Worryingly accurate...

Global Personality Test Results

Stability (26%) low which suggests you are very worrying, insecure, emotional, and anxious. Orderliness (33%) moderately low which suggests you are, at times, overly flexible, improvised, and fun seeking at the expense of reliability, work ethic, and long term accomplishment. Extraversion (46%) medium which suggests you average somewhere in between being assertive and social and being withdrawn and solitary.

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"Thinking meat?"

(This has been floating in the web for awhile. No worries, the author doesn't mind.)

THEY'RE MADE OUT OF MEAT

by Terry Bisson

"They're made out of meat."

"Meat?"

"Meat. They're made out of meat."

"Meat?"

"There's no doubt about it. We picked up several from different parts of the planet, took them aboard our recon vessels, and probed them all the way through. They're completely meat."

"That's impossible. What about the radio signals? The messages to the stars?"

"They use the radio waves to talk, but the signals don't come from them. The signals come from machines."

"So who made the machines? That's who we want to contact."

"They made the machines. That's what I'm trying to tell you. Meat made the machines."

"That's ridiculous. How can meat make a machine? You're asking me to believe in sentient meat."

"I'm not asking you, I'm telling you. These creatures are the only sentient race in that sector and they're made out of meat."

"Maybe they're like the orfolei. You know, a carbon-based intelligence that goes through a meat stage."

"Nope. They're born meat and they die meat. We studied them for several of their life spans, which didn't take long. Do you have any idea what's the life span of meat?"

"Spare me. Okay, maybe they're only part meat. You know, like the weddilei. A meat head with an electron plasma brain inside."

"Nope. We thought of that, since they do have meat heads, like the weddilei. But I told you, we probed them. They're meat all the way through."

"No brain?"

"Oh, there's a brain all right. It's just that the brain is made out of meat! That's what I've been trying to tell you."

"So ... what does the thinking?"

"You're not understanding, are you? You're refusing to deal with what I'm telling you. The brain does the thinking. The meat."

"Thinking meat! You're asking me to believe in thinking meat!"

"Yes, thinking meat! Conscious meat! Loving meat. Dreaming meat. The meat is the whole deal! Are you beginning to get the picture or do I have to start all over?"

"Omigod. You're serious then. They're made out of meat."

"Thank you. Finally. Yes. They are indeed made out of meat. And they've been trying to get in touch with us for almost a hundred of their years."

"Omigod. So what does this meat have in mind?"

"First it wants to talk to us. Then I imagine it wants to explore the Universe, contact other sentiences, swap ideas and information. The usual."

"We're supposed to talk to meat."

"That's the idea. That's the message they're sending out by radio. 'Hello. Anyone out there. Anybody home.' That sort of thing."

"They actually do talk, then. They use words, ideas, concepts?"
"Oh, yes. Except they do it with meat."

"I thought you just told me they used radio."

"They do, but what do you think is on the radio? Meat sounds. You know how when you slap or flap meat, it makes a noise? They talk by flapping their meat at each other. They can even sing by squirting air through their meat."

"Omigod. Singing meat. This is altogether too much. So what do you advise?"

"Officially or unofficially?"

"Both."

"Officially, we are required to contact, welcome and log in any and all sentient races or multibeings in this quadrant of the Universe, without prejudice, fear or favor. Unofficially, I advise that we erase the records and forget the whole thing."

"I was hoping you would say that."

"It seems harsh, but there is a limit. Do we really want to make contact with meat?"

"I agree one hundred percent. What's there to say? 'Hello, meat. How's it going?' But will this work? How many planets are we dealing with here?"

"Just one. They can travel to other planets in special meat containers, but they can't live on them. And being meat, they can only travel through C space. Which limits them to the speed of light and makes the possibility of their ever making contact pretty slim. Infinitesimal, in fact."

"So we just pretend there's no one home in the Universe."

"That's it."

