Everybody Writes for Skynet

… or why I detest reading most professional blogs these days, and decry the death of embellishment.

The drive for zealous search engine optimization often contradicts the quest for literary style. Of course, one might argue that there are certain subfields of writing where added flourish is abhorred. For example, technical writing, scientific writing and software documentation are stripped of most fanfare. Authors of such material are invited to focus on the bone-dry facts. They are encouraged to avoid use of colorful descriptions and superfluous words that might detract from the content; or worse, lend a tinge of subjectivity to the text. Blog posts are rated on usefulness and ubiquity. Vapid musings are encouraged as long as they serve as social network fodder for the blogging celebrity.

Quick and Painless Happy Meals

To today’s TL:DR generation, where novels are served in digestible 140-character tweets, the focus is on understanding content in a gestalt.

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Binary Baby Steps

wurld dominashun

Jumpstarting the dormant blog because of financial desperation. Ha-ha.

No, seriously. I’m conceptualizing the beginnings of a formal online presence. A content-heavy, SEO-flirty, business-ready powerhouse web address showcasing my profound talents in several areas: web design and development, programming, writing, photography and graphic design.

Excuse the hyperbole. After all, creative advertising is the name of the game.

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Roundup (NSFW)

Because good ideas blurted out in 140-chars need to be rehashed and expanded.

By now, anybody with a functioning cortex should be able to deduce that I talk about sex, a lot. By extrapolation, I most probably tweet about it, too. During one of my online dildo-shopping jaunts I discovered that most of these pleasure implements were made out of glass. Now, the thought of using something made of such fragile material evokes horrifying images of shredded vaginal flesh. The proprietors try to reassure me with soothing text about how Lucite, acrylic, art glass and Pyrex are “made to withstand temperature extremes and mild bumps”.

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Every Time You Masturbate, God Kills A Kitten

Finding out that Twitter serves well as a repository of blogging ideas, the shit thrown randomly around in fits of inspiration. I’m less oppressive on Twitter too. Trying to recreate that cozy feeling in my blog. I’m all unicorns and rainbows and kittehs right now. I’ll throw in a smiley here. :smiley:

I give up. I was trying to throw around a smokescreen to enable my writing disability to jump out of the window and gallop away, but it’s glaringly obvious that I’m trying too hard. Well, let me rehash for you the brilliant ideas of other people. I spent my work time dawdling on them so these ought to be worth something.

Here is one of those topics on which I am quite keen to discourse on: masturbation. They have apparently discovered a fact that I’ve chewed on for years: we humans are superior to gut bacteria because we have opposable thumbs. These opposable thumbs enable us to grasp cylindrical objects, like a rough-hewn flint tool, an aerodynamic dildo, or an erect penis. Furthermore, we are able to use these objects to enable us to derive some function out of them: in this case, pleasure through orgasm.

Masturbation. An evolutionary success that was millennia in the making. How can we repay Mother Nature for gifting us with a generous windfall?


bad kitteh

More jacking off.

The article I linked to does talk mostly about the possible evolutionary underpinnings of predominantly male masturbation. The sole purpose of which was to “throw out the old, bring in the new”. As a healthy, sexually active, self-loving (if you know what I mean) female, I admit I feel quite neglected. So a woman who pleasures herself is somehow ignored and irrelevant in the greater scheme of perpetuating the human race. On the other hand, this might make the case of women being more intellectually and sexually advanced, since they recognize the rewards of touching themselves without needing a biological imperative.

Wimmin, we have evolved.

That was just conjecture, though. You readers with balls (nice, hairy, bulging scrota. hmm) ought not to get too riled up. Bering In Mind does bring up another species trump card: male or female or whatever you are (because we refuse to be chained to the tyrannical, hypothetical social construct of gender being binary… let’s burn our bras), we are superior because we fantasize. Yes, that’s right. All the time you frittered away thinking of (name of whoever is FHM’s top babe at any given time) doing the beast with two backs with you hairy primate is actually evidence of your intellectual superiority. Apparently, monkeys, dogs, all other “lower” animals might pleasure themselves at some point, probably even to orgasm, but you can bet they aren’t doing that with this month’s Playdog centerfold on their minds.


magical optical illusion. can't tell 'em apart

OMG FURRIES… I couldn’t find a hilarious enough photo of yiffing furries, this will have to do. Because only the amazing, sublime complexity of the human mind will be able to conceive of wondrous inventions like the integrated circuit, thermodynamics, penicillin, bukkake, and yes, furries.

Archival Quality

Simmering, transparent yellow instant pancit canton noodles. Overcooked them again. Between time stove was turned on until water was boiling, the following:

Thought about digitizing my old journal entries, written in more than a half-dozen moldy notebooks, the perceptive juvenilia of a younger time. Nothing noteworthy, but at least I’d like to compile everything into a central repository, ripe for tagging, searching; past thoughts transformed into meta. Maybe I should start with the drawings and poems; I’ve done the scanning and typing heavy lifting years before.

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