Fairy Tales -- What a Crock!!!!

when i say the word "fairy tale", what is the first word that pops in your head? quite often, the answer would be "Disney". that's too bad. for me, however, the word would be, "unfair, brainwashing desceptions, coated in sugar, shoved down the throats of unsuspecting youths by the faceless rule-makers and stereotype-setters of society." yeah, okay, word-S. whatever. but think about it; all the social insinuations, all the double standards, not to mention over-suggested caste distinctions and sexist ideals! someone needs to call them out, and if no one else dares don the shining armour of truth, i take it upon myself to desperately reveal the hidden reality of these stories.

to start with, the all-too-sweet, shiney happy fairy tales we all know today (as fed to us through modern film and other dilluted media) are but sad, malnourished shadows of the dark tales of evil and woe they once were. take "Snow White" for instance, Walt Disney's first attempt at a feature-length animation (granted, Walt was a varitable genius in the ways of film and art -- but, surely, he could've stuck to the story a bit more!); the story of an ambiguously-aged young woman who is treated unfairly by her wicked stepmother, only to be chased away by the huntsman who was to kill her, lands in a tiny cottage with seven miniscule miners who find her pretty and allow her to stay and do the cooking and cleaning they are none too keen on doing themselves, only to be tricked by the wicked stepmother who simply could not keep well enough alone and who disguises herself as an old woman with a poison apple, causing the young woman to go into a coma lasting, oh, a couple weeks at most, to be awakened by a handsome prince who happens along her glass coffin in an abandoned medow, marries said prince, leaving behind her seven former caretakers for dust and death.

dark and shallow though this tale seems, it is, as most recreations are, nothing compared to the original short story by the Grimm brothers, in which the wicked stepmother isn't so wicked to start out, but after giving birth either to a stillborn baby, or a deformed one which was promptly killed to be put out of its misery (versions dispute -- either way, they agree that she kept the corpse), she spirals into depression and, later, madness, jellous at the fact that her husband's daughter, Snow White, was still alive, well, AND beautiful. the king offers to do anything to help her become happy again, and she snaps and orders him to kill his daughter (Disney failed to reveal the fact that the huntsman was supposed to be her father). when this happens, she is only about seven or eight years old, but she stays with the seven miners (not necessarily dwarves) until she is thirteen or fourteen, as was the proper marrying age back then (a fact that still baffels me; girls that age are just getting over the fact that their skin is covered in cistuous bumps and they are bleeding from oriphaces they weren't entirely aware they had -- add the prospect of marriage and the fact that twenty was considered the age of old spinsterhood, and you've REALLY got some raging horemones...). the pig's heart that replaced Snow White's was found out, and the stepmother comes to her three times, not one, and not in a magical disguise, just an old robe and wig, the first time with a poison comb she stabs into her scalp, then with a corsit to suffocate her (both times the miners were able to save her using some type of extracting lotion and a good old fashioned knife), THEN with the poison apple (you'd think, being German, one of them would've known the heimlech meneuver before the rest of the world... huh). her coffin was made of diamond, not glass, but the origin of prince charming is still unclear. the story doesn't stop there, of course, but goes on to the wedding (where the miners were still abandoned for the royal lifestyle). Vendetta Laws are never applied in Disney films, but the Grimms depicted a rather grizley scene where the mad stepmother was forced to dance at the reception wearing red-hot iron shoes, to the point that her feet were no longer of use for the rest of her life, which was spent in exile to a swampland.

see? two totally different stories.

despite the changing of fairy tale plots to fit today's standard, certain foul distinctions remain intact, as they are the very essence of the characters within them. caste distinction, for example, is very important, as you never hear a fairy tale about a commoner, unless they become royalty in the end. and the sexist ideal, of course, is that women are helpless little chatterboxes that are exposed to situations that simply do not befit their status as women, while men are the big, strong men of mark (princes and kings, or just rich mama's boys), and are always the ones that end up saving the day, never mind where else they have been during the rest of the story. it is this stupid ideal that has girls letting the guys win, no matter what, and which sends "tomboys" and "femenists" into exile. it is also what makes so many men go mad, as the "big, strong leader" deal does not allow them to have emotions, so they snap and beat up/kill whatever they are taught to be weaker than themselves (that's why i don't mind angry girls -- as long as they're not annoying with it, i don't care how many men did you wrong, if you don't shut up i will slap the crap outa you myself! -- or crying boys, as that is a perfectly natural way to express frustration, fear, anger, worry, and, of course, sadness).

then there's my most dispised of distinctions: that of physical appearance bing synonomous with moral code. it's always a kind, beautiful maiden facing an ugly, wicked witch/stepmother/stepsister. you never hear a fairy tale about the kind, ugly maiden prospering, no matter how sweet and generous she is. and one need not be ugly to be evil, and vice versa. only recently is today's dilluted media showing stories about "pretty bitches" -- most of the antagonists are viewed as protagonists in their world, just because of physical beauty, both male and female.

my favorite fairy tale is "Beauty and the Beast" (not Disney, although that one is fairly okay -- a leading lady who prefers intelligence and imagination to beauty and social standing is something i can always support -- the fact that she ended up pretty, too, was merely a happy accident). the version i like, it starts out with the protagonist, Honour (not Beauty), being the plain-looking middle sister, absolutely nothing special about her, except for her thirst for knowledge and desire for adventure (Disney corp. got that right -- too bad Walt sr. had already died). her sisters giver her the nickname of "Beauty" as a cruel joke. one day, her father ventures through the enchanted wood toward the city to look for work, and all of Honour's sisters demand a preasent for when he comes back -- clothes, jewelrey, fashionable pets, etc. -- but when asked what she wanted, the girl who expected very little special treatment from life just asked for some rose seeds to plant a garden. the father returns some months later, completely shaken. he'd struck out in a wave of unemployment (sound familliar?) and could not afford to buy the presents his pretty daughters demanded, but did come accross an abandoned estate with some roses growing on the gate, so he thought he'd take one for his mostly-forgotten plain middle daughter, when a talking beast demanded retribution for the stolen property. so he traded the rose and a sack of rose seeds for his daughter for his daughter (yes, you read it twice, now think about it). hard worker though she was, she wouldn't get much in the way of a marriage, and they were already shelling out a fortune for her dowry (a bribe for young men to pretend to find her attractive), so she wouldn't be completely missed... so Honour (Beauty) goes to live with the Beast, who asks her every evening for a year to marry him, to which she replies, "No, Beast" -- at first because, duh, he's a friggin' Beast! then later because, even if she has come to love him, she fears herself too plain, and that he's only marrying her out of convenience, and if it were one of her sisters instead of her, he'd be slightly more eager. (how screwed up is that logic? i'm not saying i don't understand it, i probably do more than i think. but refusing becaus you think you're too ugly for the qote-unquote-"hiddeous creature"? wow.) of course, eventually, after recieving gift after magical gift (a time-travelling library with every book that will ever be written, botomless chest, a ring -- not mirror -- that shows her whatever she wishes to see), and before she can say yes, she finds that, without her hardworking help, the farm is failing, and her family's ailing, so he lets her go to them, but not before saying he would die without her.

now, if the story had stopped there (and it probably did in the Grimm's original original version), it would've become this wonderful, tragic tale of unrequited love, and that is a wonderful thing. but no. it went on until the family got fixed, but Honour remained broken-hearted at leaving her true love, no matter how fuzzy and toothy he happened to be. when her roses started dying, however, she somehow knew they were connected to the Beast, fled back to his manor, to find him almost dead when she declares her love. yeah, you know what comes next; the Beast turns into a handsome prince, which so goes against the whole point of the story, i could spit acid every time i read it! and, as if that weren't bad enough, SHE turns beautiful, TOO!!! bringing out the inner-beauty is the point, i suppose, but then they both started acting all flippant and shallow, wearing pretty clothing, and hiring servants to take on the chores the now-permenantly-deemed "Beauty" once found cathartic. and i gotta ask, what the flap, jack?!?! why? why?! WHY?!! one of the few original fairy tales with a "happy ending", and i hate it. love the story, hate the ending. it's supposed to be about transcending traditional lables, but when they find themselves in the more favored lable, suddenly leaving stereotypical behavior behind seems too much trouble...? how much more double can a standard get?! ugh.

fairy tales are read to children with impressionable little minds, and are depicted as the ideal way. girls are meant to be beautiful and perfect, whose only flaws are naiivete` and gullability, and the occasional too-good-for-her-own-good. i.e., if you are sweet and submissive, you can become a princess. on the other hand, little boys are meant to be chivalrous and tough; also cute and rich and romantic and perfect doesn't hurt. no pressure. fairy tales are the reason for the underlying psychological pressure in our society; why girls torture themselves to achieve the ideal beauty, and why boys alter their entire personality just to be the "right kind" of guy. if you don't believe me, look at any high school in existance. friggin' fairy tale characters-in-training, man! and anyone who goes against the code are shunned to the proverbial swampland.

that's where i choose to live; where wicked step-people can tell their side of the story and beauty is truely found within, where a girl can be a knight and a boy can be a beautiful poet's soul, and the endings are almost always tragic, but at least they're not false.

results to quotes that i greatly enjoy

succumbing to the minorest of pressures in my previous posts, i have posted some of my favorite quotes. congrats-a-million to Lord Semaj for quoting the most and becoming my favorite hunka chocolate. these are the exact translations of the movies/people responsible for these strings of words being strung together for my own daily use. tra-da!

