If someone here wants to go on the Survivor show with me, I've come up with a plan that would make us sure winners. The motto of the show is: Outwit, outplay, and outlast. But you and I will secretly amend that motto to include "outlive"!! Here's how it works. We'll set snares in the jungle. Then, when other players are out foraging for berries or looking for the hidden Immunity Idol, some of them are sure to step into our snares. The snares will leave them hanging upside down from their ankles. When we find them, we club them in the head hard enough to kill them, but not so hard that there will be an awful mess, as I hate bloodshed. I don't like to brag, but I'm pretty good at hitting people in the head just hard enough to knock the life out of them, but without causing much external damage. We'll club them in the head with a baseball bat which we'll whittle from a piece of log. We'll tell everyone else that the bat is for entertainment purposes, like playing baseball to help pass the time. We might actually have to play a game or two of baseball just to look legit. I don't like playing baseball, but I am willing to take one for the team here--the team of you and me. The host, Jeff Probst, is probably going to be really upset, and will probably do a lot of scowling at the tribe during Tribal Council. He's going to really be studying everyone's faces when he tells about the dead tribe-members and the camera-man. That's right, we'll also have to take out a camera-man--maybe two--because they're everywhere. And we'll have to take them from behind so as to avoid being caught on film in the area . . . Wait a minute, we don't have to worry about any camera people catching us on film. After killing them, we simply destroy the film and then bury it for good measure. Anyway, when Jeff is telling about the killings at tribal council and studying everyone's faces as he does, it would be good if you looked totally shocked. Don't faint. That might be overplaying it a bit. But if you could work on crying on cue, and maybe hugging another tribe member as if you're honestly sorry to hear about the poor bastards we take out, that would be great. Plus, I'm pretty good at looking and talking like a pure-bred psychopath. When I get alone with other tribe-members, I'll threaten to wipe out their family if they vote me off the island. I'll tell them that if they report me for threatening their families, my secret cohort--that would be you--will do the family-wiping. That will leave them and their loved ones between a rock and us! So, to further amend the Survivor motto: Outwit, outplay, outlast, outlive, and "outthreaten." How can we lose?
Well, I'm not really psychopathic. The only thing I really have in common with a psychopath is my total disregard for human life other than my own . . . and maybe yours if you decide to go on the Survivor show with me.
In all honesty, I've come to learn that I actually hate tension. So, I've decided to not go on the Survivor show and kill other contestants, and to not fight anyone anymore. I've come to the conclusion that if you don't want to experience undue tension, then don't look for things to push against, especially if you know full well that they will push back for as long as you continue to offer opposition. If you've ever watched the Kung Fu TV series, you'd see that my decision is based on sound principles extolled by the Shaolin Masters who taught young Caine. In one episode, after hearing one of his masters telling him and the other students that it is best to not fight, Caine said, "But master, what if someone is coming at me for the purpose of doing me harm?" The master replied, "First, Grasshopper, you run." I've seen martial-arts movies based on this principle, and they were b-o-r-i-n-g. The whole movie was nothing but a series of confrontations followed by camera-shots of some guy's legs running full speed to get away from his attacker. You'd really have to have a pretty intense leg fetish to get all the way through one of those movies. Anyway, Caine then says, "But master, what if I can't outrun him, and he catches me?" "Then," the master replied, "you must bind him." I haven't seen a martial arts movies based on this principle, but it would have to be even more boring than movies involving the running principle. You'd have to be into S&M minus the S to enjoy something like that. After thinking a bit, Cains asks, "But master, what if I'm not strong enough to bind him?" The master answered, "Then, Grasshopper, you must maim him." So, Caine scratches his young, bald head and says, "But master, even if it's a girl?" The master