"Cruel. But you said it yourself, who wants to meet meat? And the ones who have been aboard our vessels, the ones you probed? You're sure they won't remember?"

"They'll be considered crackpots if they do. We went into their heads and smoothed out their meat so that we're just a dream to them."

"A dream to meat! How strangely appropriate, that we should be meat's dream."

"And we marked the entire sector unoccupied."

"Good. Agreed, officially and unofficially. Case closed. Any others? Anyone interesting on that side of the galaxy?"

"Yes, a rather shy but sweet hydrogen core cluster intelligence in a class nine star in G445 zone. Was in contact two galactic rotations ago, wants to be friendly again."

"They always come around."

"And why not? Imagine how unbearably, how unutterably cold the Universe would be if one were all alone ..."

the end

600 days until Pink IC day.

And for the first time in 4 weeks, I'm staying at home on a Saturday night instead of being out with my friends.

I don't like it, but hey, who does?

So, this is what it feels to have a social life. I like it. Sure, it's a headache sometime, but it's better than that suffocating feeling of loneliness.

-ahem- If anybody wants to bring me out to roam the city and paint it pink, I wouldn't mind.....

The Meesotofreak's Patented 3-Step Heart Test

Step 1: Go to eBay.com.

Step 2: Search for "ps3"

Step 3: Take a glance at the prices being offered for the limited number of PlayStation 3 consoles available right now.

If you haven't suffered a heart attack at this point, then congratulations! Your heart is in tip-top shape!

(Although, quite frankly, if you don't get even a little heartburn after seeing those prices.....)

The after-effects of a trip to the Arts Museum...

Surfing the net, I saw something called "the most influential Art pieces of all time". Naturally, I took a glance.

This was numero uno.


That's right. A humble urinal. You know, those little things in the toilet where all you need to do is point and shoot.

It's official name is Fountain by Marcel Duchamp. My first thought obviously, "Excuse me, this is the most influential art piece of all time? All he did is grab it from a toilet, sign it and placed it on a pedestal! I may as well take a picture of my messy bed and sell that as art!" Then I read that someone already did that. Huh.

Then I started thinking about this. Obviously, this piece can't possibly be just about its aesthetics, how it looks. Because hey, a urinal's a urinal, right?

I started to wonder, what CAN be considered true Art? I mean, following Duchamp's example, I could simply take, say, an empty hangar from my wardrobe, hang it on a clothesline full of hangars with clothes and call it an example of the emptiness an unemployed person feels.

Or maybe take the wardrobe itself, open the doors to reveal the untidy mess inside and compare it to the untidy mess of its owner, and indeed, everyone around me.

Or maybe take a piece of marble, put it in the middle of a rickety stool, and say that the marble represents anybody who's at the edge of insanity. One little nudge on the stool is all it takes for the marble to fall.

Or, take this picture:


Simple picture of a mother holding her newborn. Also can be seen as a metaphor, i.e. the baby a new nation and the mother, its citizens in charge of nurturing it to survive in the world.

How about this picture:


A heavily pixellated picture of a clump of hair? Or shall we compare the hair to, say, the evil that exists in the world and the pixellation to our inability to see it, to comprehend it fully?

Or heck, this one:

(Picture, hypothesis of said picture and lame "hair-eating vampires" joke removed because the owner of the picture has threatened severe bodily harm to me for not asking permission from her first. Remember kids, stealing is bad!)

You may call any or all the above superfluous pieces which can't be considered art at all. But are you really certain? And that, I realize for me, is the point of Fountain. It makes you think, "What is Art?".

Me, I think anything can be considered art. My whole life could be considered a performance art work of immensely dull proportions. All you need is a keen eye, and some intelligence. Because you'll need them to see beyond that photo in your album which may or may not be just a simple photo of your cat eating its plate of lasagna.

Or you could make stuff up. That's what I did. That's what I suspect a lot of artists do.

