HAHA, oh my god I just about died laughing when I read this.

I like puppies.. Who's gunna get me one? Hmm?

I think the hardest things I have ever seen and tried to comprehend have been over the closing of a casket.

There's nothing in the world like watching a lover bid their final goodbye over a cold box.

And that distinctive click of the coffin.. I hate that noise. I'm strangely comfortable with it.. but I still hate it.

Growing up I watched a large variety of cartoons. You know how parents are. Mine had two boys and a girl very close in age to deal with, so sometimes they got so overwhelmed by the situation that the boob tube as an opiate becomes quite the appealing solution. Who can blame them? Raising kids is rough.

So, my parents bought tapes from all over the place and from garage sales (rarely did they ever watch them before just popping them into the VCR). Often I get comments about why I shouldn't know about Star Trek the original series, Bealtes and the Yellow Submarine, or even these old 20's-40's cartoons with such characters as Betty Boop, Pop-eye, or even the original Superman. But why not? They are all characters I watched on a regular basis while my parents tried to keep their sanity.

Me, being an American child, didn't think much about what I watching then. Today I was wandering about You-Tube just now rewatching all the classics that I wore out on VHS and BETA, and I am truly just stunned at the level of bigotry, prejudice, racism, and political commentary that are just in these little cartoons I thought nothing of.

Betty Boop was one of my favorites as a young girl. I didn't think about much of anything except for the flexible and lively characters that moved in sync with the simple band music of the background. Hence I was highly entertained as a girl.

But this cartoon was banned, can you guess why?


How about this one?


And of course my favorite Disney character is always held in the dissonant and cowardly light.

Could you imagine if they put either Mickey Mouse as the star of this cartoon? Or Goofy? Changes the entire meaning of the propaganda.

And last but not least, something that touches a personal side for me because of my recent trip:

No wonder so many Germans are still touchy about the subject, some won't even admit to being German when they travel abroad because they don't want to hear the inevitable questions;
What do you think of Hitler?"
"Are you a Nazi?"
"Do you come from Nazis?"

Truly irritating this discovery is. Not suprising, but irritating. But it makes me wonder, what kinds of things are we bombarding our children with now? What kinds of imagery are we using to condition the growing American population?

Important question to ask I think.

Oh.. my god, this is hilarious:

Nothing says I love you like..


There's an entire website filled with excellent examples of why Superman really sucks, from issue one to even late ones like this one. It even has WWII Propaganda! Check it out and become a lover of the dark knight like myself.

So much angst.. How can one NOT love?

Io mi senti’ svegliar dentro a lo core Un spirito amoroso che dormia: E poi vidi venir da lungi Amore Allegro sì, che appena il conoscia, Dicendo: “Or pensa pur di farmi onore”; E ’n ciascuna parola sua ridia. E poco stando meco il mio segnore, Guardando in quella parte onde venia, Io vidi monna Vanna e monna Bice Venire inver lo loco là ‘v’io era, L’una appresso de l’altra maraviglia; E sì come la mente mi ridice, Amor mi disse: “Quell’è Primavera, E quell’ha nome Amor, sì mi somiglia.

I felt a loving spirit suddenly, past a long slumber, in my heart arise; from far away then Love I seemed to see, so glad, I could his face ill recognize. He told me, “Do your best to honor me,” and laughter in each word I did surmise. With my lord there, I was still eagerly watching his steps, when I, to my surprise, saw lady Vanna and lady Beatrice coming towards me, where I still was standing— one bliss pursuing still another bliss. And—here is what I am reminded of— Love said, “The first is Springtime, but the second resembles me so much, her name is Love.”

I just got an e-mail from the School magazine people. They wanted me to write a short bio with my interests in it so they could put it in the book itself. Oh, and a list of my accepted works and what inspired me to create them. So.. what exactly does one write?

