand. According to the Spaceship Moon Theory, the moon is actually an alien craft. That would explain the hum when we landed on the moon and when meteors hit it. But why would they be there? Exactly. 

 

Don’t Be This Jackass

Someone asks a question online. You give an answer to the best of your knowledge. A few hours later, someone else responds with the same exact answer, maybe adding or subtracting a few words. They didn’t answer the question, you did. What they did was plagiarize yours and took credit for it. What’s even sadder is people will say shit like, “I agree with Plagiarist; their answer is right.” They’re also jackasses, because if they had bothered to read, they would have seen your answer first, saw that some jackass stole your answer and is passing it off as their own, insulting anyone who can see.  

You notice this a lot on websites that give points for the number of responses you make. I get that it’s a popularity contest and you win for devoting more of your time to the site, but you could at least expand on what the person you’re ripping off stated. Maybe their answer was general and you wanted to take it into specifics, or cite better sources, etc. You could instead say, “Originator is correct, but I’d like to add blah blah blah.” Their answer will then be better than your lazy, half-assed attempt at answering.

There is a disease that has been gripping various online communities. It’s a mental illness that makes people think their opinions are important; they’re not. It also makes them think their opinion is correct, in that “I’m right and you’re wrong” way; they’re not. I believe the knowledge plagiarist are in the same spectrum, along with those that like to respond with the word “first” on every online post they find. Your opinion should only matter to you. Being wrong is how you learn. Being first only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades. Don’t be any of these jackasses. 

First! 

According to incorrect people in the comments section.

The Owl Hoots Thrice

I'm not one of those dicks to bash superstitions, customs, or anything people want to believe. I find it more interesting to figure out where such beliefs come from. You don't believe in something someone else does? Well, good for you, here's your medal, and a gift certificate to your favorite restaurant, because it's the internet and your opinion counts for something. 
The one I hear in my family rather often is the owl hooting and bringing news of death. It's always news of death, not news that someone is being born, or that the house is on fire, or anything of that nature. Owls don't normally sit outside your house and hoot. If they do, you probably live next to a barn, or practice taxidermy and have stuffed their mate. But when you hear an owl hoot in the middle of the night, it can be rather alarming, because it's loud and very uncommon. 
My mom heard the owl hoot three nights in a row when certain members of her family died. Not sure if it was four nights, but she stopped counting after three, or three and then it stopped. I'm certain the person didn't immediately die, but usually sometime that week. There was that one time when the owl only hooted twice, and then no one died, so he may have had the wrong house, or someone killed him and he couldn't finish his death omen, so they got to live longer. 
Of course, I'm joking, but I don't know for certain where this myth comes from. I can find all kinds of info on an owl hooting and what it means, but not hooting over the course of three days. My mom learned it from her aunt and grandmother, both of which were German, but that's where my search ended. If you have any information, please call my 800 number. 

"I'll tell you one more time, and then I'm leaving."

Hotel Chelsea

This famous New York hotel was the spot for many artists, a list of which would take hours, possibly. The red-brick hotel's inner walls are covered in art, or at least it was until it was renovated. The balconies and railings are made of iron, making the building stand out and giving it an archaic quality in it's surroundings. Leonard Cohen wrote a song about it, called Chelsea Hotel No. 2, which details an encounter with him and Janis Joplin where they got freaky before they were about to split. About a year ago, that song was covered by Lana Del Rey, and the newer version still holds that same timeless quality. I've been having weird dreams, and this song and hotel popped up in them recently. I don't know why. 

Off the Grid

I'll be going off the grid over the course of the next week. I've got a lot of things to catch up on and unfortunately (for me) the internet is not one of them. I started writing in my blog every day to alleviate stress and get things off my mind, even random ones, but my goal was basically to get to 90 days straight of posting on this damn thing. I'm proud that I have achieved that and have no clue why most of you come here, which makes me even more proud. I'll probably post a few more times and of course will be back after the hiatus. Just wanted anyone who cares to know.

Under God

A year ago today, my friend, Brad Miller, died at the age of 28. Today also would have been the 27th birthday of another friend, Stacy Florence, who also passed away last year. Every Wednesday I like to share something I found interesting on Wikipedia, and after I share a story about each of them, I'd like to share something I had no clue about. Let me be forthcoming and admit it has to do with the phrase "under God" in the Pledge of Allegiance, which is currently in the news because people want it removed, but I assure you, this is about two relevant memories of two fallen friends.
Wherever devout religious people were, they would find Brad, offering their Amens and go-with-Gods, much like a cat that can always find the person that is allergic to them. While listening to someone tell him their life story, like he cared, I sat at my desk across from him smiling, knowing both were irritating him. Once he finished helping them, they thanked him and said, "God bless you," to which Brad rolled his eyes. For the rest of the day, I said "God bless you" every time he did anything for me. He finally got tired of it and asked, "You don't even believe in the same shit as these people, do you?" I responded that I believed in democracy and that it was "one nation, under God." He gave me that fed up look, to which I asked, "So how does it feel, knowing you were forced to repeat that every day in grade school." His response was, "'One nation, under the flying spaghetti monster' didn't have the same ring to it." Touche.
In a college English class one day, we were divided into groups of four, where we had to introduce and tell a little about ourselves. I got Stacy, some other girl I can't remember, and this other dipshit who was rather strange and got on my nerves. Dipshit introduced himself, declared his undying love for the Lord, Jesus Christ, and wanted to go on missions in China to convert them to Christianity. He subsequently skipped over the part about how he was wound too tight to even risk eternal damnation and masturbate to relieve stress. I introduced myself, said I wanted to just die of old age in the United States, and then he asked me what religion I was, like it was any of his business. I responded, "No preference." When Stacy introduced herself, he cut her off before she could reveal anything and asked her the same, to which she responded that she was Wiccan. I imagine he studied world religions on the side, because he had never heard of it, so she explained it, much to his disliking. "I don't really know what to make of that," he said, before adding, "It says one nation, under God, for a reason." I interjected that she would be fine, regardless, so long as she was a good person. He asked her if she really didn't believe in God, to which she told him she believe in me and what I said, so that should be good enough. He shook his head, eventually graduated, and I would imagine was beheaded in China.
"Under God" is in the news again and I thought it coincidental that it just so happens to be around that specific date. I looked up the reason it was added to the Pledge of Allegiance and while it was certainly interjected by our reptilian overlord at the time to make people think he was a typical American, the phrase itself was actually borrowed from Abraham Lincoln's Gettysburg Address. We also used to salute the flag like Nazis, but I've been wordy enough, and I've just received news that it is also being inserted into the Chinese Pledge of Allegiance as well...

