Thursday, September 29, 2005

I swear by the thousand faces of God....

Blog spam. For fuck's sake.
You may notice a couple of comments in my Blog have been removed.
That's because they were sales pitches or socio-economical tracts placed by entities with blank profiles. Blog spiders.
I wanna fucking kill and eat these motherfuckers! Not necesarily in that order!! Fucking Fuck!!!

I wanna create the ultimate webspider- a hunter dedicated to finding the people who do this silly shit. It'll dig, and dig, and dig until it gets their personal information, then send that info back for phase II.

Phase II will be my own set of more traditional spiders/trolls, looking for keywords and phrases, looking for ceartain heuristic tags on forums, newsgroups and blogs across the world.

Phase III is sort of a matching service. My herd-culling software will start spamming those people who posses the requisite personality traits- that is to say, friggin psychos- sending tailored emails suggesting that they go kill the bastard spammer at X address.

See- this is the real value-added part of the deal- the spam emails are artistically tailored to the recipient. If the potential exspaminator is a rabid religious-right, uberconservative Champion of God and McCarthian Democracy (and the Michigan Militia), then the spammer is described as a flag-burning, gay Liberatarian who works in an abortion clinic and reads Mao on his breaks.

If the intended spam-smasher is a ultramilitant tree-hugging bull dyke dick-scalper, the message would completely different.

And thus, in three simple steps, spamming would become a much more hazardous proposition.

I'll set up a Pay Pal account so y'all can start donating to the fund. ;)

A scrap of detective-noir, just for fun

She stalked across the room, slinky, sexy spring steel. Watching her pissed me off. She took a seat across from me, and that really pissed me off. I didn't bother to take my feet of the desk. I waited... waited, as she drew the moment out. Waited while she took a breath high in her chest, intended to emphasize her breasts, waited as she began to part her perfect lips, waited until the split second before the words oozed out of her. Then I burst in.
"Look sister- are we sleeping together, or just dancing? I'm a very busy man- never find time to do both. Quit tryin to seduce me, and offer me a payin' job, or I'll boot your exquisite ass outta here faster than you can say 'Good evening, Mr. Winglo,' in your no doubt husky, melodic voice! Waddaya want?"
I was on my feet, leaning across the desk, nearly shouting by the end, and I gotta
say- that felt better than she could've right about then.
I'd always wanted to do that.

She'd obviously never run into such a greeting before. Watching her gape like a carp was more entertaining than watching slink across my office. She was still gaping when the shooting started.

She moved well enough when the bullets smashed through the front of my office, I'll give her that. When I snatched my shoulder rig and scooted out the side door, she stuck to me like white on rice, but managed not to tangle me up, or trample over me. I started liking her right about then.

We hit the alley and the first goon in the same moment. He shouldn't have stood so close to the door. His buddy, though, standing back a bit, started to raise his cut-down scattergun.
My .45 was faster.
The Colt barked: *BRAAP!*. The goon said something between a gurgle and a splat- didn't scan well, but you could dance to it.
The dame speaks for the first time- "What the hell was that?" she asks, indicating the shots.
I'm likin' her more every minute. "Three or four nearly-half-inch-diameter bullets," I said with a shrug.
"The Colt 1911 can't fire like that! That was like a Tommy gun!"
I shrugged again. "Tell that to my gunsmith. Let's go, toots. It's a bad neighborhood after dark," I say, ushering her down the alleyway.

Wednesday, September 28, 2005

A rant on Justice- as advertised

On Justice

I don’t even know where to begin.

I’m sick to my stomach, and I’m mad as hell, and I can’t even add ‘and I’m not gonna take it anymore’. Why? Because Dr. Phil-isms ProzacZen aside, I can’t do a single damned thing about it. So, I am gonna take it. Hell no, that’s not ok- but you know what? I can survive it, most likely. I’ll always have something to be angry about, but I’ll survive it. Probably.

In the immortal words of more folks than could ever be mentioned- ‘there ain’t no justice’. Why? Because man killed Justice with the scales of Law. Just as he slew God with the stone of Church, Man shackled and demeaned and distorted Justice to the point that it is non-existant, save through happenstance.

What is Justice, exactly?

Hell, I don’t know. I can freely admit that. I can say with some certainly that Justice is entirely subjetive, just like Truth, Belief, Freedom, et al.

But nearly any man, woman or child could tell what is not Just.

If a man steals from your home, and is caught, he is subjected to the scrutiny of the Law. Assuming the Law finds him in breach, he may go to prison, and/or pay a fine. The institute of the Law recieves said fine.

But what of your losses? How can the victim be reparated? The crime (against Justice, at least) of Insurance, of course! The victim has been paying against the possibility of such a loss. Assuming the criminal institution of Insurance deigns to return some of the victim’s ‘investment’ to recoup said losses, the Insurors are now going to up the victim’s rates- charging them for the sin of being victimized by a criminal.

Cost so far is entirely assumed by the victim. Any cost incurred upon the criminal goes the coffers of Law, which the victim also pays into in the form of taxes.

‘But I can sue the bastard!’ you cry. True. You could also lose said civil suit. At which point the victim faces further monetary losses. The system of Law can find a person criminaly guilty, but not liable for losses incurred by their crime. The inverse is also ironically true- one can be found innocent of a crime, but still liable for any harm done -not by the accused- civilly. I refer to the OJ debacle, of course.

There ain’t no Justice.

If Justice cannot be found in Law, where is one to look?

Time to pick on religion. I’ll focus on Christianity, because in fairness, I cannot claim enough knowledge of other religions to lay into them as I will the Christian churches.

Look to God for Justice! Divine Justice can be the only True Justice, anyway!

Your mother.

Setting aside my belief that Man killed God long ago, let me say this-
How can this omnipotent and omnibenevolent Creator of yours hold the child responsible for the sins of his father and pretend to even understand Justice?

If you haven’t noticed yet, I hold your God in the same contempt as I do your Law.

How can your all-loving God hold the murderer in the same regard as his/her one-year-old victim? If you can explain that, then explain where the Justice is. If the murderer of a child can find redemption in your God’s eyes, He can never be a source of justice.

How can an organization that rewrote one of it’s messiah’s companions as a whore because influential women didn’t jive with their worldview claim to know of Justice? An organization that builds lavish edifaces and encrusts itself with gold and jewels at the expense of the layman? That allows the hungry to starve, but protects it’s members who prey upon children? What can the Catholic Church know?

I’m spent. My anger has smoldered down, my heart grown too tired of this sordid topic to continue.

But remember- judge me however you like: there still ain’t no justice. Your curses will fall on deaf ears, as will your praise. Best get used to it.

Of all the wierd shit to say....

...a big shout out to UC Berkeley!
The university has some of the best and most comprehensive information on vertebrate flight that I could track down on the web.

Specifically, Chiroptera- and if you don't know what I'm talking about, you'll find out soon enough. If you do know what I'm talking about, but can't fathom why, well... you, too may find out soon.

Wierd and enigmatic enough? I think so.

Monday, September 26, 2005

The Davis House

The Davis House

The 'home blog' for the Halloween project, sponsored and driven by my dear friends Chris & Jeff.
Ongoing rennovation (also seen on the above) of Jeff's workshop has made for a bit of a trial - namely, every tool needed often demands a scavenger hunt- but morale is good and we're getting things done as industriously as ever.

Our Official Site

Our official home is still under construction, but as I know bupkis about web design, I'm blissfully ignorant of that process.

So there I was...

nah, really!
I was commenting a friend's blog, and I signed in on autopilot.
I had completely forgotten that I had this thing.