1. Marilyn Monroe (poor girl, both smart and beautiful, got corrupted by Hollywood moguls to only judge herself on public opinion)

2. Jareth, the Goblin King, of "Labyrinth" (from the makers of "Muppets"! i love muppets. and, i must admit, fairy-tale type stories in which the heroine ends up strong and independant.)

3. Charlie Chaplin (freakin' comedic GENIUS! his character creation, the Little Tramp, is both laughable and loveable -- and one of the only characters in history whose rights are owned by the man who first created him!)

4. spoken by the mad wanna-be-vampire servant in "Dracula" (the one with Bela Lugosi, wonderful, delicious scrap of a Hungarian)

5. sang by the grandfather-type character in "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang" (a movie i haven't seen since i was a wee one, when cell phones were still a social commodoty... for some reason, this line has been running around in my head for weeks, so i thought i'd use it)

6. my favorite Shakespeare line (obviously Shakespearian in its phrasing) from which play i am not entirely certian... after so many, they all just sorta bleed together... not the plots, mind you, just the dialogue)

7. spoken by, obviously, inigo montoya from "Princess Bride" (another fairy-tale-type story, where the heroine does NOT end up strong and independant... but, gimme a break, i had a crush on Andre the Giant.)

8. spoken by Freddy Kruger to, duh, Nancy in "Nightmare on Elm Street" (both versions -- the original, through a phone, followed by a poorly-crafted, though hillarious, puppet toungue sticking out of the mouth piece that licks her face -- it makes me giggle -- and in the dumb-slap remake, where Nancy is pinned to a bed in a dress fit for a 6-year-old, where he just looks at her menacingly... i miss the toungue-puppet.)

9. from "O, Brother, Where Art Thou?" (watched it a million times with my biological father in place of human bonding... story lines loosely taken from Homer's "Odyssey")

10. spoken by Dracula to Mina Harker in referance to Dr. Van Helsing in "Dracula" (my beloved Lugosi version) after smashing a mirror in the lid of a cigar box, after exposing his lack of reflection.

11. spoken by Frankenstein's MONSTER to his only true friend, the Blind Man in "Bride of Frankenstein('s MONSTER)" (the calling of the monster by the name of "Frankenstein", as any loyal reader knows, really wrings my moose, man!)

12. spoken by Howard to a scientist who tells him how he can return home in the cheesey, yet fairly good, 80's flick, "Howard the Duck" (the use of puppets and costume to make Howard, as well as the sync of words to the beak all fascinate me, technically... plus, there's some pretty good music and fashion, from a Franki point of view)

13. spoken (via title card) by Erik in the silent Lon Chaney version of "The Phantom of the Opera" (my second-favorite version, headed by the original book by Gaston Leroux, and followed by the 2004 movie adaptation of Andrew Lloyd Webber's musical version -- okay, technically it's an operetta, but let's not go into that, right now.)


alright, i hope you enjoyed this reveal-come-personal explaination of my quotes of high regard!

quotes of movies that i greatly enjoy

my two followers have both done movie quote posts, and, as i cannot think of anything myself, i shall succumb to social pressure, only inasmuch as to also do one. HUZZAH! whoever gets the most shall become my favorite hunka chocolate, and shall be applauded by myself. (warning, multipal genres, not necissarily said on-screen, or spoken at all -- that's the trick!!)

1. they like me! they really, really like me!

2. unfair? you say that so often... i wonder what your basis of comparison is?

3. life is a beautiful, wonderful thing -- even to a jellyfish!

4. ratssss... all these rats i give to you...

5. p! o! s! h! posh!

6. thus i clothe my naked villainy with old odd ends and feign a saint when most i play the devil.

7. hullo... my name is inigo montoya... you killed my father... prepare to die...

8. I'M your boyfriend now, nancy!

9. well... we thought you was a toad!

10. i... dislike mirrors... the doctor will explain...

11. alone bad.. friend good...

12. yeah, i got a question. where are my pants?!

13. NO!!! DO NOT LOOK UPON MY HIDDEOUS FACE!!!



alright.... GO!!

FRANKI'S FAVORITE FILMS movie review 1: MEGAMIND

i love superhero-type movies, but hate the infallable, sing-minded corniness of movie-makers' portrayal of the heroes. i have always related more to the villains. not because i embrace evil, or whatever else the sheep of the world accuse me of, but because they are simply more interesting -- and human -- and i can see a lot of myself in them than any hero.

i am glad to see i am not the only one who thinks this; congratulations, Dreamworks productions! you have succeeded in creating not only a movie of current design i actually like, but a definite new favorite, which i will add to my profile list as soon as i publish this. i speak, of course, of "Megamind", the story of a classic villain in his persuit of besting the classic hero.

(there are NO actual spoiler alerts following, although, there very well may be in future posts of this nature; today's post is merely a teaser + behind the scenes stuff, to which i am personally addicted.... enjoy!)

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like every classic hero/villain story, despite the extreame genius of the villain's trap, the hero always manages to win at the very last second. (what is with that? granted, most of those villains are incompotent and babble their plans away, allowing the hero to learn exactly how to defeat them.... but why always the VERY LAST SECOND? surely, if you are so "super", you can get in and out with time to spare, allowing the "damsal in distress" to avoid getting, you know, too distressed... anyway, i digress...) it becomes completely routine, and no one expects any different. but what if, thanks to some freak mistake that works out in your favor, you can actually defeat the hero? what then?

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that's what happens here, to the wonderfully-flawed (starting with childhood; growing up in a prison and treated like a villain all his life -- see asch's theory of extreme environmentalism), bright blue, gangly, egotistical, maniacal (what more can a girl ask for in a man?) villain, modestly named Megamind.

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once Metro Man (a hero with no real morals or a personality to speak of) is precieved dead after Megamind's evil invention actually works, Megamind is left to run the city, playing with it as he may. unfortunately, as plotting vengance and defeat were is only hobbies, he is now stuck, a rebel without a cause, or even a clue as to how to go on.

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that is, until rarely-distressed damsel reporter Roxanne Ritchi (a leading lady who is tough, sarcastic, witty, and with a short, sassy haircut that is almost never heard of in a stereotypical superhero movie) unknowingly gives Megamind the answer to his problems.

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what happens from there is for me (and everyone who has seen the movie, whether legally or no) to know, and everyone else to find out.

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the message of this movie: it's not where you come from, but where you are going. simple, easy to remember.

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the oddness of this movie makes me very happy; an endearing supervillain, a fearless "damsal in distress", a vapid hero, and the villain gets the girl.... it's all such a strange concept, even though it's a story i'd been imagining for, literally, my entire life! there's no way i COULDN'T love it! plus some pretty good music, awesome animation, and a 3D presentation that did not go overboard, which is the folly of so many 3D films these days (seriously, some of them, i just wanna punch the producers in the head).

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Megamind is voiced by Will Ferrell, who is not really my favorite actor, but he picks some pretty good parts, and i think that says alot about an actor's character. Brad Pitt does Metro Man, and Roxanne Ritchi is voiced by Tina Fey.

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Megamind is a freakin' awesome movie, and fully encourage my blogger-buddies to see it, laugh at it, and smile when thinking about it days later. also, if either of you finds a Megamind lunchbox, buy it for your franki, and i will fully pay you back, tax and interest and hug included.

flattering profile of a maniac

when i say the word "maniac" what do you think? more often than not, one thinks of some scary, dangerous person. not so, my dear, not so! that is maniacal stereotyping, and i resent it! now, i like a maniacal villain as much, if not more, than the next weirdo, and granted, a fair chunk of the scary dangerous people in the (real) world are maniacs, but only a very few from the maniacal community actually are scary or dangerous.

but what makes a maniac? how can you tell if someone, even yourself, is a maniac? here i have for you simply a generic profile to follow and apply, keeping in mind that every individual is... well, individual, which makes the profile subjective. but look anyway, and decide for yourself if you, or someone you know, could be a maniac. if the subject in mind fits over half the criteria... possibly, darling, possibly!

when it comes to appearance, maniacs tend to look a fair deal like most everyone else, with maybe a few slight deviations (a different dress code, hairstyle, maniacal glint in the eye...). appearance-driven, maniacs can be broken into two groups: those who try to hide their mania and strive to fit in, and those who embrace the mania and rebuke the mainstream. it is usually one extream or the other, nothing in between.

behaviors are the first things to look at when pinpointing a maniac. the ones who strive to fit in (submissive maniacs) are never the first to offer a suggestion or idea to a group, however, if you were to catch them when they were alone, they would prove to have ideas and opinions so strong, it seems amazing that they would deviate for anything, especially social standard. they adopt the personas of whoever is around, and seem to change identities from group to group. again, if you were to watch them when they were alone, the personality that shows throught would appear to be a completely different person than the one you see in public. (hint: many famous politicians are submissive maniacs.)

as for the ones who strive to stand out (dominant maniacs), they show a behavior that is completely specific to their own character, each with one specific constant of their own design. their passions are evident, and it is almost impossible to get a dominant maniac to refuse them. (any type of radical extreamist is a dominant maniac.)

known to non-maniacs as "obsessions," every maniac has a specific passion that could range over a series of things. for example, one maniac's passion could be their one favorite necklace, while another maniac's passion could be for all jewelry. passions could be for places, animals, emotions, and people. no matter the passion, you can bet that, somewhere (whether in a closet, in a book, or just in their head) there is bound to be a sort of shrine built to their one specific passion -- this is a maniac staple.

in submissive maniacs, their passion is always kept secret, even if it poses no threat to their secret identity. dominant maniacs, surprisingly, while are more inclined to share their passions than the sumbissives, also tend to keep their passion quiet, in the mindset that, should they let it be known, something would either be done to themselves or their passion (especially if the passion is an animal, emotional object, or a person) that would be ultimately unfavorable.

the final contributer that is universal to almost all maniacs is what i like to call an "underdog complex". this requires the complexor to believe that the majority of the people in their surroundings are, in some way, against them. if it simply stopped there, it would be called the "high school complex", but the part that makes it an "underdog complex" is that, despite the precieved hostility, they strive to survive, and even succeed against the pain. for submissives, this means becoming the top of the socail totem pole, few true friends, but lots of substance. for dominants, this means finding a meaningful cause, clinging to it, and basically saying "screw you" to anyone who would oppose the cause. this also gets them few friends, but lots of excitement.

so, as a recap, here's a condenced profile of a maniac:

• slight to large deviation from the norm in appearance
• (submissive) agrees with the croud, seems to have no opinions of their own
• (dominant) declairs opinions loudly and emotionally
• secret "shrine" to passion
• underdog complex

now that you have learned, take this question from a writer who is, herself, a happily dominant maniac: how maniacal are you? MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! (that, my dear, was a maniacal laugh, war-cry of all the greatest maniacs)

50 questions

so here's a list of questions. answer them in your head, or, if you care, leave a comment answering a couple. i'm just filling up my time with something interesting to do.