Brad's Obituary
Stacy's Obituary
Pledge of Allegiance Wiki

Beards (Again)

I had to listen to some jackass tell me about how manly his beard was for five minutes today. Okay, he wasn’t talking to me, but I was at a bookstore and he was telling his girlfriend, who giggled, probably not because he’s funny, but because he has a small penis. He went on to talk about how it was epic and that it took a lot of work. What exactly is the achievement of having a beard? What exactly is the work involved? Shaving means running water, wetting and lathering your face with shaving cream, and then being careful with a razor that can skin you alive. Growing  a beard involves doing none of the above. In fact, it literally involves doing nothing. Sure, you could trim it or shape it, but you don’t actually have to. Also, there is a vague and undefined line on where a beard begins or ends. There is no definable length where you technically have a beard and not just stubble, and if beards are achievements, then just having one means that everyone who did absolutely nothing has achieved something. If there were leaders in certain categories, like the longest beard, fullest beard, oldest beard, etc. then you could say you have accomplished something, but being as the majority of people in the world will not have any of those titles, it’s a bit pointless to brag. Wearing a beanie, flannel, and growing a beard, yet not having, or knowing how to use, an ax, is a bit insulting to those who invented your style. Although it is better than the Where’s Waldo? look everyone was going for before. 

Manscapes with an ax. 

You Didn't Read It, Listen To It, Or Watch Itli

Everyone knows I want to shove hot irons into the eyes of people who always like to say, “The book is better than the movie.” Most people read the book long before it’s a movie, or before the movie comes out. Why they feel the two are comparable mediums, I’ll never know. A book is not a movie and since the portrait the words paint in your mind are going to be completely different than what you will see on screen, you should really be saying, “I didn’t imagine any of the movie when I read the book.” That gave me a headache just thinking about it, but the same can be said for tie-in novels. They’re usually fleshed out by someone who is more or less a formula writer and is getting paid a quick ten grand to crank out a novel in less than a month, solely to cash in on a movies success, only now you’re using a source that everyone has seen and has had visualized for them, and the book is almost always worse than the movie.

No one is impressed that you read a book and it makes you seem ignorant of storytelling in film when you ramble on about how much material was cut from the book to make a film that will probably take less than a few hours to watch. Let’s say you can read 250 words a minute. The average brain can only comprehend about 400, so anyone who thinks they’re speed reading is probably not comprehending shit. Back to the 250, if you read a 50,000 word novel it would take you about 200 minutes, which is longer than most films. The hunger games has twice as many words, yet the film was only 142 minutes. That’s a major differences between the two and they both serve different purposes. If you like the book better than the movie, you probably like reading better than watching movies, or you just think that reading adds a new level to how intelligent people think you are.

My real gripe is against the all-consuming. I’m talking about people who go on about every form of entertainment, books, movies, music, plays, sports, etc., acting like they’re an expert and a critic, but when you sit back you have to ask yourself, is it really possible that these people are this knowledgeable about these things? Assuming people spend 8 hours working and get 8 hours of sleep, and obviously ignoring travel time, personal hygiene, cooking, etc. you have 8 hours of relaxation time. If they really were an exceptional reader they could read two 50,000 word books a day, over 700 a year, even though most novels are a bit wordier. If we’re talking movies, assuming the average length is 90-120 minutes, you could easily watch 4 a day, so twice as many as the book readers.

I know people who make it a point to be avid in these fields, and even they do not come up with these numbers. I guess what I am saying is it’s okay to not be full of shit and have an opinion on everything, especially things you’ve never seen or heard of. In fact, your opinion means little to most on the internet, unless you have a blog with readers in 75 countries and territories, like myself.

A typical night for some people. 

