It's the rope, it's the rubbing

I have a serious thing for ethics. It’s art for analysts and science for daydreamers and all that shit, and it’s a great way to prove that whomever you are, in fact, you’re pretty stupid. So I contributed my share to the study of justice and right acts at 2 this morning when I stumbled, wasted, to my car and drove half a city block from where I was sleeping to McDonald’s. Sadly, you cannot go through the drive-through on foot. And I was really hungry. Oh, the undecidability.

My dad just got Lasek eye surgery done today. He’s laid up in bed wearing ridiculous little goggles. He can’t open or touch his eyes, and he’s pretty miserable. He’ll be miserable until… tomorrow morning? Seriously, it takes less than 24 hours for somebody’s eyes, upon being burned and gouged and sheered basically into sections like a sausage by a high-powered laser, to go from requiring 70s wire-rims that are the stuff of mockery lore, to being perfectly see-worthy. It just ain’t natural.

Not content to sit idly by and watch as my dad outpaces me in the race to ocular Valhalla, I’m thinking of getting some contacts, and, more importantly, some hipster-doofus black plastic rim glasses sometime next week. I’ve never had hipster-doofus black plastic rim glasses before, and have at times spoken out against them with the fire and fistpumpery of a red-state Bolshevist. But, I guess I’ve gone about long enough trying to keep my “individual character” and “sense of identity,” and figure it’s about time to let my defenses fall and the rest of me fall in line.

Eh? EHHHH?!?!

So this is one of my favorite anti-pop songs. But it’s anti-pop like the antichrist is to Christ or antimatter is to matter, instead of, say, the way anti-contraception is to contraception. It’s not against pop songs. It’s just the MF Doom mask the pop song sometimes wears, because if it didn’t it would go crazy. A photonegative of a pop song. Hitler said “The artists who paints the sky green and the grass blue ought to be sterilized.” Well, the Archers of Loaf ought to be sterilized. (If you’re Hitler.)

What Did You Expect?

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