1. what is the color of the inside of your eyelids?


2. why must we all scream for ice cream? why not whisper? why not just one or two of us?


3. who is that dastardly creature dancing through your ears at night?


4. have you ever had a reversed emotions dream (you like someone you hate, vice-versa, were killing someone you loved and were proud of it, etc.) that really screwed with your head once you woke up?


5. does the pelvic thrust really drive them insay-ay-ay-ay-ane?


6. why do villains get such a bad rep, when most of them are worlds more compelling than the so-called "protagonists"?


7. an-cay ou-yay eak-spay ig-pay atin-lay?


8. why are there no more silent films? and why are the silent films of olde being chucked left and right by people who refuse to read during a movie? what kind of monsters are they?!


9. who do you blame for screwing you up?


10. what does this look like to you?
11. tell me what you want, what you really, really want.
12. why must we prove ourselves worthy to enjoy a klondike bar?
13. what is the exact definition of the word "word"?
14. where the hell do all these cuts and bruises on my arms and legs come from, and why do they only hurt after i discover they're there?!
15. why am i repulsed by normal, even "attractive" guys, but the weird-looking ones always make me wish i were wearing a cape and mask and belting out opera, while holding a daggar to the throat of any possible competition?
16. explain that last question.
17. how would marco polo feel about his name being turned into a game that is, essentially, just an excuse to grope someone in a pool?
18. how much is that dog in the window? more importantly, has he had his shots?
19. why is "bollocks" a bad thing, but "the dog's bollocks" a very, very good thing?
20. oh, yeah?!
21. what ever became of the three mini-ballerinas whose noses i bloodied in dance class when i was a wee one?
22. what is the opposite of tuesday?
23. why do i enjoy to sniff old books?
24. who are you people?!
25. who's dumb idea was it to put braille and an earphone port on the drive-up atm?
26. what part of you says BA-BOOM!?
27. if you were being asked to lick some non-edible thing, what would it be?
28. do smurfs poop blue?
29. where do marshmellows come from?
30. are you the lemon?
31. why does bugs bunny never, ever, take that right turn at alberquerque?
32. can you smell fear, or is it just me?
33. what language do german dogs speak?
34. shall we dance? (ye be warned....)
35. who most desserves a smack on the bum at this moment?
36. do you giggle at the word "bum"?
37. what is more southerly than antarctica?
38. how much wood could a woodchuk chuck, if a woodchuck could chuck wood?
39. can you burp on command?
40. why does some champagne sparkle, while others bubble?
41. what is the longest you've gone without peeing?
42. how did vikings get their name?
43. why do mindless, evil automotons such as the jonas brothers, mylie cyrus, and that girl, justin beiber, continue to live while so many great artist are dying? can't they just break a leg, for real, or cever their vocal cords? (on second thought, cevering their vocal cords won't do much good if they're not really up on stage singing...)
44. if you were being stalked by someone you're pretty sure you'd like a lot, what would you do?
45. what perils does your future bring?
46. what perils does my future bring?
47. who invented the sock monkey, and how can i honor them?
48. why are goth-black lips banned, where slut-red lips are encouraged?
49. would you ever allow yourself to be rocked to sleep by a bouncer in a gorilla costume?
50. why am i stopping at fifty?

happy randomness

every holliday season, i look forward to watching "how the grinch stole christmas" -- not the newish one starring jim carey, although it is hillarious. no, i'm talking the dr. seuss/chuck jones cartoon where the grinch was voiced by the ledgendary borris karloff. it makes me happy, and i get quite upset when i miss out on it.

i long for the days when the meaning of "stress" was "school" and i was easy-going and free.

when i was once an old man, i could polka with the best of them, but this evil little girl and her cat stole my artificial hip, and i could polka no more...

you remind me of the babe. (what babe?) the babe with the power. (what power?) the power of voodoo. (who do?) you do! (do what?) remind me of the babe. (what babe?) the babe with the power. (what power?) the power of voodoo. (who do?) you do! (do what?) remind me of the babe.....

i love the muppets. kermit was cool, and gonzo was funny. miss piggie was an awesome sexy screwup. but my favorite always was, and always will be, sweetums, the tall, hairy troll-type monster guy who made his debut in jim hensen's "the frog prince", where he would always fall asleep after hearing his lullabye, "sweetums lay your ugly head down upon your wretched bed; bunnykins is sweet and cute, go to sleep you stupid brute." (nighty-niiiiiigght....)

i desperately wish i could play an instrument. any instrument. i have several. i got an acustic guitar, but was only taught a C chord, and it's been so long, i think i even forgot that. on piano, i can plink out single-note songs with the best of them ("ode to joy", "the addams family theme", "joy to the world", "jerimiah was a bull frog"...) but can not make it sound like i actually play. i can play a mean penny-whistle (irish flute) but that's about it. i want to play bagpipes, but in a punk rock way. ooh! or the organ! that would rock... i'd probably need to play piano first, though...

when i was just becoming a teen (like, twelve, thirteen, fourteen), and my parents were bracing themselves for the teenage rebellion (piercings, tats, hormone-induced fights, screamo played loudly), they got one, but not the one they were expecting (anti-social, weird costumes, journals documenting people's behavior, opera played loudly). i think i turned out okay.

i absolutely love sock monkeys. hint to all.

i was asked about my "dream man" the other day. it got me thinking. this is what i came up with: he must be as odd as me, or agree to let me transform him into an oddity. he has to be willing to wear a cape in public, often. he must not have too high hopes for me when it comes to dancing (or wear steel-toe shoes and football equipment when we do). it wouldn't hurt if there was hair on his chest.

i quite adore hats of just about any kind. i have over thirty of my own, and am always on the lookout for more.

for those in the know: afooglie!!!

WERE-TOBER werewolf album song list

you could say that werewolf songs are few too many. i love that phrase, because it actually makes perfect sense when you apply it: there are too many wolf-ish songs out there to list all the lyrics for (especially since most of them are instrumentals, not popular enough for a definitive post of lyrics, or lost forever like the very first werewolf movie), but there are too few actually available online. what i have is what you see. so, i have decided to end the lyric-giving here, and just offer you the song list of the ever-coveted werewolf album.

1. werewolves of london by Warren Zevon (or the remake by the Greatful Dead... they're both good)

2. hungry like the wolf by Duran Duran

3. monster by Skillit

4. can't fight the moonlight by Leann Rymes

5. bark at the moon by Ozzy Osbourne

6. she wolf by Shakira

7. of wolf and man by Metallica

8. one of these nights by the Eagles

9. monster by Lady Gaga (half-works for werewolves)

10. full moon by the Black Ghosts

11. lycanthrope (redone by multipal unpopular artists)

12. when i was a boy i watched the wolves by sunfighter

13. loup garou bal goula (cajun french: werewolf of the swamp) by Willie DeVille



alright, HAPPY WERE-TOBER, EVERYBODY!

(this post does not mark the end of WERE-TOBER; to see that, tune in to LABRATZ-R-WE)

WERE-TOBER song 7: of wolf and man by metallica

"Of Wolf and Man" by Metallica definately is not "modern" music, but the fact that i was actually alive when it was released -- albiet, only twenty-six days, but still -- makes me reluctant to brand it actual "classic rock". whatever it is, it's not bad! i can definately see myself unintentionally killing someone to this song! so, without further ado, i give you Metallica's "Of Wolf and Man"!


off through the new day's mist i run
out from the new day's mist i have come
i hunt
therefore i am
harvest the land
taking of the fallen lamb

off through the new day's mist i run
out from the new day's mist i have come
we shift
pulsing with the earth
company we keep
roaming the land while you sleep

shape shift, nose to the wind
shape shift, feeling i've been
move swift, all senses clean
earth's gift, back to the meaning
(back to the meaning) of life

bright is the moon, high in starlight
chill in the air, cold as steel tonight
we shift
call of the wind
fear in your eyes
it's later than you realize

shape shift, nose to the wind
shape shift, feeling i've been
move swift, all senses clean
earth's gift, back to the meaning
(back to the meaning) of life

(solo)

i feel a change
back to a better day
hair stands on the back of my neck
in wildness is the preservation of the world
so seek the wolf in thyself

shape shift, nose to the wind
shape shift, feeling i've been
move swift, all senses clean
earth's gift
back to the meaning
(back to the meaning) of wolf and man



well, there ya go! song number seven from the werewolf album.