Record Store Day (Was Yesterday)

I went to a newer record shop that will probably only last a little bit, because it's so small, yet tries to cover everything, but kind of fails at that. The one good thing, however, was that on RSD, they stocked up. They didn't have everything, as that is pretty much impossible, but after standing behind a short line of lumberjacks, I did manage to grab a box set, 5 albums, 5 singles, and a stack of freebies. 
That being said, I had the choice of going to a few other shops in the hopes I would find a few things they didn't have. Then I thought about how I found ten things on my list that I wanted. That's a lot, so I went back home to crawl back into bed with my throng of warm ladies. Well, it was really just one or two. The way I look at it, RSD is about not being greedy. Check eBay right now and you'll see thousands of releases selling on there for ridiculous prices, primarily bought by guys in polos who have no clue what music is and spend their weekends golfing because they think it impresses their bosses. 
Reminds me of a high-principled guy I talked to online who told me he bought an album, realized he didn't want it that bad, then sold it on eBay for the same price he paid for it, because he didn't want to be greedy. The guy who bought it from him took the same exact picture and description and put it up for auction. Personally, I would have said, "Oh, sorry, the item was damaged." Or sent him the wrong one on purpose. 

Didn't get the new Flaming Lips.

Dreams Don't Mean Anything

Or so my neuroscience professor told me about five years ago. I hope he's correct, because I had a rather strange and haunting dream last night.

My wife (I'm not married) got off the phone hysterical and told me that my father had killed my mother (they're no longer married.) That was alarming, since my father would never do that, but in the back of my dreaming mind, I knew his mental state was heavily deteriorating (it has been slowly deteriorating for years, but he's not currently bad off.) When I saw my sister, she was also hysterical and all she could tell me was that our dad had killed our mom. Somehow we shifted from her house to the house we grew up in (the one I am currently living in). I lost my sister briefly, but then headed into our parent's old bedroom to ask her exactly what had happened. She told me, speaking in my head as I moved forward, that my dad had shot my mom and that he was laying in bed with her body asking, "Isn't your mother beautiful sleeping like that?" As I finally entered my parent's old bedroom, my sister was laying in bed with my mom, whose eyes were wide open, and it was obvious she was dead because of the empty stare and blood all over the sheets. Luckily, by this time I had figured out I was dreaming, but it was still rather strange.

I don't normally have dreams like this.

Friday Hill

Consisting of members who came from less than successful music projects, this less than successful music project was part of an early, and short lived, trend where musicians were allowed to call their own shots on their debut album. In it's entirety, it pleads the case of music producers, but it's still an interesting look at true creativity without big label influence and a few songs are just as god as anything else getting airplay at the time. Original mint albums of their only release sell for around a grand. 

Banished (An Update)

It's a nice warm day with plenty of sun. I have spent it inside dealing with the people of my village, Vikingwoods, a name generated by the game. Obviously, I need to go outside and into the real world, but since I rarely play video games, I'm pretending it is a special occasion, in which I will randomly update my blog. In the rare, off chance the developer is taking note, the below happened to me today for no reason. One of my citizens decided they were going to go to a place that was inaccessible, and I had the option of letting them die, or wasting resources to get them to safety. I have taken back m stance of playing God and wanting to kill them as I please, and instead have decided to be the mayor.  

Damsel in distress.

Popiel and Hatto II (Not a Rap Group)

Wiki Wednesday is all about bringing you my interesting finds from the wonderful world of Wikipedia and I have something rather special for you today. Two entries carried the same exact theme, so I thought it best to share the similarity of their demise.
Popiel was a pre-Polish prince who ruled over the Polans and Goplans, western Slavic tribes that more or less invented Inspector Gadget. Okay, that's just an educated guess. But apparently Popiel was a cruel and unusual ruler, and I quote, "only cared about wine, women, and song." My kind of guy. As you can expect, his wife was a really hot German (fucking Germans) who was obsessed with power and manipulated her husband into doing her bidding (don't they all?) His magical number of 12 uncles decided to get rid of him, but the wife poisoned them instead. When the people got word, they rebelled, so the royal couple fled to a nearby tower. While there, they were eaten alive by a throng of menacing mice.
Hatto II was the arch-bishop of Mainz, which also made him a prince, a cruel one, possibly crueler than Hatto I, who was only struck by lightning. During a famine, the people demanded H-2 give up some of his grain, which he did, for a ridiculous price they couldn't even afford (fucking Germans again). They got pissed and organized Occupy Mainz, where five or so of them picketed, while everyone else took to Twitter and Facebook, pretending like they did something. H-2 decided to punish their ungratefulness by promising to feed all of them. They went to the barn where the food was going to be handed out, which was empty, and Hatto had them locked in it while it was set on fire. The famine was brilliantly wiped out as he remarked, "Hear the mice squeak!" When he returned home, his castle was stormed by a throng of mice, which chased him across water to a tower, where they finally found him and ate him. 
The moral of this story is that unless you're nobility or royalty, you're just a rat and they people above you must feed you, or you can eat them. Body of Christ? But with so many towers named Mouse Tower, why doesn't that Mouse Trap game have a damn tower? 

I imagine rats looked like this back in the day.

