Pinups for Jamie

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What makes this okay?

If you’ve spent any amount of time online you’ve probably made some people that you at least consider friends in some capacity. I don’t think that this is a problem. There’s nothing wrong with making friends online.

The real issue I wanted to bring up is why is it that people feel that its alright to lie and play games with people whom they meet online. Its one thing to lie about something silly online, that’s not what I am talking about and while it might be wrong, its something small. What I am talking about is the people who take on entire personas and play games with others, making up fake names, using fake pictures. All of this, much of the time, just to see if they can get away with it, to see if they can make themselves well loved as someone else or even to embarrass the people involved.

And often times, what is the reaction of someone who sees someone else fooled like this, “Oh well, its just the internet.”

I don’t get why no one is supposed to have feelings on the internet or where the idea of this came from. But that makes it okay to trick people?

Here You Have It

“We have studied the background of Thanksgiving day- to express gratitude to the favours of the natives of the 16th century. IN principal to express gratefulness and gratitude for favours rendered is encouraged. However, Thanksgiving being a national holiday express its salient position in the American culture, which has many unislamic values and principles. Celebrating Thanksgiving purposefully or subordinately is an expression of accepting the general American Culture. It is not celebrated independent of the American Culture. In view of the above it is not permissible to celebrate Thanksgiving Day.”

This is pretty much the kind of intolerant BS I think we are seeing far too much of when it comes to the Muslim leadership. I have to ask, why come to a country if their very way of life is against your religion. And I know some of you might think this insensitive of me (not that I care, remember that most of all) but I don’t get how you can come here, say you hate what it is to be like us in any way and that to be like us is actually against your religion and that our culture is against your religion.

The way this is written and the points it makes are that Thanksgiving isn’t bad because of anything it entails…except being a part of American culture.

Quote Source

Incubus Attack

Blog Article Originally Found Here

Jason struggled to open his eyes as the oppressive pressure on his chest became more severe. He sensed a presence in the room and felt her weight pushing down on him as he struggled to breath. As his eyes opened slightly he saw the shadowy figure above in the dimly lit bedroom. Her presence and a vague sense of dread filled him as he realized that he could not move. No matter how hard he willed his body to come to life and take protective action, nothing happened. What was happening and why? Time stretched on and his fear grew. Finally his arms and legs responded and he sat up, finding himself alone in the room and shaken by this frightening visitation. He found it difficult to fall back to sleep and wondered what had happened. Had he somehow been violated? Off and on during the next day he shuddered as he thought back on the unearthly presence he had encountered in his bed room.

Jason's experience, surprisingly, is not that uncommon and is certainly not the most dramatic report of what is sometimes referred to as an incubus attack. In this case it may be more appropriate to call it a succubus attack as that is the term used to denote the demonic female presence. This kind of experience is commonly reported around the world but with differing mythological explanations. For example, in Japan they have been referred to as kanashibari, in China as ghost oppression, and in England and America as the Old Hag. Frightening and overwhelmingly realistic, these experiences are another example of a parasomnia, specifically, sleep paralysis. They can be hypnopompic (occurring while awakening) or hypnagogic (occurring while falling asleep) and are associated with frightening imagery or hallucinations.

The idea of the incubus attack is based in the medieval lore of the nocturnal demonic visitation. In one version of this lore, the demon is able to take on both male and female human shape and potentially impregnate a woman, causing her to give birth to a demonic child. The demon would initially take on the form of a female, known as a succubus, which would mate with an unsuspecting male victim. Capturing his "seed" the demon could then take on the male form, known as the incubus. The incubus would then mate with a female victim who could be impregnated with "demon seed." This frightening explanation for these nocturnal experiences is still embraced by some today, and many people who have had this experience find the demonic explanation convincing, at least initially, because the experience is so intense and apparently real.

Other explanations have, of course, been offered. For example, an embarrassing nocturnal emission might have resulted from an uninvited demonic visitor. An unexplained pregnancy may have been explained as the result of a visit by an incubus.