HAPPY WERE-TOBER, EVERYBODY!

WERE-TOBER song 6: she wolf by shakira

i am in no way a shakira fan, but after having so many of my interviewees telling me about this song, "She Wolf", i figured, fair enough, i'll check it out. it's bad. boring, over-suggestive lyrics, and the music just sounds like everything else that's popular right now, so if i heard it again, i don't think i'd realize what it was. and the video is somewhat idiotic! sure, you have the full moon, a "transformation" (long nails, red lips, blatant sexuality... not much wolf there... could maybe get a half-million wolf calls, walking down the street in any of her four painted-on outfits), a "monster-esque" element with the cage (also a "stripper-esque" element), and a few half-flashes of actual wolves (male wolves, consequently... not she-wolves at all!). everyone should understand that this is not necissarily a werewolf song, but just uses the image of werewolves as a metephore for the duality of women and how the duality becomes more drastic the more it's somthered -- although, with the context of the singer, a docile housewife type, escaping to her wild imaginary world, conveniently located in the back of her closet, suggests a different type of duality of women than the lyrics would. however, for this occasion, i can overlook this little fact, and advise you never to watch the video or listen to the actual music, as it leaves the lyrics a lot to be desired (a hard feat, as you will soon find out). anyway, i guess i've ripped on this song enough, so without further ranting ado, i give you shakira's "She Wolf"


SOS she is in disguise
SOS she is in disguise
there's a she-wolf in disguise
coming out, coming out, coming out

a domesticated girl, that's all you ask of me
darling, it's no joke, this is lycanthrope
moon's awakening now, with eyes wide open
my body is craving, so feed the hungry

i've been devoting myself to you
monday to monday
and friday to friday
not getting enough retribution or incentives to keep me at it
starting to feel just a little abused
like a coffee machine in an office (ahoo)
so i'm gonna go somewhere closer
to get me a lover and tell you about it

there's a she wolf in the closet
open up and set her free (ahoo)
there's a she wolf in the closet
so let her out so she can breathe

sitting accross the bar, staring right at her prey
it's going well, so far, she's gonna get her way
nocturnal creatures are not so prudent
the moon's my teacher, and i'm her student

to locate a special man, i've got on me a special radar
and the fire department's hot in line, in case i get in trouble later
not looking for cute little divas or rich city guys that just want to enjoy
i'm having a very good time in the heat, very bad in the arms of a boy

there's a she wolf in the closet
open up and set her free (ahoo)
there's a she wolf in the closet
let it out so it can breathe

SOS she is in disguise
SOS she is in disguise
there's a she wolf in diguise
coming out, coming out, coming out

SOS she is in disguise
SOS she is in disguise
there's a she wolf in disguise
coming out, coming out, coming out

there's a she wolf in the closet
let her out so she can breathe



well, i did it. to all those many, many suggestions of shakira's "She Wolf", boom, officially song 6 of Franki's werewolf album, so shut up.

HAPPY WERE-TOBER, EVERYBODY!

WERE-TOBER song 5: bark at the moon by ozzy osbourne

i've never actually heard this song before my dear friend, lord semaj, introduced it to me. the song really is only half a song without the video to back it up -- which is a sort of punky rendition of lawrence talbot, the wolf man. kinda sticks with the story, kinda doesn't, (he does go to an insane asylum and kill a few people while stalking the girl, but he never becomes undead or does a dr. jekyl/mr. hyde thing), but who cares?! either way there's a fabulous man-beast werewolf in it, so definately, for reals, check out the video. now, without further ado, i give you "bark at the moon" by ozzy osbourne!


screams break the silence
waking from the dead of night
vengance is boiling
he's returned to kill the light
then when he's found who he's looking for
listen in awe and you'll hear him

bark at the moon
(ha ha ha ha!)

years spent in torment
burried in a nameless grave
now he has risen
miracles would have to save
those that the beast is looking for
listen in awe and you'll hear him

bark at the moon
yeah, yeah,
bark at the moon

they cursed and burried him
along with the shame
and thought his timeless soul had gone
in empty burning Hell -- unholy one
but now he's returned to prove them wrong
so wrong
yes he did

howling in shadows
caught in a lunar spell
he finds his Heaven
spewing from the mouth of Hell

and when he finds the one he's looking for
listen in awe and you'll hear him

bark at the moon
hey, yeah, bark at the moon
hey, hey, yeah, bark at the moon
oh, oh, yeah, bark at the moon
a-woooooooo!



okay, that was song number 5 from the entirely awesome werwolf album, not available in stores!

HAPPY WERE-TOBER, EVERYBODY!

WERE-TOBER song 4: can't fight the moonlight by leann rimes

this song is not actually about werewolves, or even really illudes to them. but, after recently watching a nestalgic film of my childhood, "coyote ugly", the song at the end, "Can't Fight the Moonlight" really made me giggle, in the mindset of lycanthrope. if it were used to reffer to werewolves, it would be the lighter side of it; being natural, giving yourself to the change, just running through the night... much more interesting than just another country love song. sure, may not be anyone's first choice as a werewolf song, country-genere'd that it is, but here you go, anyway. i give you: "Can't Fight the Moonlight" by LeAnn Rimes!

under a lover's sky
gonna be with you
and no one's gonna be around
if you think that you won't fall
well just wait
til the sun goes down

underneath the starlight, starlight
there's a magical feeling, so right
it'll steal your heart tonight

you can try to resist
try to hide from my kiss
but you know, but you know that you
can't fight the moonlight
deep in the dark
you surrender your heart
but you know, but you know that you
can't fight the moonlight
no, you can't fight it
it's gonna get to your heart

there's no escape from love
once a gentle breeze
weaves its spell upon your heart
no matter what you think
it won't be too long
'till you're in my arms

underneath the starlight, starlight
we'll be lost in rhythm, so right
feel it steal your heart tonight

you can try to resist
try to hide from my kiss
but you know, but you know that you
can't fight the moonlight
deep in the dark
you surrender your heart
but you know, but you know that you
can't fight the moonlight
no, you can't fight it
no matter what you do
the night it gonna get to you

na na na
na na na
don't try
you're never gonna win
oh

underneath the starlight, starlight
there's a magical feeling, so right
it'll steal your heart tonight

you can try to resist
try to hide from my kiss
but you know, but you know that you
can't fight the moonlight
deep in the dark
you surrender your heart
but you know, but you know that you
can't fight the moonlight
no, you can't fight it

you can try to resist
try to hide from my kiss
but you know, but you know that you
can't fight the moonlight
deep in the dark
you surrender your heart
but you know, don't you know that you
can't fight the moonlight
no, you can't fight it
it's gonna get to your heart


ok, a little silly, not really what we're going for, i admit. but, really, put yourself in a werewolf mind set, then i dare you to go through this song, no music, as a dramatic reading, with a completely straight face. dramatic reading, do not laugh. go ahead, i'll wait for ya.

...

see, wasn't that stupidly fun?

okay, HAPPY WERE-TOBER, EVERYBODY!

WERE-TOBER song 3: monster by skillet

today's song, "Monster" by skillet, doesn't directly refer to werewolves, but the lyrical insinuation is enough. skillet is a once-christian-rock band come mainstream. under normal circumstances, this would cause me to lose all respect for a band, however, i realize this great song may not have come into existance had they remained a religious label. it's sort of a bleak outlook, but you really have to hear it to like it. so, without further ado, i give you skillet's "Monster"!

this secret side of me, i never let you see
i keep it caged but i can't control it
so stay away from me, the beast is ugly
i feel the rage and i just can't hold it

it's scratching on the walls, in the closet, in the halls
it comes awake and i can't control it
hiding under the bed, in my body, in my heat
why won't somebody come and save me from this, make it end?

i feel it deep within, it's just beneath the skin
i must confess that i feel like a monster
i hate what i've become, the nightmare's just begun
i must confess that i feel like a monster

i, i feel like a monster!
i, i feel like a monster!

my secret side i keep hid under lock and key
i keep it caged but i can't control it
'cause if i let him him out he'll tear me up, break me down
why won't somebody come and save me from this, make it end?

i feel it deep within, it's just beneath the skin
i must confess that i feel like a monster
i hate what i've become, the nightmare's just begun
i must confess that i feel like a monster

i feel it deep within, it's just beneath the skin
i must confess that i feel like a monster
i, i feel like a monster!
i, i feel like a monster!

it's hiding in the dark, it's teeth are razor sharp
there's no escape for me, it wants my soul, it wants my heart
no one can hear me scream, maybe it's just a dream
i must confess that i feel like a monster

i feel it deep within, it's just beneath the skin
i must confess that i feel like a monster
i've gotta lose control, he's something radical
i must confess that i feel like a monster

i, i feel like a monster!
i, i feel like a monster!
i, i feel like a monster!
i, i feel like a monster!


well, there ya go, song number 3 from the never-popular werewolf album!

HAPPY WERE-TOBER, EVERYBODY!

BELA LUGOSI: the man we'd go necropheliac for

we interrupt of this WERE-TOBER to bring you a personal message from Franki: the subject being one of the greatest geniuses in horror history!

(Bela Lugosi as a regular dude -- as regular as a guy can be, with those eyes and that delicious voice!)

in 1931, the hungarian actor, Bela Lugosi, made history by starring in the official film adaptation of bram stoker's "Dracula" as, who else?, Count Dracula! (this story had been produced before, in the german expressionism film "Nosferatu", when Max Shreck played Count Dracula, under the publicized guise of "Count Orlock," because the film makers failed to get the rights to the actual story from mrs. stoker)

"listen to them... children of the night... what music they make!"