Popiel
Hatto II, Arch-Bishop of Mainz, of the Holy Roman Empire

Banished

I wish I could say that I had a productive day, but instead I woke up at 1:40 PM and then started playing a new game called Banished. I know, I'm not exactly a gamer, but when I find one that pleases some weird fantasy in my mind, I get trapped in another world. Banished is a game where you pretend you are banished from another civilization, and then you must start fresh. 
On easy mode, the one I'm playing in order to learn it, you get a small little town with houses and a storage shed. From there, you have to order your people to do things like gathering resources, or build. I start building the base structures, which are nicely laid out in the order you more or less need them. I plant some crops and trees, build a pen to put the animals in and then I'm set for a good start. Next to water? Build a fishing dock. Next to trees? Build a gatherer and hunting cabin. Throw a herbalist in there and you're good for awhile. Then you have things like the blacksmith, tailor, school, tavern, chapel, and even later buildings like a cemetery. But I've gone on long enough about what you can do. 
You cannot kill your people for pissing you off, aside from maybe starving them to death. You cannot fight and slay monsters, and so far I haven't even been attacked by anything, so I guess there isn't much fighting going on. The game's not perfect, but it was created by just one man, so if you're looking for a fun and simple game to waste several hours of your life, give this one a try. 

Banished

Size, Speed, and Time Capacity

Warning: I haven't proof read this. Okay, I normally don't proof read blog entries either. 

Music formats really piss me off. I don’t really want to get into the history of what is what, but when it comes to physical media, the entire thing is completely screwed. Currently, if my sources are correct (don’t care if they’re not) 12”, 10” and 7” records are still considered the standard formats, despite the fact that most bands do not put out 10” records. Next you have the record speeds of 33 1/3, 45, and 78 revolutions per minute. Practically all albums are recorded in 33 and 1/3, except for “audiophile” versions, which are usually 2 or more 12” LP’s that run at 45, and most 7” records are 45, yet some are also in 33 and 1/3, and of course, 78 is practically obsolete, but some people still press it. Then you have the time capacities of SP (which now means single play, and usually has two, not one, songs), EP (which still means extended play, and usually has 3 or more songs, but not enough to be considered an album in length), and the LP (which will always mean long play, thankfully.) My question is why there isn’t an actual standard in the music industry, since it is controlled by only a handful of people?

Supposedly, an album that plays at 45 rpms sounds better than 33 because the needle is getting more information passed through it. Naturally, the only problem with this is that the longer revolutions require more space, and that is why you can’t put an album out in 45 without putting it on 2 or 3 discs. I confess that it’s a bit of a pain in the ass to keep flipping anything recorded in 45, especially an entire album. Since most people can’t even tell the difference between the way each sound, we might as well eliminate 45 because it’s more of a problem for lazy music listeners, like myself, who want to sit back and relax drinking a few beers before having to flip the damn thing. The size formats are fine, but they need to be better utilized. How about SP for singles go on 7” records (which kind of sound stupid when called doubles, so the original name is fine,) and EPs all go on 10” records, and naturally, LPs go on 12” records. For any music overflow that won’t fit on one album, you could easily add one of the other formats, depending upon number of songs and length, to carry it. Additionally, record labels can run limited edition albums recorded in 45 as a way to rip people off and please audiophiles. Don’t get me started on cassettes and CDs. 

Also: I naturally own music in all formats and said formats do not bother me, but the lack of standards do. 

No. Just no.

Anti-vaccination Vaccination

I was attacked in the comments section on an anti-anti-vaccine article because I said I didn't see the problem with parents not vaccinating their kids against diseases such as influenza, because it’s their choice, and flu deaths are wildly exaggerated anyway. It was somehow interpreted that I am anti-vaccine (mine are current, so…), and their children shouldn't have to worry about getting something because some other kid was carrying it. …right, you shouldn't worry, because your kid gets vaccines, idiot. 

I have all of my vaccines, the ones the doctors told me I needed. However, the one for the flu has never been offered to me. Sure, I'm asked if I get one and always answer no. In 36 years, I've never had the flu. I could have gotten it and died, although there are probably a hundred other things that are more likely to kill me. In fact, most "flu deaths" are actually pneumonia deaths that are NOT related to the flu at all. 

But I'm moving away from my point. We have governing bodies in every civilized country that decides what is mandatory for our children. It's called democracy, and while sometimes it can be wrong, or even scary, I have faith that most of the people in these organizations are looking out for our children. When they make it mandatory for certain vaccines that pose a legitimate health risk, then we should, by law, have to listen. But when it's something that is optional, parents should have the right to make that choice and since your average Joe opinion doesn't matter anyway, get off your high horse. The only thing your flaming remarks on the internet have accomplished in the fight for vaccines is some random stranger posting a blog entry about how you're a moron. 

I support the flu shot in this case.

Another Look At SP and The McCain House

I’ve covered sleep paralysis recently as nothing more than a sleep condition that more or less scares the shit out of everyone who ever has it and how it’s exploited by paranormal shows and “investigators” who do nothing to help the sufferers but instead pretend it is some sort of otherworldly attack. Let’s entertain that “theory” for a minute.

Sleep Paralysis is possibly, as is everything, something to do with evolution. Perhaps it’s nature testing something out, trying to eliminate part of the sleep process, or kill us off in droves with shortened lifespans due to bad sleep hygiene. We are also pretty certain it’s genetic, as are most sleep disorders and disturbances, and possibly even hereditary (there’s a difference.) But outside of the physical symptoms, and even excluding the fact that most people hallucinate with it, the question needs to be asked, why are the hallucinations so similar, some identical, across people? Is the shadow or even darkness so pervasive in our subconscious as something unknown or maybe even evil that we would all share the same exact hallucination across beliefs, cultures, continents, etc.?