says, "Of course, Grasshopper, and even more so; a bitch is a bitch, and must be treated as such. Maim her, lest she pursue you to the ends of the earth and . . . Ok, wait a minute . . . that was another tv show I'm thinking of. Anyway, Caine asks, "But master, what if I maim him, and he keeps trying to hurt me?" The master says, "Grasshopper, you aggressive little bastard, you're just looking for a fight, aren't you? I think maybe you're needing a good ass-kicking to set you straight. . . OK, that's from another tv show, too. I'm getting mixed up here. The master really says, "Then, Grasshopper, you must kill him." After thinking a bit, Caine asks the master, "And what if I kill my pursuer, and he turns into a zombie? What then?" The master gave a heavy sigh and said, "Then, Grasshopper, you are truly fucked. Run where you will and as far as you want, but he will catch you and kill you with his teeth." Horrified, Caine looked up into his master's eyes and said, "Really?" "Of course not!" the master barked in a scolding tone. "No more TV for you, Grasshopper. It's turning you into a moron." Anyway, these are the new principles by which I am going to attempt to reduce tension. I'm a little conerned, however, because in real life, I am often caught because I'm not that fast of a runner. And since I rarely--if ever--carry any kind of twine to bind the bastard, I'll be forced to kill him. I skipped over the maiming option because . . . well . . . quite frankly, I've got more of a temper than I care to admit. But I'm working on that. And besides, maiming someone is actually counterproductive because ultimately they plot revenge. Then the stalking starts, and you're screwed. Caine was fucking travelling all the time; he didn't have an address with his name right on a mailbox like me--lucky bastard--so I have to make adjustments to the principles, like skipping the maiming part and going right for the kill.
Having turned over a new lease on life, I would like to talk about love. Perhaps there are some posters out there who would like to post something concerning the subject of love? Let me assure you, this is a safe place, and no one is going to argue with you about your ideas. Just explain your ideas concerning love, and like I said, no one is going to argue with you about it. If you're wrong, I will simply explain why you're wrong, and we'll leave it at that; that is, unless you decide to be contentious about being corrected. In that case, we'll discuss the matter further until you see the light and admit your mistake, or until one of us drops--which ever comes first. So, like I said, this is a safe place, and there's absolutely nothing to worry about. Here, I'll start us out. Suppose you're walking through the woods and you come across a live fly trapped in a spider's web, and the spider is moving in on the fly. Do you: A . Carefully remove the fly from the spider's web, doing your best to not damage the fly or the web? B. Carefully remove the fly from the spider's web without giving a damn about the web? C. Leave the fly in the web, but snap its neck before the spider gets to it, to save the fly any unnecessary suffering? D. Look around on the ground for a dead bug of some kind (at least as big as a fly). Then free the fly and replace him with the dead bug? E. Snap both the fly and the spider's neck, and then destroy the web, thus putting an end to this nightmare? F. Set fire to the woods to put a stop to all such future nonsense?
I used to believe that love is the answer as long as the question is: What is so impotent that it's not the answer to anything? Anyone agree? Disagree?
As we look out upon the world, we can see that disasters are common place. There are wars, rumors of wars, and rumors of . . . rumors. We must ask ourselves what the cause of it all is. Throughout our lives, we've all heard that love makes the world go round. So there you have it; we have identified the enemy. It's frickin' love! Now all we have to do is hunt it down and figure out a way to kill it. Any suggestions? I'm all ears! And keep in mind that you can't fight it with hate. Apparently, that's exactly what it feeds on.
You could fight love with like. Fuck the hate and the love. They set that stupid bar so high like that on purpose. Like trumps them both. And let dislike feed off of it. Dislike isn't too bad either.
None of the above, remember you are walking through the woods. I take the appropriateness of any comments in this section to be rhetorical of course.
Sometimes agreeable sometimes not so but I am devoted to whatever it is regardless. Seems I can't get rid of the stuff.