Bela Lugosi as Dracula set the standard of the vampire.

the accent above all: the first vampire to be caught on film with actual sound had a hungarian accent (ranked quite high on my list of desirable accents; just one below scottish), and this just became the way all vampires talked.

he also changed the way the world thought about the vampire: the creatures that had once been frightful, hiddeous, and undesirable were made charasmatic, romantic, with the dreadfully subtle maniacle madness that gives girls with a bad boy complex a sugar high, no matter what era they live in, and i speak from personal experience.

in fact, due to the new vampiric image, Bela Lugosi is the main reason we have all these vampire romances today. this pathetic "edward" creature would not be the "attractive", brooding piece of work he is today if all vampire films had gone the way of "Nosferatu" -- can you imagine some angsty teen tearing her heart out over a strange, bald, rat-man? other than me, i mean? there would be no "edward" creature, because there would not have been the charasmatic vampires of old! (on that note, the standard that had been set by Bela Lugosi is being walked all over by new standard, as set by the "edward" creature -- all sparkles and brooding love, none of the maniacal gothism of the golden age, as set forth by the true king of the vampires!)

anyhoozle, Bela Lugosi, although most famous for his revolutionary role as Count Dracula (a roll he loved so much, he requested to be burried in his costume when he died -- Vincent Price, in attendance, suggested ramming a stake into his heart... you know, just in case...), he played many other roles in his life, including that of Frankenstein's monster in "Frankenstein meets the Wolf Man" (after some dispute about whether he turned down the role in the first three movies, or simply got replaced by boris karloff), and the original Ygor in "Son of Frankenstein." he had been typecasted as a horror villain in countless B-movies, replaced as protagonists in multipal movies of all callibur, and starred in broadway shows (including the stage adaptation of the film adaptation of bram stoker's "Dracula" -- golly, i wish i could've lived back then and gotten tickets to that! so freakin' awesome, man!).

except for lord semaj, (of www.therealmofnerdum.blogspot.com , check it out, man), you, dear reader, may be wondering why i'm even talking about this guy. he wasn't even born in the same century as me, so what effect should he have on my (or your) life? and, above all, why bother talking Dracula when i'm such a werewolf fan?

here's the deal: just because i prefer werewolves, that doesn't mean i can't spot a quality vampire. i knew the great quality of Bela Lugosi's contribution to the porphyriacally-obsessed seven years ago, when i'd first seen the movie (and last seen, actually, untill last night's midnight viewing with lord semaj -- that's how i know he does not wonder what you wonder!) in fact, i recognised his genius even before i knew exactly what a werewolf was! my obsessions darted all over the place before seeing "Dracula" (more so than even today), and the image was so fantastic, i couldn't help but foccus all my energy for a whole month on everything that made a classic vampire. i did hours and hours of recreational research (learning more than any 12-year-old should about the supernatural), and dozens of drawings and designs, made two good costumes, and even got away with wearing one to school on halloween.

(funny story: i was just going to come as Dracula, but the people upstairs decided it would be better that kids come dressed up as celebrities, instead of cool stuff. ick. but, i guess i owe them, because if i hadn't done one last string of research as a loophole to the rule, i would never have know who Bela Lugosi even was; i finally found his name on the cast list in one of the books in the library, declaring cinema as a form of literature, -- loved that book -- and came to school dressed in my most elaborate Dracula costume and make up, haughtily answering countless brittaney spears' questions of who was i supposed to be, and wasn't i supposed to come as a real person, not a vampire. take that, conventionality!)

in the end, i owe my desire to be different, much more grand than my fellow peers, to Bela Lugosi's Dracula, as well as my sense of style (ergo, half my closet, several hats, dozens of stories, and the decorations around my room at this moment), and my jarring sense of multiphasic convention. i love dictionaries.

so, there you have it: Bela Lugosi, most famous for Dracula. setter of standards. speaker of accents. the man with the hypnotic stare. he practically changed my life, although he's been dead for years (or, perhapse, undead?). he is the man we'd go necropheliac for.

WERE-TOBER song 2: hungry like the wolf by duran duran

while asking around about werewolf songs, i found two things: one, most people, when asked if they know any werewolf songs, will call the inquirer a rude name and walk away, laughing and shaking their heads; and two, the ones that actually did answer would answer either with our last song (werewolves of london), or today's song, Hungry Like the Wolf by Duran Duran. the song, used in many humerous made-for-TV chase sequences, is not really about werewolves, but, looking at the lyrics i can see how they could kinda get that idea. and, besides, the fact that it's so forefront on people's minds is good enough for me. so, without farther ado, i give you Duran Duran's "Hungry Like the Wolf"! (cue applause)

dark in the city
night it awire
steam in the subway
earth is afire
do do do do do do do do do do do do

woman you want me
give me a sign
and catch my breathing
even closer behind
do do do do do do do do do do do do

in touch with the ground
i'm on the hunt down i'm after you
smell like i sound
i'm lost in a crowd
and i'm hungry like the wolf

straddle the line
in discord and rhyme
i'm on the hunt down, i'm after you
mouth is alive with juices like wine
and i'm hungry like the wolf

stalked in the forest too close to hide
i'll be upon you in the moonlight side
high blood drumming on your skin it's so tight
you feel my heat, i'm just a moment behind
do do do do do do do do do do do do

in touch with the ground
i'm on the hunt down i'm after you
scent and a sound
i'm lost and i'm found
and i'm hungry like the wolf

strut on a line
it's discord and rhyme
i howl and i whine i'm after you
mouth is alive all running inside
and i'm hungry like the wolf

hungry like the wolf
hungry like the wolf
hungry like the wolf

burning the ground i break from the crowd
i'm on the hunt i'm after you
i smell like i sound
i'm lost and i'm found
and i'm hungry like the wolf

strut on a line it's discord and rhyme
i'm on the huntdown i'm after you
my mouth is alive with juices like wine
and i'm hungry like the wolf

(fade, fade, repeat, fade...)



okay, so, that was song number 2 off the ever-popular werewolf album, in stores nowhere this fall!

HAPPY WERE-TOBER, EVERYBODY!

WERE-TOBER song 1: werewolves of london by warren zevon

this song, Werewolves of London, is one of perhapse two or three popular werewolf-oriented songs that comes to a normal person's mind (if, indeed, normal people think about werewolf songs at all...? i guess i wouldn't know). it was originally by warren zevon. it is a rarity that i approve of remakes of an original song, but the greatful dead's version of Werewolves of London was pretty dang good. ok, so without furter ado, i give you: Werewolves of London!

i saw a werewolf with a chinese menu in his hand
walking through the streets of soho in the rain
he was looking for a place called lee ho fook's
gonna get a big dish of chow mein

aaoooooo!
werewolves of london!
aaoooooo!

if you hear him howling around your kitchen door
better not let him in
little old lady got mutilated last night
werewolves of london again

aaoooooo!
werewolves of london!
aaoooooo!

he's the hair-handed gent who ran amok in kent
lately he's been overheard in mayfair
better stay away from him
he'll rip your lungs out, jim
i'd like to meet his tailor

aaooooo!
werewolves of london!
aaooooo!

well, i saw Lon Chaney walking with the queen
doing the werewolves of london
i saw Lon Chaney Jr. walking with the queen
doing the werewolves of london
i saw a werewolf drinking a pina colada at trader vic's
and his hair was perfect!

aaooooooo!
werewolves of london!
aaooooooo!
draw blood.



okay, hope you liked the first song of the werewolf album, and thank you, semaj, for your suggestion. i forgot about that one, so it'll be added to the list!

happy Were-tober, everybody!

HAPPY WERE-TOBER!

as any loyal reader of the random turtle knows, i, Franki, love classic monsters. so i'm not particularly discriminating when i say the werewolf tops them all. the duality of nature! the vast internal struggle! all that yummy hair! .... did i say that out loud?...

anyway, to celebrate my minor obsession with fuzzy creatures of the full moooooooooon, i'm going to post lyrics to the perfect werewolf soundtrack. i have about six songs in mind, but if you, the loyal fans, have any ideas, please leave them in the "comments" area, along with a silently typed howel.

at last, loyal fans, this all leads up to the magnificent were-climax of my FINAL ENTERY of our sister blog, LABRATZ-R-WE. aren't we fabulous?!

okay, that's all for now! AH-WOOOOOOOO-OOOOOOOOOH!!!

speaking alphabetically.

Always Be Careful. Don't Excite Fluffy Gropers Holding Ice Joyfully. Kill Lollygagging Mice Nicely. Open Pickles Quickly. Read Stationary Under Vinal Watchtowers. X-amine Your Zipper!

Appease Bugaboo Chicks During Every Fight. Giggle -- How Incessantly! Just Kick Listening Mistresses. No One Pretends Queen Rocks (So Underestimated)! Victorious Witches' Xenophobic Yurts Zaburnize.

Aroud Big Couches, Dogs Ever Fart. Guys Hide Inner Jockstrap Kakidrosis. Lars Misses Nickle-Onions. Pick Quality Razorblade Stores. Torture Uncontrolables Various Ways! Xerox Yodeling Zemni.

Arctic Bats Call Darkened Ears. Fistey Goslings Hate Instructional Jokes. Kilts Look Marvy Nice On Pat. Quit Riding Systematic Turkeys! Undercover Veal Walks, Xanthocomicly Yakking Zanily.

Okay, that's all I got. Thanks for reading my nonsense!