That’s a serious question. I have no answer. It could be anything, such as global consciousness, or inherited memories. But since I don’t know the answers, I’d like to go ahead and tell a ghost story I heard as a teen. We all know that some people have wild imaginations. Nothing wrong with that, and to be honest, their accounts of the paranormal tend to be more interesting and entertaining than what really happened, so I’ll retell the tale as I remember it being told.

The McCain house, as it was called when I was younger, was obviously inhabited by the McCain family. They were working class people, and since I didn’t change their last name, I guess I’ll be somewhat vague and not describe them individually aside from saying one of their children, Troy, was around the same age as us and that we hung out regularly. In traditional fashion, their house sat adjacent to a cemetery. Personally, I’ve always wanted to live next to one, or even in one, not because it’s cool, or out of morbid curiosity, but because it would be exceptionally quiet, especially in the city. And there house was.

They were cool parents, the kinds that let kids make their own decisions, so long as it didn’t hurt anybody, had no problem with us hanging out there on occasion, and even cooked us dinner a handful of times. Despite that, and what, by all appearances, seemed to be a healthy familial relationship among them, there was a certain gloom that hung around the house. We all have intuition and gut feelings. No one can really explain them, but some have them when around perceived haunted locations. It seemed like lot of people had them around this house. One of them was Amanda.

She didn’t believe in any of that, but she did. We were all hanging out in the living room after school one day, watching taped episodes of Headbanger’s Ball. Outside of a handful of us, only one of the McCains, our friend, was home. Within a few hours, we heard what sounded like someone walking heavily up the stairs. They were carpeted, but that didn’t stop what sounded like boots walking on wood. Everyone described them as the sound of hooves, attaching a demonic, or Satanic, image to them. Their dogs went nuts, barking at the stairs, looking at us, as if we didn’t hear it, too, but too afraid to go up the stairs. Amanda sank into the couch.

As usual, we thought Troy was messing with us, but when he looked at us, acknowledging that we did indeed hear something, he tried to change the subject by turning up the TV and talking about the video that was on. A few hours later, I walked Amanda home, just a few blocks down the street, to her grandmother’s house, where she lived. I asked her along the way if I was the only one that heard something going up the stairs. She said no, and that she hated hanging out there because they would hear that, and other strange rapping on  the walls, more or less typical “poltergeist” activity. That was the only thing I ever experienced there. But Amanda later told me a rather strange story involving the dogs.

The McCain family finally moved but couldn’t take their dogs with them at first because they had to get their yard fenced in, which required building permits and other crap they were waiting on, but expected to have completed by the end of the month. In the meantime, their dogs were left unattended during the day, watched occasionally by neighbors. In the morning, they would go and let them out, feed and water them, and then Troy would come down after school to check on them, and play with them, and have an entire house to himself, before putting them up for the night. When the new yard was completed, and it was safe enough to bring the dogs to their new home, and the McCains went to get them at the old house, the dogs were gone.

When I asked what she meant, she told me that the parents had put the dogs up the night before the fence was going up, and then the following day they returned to bring the dogs with them, but they were gone. There were no signs of a break in, but supposedly the police were called to investigate. Now while a more plausible story is that the dogs were rescued by someone else, or that even the parents gave the dogs to someone else, but with no signs of a break in, and the fact that the parents put up a fence in order to bring the dogs to the new home, it makes it a rather mysterious disappearance.

The Big 4 Of Hipster Music

No one likes hipsters. But for you to pretend that you like their music just because it's becoming popular, well, you can die now. You see, I've had the luxury of pursuing some impressive psychedelic music libraries, not people who just listen to the Doors and Pink Floyd, and any other standard band in the genre, and then clam to be experts. I'm talking about people who break out Matthew Moore Plus Four's Codyne and start talking about how sad it is they never put out a full length before disbanding. Enter hipster music.

"Have you ever heard of The 13th Floor Elevators?"

That's a typical question asked by people who are about to pretend they are hugely immersed in the psychedelic music subculture. They then list The Big 4 of Hipster Music. Here they are and why I don't like them.

1. Tame Impala

They're like making a salad. Basically, their formula consists of "borrowing" elements from every single psych band that has been around in the last 50 years and putting them in a song. Only their new pastiche sucks, so while emulating something greater, they're living up to their moniker by taking every bit of heat and soul out of the original.Tame, indeed. I personally think they should disband, but of all the Australian acts to worship, you morons pick this one. 

2. The Flaming Lips

Continuing the trend of crappy vocalists fronting folk-influenced rock bands, there isn't much difference between them and Tame Impala, aside from more females liking this band. They do borrow some cool space effects, made uncool by the fact they're borrowed and nothing original that hasn't been done ten times better since the 70's. Rest assure, those lips are made for sucking. 

3. The Black Angels

I really hate that they're on this list. Why? Because they're really talented and really have their ear to the music. Unfortunately, they're more or less a rip off of the Doors. Minus Jim Morrison. And Ray Manzarek. And John Densmore. And Robby Krieger. If they were a Doors tribute band, I'd maybe listen; they're not.   

4. The Brian Jonestown Massacre

With a name that suggests metal, and album covers and names that scream Dead Kennedy's, it's a huge shock that this one is a flower happy psych band. This band commits ALL of the transgressions of the bands listed above, and if they were more popular, I'd have listen them first, but fortunately they sound like 8 people ripping off 8 different classic rock icons. Have you added Mick Jagger to your lineup yet?