This was what I ended up sending in:

I was born at a very young age, grew up, and now I'm attending SLCC for my A.A. in Humanities and an A.S. in General Studies which I'll be recieving this Spring. Depending upon who you talk to I'm either an extremely wise and old soul with knowledge beyond my years, or a young unexperienced girl making my way about the world for the first time. I'd like to think that I'm the first one (I'm prideful and stubborn like that), but I'm pretty sure I'm inbetween the two in my quest to become a better human being. My interests include researching history, reading, men that seemingly don't exist, collecting masks, techno music, the arts, stand up comedy, taiko drums and splendid conversation over a good cup of coffee. Ask me if I like philosophy and I will demonstrate the most horrified and disgusted face you have ever seen, I promise.

I am responsible for the following pieces: Troubled Angel, Busy Day, Victory, and Unrequited Desire.

Troubled Angel was a statuary piece that I found in the National Gallery of Germany in Berlin. It's an inspiring piece in person, located right next to a floor to ceiling window where the piece stares out onto the city with a sad expression. I named this peace originally "Troubled Angel of Peace" because the laurel wreath in her hand and her forlone expression. Since the world has only known a total of four years without known war or conflict, I imagine that a true angel of peace would also be holding such a symbol of power to the side and wondering why we humans continue to treat each other the way that we do.

Busy Day was taken from a laregish bridge over one of the busiest canals in Venice on my way the Rioalto Grande. I chose to take this picture because I wanted to share with others that the Venice I knew wasn't empty canals with a gondolier drifting with two masked lovers. No, indeed the entire city brims with life every day and I have never been in love with anything more than I have with Venice.

Victory, on the flipside was a set of statuary pieces that I found in the Ancient Greek wing of the Altes Museum of Museum Island. Victory, sometimes sweet and sometimes very bitter, but nonetheless a great motivator of mankind throughout the ages. Each of these pieces were actually several hundred years apart from the other's creation, but they still carry the meaning that victory holds for us today.

Unrequited Desire was a piece that I wrote for multiple reasons. We've all felt the sting of loving someone that we are certain will never return the sentiment or know of our feelings. If not, you are a lucky bastard and I can most certainly say that I've never had the pleasure of experiecing your ignorance of the subject. Some British doctors are even now working to get the condition entered as an actual physical ailment because of the multiple symptoms that take such a toll on it's sufferers. So to exorcise a demon or two I decided to write this for in fun of myself and other hopeless romantics out there that may also need to take a break and realize that perhaps it isn't the end of the world when they cannot express their love to that certain someone. With my luck I'm certain the man that haunted my dreams and heart for years will also read this and chuckle from time to time. He'll never know that it was my utter exhaustion from the feelings I had for him that inspired the piece. Kharma is a bitch like that.

Paul Van Dyk has a point.

Go out and use the voice you've been granted, the voice so many others do not have.

GO VOTE!

A very old man -George- who had been placed in a nursing home by his family was a sad case - nobody ever came to see him. One day he stopped talking and refused to leave his room. He was cooperative enough with the staff and fuctional enough to take care of himself. He continued to eat and bathe. But he became a mute recluse, sitting alone in his room in his rocking chair all day staring out the window. The staff decided he had a right to live as he wished, so they let him be.

A woman resident -Maggie- had taken an interest in George, and when he disappeared whse went in to visit with him. He didn't seem to mind, but he didn't respond either. She had started working on a quilt and over time she moved her handiwork little by little into his room. She spent her days sewing and telling her life story, while he sat staring out the window. She had been in vaudeville. She had a million stories and was very ahppy to have someone listen to her. Nobody knew what he thought. He sat and stared. She talked. Months went by.

When Maggie finished the quilt it was put on display in the main lobby of the nursing home. Everyone said it was one of the most beautiful quilts they ever saw. She was especially proud since it was the only quilt she had ever made.

The same week the quilt was finished, George passed away.

In the drawer of his nightstand the staff found an envelope marked, "To be opened when I die." The note inside said only, "Tell Maggie I love her." When they told her, she cried as if her heart would break. She had loved him too. She had made the quilt just for him.

And thats why George was buried wrapped in Maggie's quilt.

As taken from "True Love" by Robert Gulghum

Reason # 4,555,867,012 That Ferry Corsten is the Most Amazing Man Ever




Tell me, if you can, what other DJ's in the world let little girls dance up front on stage instead of the go-go promoters off to the side?