F. U., P.C.!

i hate this new fad that's going around. that, what's it called? oh, yeah, "Politically Correct". that, dear readers, is pure, grade-A crapola! i figure, as long as someone can be kind and decent, there would be no need to be so overly-polite, it's actually more offensive.

i'm not talking something simple, like "African-American" instead of "black." (although, my friend in my art class told me he thinks that's stoopid -- "I never been to Africa; I'm black!") i'm talking something more along the lines of "SLOW" being an acceptable term for for anyone with a mental -- and, sometimes, physical -- detriment. call them what they are -- not what the social populace is most comfortable with.

"SLOW" could mean "retarded", and, yeah i know that word is majorly frowned upon, due to all the idiots (not socially "slow" people -- the people who actually fit in, but are jerks anyway) who use this word to describe everything they find unappealing (that, and "gay," which, if i were going freud on their butts, i'd say it's because they secretly were gay, and wanted to kill that part of themselves... psych class... gotta love it... anyway, digression...). so, because of those non-retarded, possibly gay jerk-wads, "retarded" is a word that freaks everyone out.

but the word "SLOW" is way worse! "retarded," your mind just functions on a different plane, and that's kinda cool. but "SLOW" is like those people who find a retarded kid, and sart talking to him, "heeeeeeeyy theeeeeerre, buuuuu-dyyyyy! myyyy naaaaaame jeeeeeeerrrrrrrrkk-waaaaaaaaaa-duh! dooooooo yooooooouuuuuu uuuuun-duuuurr-staaaaaahhhhhhnnnnn-duh?!" and, first of all, no, they can't understand you, because, unlike you seem to think, he exists at the same vocal speed you do. second of all, they're looking at you, giggling, because you're the one that looks retarded, right now.

the word "SLOW" is also used to describe the autistic, and, on occasion, the dislexic, which is really dumb, considering that, no matter what you say they are to put down their mental capabilities, they're probably twice as smart as you are, in one subject or another. if anything, you should call them "FAST" or, better yet, "UNDERDOG" (i love that cartoon), because they perseveare, despite what they have holding them back.

"SLOW" is also used to indicate sevantism, which is one part selective mutism, and two parts obsession. sevants, i find personally fascinating, because every ounce of energy, every waking moment is dedicated to one thing, and one thing only, be it playing the piano, drawing flowers, or eventually getting to the final numerical digit of pi. it's hard to find where this particular obsession stems from, and even harder to find a way for the public populace to deal with it. most sevants of the world spend their entire lives locked up in a room, or a group facility, where they can carry out their obsessions in peace.

then there's physical ailments that may make the person appear as though they have a mental ailment, such as cerebral paulsey, getting them lumped in with the "SLOW" descriptions. but i can prove this is pure Bubble Snot, because i have personal experience. not me, in particular, but i went to school, from kindergarten all through graduation, with a girl in a wheelchair, who had cerebral paulsey. she controlled her chair with a joystick, had to have her feet strapped down, and couldn't speak coherently, so she used a state-of-the-art touch-screen computer to do her talking for her. now, this is where people start to feel awkward: this girl was obviously not mentally retarded, or anything else. She was smart, and deviously cunning. and a total [witch]. yeah, feel that uneasy churn in your stomach as you read that? that was socially-induced political correctness subconsciously drilled into your head. that's the way everyone felt when i'd gone to them for help, as this girl decided my make my life miserable, getting me in trouble, running over my feet with her weels, throwing herself out of her chair, saying i pushed her, all kinds of crap. but they all thought, she's got a physical ailment, she wouldnt' do that on purpose! of flippin' course she would! because she knew she could get away with it! being in a wheelchair doesn't automatically make you a good person!

anyway, too much rant. next time you use the word "SLOW" think about its meaning, then feel free to use the proper description.

if my life had a sound track (part 2)....

you know how important i believe the sound track is to a movie, and that's why i rarely find an art film that tickles my fancy, artist that i am.

so, anyway, i decided on several more musically-based scenes in my not really that possible movie of my life.

first, when i make my grand enterance at the beginning of the film, i'll be walking onto campus in rhythm to the openning riff of AC/DC's "Back in Black" as the camera pans up from my chunky gothic combat boots, up fishnet tights, to a black dress and paint-splattered denim apron, to my spikey brown hair with the big, black bow in it, and then pull away so that, by the time it gets to the part about "cat's eyes" i will be in full frame, and completely awesome. then, a good old-fashioned record scratch as i trip and fall head-first into a metal trash can and roll into the nearest wall. that's a great enterance sequence.

i've also always been fond of high-adreneline chase sequences. car chases, in particular ("Death Race" rocks -- basically ALL car chase! love it!). but, set this to a four-part chorus (soprano, alto, tennor, and base) singing in latin. why latin? because i like the language, and because of the fabulous juxtaposition of car chases, something very modern, and singing in latin, something so old, it's actually a dead language. (think the opening sequence to Disney's version of "The Hunchback of Notre Dame" where judge claude frollo is chasing the gypsey woman, quasimodo's mother, through the streets of paris to the church steps. i have a lot to say about this movie, and Disney's interperatation of it, but we'll save that for later.)

a sequence shared between me and my best friends would be wonderful set, as a montage without sound, to Meat-Loaf's "i'd lie for you (and that's the truth!)" just a properly cut sequence of scenes where we are all going to the drive in, or laughing at the lunch table, or behind the scenes in the school play. this song always reminds me of my friends.

also, at some point, i think it would be great to get in a cameo of david bowie. just 'cause.

anyway, thanks for reading this latest issue of "if my life had a sound track..." the question remains, though; what would you have as YOUR sound track?

FIGHT THE POWER! QUESTION THE MEDIA! LEARN THE REAL TRUTH!

i have a problem with authority -- like everyone seems to, these days, i guess. but most people hate authority because another authority tells them to: the antichrist corruption of information known as the "MEDIA". but what the media tells us to hate about the government is just the superficial icing on a whole cake of corruption!

get your foil helmet on, and tripple-lock your vault-lined bedroom, and transmit confusing noises as you read on! here come the conspericy theories! and i dare ya to prove me wrong!

the media told us to hate george w. bush for his inarticulation and inability to keep his campaign promises to bring world peace and take down a terrorist state accross seas. they used these devices to distract the world from the far more sinister aspects of his position: dirty deals. it just wouldn't be a proper presidency if he didn't deal with dirty laundry, such as taking and doling out bribes, playing one side of a schism against another, and more. i guarrintee every president in history (every LEADER) has committed these crimes, no matter the reasoning behind them (some actually had a somewhat noble cause -- that's right, lookin' at you, lincoln), but even with good intentions, a crime is a crime. unless, as they say, you get caught. when these leaders DID get caught, the very people who were partaking of these crimes as much, if not more, vigor would be the ones taring them down to the media (there's that word, again), and it's the guilty ones who are the first to suggest indictment, before the media can distract, again, to keep the american public at ease, with a proper scandal to gossip about (think bill clinton: was on trial for bribes, 'till media distracted with the sexual oval office affair, and everyone forgot everything about the crime, and foccussed on adultery).

now, the "war on terrorism", taking place all over the middle east. iraq, iran, afganistan... the media (say, how about we count all the times this awful word comes into play! like a game! okay, 6) says to hate the war because it's gone on so long, they've lost so many american lives, etc. well, i'm sure the entire middle east would like it finished, as well, considering how many times they sent messages to the american gov't to "remove your troops immediately!". what was the media's (7) excuse for invading their territory, anyway? oh, yeah, "nukes." they got an annonymous tip that, somewhere in the middle east there were nuclear weaponrey, which they were prepared to use on the american devils. frankly, i want to know where our leaders got this information, because i don't remember seeing osama on the 11:00 news, presenting this threat firsthand. coincidentially, it was some of OUR people, presenting this rumor as fact, using the media (8) to spread panic, to keep the country's mind off the other crap they had going down, a few more layers concealed, at that time. you think they really care about the millions of american lives? heack no! in their mind, that's what these people signed up for! and as for the lives of the billions of middle eastern soldiers, let alone trillions of civillian lives, who had nothing to do with the establishment of this war? cattle.

but there's more to the war than that. i agree that, after the attacks early on in the century, a war was a fair response. sometimes it's a necissary response. but they did it wrong. they jumped without thinking. who was it, exactly, that put the moves on our landmarks? well, they were already dead. you can't win in a fight with someone who's eager to martyr themselves for their cause (hey, at least they're committed...). their great puppetmaster? osama bin laden. HIS nationality? no one can remember, exactly, considering how far the war has spread out, territorially. just middle eastern, is all anyone can think of.

speaking of territory, another reason the war doesn't work: we're fighting with an entire country at a time. each country is merely a boundry line. inside each country are dozens of different territories that may not agree with each other culturally, historically, or even financially. we tend to act like each country has the same type of people throughout it, when, in fact, the differences between cultural territories inside the boundry lines are as different as if the american government decreed that san fransisco and new york city were to now live together in the very center of idaho, along with all the people who already live in idaho, and expect them all to not only get along, but to share ideals and work together as one single unit. can't be done! they would all be constantly at war within idaho. that is any given country in the middle east. misrepresented, misinterperated, and misplaced. they all hate each other, and that's enough pressure without our troops coming in, trying to get them to all get along, under OUR ideals.

that brings up another point. after no nukes were found in the middle east territories, the government/media (9) collaboration had to find another reason for which our troops were still there. the descision was finally reached to establish a new, democratic government in the place of the one they could easily overthrow. of course, as soon as this happened, american soldiers started complaining that the new government wasn't working out. uh... friggin' DUH! for one thing, it took our own country over a century to get where we are today. and the place we invaded was already ten times more rigid a society than early america ever was -- and we're expecting them to take up on the plan right away??!! how much of a presumptuous idiot can a unified country be?! (that, i'm afraid, would be us.) how dumb and selfish can our own leadership get?