I was going to reserve this spot for a fifth band, but instead I have decided to do what the others do. I'm auditioning members for my band, The Flaming Black Impala Massacre. Every band is influenced by every sound they hear and there's nothing wrong with that. But there is something wrong with trying to sound like another band and passing it off on your own. Now had all of these bands been around in the 60's and the artists they rip off been around today, their names would be on this list, but that's not the case, because those bands were original and trying something new. Now that I've written about it, you can rip me off by stealing my suggestions.  

Break-in at the Mayleben

Just a quick rant. My house in the city has cameras around the perimeter. A security system is on full alert, once you try and enter. However, it is also guarded, when I'm there, by an Insanislupus. 
While taking a nap, someone came to the door. I could hear them talking, sounded like kids, so I checked the cameras and confirmed it was. They left the yard and then proceeded down the street on the side of the house. I noticed they were casing the place. I waited on them. Noticed about an hour later they walked by the front of my place, scoping it out. A few hours after that, they returned. Same tricks, ringing the doorbell, acting like they weren't burglars, jiggling the handle. Then one of them tried to force the window up. Safe to say, I quickly accosted them. They took off running, one obviously tripped and landed on his lip, and headed for the hills, literally. I did not call the police, and I am getting grief over that. 
The way I look at it, this was probably the first attempt at breaking into a house. It was my hope that, since the oldest one had a bit misfortune and will need an ice pack for a few days, that this will deter them from doing something like this again. It certainly would have me had I been that age. But only time will tell. If there is a next time, I won't actually let them get away.  

Find Out Your personality Type (INTJ)

Ever since getting into psychology as a field, I've been interested in the personality types. I've taken all of those fun quizzes on social networking sites that tell you if you are a dragon, Jules Winnfield, or what Pokemon you are. However, there exists several online tools that can help you assess what type of person you are and if you are a murdering psycho who likes to wear masks and kill your siblings. One of them is the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator and the other is the Keirsey Temperament Sorter. The former has a bit of criticism, since it lacks "critical scrutiny" blah blah blah, welcome to science, but it actually gives me the same results as the latter, which has hardly any criticism and is used by several big companies for self-assessment. They have other differences, but no one cares outside of testing circles. 

While I agree there are probably more than 16 personality types (MBTI) and that most won't always get the same answers across these tests, I almost always get the same one: INTJ. On some occasions, I get INFJ, which makes sense, because I can be a moody prick. But the INTJ, according to Keirsey, makes me a mastermind and I have used my abilities to get you to read my blog and I will now make you assess your own personality, slave! I also included the Big Five personality traits test, which serves as an excellent place to start, since it asks a lot of the same questions the others do. I scored a 6 in Agreeableness; lulz. 

Big Five personality Traits Test

Myers-Briggs Type Indicator

Keirsey Temperament Sorter

INTJ Wiki

Also scored a 6 in Agreeableness. 

Learn To Speak English

People from other countries worry about speaking and writing English, especially with Americans, but our literacy rates are really poor and most who speak English as a second language do so better than us. Additionally, with the exception of college students and business people, none of us go out of our way to learn your language before visiting your country, so you shouldn’t worry too much about welcoming us. I actually like learning about other countries, their language, culture, demographics, how much fluoride is in their public drinking water, etc. But in this day and age, we still have people too damn lazy to at least Google a country's name to find a little info on how not to be an asshole. 

On the flip side, we have idiots here who espouse how everything to do with (insert random country) is better than America. Some of them try and dress like they're from other countries, or correct you when you pronounce their name, preferring the original, old-country one their ancestors left behind generations ago; some rename themselves to sound imported. They usually cling to one or two news stories about how the United States is drastically behind said country. Everything we do is wrong, and in this country they have a better way. Sure, we're not the best at everything, but like all countries, we certainly try, and despite hitting obstacles along the way, we're doing pretty well over here. 

Some are even more general praise language-specific countries, because all of the Spanish-speaking ones, regardless of which, have better roads than the U.S. and all of the French-speaking ones have lower crime rates. Thanks for being specific, Santiago Martin. But I'm missing my point. When talking to Americans, don't explain that English is not your first language, since it will be apparent, and certainly don't apologize for only spending a year learning it and being able to communicate without a translator, since most of us would walk around looking for English-speaking people. Most importantly, don't pretend to be something you're not.

These people exist.

From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series

Apparently no one has ever heard of this series, or the channel it’s on (El Ray), and those few who have aren’t very fond of it. It’s better than The Walking Dead, in my opinion, because so far half the episodes haven’t focused on the cast wandering around and arguing about stupid, petty shit that no one would have time for during a zombie apocalypse. The movie has a huge cult following, and Robert Rodriguez was smart enough to realize the further potential for the series, especially among the large Latino demographic currently under-represented in television, and one that El Ray is aiming at. While similar to the film, obviously, the series heavily expands on it, adding new characters, and fleshing out the vague plot details of its predecessor.

A lot of people said they felt the initial episodes were cheap, but I didn’t really see any of that. Maybe I’m wrong? Doubt it. It’s not big budget, yet it includes some Tarantino staples, such as Big Kahuna Burger, real looking locations, from motels to bars and even convenience stores. The vehicles and costumes look nice, and honestly, the acting and pretty much everything you can think of are on par with most TV shows on similar channels.