The scientific explanation for the incubus attack is that the person experiences a state dissociation in which part of the mental apparatus comes to conscious awareness even as the rest of the brain is in the REM stage of sleep. The body remains paralyzed so as to prevent acting out the dream. The realization that it is not possible to move contributes significantly to the unpleasant and frightening quality of this event. In addition, a potential sexual aspect to the experience is provided by the physiology of REM sleep which causes erection in men and lubrication in women. Awakening from a frightening experience and subconsciously recognizing an erotic bodily feeling lends itself to seeing a connection between the experience, and the working of dark and evil forces. The conscious experience is a combination of dream mentation superimposed on the sensory background of the room in which the person is sleeping. Long before Hollywood perfected the green screen technique or computer graphics allowed for the easy integration of the fantastic with the realistic, the brain was able to seamlessly blend together the inner world of the dream with the outer world of sense perception during these state dissociations.

It must be emphasized that for the person who has experienced an incubus or succubus attack, the rational, scientific explanation may lack the powerful emotional force of the demonic explanation. Even for trained scientists who have had these experiences, shaking the belief of having been visited by a malignant force is very difficult. An interesting account of this may found in Ronald Siegel's book, "Fire In the Brain." Many patients seeking reassurance will agree that the state dissociation explanation makes good sense but .....

The incubus attack is just one example of what can occur during state dissociations in sleep. There is also a great deal of sleep related sexual mentation and potentially many sleep related sexual behaviors. In future posts these interesting and potentially disturbing experiences will be discussed.

A Meeting In Paris

At times the pain washed over her in such a complete way, that Jo was debilitated by it. She would spend several moments on the ground unable to move; arms clutched around her body, teeth clenched and eyes watering as she bit back the sensation. Those times were rare though. More often than not, it was totally manageable or completely nonexistent.

Tonight was one of those lucky occasions when only small aching pulses came. They were spread out sparsely over the thirty minutes that she had been waiting. Any real traffic inside the walls of the Louvre had ceased in the six hours since the building had been closed, long before Jo had arrived.

Katie had indeed picked a secluded spot, if only she could have shown up on time. Jo passed the time by wandering the grounds and examining the architecture. Here and there were hints of things she recognized from the original construction, but there were entirely new buildings too. The Palais du Louvre was the kind of thing you didn’t forget, even after two hundred and seventeen years of not having seen it.

The pain swelled inside of Jo’s head bringing with it a sound; a piercing noise that filled her skull and dulled her other senses. It morphed into a gargling, throaty sound that was part scream, part high pitched tone. As she touched her head the pain began to subside.

She blinked, letting her eyes readjust to the night air. For a brief moment her perception seemed was heightened. She could hear the slow flowing waters of Seine River and taste something in the wind that couldn’t quite be identified.

“Jo! Jo!” a voice called from near the museum proper, “I’m here Jo!” as Jo turned she could already tell by the excited and eccentric tone who it was. Katie, with one arm raised and waving, rushed over the concrete toward her. “Sorry, I’m late!” she yelled as she stumbled on some unseen obstacle and tumbled to the ground.

Jo ran to help her up, trying her best not to trip herself. She’d elected to wear heels, she really hadn’t considered that she might be running. When she reached her, Katie was already climbing up, unscathed. Jo took her hand, “You’ve got to be more careful, Sonnenschein.”

Katie’s eyes took on a child-like quality at the sound of that word, “I know,” she pulled herself the rest of the way to her feet. Brushing back the side of her bangs, Katie smiled for a moment and then pounced to embrace Jo, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Jo patted her back. “How long has it been now?”

“You were gone for—“ Katie put her finger to her lip to think, “—two years.” She held up two fingers and leaned forward indicate the amount of time passed.

“Two years?” Jo repeated, “It’s frightening how fast time just flies by.”

Another jab of pain.

Jo winced slightly and Katie stepped in closer, “Are you okay?”

What do we do?

I guess I can expect to fall off my blogging streak for a while, especially with how I feel right now. I can honestly say that its been a long time since I have hurt this bad and been this afraid for the future. What do we do when everything we put stock in is slipping away?

…

And it happens again, I’m sure that it’s me that’s the problem this time. Don’t have any way to fix it, though.