speaking of THAT (and i promise this is my last point), consider all the disasters that have occorred to this country in the last decade. starting with the fall of the towers: a fund was taken, countrywide, to support the families who had lost someone to the towers until they could support themselves. but, even today, a vast percentage of that money is STILL SITTING IN A BANK VAULT SOMEWHERE!! also, about that disaster, it's been ten years! the people who lost everything, and got nothing, i'm sure, ARE SICK OF HEARING ABOUT IT! like salt to a wound, and butter to a burn -- all this memorial stuff just adds insult to injury. i'm not the only one who wishes the media (10) would just shut up about it and MOVE ON to something else they didn't witness to brood about. and that huge hurricane, katrina. yeah, it sucks that it devistated new orleans. it sucks that fema was so friggin' slow to help these people. but katrina was a dang ENORMOUS hurricane. new orleans wasn't the only place to suffer. but that's the only place we ever heard about. the only place reported to have gotten ANY help, whatsoever. florida was hit real bad, too, as well as texas, a huge amount of mexico, and, you know that little island that no one has heard about till the earthquake this january, haiti? had to practacly re-establish the entire island. speaking of haiti, the whole stupid country seemed to care more about the sudden disaster there, than the eventual disaster completely taking our nation: homelessnes, poverty, and the overall proof that this nation, this world, even, would be better off in a post-apocolyptic industrial wasteland (which, according to certain OTHER conspiracy theorists -- not me -- is on it's way in two years).

don't be a mindless media (11 -- well, 12, including the title) following puppet who believes all you are told on the news. fight the power. question the media (lucky 13). learn the real truth --not their version of the truth.

check out my new quiz....

which of my childhood imaginary friends are you?
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the more you read my blog, the deeper into my subconscious you get. if you have not yet run away screaming for your teddy, you are either very brave or very crazy. either way, i commend you. now, get the chance to BECOME (sorta) a part of my subconscious, by taking on the persona of one of my childhood imgaginary friends. don't you feel privelaged?!
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now, don't peek, but keep track of your numbers. how many ones, twos, threes, and fours? whatever one you have most of, that's who you are! tra! that easy.
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pick an animal.
1.BUNNY!!!!
2.rotwiler. doberman. dog with big teeth
3.dude! fudge-monkey!
4.an indestinct, yet quite frightening, beast of some sort.
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you're being chased at night by a murderous creep. what do you do?
1.disguise myself as something he/she would not wish to murder...
2.turn around and slap the fool!
3.cry. scream. poop my pants. eventually pass out.
4.i am the murderous creep, but i'm only chasing you for fun. i like to see you scream.
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what would you like for dinner?
1.salad.
2.you got a cheeseburger, or something?
3.deep-fried, chocolate-coated pizza taco!
4.that mean little boy next door. kabob.
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how would others describe you?
1.flighty
2.don't know, they never tell me -- they know if they do, i'm likely to cut 'em.
3.they think i'm a pot head...
4.scary
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pick a card, any card
1.the one on top, please
2.ace of diamonds!
3.uuuuuuuhhhh..... this one....
4.king of spades. no, you can't have it back
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marco.
1.polo!
2.crap! how'd he find me?!
3.s'up.
4.who?
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how do you sleep at night?!
1.what is this "sleep" you speak of?
2.with the music on.
3.after the gas passes, pretty easily.
4.i don't. sleep is for daytime.
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what flavor are you?
1.berry-berry-grape!
2.chonacho cheese.
3.colate. duh.
4.A1 steak sauce
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what would be your darkest secret?
1.these are synthetic.
2.there's a tattoo on my... somewhere...
3.parental troubles...
4.depends on which night you're talking about.
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if you were running drunk and naked accross town, what would you be shouting?
1.fear my magical pickle juice! bow down and fear me!
2.don't hate me because i'm beautiful -- there's pleanty of other reasons!
3.the aliens are back, man! there here for my brains!
4.ROAR!!!
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mostly 1's = shimmer, the fairy. she was during my girly period, that lasted about a month. i hope to heck you are a girl...
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mostly 2's = darnelle, who was born vicariously from my deep desire at age 10 to be black. i was very distraught when my parents told me i would never BE black, so i made her up. that's about it.
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mostly 3's = erik, who was a shape-shifting alien (so he can basically be whatever i needed him to be), who, for some reason, most preferred to be a Shaggy-type beach bum "dude." dunno what that says about you.
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mostly 4's = grunnel, my very first imaginary friend, the monster in my closet. i was never afraid of the closet monster, because we were already friends. i could tell him anything. i was the only one he showed himself to, but he protected me from idiots my own age. i still talk to him, sometimes.

appologies to all one of my fans

my appologies, loyal readers, for my long-endured absence. trouble with the internet bill. like, how to pay it.

so, starting this week (tomorrow, june 18th, 2010, if all goes well) i shall take a short respite from the random turtle to concentrate on my small blog project. please stay tuned in to my affairs, however, for if i find extra time on my hands (comes and goes), you shall hear more on the random turtle.

thank you, dear, love-er-ly, loyal readers of me. i crave your patience and titilation.

danke.

quick announcement

stay tuned, folks!

coming soon!

a second, limited-time blog from our own Franki K!

entitled: LABRATZ-R-WE

where she will test the truth and overall personal work-ability of different home-remidy self-help sites..... do they really work? how far-fetched are they? and will they even be in the running for the greatly desired weird-o-rama award, or do they belong in the armpit of despair?

find out! check out the blog! for a limited time only! coming soon! collect all eight!

THE PROUD RECIPIENT OF THE JACK SQUAT SCOLARSHIP!!

about this time every year, high schools accross the country celebrate graduation, the emerging of a student into a new world, filled with new wonders and responsibilities, exploring new life and new civilizations, as they boldly go into a region of space known as "adulthood."

from here, it is socially acceptable, and prompted, for said students to continue thier education in college. the ones who do must either be rich, or lucky enough to get at least one scholarship, if not many to just barely make ends meet.

as one of these non-rich aspiring college students, i filled out application after application, poured out my heart and soul in the cheesiest forms imaginable, as is acceptable to whatever board looks them over and makes the final descisions, decides my fate.

then i held my breath for a year, until the year-end "awards banquet," where all the scholarships are presented to their recipients. such a stuffy event. bad food. crowded. starchy people. too many balding, upper-middle-class twits for my taste. besides that, my body was having an adverse effect to the wheather, which meant i was hoarding the table-mints to settle my stomach.

i understand that my high school was an oasis of equality compared to others in the country, not at all like the idiotic shows on tv ("seceret life of the american teenager" at the top of the list of idiocy), and that this is a small town, where every local establishment has a family name on the sign. quaint place, really, if a little redneck and really sexually repressed.

BUT ALL THOSE STUPID SCHOLARSHIP PROGRAMS WERE RIGGED!!!!!

yeah, sure, the kids that got them worked hard, were immersed in their community, and behaved like perfect angels when people were watching, but the same ten kids, out of a much bigger class, soaked them ALL up. yes, they were good athletes, or really smart, or (most often) related to the right people. but that little part in the "requirements" paragraph about "financial need" -- i'll say it again: FINANCIAL NEED -- must've been an old addition that had not yet been removed, because most of the final ten were RICH kids, that wouldn't NEED a scholarship to put themselves through HARVARD!! and here I am, going to a community college, practically begging for spare change just to get CLASSES, no idea how i'm going to pay for gas to GET there and back, and here's miss preppy-pants, and mister sportsmaster, neither deigning to drive a car old enough to be potty trained, and having uncles, grandparents, family friends (all on the scholarship committe, of course) THRUSTING even MORE money at them as a barely-inconspicuous "favor," (no prep got less than ten of their own scholarships) so if they weren't ALREADY set for life, they certainly are NOW!

and even worse than the pity i felt for myself, was that for the other ninety-percent graduating class that got zilch, just like me, that were just as, if not more quallified as the rich kids that got noticed. one boy, probably the smartest, most quirky, most shy guy i know, who's had a suckish childhood, and had been forced to grow up faster than any kid should, when his name was called at the very end in the Looser Lineup (also the only place mine was), was not only offered no scholarship, his only legacy was that, despite all the crap he'd had to deal with in his entire life, he'd gotten the 4-year perfect attendance award. that's it. a slip of liney printer-paper with a cheesey clip art version of the school mascot on it, and his picture in the paper. that's not going to help his situation in the least. no money, no references, nothing.

jack squat.

and so, in conclusion, i would like to say that it was because of the personal injustice done to me (i'm self-absorbed, as you already know if you had read previous enteries) that spurred this descision. but it's not. it's because of the great injustice done to that boy. while i grew up with him, i didn't know him too well. i wish i had. but i know enough about him to know that he is now el-screwed-o. no college for him. he wouldn't be able to afford it. he'll have to skip straight to the work-force just to make ends meet. his entire future is ruined because some old men with checkbooks chose favorites without really consulting the details.

it is because of him that i have decided that, in four to six years (when i gratuate college with the help of my chorus half-ride), i'm going to return to my hometown every year, around graduation time, and present the Jack Squat Schollarship after the awards banquet, to the student who desserves the most, and recieved the shaft. it will be a numerically-based system (using numbers instead of names) so that it would be impossible to "pick favorites" outside of the presented application perameters. i shall save up money all throughout college, ask for donations, and start a foundation in the end, so i can do more good than the small-town favoritizers have done to that poor boy in my graduating class.