A popular complaint is that the brothers are not like their movie counterparts.  That’s probably because they are written by different writers and played by different actors and this isn’t the movie at all. This Seth Gecko (D. J. Cotrona), formerly played by George Clooney, doesn’t have the same charisma or cool, calm demeanor, but the series also isn’t a vehicle for him to be the star, so it’s nice that he doesn’t overshadow the far more disturbed Richie Gecko (Zane Holtz), formerly played by Quintin Tarantino. George Clooney is an A-List star, so casting him in a low budget series on a startup network wouldn’t really work very well. Don Johnson adds a little star power as Texas Ranger Earl McGraw, although after the first episode he’s little more than a bunch of cameos. Lesser known Jesse Garcia plays his protégé with big shoes to fill, Freddie Gonzalez, a family man and modern perception of the knight, tracking down the Gecko brothers. Robert Patrick takes over where Harvey Keitel left off in Jacob Fuller, the missionary dad with the RV, and the subplot is less random than before. Don’t laugh, but Wilmer Valderrama, yes, Fez from That 70’s Show, plays the sinister Carlos, who is a little more than just a drug lord. Elza Gonzalez replaces the irreplaceable Salma Hayek as Santanica Pandemonium; we’ll see, but good luck with that. 

Another popular complaint is that the series is a rehash of the former plot. ……………. No shit! It’s the same damn plot, only expanded, because it’s called From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series. But the point of the series was that it had a lot of potential to use the ridiculously large Mesoamerican mythology the characters were based on. It also heavily draws on the folk saints and other newer aspects of Catholicism that are very popular in Spanish-speaking countries. It’s a really interesting culture, especially when you examine the syncretism of beliefs, and what better way than to attribute them to bloodthirsty monsters?

The book is better! Fuck off and go read it then. That was a necessary outburst since, had the film or this series been based off a book, I would also have to entertain that complaint as well. My point is, if you tune into The Walking Dead, or any other show that wastes half of the episodes doing nothing, then you should at least enjoy this, which has better writers, and better direction. It is interesting to note that outside of, I presume the United States, the show is a Netflix Original Series. 

"The guy behind me will be one of the stars of this show."

Wrestlemania XXX

There comes a time in every man’s life where he looks back and thinks, “Damn, am I really that old?”

When I was 7 years old, I watched my first Wrestlemania. It wasn’t live or even on closed-circuit TV. Instead, it was a week later, Easter Sunday, at my uncle’s house, recorded on VHS. We were stoked and it was awesome. This would be the tradition for many years. Someone would get a recording of it and we would watch it a week or two later. At that age, it was the same as being live. As a teenager, despite being poor, I was lucky enough to have all the cable channels. You might be thinking my parents were deadbeats, but no, a different uncle was. Apparently, getting free cable was a rather simple task back then, so long as you knew the right person. We had cable in four rooms of our house and four TVs, which was impressive at the time. Only one box could receive the Pay-Per-View signal, and that was in the living room. My dad would let me unhook it and take it to my room to watch it, for free. As a young adult, it was always paid for, no cheating, one of us would order it the legal and legit way. The past few years, as my friends who watched wrestling waned, I was forced to watch it at sports bars, surrounded by grown men who have way too many kids and still think the matches aren’t predetermined. In a complete regression, I will be reuniting with some old friends who I used to watch it with, now available on the WWE network. I imagine in a few years we will be back to stealing them from the cable companies with black boxes, and eventually trading tapes, too.

It’s been a long road. 

Still runnin' wild.

Why Do I Still See Orbs?

Orbs in photographs and videos are still making the rounds on websites and TV shows. Unless they're performing tricks like spelling things out in the air, I think it's safe to accept that they have been dismissed as nothing more than dust, insects, rain, etc. Just because an orb is apparently following someone or moving past them at lightning speed, doesn't give them any more credibility. Sure, you captured something, and sure, unseen forces are possibly controlling them, but it's more than likely something like gravity, or static. In short, stop with the orbs. While I'm at it, stop with all camera artifacts that are not clear and visible. 

I would like to take this time to attack people who claim orbs are a form of pareidolia. That's when you find some type of special significance in something that's not there, due to the brain trying to recognize patterns. On their own, no, they're not. It's not until people find something significant in them that they can be classified as such. Just saying orbs are paranormal is not enough. If you don't see Jesus in them, it doesn't count. I wait for the day when we realize ghosts are holograms created by aliens to confuse us, but we have nothing in favor or against that hypothesis yet, unlike orbs, which has everything against. 

The Tall Man's orbs are significant.

In The Garden Of Eden (1968)

In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida is a psych anthem from Iron Butterfly, more or less bridging the gap between psych rock and heavy metal. Some would say it's the best song from Iron Butterfly, ever, myself included. But what makes it unique in my eyes is the number of different edits that were released over the years. 

