I'm thinking of a hard-core sport, something to flush out the wimps and poseurs. Extreme pogo jumping, or "expog," is becoming the extreme sport du jour among brave, innovative young men like Pierre Panoyan. In an interview before his tragic first jump near Medicine Hat, New Mexico, Pierre displayed more than a little nervousness as he told an AP reporter, "This may be a big mistake."
As it turned out, he was right.
Expog is a simple sport in theory, but it does require the use of a helicopter with an experienced pilot. The expogger is taken to a height of 3,000 feet, whereupon he or she leaps, sans parachute and holding only a pogo stick, into thin air. No parachute is used because the whole idea of ascending to such height is to slam into the ground with your pogo stick as fast as possible. Again, in theory, the expogger will bound back up to 1,500 feet, then 750, etc.
That critical part of the stunt has never been completed. All 14 people who tried are either dead or, in one case, living a machine-dependant life in a mason jar in the basement of St. Anne's Hospital in Font-du-Lac, Minnesotta. Despite that, the enthusiasts who are dedicated to Expog are a hardy sort. "We're stubborn, landing this move is the most important thing in my life," says Michael Sanders, the world's leading expogger, "...it's who I am."
UPDATE: Michael Sanders was killed earlier today in a bizarre bowling accident.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Monday, September 15, 2008
Another Monday Morning
Our unregulated market economy continues to show near fatal flaws in the absence of functioning regulation, at the very least. What we really need is to put to death, finally, the idea that a free market (laissez-faire) works. It doesn't. Now that the mortgage collapse has spread from Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac into the the banking industry, in a manner of speaking, there will be a lot of talk of the need for more regulation, or no regulation at all. Lehman Brothers is pretty much all done, and the market analysts look terrified.
I enjoy watching the stock market drop. Just as I take great pleasure in hearing about hunting accidents. A wonderful, heart-warming story to me would involve a group of stock brokers or commodities speculators out on a hunting trip together, only to end up trapped in the wilderness, forced to answer the question, "Who do we eat first?" Before they can answer the question, however, a grizzly bear breaks into their camp and tears them all to pieces. Slowly. The hunting capitalist cunts beg for merciful death as the giant bear begins to eat them alive over 28 hours of agonizing pain. Eventually, the bear poops them out near an oak tree.
What I'm trying to say is that I don't like hunters or capitalists. Yeah.
In other news, sad news, it looks like race is going to play a part in this election, moreso than any of us hoped. Race was going to be an issue, no doubt, but I was hoping against hope that as a country we would rise above it; I was wrong. If McCain wins, racism will have played a part, along with other varieties of stupid.
Obama is so far above McCain, and his ridiculous running mate, Palin. It's worth noting that the rest of the world is behind Obama. Our allies are really pulling for us to avoid making yet another stupid mistake. But we all know the reasons that Obama must win, but probably won't.
My politics are left, left, lefty left left of center. I can imagine a violent overthrow of the US government, but I'd prefer a non-violent election. There isn't any point to laughing at Bush or McCain, the jokes on us. Every "accomplishment" of these two twits represents another star in a constellation of mendacity, manipulation, deceit, cruelty, war-mongering, imperialism, classism, ineptitude and greed. Twisted and sick and in need of having their power taken away. Instead, McCain and Palin may very well be standing at the beginning of a political empire. President McCain, with his feeble mind and warped view of things. Not to mention long balls. The eventually (or pretty quickly) President Palin, which her childish attachment to gun games, annoying voice and weak (to non-existent) knowledge of...anything.
They sicken me. Obama is 100 times the human being they are together.
I enjoy watching the stock market drop. Just as I take great pleasure in hearing about hunting accidents. A wonderful, heart-warming story to me would involve a group of stock brokers or commodities speculators out on a hunting trip together, only to end up trapped in the wilderness, forced to answer the question, "Who do we eat first?" Before they can answer the question, however, a grizzly bear breaks into their camp and tears them all to pieces. Slowly. The hunting capitalist cunts beg for merciful death as the giant bear begins to eat them alive over 28 hours of agonizing pain. Eventually, the bear poops them out near an oak tree.
What I'm trying to say is that I don't like hunters or capitalists. Yeah.
In other news, sad news, it looks like race is going to play a part in this election, moreso than any of us hoped. Race was going to be an issue, no doubt, but I was hoping against hope that as a country we would rise above it; I was wrong. If McCain wins, racism will have played a part, along with other varieties of stupid.
Obama is so far above McCain, and his ridiculous running mate, Palin. It's worth noting that the rest of the world is behind Obama. Our allies are really pulling for us to avoid making yet another stupid mistake. But we all know the reasons that Obama must win, but probably won't.