I am Jack’s Rehashed Emotion

Yeah I have really been absent a while when it comes to this. A lot has happened and its hard to see where I stand and what’s going to happen next. I don’t feel like rambling on and on about a subject that, in my own mind, has become pretty tired.

I am sure we’re all better served not becoming bored with it here too.

I think that being bored with it might be a misunderstanding. I am not bored with it, its not the kind of thing you get bored with. It’s more like you’re fed up with feeling a certain way. Bored would be nice right now, bored would be peaceful.

At the same time I feel like I am missing something, like something with another friend is wrong. Recently she’s acted strange with me and she seems like she’s mad about something but I can’t, for the life of me, tell what that is.

Why do things have to be so difficult?

Character Pics

A friend of mind drew some of my characters from our role play, I really can’t wait to see the finished product, but these are just sketches. I still love these though. I’m going to actually use these for any instances in which the characters appear.

Want and Need

Sometimes it seems we put stock in things that aren’t what we needed. Even then, we put stock in them and we worry about them as if we had needed and wanted them all along. I know want and need are different things. But sometimes the line gets so blurred you can’t tell.

More Nice Things

Cardboard Tube Knight+
Justin is cherry pie. Sweet, one of a kind, and I like it a lot.

A nice comment written about my by someone very special.

There’s Something Wrong

So I caught a glimpse of the Tyra Banks show today and they were talking to a girl who was 14 and having sex and she was talking about sneaking around and how the guys are leaving her right after. One of them was a best friend of hers and the others were just random guys and everything I am seeing here is kind of jarring because I know that fourteen year olds are having sex.

But the fact that they’re behaving in a way that’s usually reserved for adults, like the leaving and looking for feelings in boys and all of that. It just seems really soon, probably because it is and its frankly kind of scary. How do the boys learn to leave the girls like that and screw their friends over for sex at 14?

What’s more is that people out there think this is normal and shouldn’t happen and see nothing wrong with it.

Leap?

Is it ever okay to leap with out looking?

On Writing

I am learning now that you can sometimes just have a little stroke of something that I don’t want to call luck or faith, but it seems to be something you’re meant to do.

For instance, I am having issues writing and I open a book to find this:

…stopping a piece of work just because it’s hard, either emotionally or imaginatively, is a bad idea. Sometimes you have to go on when you don’t feel like it, and sometimes you’re doing good work when it feels like all you’re managing is to shovel shit from a sitting position.

True Meaning

I think that today, I learned the true meaning of love.

A Thousand Words

Try

When is trying too much to ask and when do you not have to try at all? The truth of the matter is that trying and wanting and working your hardest isn’t always going to get you anywhere. It’s not as if the world measures the amount of work you put into something and gives that back, people don’t even do that. You can do all you can for someone and its not like they will feel obligated to notice or give back as much.

That’s the nature of the world and its sad, but its true.

So how do we know where to really work and try at something? And when do we give up?

On a side note, I got Tumblr and I was going to make it a mirror of this site but I think I would rather keep it separated.

Old Time Wisdom

“It does not matter how slow you go so long as you do not stop. “

Confucius said this, I think that somehow it holds a lot of meaning where I am right now.

Destiny

There’s a number of ways you can become who you’re wanting to be, it seems that they’re all harder to do than one would think. This is why I don’t believe in destinies…one can’t be destined for nothingness. You can’t be put on the Earth to be Homeless, you’re not dropped here to be a murderer. Things just happened and people just are. That’s a simple as it can get.

I had a dream that things hadn’t changed, that life was the way I felt like it should be. Not perfect, but definitely better.

Even if I can change some of the small things, move away, start over, be who I was…I can’t take back the things that ended, the people that are gone for good, the unkind words that cause schisms. Those are burned and etched in and they don’t wash clean, though they might fade with time.

At the same time I look at relationships that were never right, chances I know I want to take but never will and things that I feel like I have no control over though others might beg to differ. Sometimes I want to think that we pretty much fend for ourselves. But I remember a time when this blog helped me to save a girls life and the fact that she’s still out there because of what some would call dumb luck, might mean we’re not put here to do something meaningful all of the time, but at times we’re allowed to.