It's no secret that the song took up an entire side of their album of the same name, since one side of a 12" LP will hold about 18 minutes of music. Being a little more than 17 minutes long, it had to be cut down in order to get it out to record stations and be sold as a single. It was reduced to 2 minutes and 52 seconds. Yes, 2:53 out of 17:05. This became the initial standard 7" 45 and was released worldwide. Somewhere along the way, France, Germany, and the Netherlands got fed up and decided to add 17 seconds of music back in, releasing a 3:10 version. Take that, America! But then the European countries declared war on on each other. A 4:14 version was released by the Netherlands, a full 1 minute and 4 seconds, and soon this became standard across the continent. Then came the 4:50 vocal only version (36 seconds), I think from Germany, but I could be wrong, and then France followed with instrumental only version at 5:12 (an additional 22). I imagine it was a recording engineer who figured that a 45 could record slightly more than 4 and a half minutes of music, depending on things like bass, etc., and they decided to stretch the vinyl to the limit. Finally, the voice of reason spoke, and Spain released a Super 45 of the entire song. It was a 12" recording at 45 rpm, split in two parts, 8:53 on side 1, and 8:12 on side 2 (restoring a total of 11 minutes and 3 seconds). You know, because with a 12" record at 45 rpm, you can only squeeze about 12 minutes per side and it doesn't make any sense to record it in 33 and a third.  Did I mention the 19 minute live version? Just enjoy the damn song. 

The Fort Hood Conspiracy

There isn't one. There have been two major shootings there. Both ended with multiple deaths and injuries. But it's a military base, and both were perpetrated by soldiers. Yet no one is linking to the shootings in Norfolk, Quantico, Washington, D.C., Fort Bragg, Spokane, etc. all domestic military bases. Add to your list of bullshit that the SXSW hit-and-run asshole was from the aptly named Killeen, TX. They all must be connected somehow, right?

Of course they are. They're all cases of the mentally ill, and the biggest conspiracy here is how any administration can deny obvious problems with their troops (minus the couple of civilians who were also mental.) It's rare that someone just wakes up and goes on a killing spree. Think about how illogical it is to kill people because you can't get the help you need. That's how far these people went, almost always asking for help, and getting very little, if any. The politicians in this country, with their fancy cars, houses, dinners, lifestyles, call girls, etc. have once again failed you.

"There's been another shooting? 

I'll hold a press conference."

The Baader-Meinhof Phenomenon

This is a strange Wiki Wednesday entry in that it no longer has a Wiki page, for the fourth time. But what is it?

Well, it's a term you will now hear in the future, despite not having heard of or known of it until now. Baader-Meinhof is just that. You learn a bit of obscure knowledge, and then it seems that you see it everywhere. For example, someone in one of the very few countries where my blog is not read mentions Insanislupus' Anti-Social Club, which, since you obviously live in a cave, is an obscure reference. The following day, another of your cave-dwelling friends mention Insanislupus' Anti-Social Club, as if it was never an obscure bit of knowledge. Now this person could not have learned about it from the same source, or it doesn't count. 

And then come all the cognitive biases, none of which directly fit or apply here, try as they might, to cover something interesting up and make light of an inconsistency in our consciousness (They Live). You'll see a lot of comment geniuses with their BS about how this is similar to blah blah, i.e. it's not the same fucking thing. I completely understand why it was deleted from Wikipedia, oh, wait, no, I don't because there should be a big warning explaining that it needs credible sources. I doubt that Baader-Meinhof is a technical term, being as I have studied cognitive biases to death and have never seen it listed in a textbook, but the moment I learned about, it popped up a few times here and there. I research every term with the word phenomenon behind it, so it's unlikely I would have seen it before and disregarded it. 

The Damn Interesting Article That Tries To Explain It
Wiki (The Internet Never Forgets, Reptilians!)
A Really Long and Mildly Interesting Moderator Discussion Over the Term

I’m A Sociopath

Oh, wait, no, I’m not, but I’m really sick and tired of everyone even mentioning the term. I was reading an article in Psychology Today (one that is like a year old) where this person says that as many as 1 in 4 people are sociopaths. I don’t give a shit fi you have a PhD in every science known to man, that’s just  a bullshit statistic. Sociopath, for one, is a term that has more or less lost its meaning and is apparently thrown toward anyone who doesn’t give a shit about someone else’s bullshit, i.e. apparently 25% of the world. By that definition, I’m a sociopath, you reading this and enjoying it probably makes you a sociopath, and all of those people you meet once who don’t give a damn about you, well, they’re certainly sociopaths.

I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, leave clinical diagnosis to professionals who don’t rely on a checklist of symptoms after they have evaluated someone for ten minutes. It’s not that fucking simple and it annoys me to no end how many people come to me asking if so and so has some personality disorder. Just assume they don’t, and your assumption will probably be correct every time. My boyfriend blows up on me all the time; I think he’s bipolar. Stop being such a cunt when he needs you off his case. My girlfriend killed my rabbit and boiled it on the stove. Well, okay, maybe she should seek help. But the very nature of such things aren’t readily apparent.

You don’t take one look at someone and say, oh, they have this and this wrong with them. I’ve worked with a schizophrenic for years and up until recently, had no clue. Oh, and he doesn’t hear voices or have multiple personalities. Imagine that. I have interacted with plenty of people who I knew had mental health issues, but most of them spoke to me about it because of my background in psychology. But I also know people who pretend they have something wrong with them to cover up what they fear others might see as a shortcoming; there is nothing wrong with them, aside from a little social anxiety. You probably won’t know someone’s a sociopath until they’re long gone, and even then, your claim that they are is probably not true, and they were probably just an asshole who just got tired of your shit, and then moved on without problem.