Well, since you're here, maybe you can help me with a little predicament I seem to find myself in. I've got a family reunion coming up this spring, and I'm thinking I don't really want to go. The thing is, I don't like my siblings all that much. First of all, when we were kids, they all claimed to be worth more than me. That's what my mother told them. I don't blame them for hearing it, but I do blame them for believing it and proving it every so often. Then there's my oldest sister. She did awful things to me. She once made me eat a salt sandwich--heavy on the salt, hold the bread! Then she wouldn't let me have any water. And on the advice of the older twins, she put my winter coat on me, tied my hands behind my back, and staked me out in an open field beside our property under the hot sun (it was mid-July). The rest of the kids came and they all sat under the big shade tree and drank kool-aid in front of me for two hours, though it felt like four. They all got up and left just before my mom got home from work. When she finally noticed I was missing, she hollered for me, and I hollered back so she could come help me. When she saw me, she walked out to where I was staked, and the first thing she said was, "What in the hell do you think you're doing out here? Get that coat off for christ's sake, it's the middle of summer. What the hell's wrong with your head?" I rolled over to show her that my hands were tied behind my back. "Who told you you could play with that god damned rope? And now you went and got all tangled up, didn't you?" I finally cracked. "Carol did this to me," I screamed. "And the others helped." She walked over to me, leaned down and slapped my face, which created a colorful rainbow around my head because of all the sweat that splattered into the air. "If you hadn't gotten yourself all tangled up in that rope, you would have been able to block that slap," she said scoldingly. "But no, you had to get yourself all tangled up, didn't you?" I was crying, and the tears were mixing with all the sweat, making my eyes sting really bad. "No!" I cried. "I swear they did this to me." "Why you little son of a bitch," she screamed. "You gonna lay there and accuse your brothers and sisters of something they didn't do when they're not here to defend themselves?" she said. "I'm not lying!" I pleaded. "Shut up!" she hollered. Then she said, "That's it! You're going to bed without supper right now." I said, "Well can I have some water first?" She got a twisted little smile on her face, and said, "I don't think so." Man was I disappointed to hear that. I then asked her if she would at least untie my hands so that I could pee. I really had to go. "Nope," was all she said before unstaking me and shoving me from behind all the way to the house like a fucking prisoner. Anyway, I'm wondering if I should just let bygones be bygones and let go of the past, or show up at the reunion, but only to bring a big bowl of poisoned beans. Or maybe just something heavily laced with the most potent laxative on the market. I have a lot of thinking to do. What would you do?
We could sit around and trade stories of abuse. We all have survived a less than gentile past our mammal sitting atop our brute and bumbling lizard and stress can make it seem like a good idea to eat your kids. Likewise your siblings are trying on the dimensions of what it is to seem to have a relative advantage over someone. They don't mean anything by it, although I can understand where it might be difficult to not take it personally. Even though you were told you were loved it was also suggested you fucked up in being virtual. I used to buy into their version and many times found myself being embarrassed at being alive and shyness was a constant companion because I didn't want to despoil anything. Self doubt however began to yield way to youthful discontent as I began to experience indigestion on a diet of hypocritical and sour grapes and it began to become apparent that it was all hearsay. Family reunion? Seems more like strangers rolled together in a biological die cast. Not my job to be family although it's nice to be familiar. Who are my brothers and sisters and mother, the ones that like me and I them.
You'll be pleased to know that I just pulled the frozen, poisoned beans from my freezer and threw them out into a field beside my property. I am now in the process of hunting down the receipt for all the laxative I bought so that I can get my money back.
Update: I am now watching a raccoon knawing at the frozen clump of poisoned beans I just tossed into the field. And believe it or not, the Beatle's song, Rocky Raccoon just came on the radio as I am typing this out. I don't know what it all means, but I don't think I like it. Edit: I can't find the fucking receipt for the laxatives. I believe that that's a sign from God concerning what he wants me to do. In fact, I know it is!
Storch. Don't know 'bout you, brother---but none of those fuckers would ever see me again. I mean it. In fact--I did it.
