Haiku #1

The boy on the bike
as I mowed the new grass
looked back at me

Cover that cover

This is a plea to book publishers everywhere; a plea for you to stop ruining perfectly good books with awful book covers. Look, I know that it's superficial and ridiculous of me, but I have and will continue to judge books by their covers and when, the other day, I traveled to the local book store and saw one of my favorite  books with a horrendous cover, I thought of all the poor people who may never read that book just because of some photoshopped fire behind a silhouette. So once more I am imploring that if you are in doubt about what to wrap a book with, just stick a blank white cover on it, with the title and author printed neatly in black on the center.
Thank you.

(a,(h,(a,(h,(a<>h),a),h,)a)

smash a tv-vomit into a bucket-tables breaking-kick it when you're done-eat eat eat-crumble the headphones around your ears-shattering-grazing past your ear-open the door open the door-roll out onto the highway-poo poo poo-take what you've got and build a sculpture of yourself-shatter the mirror-put on the mask-split it at the seams-underbelly-take out the batteries, put them into something else-running out of power-don't touch it-kill the beast-harness the animal-liar-stealer-hypocrite-I promise, I promise, I promise-I'm not

Wait, what?

If I truly have free will,
Then why is it that I've always done what happened
and never anything else?

No need for the large air tank, we're not diving too deep here.

Anyone who has been keeping up with this ridiculous blog knows that my last few post have been subject to some amount of levity, however, I'm breaking the humor streak (to, no doubt, the relief of the majority of my few readers) and getting "down to business," as one might put it. I will be journeying back into, what some might say is my home field, that is, moral philosophy. I hope I haven't frightened all my readers back to facebook with those two words, but I also hope they provide ample warning to the remains of my audience that this might not be the cheeriest, nor the easiest, read. For those who wish to "bail" now, here are a few exits to other, somewhat worthwhile, pursuits.

 Exit #1

 Exit #2

 Exit #3

Alright, now that we've ditched the others at various internet roadside cafes we can, just you and I, finally have out this one-sided conversation without worrying about the other's overhearing.
Now, I'm going to do a "right-side-up" pyramid thing with this article (starting with an idea about a specific subject and using it to make a broader point) I dearly hope that Mrs. Jenkins never finds this, but should she, I say, in my defense, that this is no news article, and I am no reporter.

Alright, alright, alright. I'll get get get to it. I'll just come right out and say it, what the freak is with the concept of Justice? I really don't get it anymore, it doesn't fix anything. I'm talking about punishing someone for a crime or wrongful action. I can understand imprisoning someone because they've shown that they are a threat to society and their fellow man, but why do people have to tack justice on as a reason for it? How is that any good? When did vengeance become a state endorsed activity? Now, I know the issue runs deeper than this, and there is a lot of ways one could respond to this, (something I hope happens, and which I encourage), but the point I am trying to is this: just because a concept--such as justice--has been ingrained into you by your culture or environment, does not mean that it is "good" or even necessarily that it even makes sense. It's important to think these things through with honesty so that you're not using supposed moral concepts to justify your actions or lifestyle.
I was planning on this being much longer, but--to your relief, I'm sure--I have decided to end on that note. Take this post however you want, like always, I'm just saying...

Balls

Now, I know you're probably already snickering, but this isn't what you think. I'm simply noting an observation I made the other day concerning the crew, and our apparent love for balls of all sorts.
Think about it. The first time I went over to Pat's house, one of the first things I noticed was several rubber band balls laying around. Think of George and that giant ball of chewed gum he kept in his freezer. And I'm pretty sure someone had a lint ball going there for a while. I even saw Dakota eat a ball once--a little strange, maybe, but which of us hasn't felt compelled to manifest, in some form, our love for balls. Patrik has, for hours at a time, divulged to me his interest in rubber "bouncy" balls, and him, myself and George once went on a whole mission--into the deep, dark, and very very dank lair of Mr. Summers--to rescue one of our most beloved balls.
So, without going into what Freud might say about this balls obsession, I think we can all say that we love our balls, big or small, light or heavy, rubber-band or made of gum.