My Party

A while back, as a joke Brandon and I were talking about what Dungeons and Dragons classes each of our friends would be. It’s pretty easy to do since all you really need is a basis of a person’s personality and the imagination to take their quirks and behaviors to the most extreme place. The joke never really got past a few laughs, but I kind of always wanted to make a little list of some I had in my head before. I’ve tried not to repeat any classes, but there’s only so many viable ones.

1. Brandon – Cleric: I think my reasoning behind this one is pretty obvious.
2. Rickey – Monk: If anyone was ever deadly with his hands, its Rickey.
3. P.J. – Sorcerer: He seems to be able to easily dazzle the Hell out of people and its probably all Charisma based.
4. Maddy – Wizard: This one involves study and intelligence above all else. If there’s anyone more dedicated to that I don’t know them.
5. Brandon B. – Bard: He’s always trying to inspire courage and every weekend he comes back from the club with some epic tale to orate to me.
6. Heather – Evangelist: When I read this class I couldn’t think of anyone else but Heather.
7. Sarah – Crusader: When it comes to being devoted to causes, Sarah makes most people I know look lackluster. This one is all about being devoted.
8. Andrew – Ranger: Come on…we used to call the guy “The Woodsman”.
9. Greg – Master Thrower: He’s clever, but clumisness gets in the way. So might as well use that to clumsiness to throw off the enemy.
10. Me – Paladin: Everyone who I have told this joke to always says this…meh
11. Landis – Blackguard: He’s my evil opposite.
12. Crystal – Rogue: Not quite because of the finesse but because of the daringness.
13. Jo – Scout: Because Jo wouldn’t have much reason to get up close in the battles when she could use her wits and stay back to fight.
14. Brenton – Barbarian: This is just because it would be funny to see him running around in animal skins and a loincloth.

Well that’s that…this might be the nerdiest thing I have posted in a while.

Cold

Well its finally cold again, which means that the weather is suitable for doing everything I love doing outside. I’ve never been a summer person, never liked the heat and never really was excited for summer besides its obvious meaning when you’re in school.

Winter has always been more my thing.

This winter, I am hoping to get a fresh outlook and start on things.

Research

I am, in part finding the research to be more and more fun and I am spending more and more time doing it. So far it has worked out pretty well and I have learned a lot. This book: Fallen Angels: Origins of Evil has been probably of greatest help to me, but I think I will need to go and track down other texts, other books excluded from the Bible and look through them.

The things I am finding are indeed interesting and I can’t help but wonder about them in the context of religion and religious history. More over I think that many of work well as a fictional story.

I have really good ideas about the direction I want to take and I excited to do it.

New Phone

Just trying to post something here, and its going to be a picture of the new phone:

It’s the Env3.

Celebrity Mouth Pieces

According to Whoopi Goldberg and some others, its okay to fuck thirteen year old girls in every way possible so long as you make a good movie and flee capture fast enough and with the aid of your loads and loads of money.

Never mind that I had little to no respect for her already, but the fact that anyone in Hollywood or even the world thinks that what Roman Polanski did should be punished in any other way than it is with all the teachers and dating couples who are two years apart.

Hollywood in this country has gotten out of hand, they’ve been out of hand for far too long. It’s time someone reminded these fuckers that they can have causes or adopted all the little brown kids they want, but they’re not above the law.

Cheerful

Thanks for helping to cheer me up, it was hard going and I really don’t think I wanted to get cheered up in some ways. But it really helped that you were there to talk to me. Thanks Jo.

Capitalism – A Love Story

Looks like resident fat fuck—Michael Moore—has made a new movie  to capitalize on the debate of the times, like he always does. Hm, does it bother anyone else at all that he is making a movie that’s anti capitalism and charging money for it? 

And honestly, why isn’t he dead yet? The man weighs more than a Scion and I can’t understand how someone’s heart can pump through all that fat.

At The End of My Rope

I don’t know what to say anymore or what to do with you. It’s obvious that we want two very different things and despite being close, both of us will always want something different. It hurts to think that I might lose my friend or that my friend might hate me because of something I said or something I did when in truth you’re the last person I ever want to see get hurt by anything.