My politics are left, left, lefty left left of center. I can imagine a violent overthrow of the US government, but I'd prefer a non-violent election. There isn't any point to laughing at Bush or McCain, the jokes on us. Every "accomplishment" of these two twits represents another star in a constellation of mendacity, manipulation, deceit, cruelty, war-mongering, imperialism, classism, ineptitude and greed. Twisted and sick and in need of having their power taken away. Instead, McCain and Palin may very well be standing at the beginning of a political empire. President McCain, with his feeble mind and warped view of things. Not to mention long balls. The eventually (or pretty quickly) President Palin, which her childish attachment to gun games, annoying voice and weak (to non-existent) knowledge of...anything.
They sicken me. Obama is 100 times the human being they are together.
Friday, September 12, 2008
Why Republicans Suck: The Movie
Wondering if you should vote Republican? Here are some reasons, in lovely video form.
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
Notes from Cahill
Recently, I was held in a locked facility in Cambridge, Massachusetts which was designed to hold mentally ill people. This is done, I'm told, to prevent anyone from getting hurt or dying, almost always through suicide. Homicidal behavior is extremely rare, but most of the mentally ill people are keen on committing suicide. To slip away, unseen and unremembered.
Anyhow, that's also why they have no silverware, mirrors, shower heads or any hooks on which one may hang oneself, that sort of thing. This may mean restraints, which are sort of fun, for about 5 minutes. After that, panic. For the most part, people just walk around like normal. Talk. Eat. You know.
The last time I was in one of these places, Called "Cahill House," I spent most of my free time writing like, well, a lunatic. I did most of the writing with a contraband pen. Yay for me!
Here is what I wrote one hot day in July. I told myself at the time that I'd post what I write, but I'll try to spread it out. La de da.
"Looking through any of these windows is a frustrating experience. Not because I'm trying to escape, although being here and not home is deeply upsetting. The problem with the window, however, is a thick mesh screen to keep the nuts in. The windows are also locked and barred. But that damn screen, combined with the heat and humidity, makes it well-nigh impossible to see the city teeming below. The Prudential Building is visible, but barely, because of the screen and hot-fog outside.
I'm in some sort of relaxation room, that's where you'll find the window with a view of the Pru. Keep that in mind if you're ever committed to Cahill 4. There are small plastic boxes, shoe box size, each containing seemingly random objects; sunflower seeds, rice, dry beans, sponges, that sort of thing. Tactile relaxation. If you're stressed, you're supposed to stroke some beans and feel some rice and you'll be as right as rain.
So basically I come into this room to read, because nobody is ever here feeling the beans.
The Men's dorm Shower/bathroom has a good window, but I can't linger in there. I'm in there getting raped enough as it is! Ha! A joke.
Saturday night I could spy a happy looking couple walking down the street, but briefly as I could only look out the window at an angle. He was holding a pizza box, while she laughed heartily at something, and the two of them made their way down the avenue. When she laughed, she touched the young lad's arm. From where I sit right now, it was a little cute and a little sexy, but most importantly it was real. I'm not sure why, but I'm glad I saw it. Romantic nihilism. Gosh."
Anyhow, that's also why they have no silverware, mirrors, shower heads or any hooks on which one may hang oneself, that sort of thing. This may mean restraints, which are sort of fun, for about 5 minutes. After that, panic. For the most part, people just walk around like normal. Talk. Eat. You know.
The last time I was in one of these places, Called "Cahill House," I spent most of my free time writing like, well, a lunatic. I did most of the writing with a contraband pen. Yay for me!
Here is what I wrote one hot day in July. I told myself at the time that I'd post what I write, but I'll try to spread it out. La de da.
"Looking through any of these windows is a frustrating experience. Not because I'm trying to escape, although being here and not home is deeply upsetting. The problem with the window, however, is a thick mesh screen to keep the nuts in. The windows are also locked and barred. But that damn screen, combined with the heat and humidity, makes it well-nigh impossible to see the city teeming below. The Prudential Building is visible, but barely, because of the screen and hot-fog outside.
I'm in some sort of relaxation room, that's where you'll find the window with a view of the Pru. Keep that in mind if you're ever committed to Cahill 4. There are small plastic boxes, shoe box size, each containing seemingly random objects; sunflower seeds, rice, dry beans, sponges, that sort of thing. Tactile relaxation. If you're stressed, you're supposed to stroke some beans and feel some rice and you'll be as right as rain.
So basically I come into this room to read, because nobody is ever here feeling the beans.
The Men's dorm Shower/bathroom has a good window, but I can't linger in there. I'm in there getting raped enough as it is! Ha! A joke.
Saturday night I could spy a happy looking couple walking down the street, but briefly as I could only look out the window at an angle. He was holding a pizza box, while she laughed heartily at something, and the two of them made their way down the avenue. When she laughed, she touched the young lad's arm. From where I sit right now, it was a little cute and a little sexy, but most importantly it was real. I'm not sure why, but I'm glad I saw it. Romantic nihilism. Gosh."
Monday, September 08, 2008
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