All these thoughts about Fountain are my own. And you'll probably have your own thoughts too. That's the final beauty of this work, of art in general: it can mean anything to anyone, no one idea being the definitive, no one person having the correct answer. It may even mean nothing at all, mirroring the fact that our lives have ultimately no meaning, since eventually, they end. What is the point of this art piece? Ergo, what is the point of life itself?

Heh. Not bad for a piss pot.

Ah, what the heck...

My top 8 myspace friends
TOP 8 MYSPACE FRiENDS
1.:	Stephie
2.:	Bahriah
3.:	Emma
4.:	Fizah
5.:	Kera
6.:	Astrid
7.:	Ling
8.:	Anieshia
The Questions
How did you meet 6?:	The legendary MatrixMania.com
Why are you friends with 3?:	Our incurable love of Milo.
Is 7 in a relationship?:	To her ever-increasing annoyance, No.
Have you kissed 1?:	Nah. She'd probably migrate if I tried.
Have you hugged 4?:	Nope.
Have you done anything sexual with 6?:	No. (Damn you, Alex...)
Would 1 and 8 make a good couple?:	I'm sure they'll have a lovely time playing chess together.
How long have you know 2?:	My whole flippin' life.
Would you ever kiss 7?:	Probably not, I've already traumatized her TWICE.
Whats a good memory with 5?:	I'm not sure, that kick to my head from her gave me mild amnesia.
Ever hugged 8?:	Yes, sir, and lucky I did, or my head would have exploded.
Do you love 4?:	Like my own sister. Wait, that's not a good example...
Is 5 nice?:	HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA....oh, you were serious?
How did you meet 3?:	Once again, the great MatrixMania.com
Who makes you laugh?:	Why, everyone, in their own special way
Who makes you smile?:	See above.
When was the last time you saw 4?:	Hari Raya, hari yang mulia, bla bla bla
Would 3 and 6 make a cute couple?:	Would they ever! -drools-
Does 8 love you?:	I asked. She gave me a dirty look.
Do you see 3 a lot?:	In person? Not once.
Describe 4 in 3 words?:	Mrs Thom Yorke
What would you buy 1 for their birthday?:	An "I Heart Stephie" T-Shirt
Have you traveled anywhere with 5?:	I suppose a 10 minute bus ride counts.
Do you have fun with 7?:	Almost always a blast chatting on MSN with her.
Is 2 a cool person?:	In her own specially grumpy way, yeah.
Who is the loudest?:	I'd say Bahriah (probably) and Anieshia (most definitely)
Do any of them get on your nerves sometimes?:	Strangely enough, not one.
Do you know when 6's birthday is?:	Uh oh...
What do you really think of 3?:	She's a sexy sheila, she is.
Best memory with 4?:	Hmmm, nothing's jumping out. Hey, Fizah, let's go make some new memories, eh?
Does 1 even know you?:	Well, yeah!
Is 5 happy?:	Give her Daniel Ong gift-wrapped and naked and she will be.
Does 7 live close?:	If by close, you mean I can see her house from my window, then no.
Do you have any classes with 2?:	No. Probably for the best, we'd probably strangle each other if we're working on a project.
Have you and 3 ever hooked up?:	Bit hard to do that when she's 1000 kilometers away.
Are you and 8 close?:	5 years of friendship and counting!
Do you wanna kiss 4?:	If I wanted a fat lip, yeah.
Is 6 a good person?:	One of the best, mates!
Does 2 own a car?:	I'm not sure if she even wants one.
How did you choose your Top 8?:	First come, first served
Take this survey | Find more surveys Bzoink - The Original Survey Site

My mama always told me: "Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get."

I remembered that little saying as I opened a box of chocolates a firefighter got for his birthday from his girlfriend, took a bite out of one piece of chocolate and saw a cute little half-eaten worm squirming around in the chocolate. Another one of life's small ironies for you.

So this is what having money problems feel like. No thanks, I'll pass.

What do you mean there's no return policy?!