But it seems that I get hurt more often and half the time I don’t know why or how or when it will happen and its becoming so that I don’t know what to do anymore. There are other girls, girls who would be easier to attain by far and I keep bringing myself back to their greatest flaw—they’re not you.

You might never read this, and I don’t think if you do that I am letting you know anything you don’t already know. I worry about losing you all the time. I worry that I am doing everything the wrong way and that I’ve somehow hurt you and that if I have you’ll never truly be able to trust me.

It worries me, you think you worry, but it really does worry me that you might be hurt too, you’re not the only one who worries about it. (because you said you worried about me) It worries me that you might hold back with me because you don’t want to hurt me or don’t think you can trust me with something. I feel like you don’t deserve to be your friend all of the time and that you’re going to wise up and realize I’m not worth your time and not worth the trouble of talking to or dealing with. I feel like you might start to hate me because I’m depressed or because I’m broken and I’m just too much trouble to have to take that from all of the time because no one wants someone who is pathetic around them. 

And I can’t take not having you to talk to, at least potentially. I hate to say it, but I don’t know what to with myself, I don’t trust myself to keep a clear head half of the time because I know I’m operating in a fog. I don’t see things clearly because of how I am and its really a disability because things that have nothing to do with me in my head seem like they’re all about me. My first thought it to the negative and you have to understand that, I don’t easily see myself in a positive light and when I do see myself in a positive light, I feel guilty for doing so.

But if you do see this, if I link you or you just find it, you have to know I want to be straight with you. I want you to know these things. I don’t mind if everyone else knows them. But this is hard for me, because I still hold onto something that can’t happen and because I still really want you to be my friend.

Senmurv

Taken from Cracked.com

What is it?

The Senmurv is a wolf/eagle hybrid invented, without question, by someone with a dreamcatcher hanging from the rear-view mirror of their pickup truck. Each successful attack deals 1d6 of freedom.

Where it Went Wrong:

The Senmurv is what Toby Keith becomes every full moon, and as such it fails to impress us on every conceivable level. The only thing more ridiculous than picturing this beast clawing feebly through the sky like a Technicolor ValueJet, is imagining it trying to stand upright on two hind legs never meant for the task.

Actually, more ridiculous still is imagining this beast's conception, which apparently involved a wolf, a giant tropical bird and painful screeches from within a cloud of neon feathers.

More Pictures

For Someone Special :P

Sick

So I am pretty sick, not deathly ill but the word Swine Flu has been uttered. Waiting for this whole deal to happen:

Anyway, I haven’t been writing, but I have been planning and that says something. A friend spoke with me this weekend and we talked about our writing endeavors and what we wanted to do and the like. She helped A LOT. So that’s nice.

I did want to show this little tidbit off, its something I am making for a forum Icon. It’s only part of the way done but you get the idea.

It’s going to say CTK.

Brainstorm

Looks like I finally have enough to go ahead with the writing portion of my novel and the like.

There’s still this sort of anxiety I have with going ahead and writing what I need to do, but I think it will pass with time and I really need to get out there and keep working at what I am doing. I need to dig up some of my older books and notebooks and things like that and go through them for some idea on what to do.

Seems like I have some names to make up and other things to change, but we will have to wait and see.

As for now, there is this little tidbit a friend showed me. It relates to the picture that was posted in an older entry.

We Interrupt This Blog…

Well I can’t say that I wanted to try and continue on with something near and dear to my heart, redheads…

Okay, as I was saying, I found this girl on flickr and wanted to share:

American Priorities

What can I say, I was shocked when I heard this and maybe I am a little late but:

When did it become alright for young women to hope on stage at the motherfucking Teen Choice Awards and perform an act which is generally reserved for men in strip clubs? I don’t know how far this little debauchery went, but I’m ashamed that I didn’t see more outrage that this was planned for something shown on a children’s channel.

Flash forward to a few nights ago, Kanye West’s silly outburst at the VMAs, an award show that by all accounts is little more than a mid year dick measuring contest for the music industry. An industry which seems to have for the most part lost the idea of artistry in videos.