this is my way of fighting the establishment where it really matters. i could protest, or i could fight fire with fire, money with money, and maybe i can strike a chord with the financial world, get on the news and make them all look bad in a way that forward-thinking students will boycot donating to the foundations that support favoritizers. maybe, in the end, i can change the way scholarships are won: with character, rather than person.

wouldn't you donate?

these are a few of my favorite things

just a list of average little things that, when i really consider them, make me appreciate life more.

swivvly wheelie chairs. office chairs, computer chairs. makes relaxing on your rump a fun activity!

seseme seed buns. vastly superior to regular hamburger buns. only way it can be made better: with an actual hamburger in it. with barbecue sauce and lettuce and tomato and at least two different cheeses. and one of those fancy fuzzy toothpicks to keep it all together.

clicky pens. pens with caps are boring, and pens that twist open are too fancy, stuffy, and pompus. clicky pens are quirky, and musical. very much more fun.

carnival corn dogs. i look forward to the carnival coming to town every year, if for no other reason than the corn dogs. you can't get corn dogs like that from the freezer section in the supermarket. these are saussages in corn meal batter, that tastes a bit like gritz, on a huge flippin' kabob stick, suspended in a portable vat of grease. horrible for you, but sweet, sweet oral love to your taste buds.

the family tools. i have boxes upon baskets upon pegboards of old, musty, wrought-iron obsolete tools oozing stories of the past. most of them i don't even know what they are or what they're for. twisted bits meet uneven chunks to make century-old modern art pieces. then there's that railroad spike. i love that thing.

coloring books. the very first art i've ever been subjected to. my very first coloring book (when mama could afford more than just paper plates and pilfered resteraunt crayons) amazed me to no end. the idea that i could take a picture and make it any color i wanted seemed to me the most awsome thing anyone could ever do. after all, pictures came from the store, not crayons and markers. even to this day, the multitude of possibilities behind the covers of coloring books makes me happy on the inside.

the brittish broadcasting channel. o! the unending dry humor! this is the reason i unknowingly slip into random european accents halfway through a sentance as the mood strikes. english when i'm haughtily pissed off. irish when i'm confused or bored. and, on the quite rare occasion, a tad scottish when (at the risk of sounding like i'm loaded down with cheese) romantic.

well, i can't really think of anything else, right now. but i'll leave you with this question:

what completely ordinary thing helps you to appreciate your life more?

THE LAUGH: a poem

this poem basically sums up my entire senior year, and how i've been spending my time just having a laugh with my two best friends.

THE LAUGH

sitting together, making no sound

we could all use a laugh

~

huddled together, backs to the world

we all need a laugh

~

all around us, silence grows

boredom and anger besides

you're pissed off

he plays with a piece of string

i fight to open my eyes

we all need a laugh

~

as if a silent agreement passes

we sit at attention and wait

pondering, resolute

we desperately need a laugh

~

it starts off slow

someone says something mundane

a moment passes; someone says the same

we all start to laugh

~

it continues to build

a smile, a chuckle, a giggle, a snort

the dam gives way

and all hillarity breaks loose

to compose our beautiful laugh

~

you're ghasping for breath

he seems to have swallowed a goose

i am a great explosion which reaps the same:

a great, shining laugh

~

i snort when i giggle

you giggle when i snort

he honks when you chuckle

chuckle induces snort

laughter feeds laughter

and time floats away

all that remains is the laugh

~

cold, awkward stares beat our backs

but our faces are too warm to care

you're a crying asian man

pants full of starfish

while his mouth seems as though

it could ingest the moon

i can't see me, but i know i'm red,

spontaneously combusting in my seat

our own world fortified

we can't see beyond humor

empty room, now alone

only helps to streingthen the laugh.

~

but, alas, humor wears off

all too very soon

minds return to time

faces regain their shapes

the haphazard music of laughter

reaches its final phrase

spastic throats passing now

only air

we've all had our laugh

~

realizations all met at once

no one will speak the phrase

eyes search eyes

memory searches mind

but only recover gaze for clueless gaze

no one knows

we don't understand

what it was, exactly

that first made us laugh?

childhood crush wall

so while other girls idolized "prince charming" or mr. rogers or any other "nice" male figure in their lives, i had cable. cable brought me these romantic figures. (maybe this will help explain me to you.)

here we have frankenstein's monster (not frankenstein, himself; he aws a weak, mad, selfish little man, and it ticks me off when people give the creature the same name). why did i find him so attractive as a child? well, he's completely opposite his appearances. in the movies, he's a sweet, "special", child-like man with a thing for flowers. in the book, he's thoroughly intelligent, has a temper, but also the conscience to second-guess his fury. he's a beautiful character.

i give you nosferatu. in a world of "handsome" vampires from bela lugosi to whats-his-face from "twilight", this guy is the nerd-geek of the vampire world. his little bald head, buck-fangs, and rat claws all really left me no choice. the awkwardness he exhibits towords humans shows he has more humanity and emotions than any other vampire. and i'm not a vampire-lover, by any means, but any troubled soul (even thoes without) catches my attention.

mr. spock, of the starship enteprise. the most minor of minorities: the crossover of two species, human and vulcan, emotionless for the most part, but currious the rest of the way, and he is beautiful. look at him! he has so much to learn, here. so smart, yet so clueless. and people seem to think it's absolutely scandellous for him to have any type of romantic relationship (even though captain kirk, his equal and friend, made intergalactic love with any female species he happens to meet...)

the wolf man, lawrence talbot. the man cursed with being a werewolf on the full moon. not so much caring about his human half, but his wolf bits. why do i love werewolves so much? probably that whole "torturtured soul" thing. well, that and muscles and hair. lotsa hair.

original series from the 60s jerry bruckheimer movies, more recent.

lurch, silently-groaning butler of the addams family. reminiscent of frankenstein's monster (see above), but with a different twist: while the creature (above) was searching for a path in life, lurch not only has a desired path, but also a steady, paying job, a place to live, and is the godfather of wednesday and pugsley, which is almost like having his own family -- barring a lady-type friend. which is too bad, 'cause he'd a good looking guy. well, you know, by my standards. i have a thing for the tall, pale, and sullen. the strong, silent types you see. every time i hear "uuuuhh-uh-uh-uh," my cheeks get hot.

well, i guess that's all. these are the men i've spent my childhood pining over, and who have ruined "normal" guys for me. i call for extraordinary (or extraworldly, extraterrestrial, extra-odd, or containing a few extra parts... though i take whatever i can get.)

kids today. oy.

i know it's commonly a generation much older than my own that complain about "kids today." but, as an outside observer, i can also place this judgment, but with more understanding of my own generation -- i am the link between people my age, and the rest of idiocy.

all people, each generation is full of idiots in their own right, just for different reasons. if "kids today" were idiots for the same reasons as previous generations, there wouldn't be any "kids today" talk to speak of.

but, let me shed some light on why "kids today" today are idiots: because the "kids today" of yesterday were idiots, too. that could be broken down into so, so, so many different supports, paragraphs, and quite a rant. but i'm going to foccus on one thing, today:

the phrase uttered by the "kids today" of yesterday, "i would never do this to my kid."

lack of punishment, is essentially what i'm talking about. the "kids today" of yesterday were just so touchy about punishment and what they saw as "justice," that they allowed the "kids today" of today to become whimpy, soft-skinned bullies that do whatever crap they want, because there'll be no real reprocussions to take them down after the deed is done.

i'm talking spankage. none of this "time-out" crap. sure, it may work on some kids (mind you, i was a dang good kid, polite to everyone, if a tad odd, but i never needed to get spanked but a few times in my life), but they are the exceptions to the rule. the results of a hundred "time-outs" in the corner, sent to their room with a t.v., stereo, iPod, computer, and whatever else, could never even come close to the results from a few whacks to the bum.

this doesn't mean "go ahead, smack your kids around, no matter their crime," that's just child abuse (as much as that phrase gets thrown around, these days). yeah, you gotta use a little discretion to discern what's spank-worthy, and what the kid can learn from just talking to them like humans -- equals, even (that's how i turned out so well, i think; mama never "baby-talked" me, didn't patronize me, and spoke to me like my opions and ideas counted).

but, for goodness' sake! don't reward idiocy! don't offer ultimatums! don't try to be the "good guy" and strike a deal! all these things put the kid in power over you! they are the evil masterminds, and you're left the hunchbacked little "yes-master" minions who tend to follow any given subtle order. don't treat them like idiots, but do not allow them to do the same to you.

it is my personal opinion that punnishments should be allowed to be carried out in schools. not lock-you-in-the-bathroom-till-you-write-with-the-write-hand-and-start-your-zeros-from-the-top bad, just enough that, when someone calls the teacher a bitch , said teacher can actually do something about it.

they had coporal punnishment as late as the 1940's. at that time, kids stayed kids for longer, and there was fewer idiocy in the world. sure, it was a simpler time, but it's not like people then were any less stupid than they are now. they were just more well-behaved. why? because it was instilled in their mind at an early age that stupid actions have harsh consequences. likewise, the "kids today" of today have had it in their heads since they could first think that, no matter wha they do, there's no real consequences for their stupidity. because they're idiot parents, and their idiot government is intent on seeing that they all grow up idiots.

so, i guess, to close, here's my point: kids today are idiots, but no more idiotic than their parents were idiots as kids, or their parents, and so forth; they're just handled differently, so that it almost screws up the entire race. congratulations, "kids today" of yesterday, you've destroyed the world for the "kids today" of tomorrow. ya happy? well, are ya, punks?

idiots.