Kanye interrupted the show to talk about who he thought should have won and on the internet and all over the media blogs he has been getting blasted for being a cruel heartless bastard. This is only months after Zach Effron releases another set of his ex-girlfriend’s nudes to the highest bidder (Effron is supposed to be a children’s star too) and no one seemed to be upset about it. In fact they all seemed to rush to gather up the nudes.

But Kanye says something on a stage, interrupts an award show and he’s bastard of the year. Where was the outrage the when this shit happened at the Teen Choice Awards? Where were the internet watch dogs when porn of a barely legal girl got passed out?  Kanye didn’t whip his dick out, slap her in the face with it, he didn’t curse and he wasn’t all that rude to her in his verbal tone or the manner of his words (even telling her he did good) but something leads me to believe if he had fucked her, took pictures and posted them online it would have been more acceptable than this.

Although someone posted on another blog that they think all of this was motivated by the fact that she is a woman and he is a man and it perpetuates this male stereotype of the controlling man. Another person on that site claimed it was racially motivated…

I can’t decide, but I would have to say, its not the big fucking deal its made out to be and I am more worried about a sixteen year old girl pole dancing for little girls all over the country to see and Zach Effron peddling his ex out as porn than someone saying a few words on a stage.

Reprint - Rain

Those last two entries were from The Requiem of Time, for those of you reading on Blogspot. People on my account on Wordpress, disregard this little part.

What am I going to post now? Well its not going to be simply a picture day, but I would like to post one:

 

I saw this girl and didn’t realize who it was…its Ashlee Simpson. I would have to say that’s a very dramatic change from when I remember her.

Now, here is a little snippet of the novel – this is from the first one in Chapter Three: Rain -

A beam of light cut through the darkened living room as Holly pushed through the front door of her loft. The side of her body was pressed flush against the door as she fought to free the keys from deadbolt. The entire building was newly renovated; things hadn’t been completely smooth with the move in.

Her front door jammed. It took her body weight to make it budge. The keys would get stuck in the lock and it could take several moments to free them. Over all it wasn’t a bad place, it just had its quirks. She spun the keys away from the wall, then back and pulled them free of the door knob.

The whole place smelled of fresh plaster, paint and lumber. She slapped her hand to the wall searching for the light switch as she slipped out of her heels and kicked them off to the side of the door. With the switch flicked the room was instantly illuminated. She scoffed at her own efforts with the moving process. She’d unpacked only the essentials in the three days since the last of her things had arrived from England.

Great towers of cellophane wrapped cardboard rose up around the room. The boxes were stacked and arranged in such a way that she could make it through the room without having to walk around anything. There were no boxes where her flat screen television hung on the wall and none directly in front of the couch.

But the kitchen table was covered in containers that were filled to the brim with cookware, dishes and nonperishable foods. She’d been too lazy to make the effort to prepare food at home, so it had suited her for the time being to eat out. She made her way through the room, her feet slipping on the smooth tile some as she walked.

As she moved past the television she cupped her hand underneath it hitting the power button. The station was tuned to the BBC, it was too late for her to catch the six o’clock news and she didn’t want to wait for the later showing.

Holly stopped next to the small counter that fenced off the kitchenette. She arched her back forward, bracing her hands against her lower back and trying to stretch. Her back gave a few short pops and then she stopped with a sigh. She undid her shoulder holster, placing the gun upon the counter with the harness still attached.

The news reporter droned on about trouble on Israel’s West Bank as she unfastened her shirt and slung it over the kitchen chair that was still wrapped in cardboard and cellophane from packing. She stood there momentarily in her tank top and examined the wound on her arm. It had already sealed up and even scabbed over to the point it was completely closed. She figured it best to remove the gauze and let it breathe now.

As she went to discard the materials that had dressed the wound the sparkle of the city out her back window caught her eye. Her dinner table was situated right next to the big window and patio she had, the patio itself hung out into the air six stories up and overlooked a prominent Houston neighborhood.

The sun set earlier, a sign of winter’s approached. The sky was already shrouded in darkness when she arrived home that night. But as she stood at the sliding glass door to the back patio she noticed for the first time the distant burning lights of the city and their beauty. Each skyscraper in the distance was only discernable because of the multitude of lights that formed its outline, like a man made constellation.

I might be back here later,

Cardboard Tube Knight