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| Tuesday, January 30th, 2007 | | 11:50 am |
The Blind
I've always read from the web standards advocates that people shouldn't use Flash because of its lack of accessibility. For example flash websites cannot be easily used by the blind, who rely heavily on the use of screen readers, which need HTML text to work. Naturally I set about learning how to code Flash pages for the blind, if for no other reason than to prove someone else wrong. Step one was to download a screen reader and take a look at some sites that did it correctly. I installed Thunder, a freeware screen reader available here: http://www.screenreader.net/index.php?section=ThunderAnd immediately went to wikipedia. Try it. You'll learn a lot. To my shock... Navigating wikipedia blind was a complete nightmare! Granted, I'm not blind, and am not using the software as well as a blind person would. Evenso the opening page cannot be properly screen read. How would a blind person know the search bar appears on the page and they should start typing? Additionally you often have to sit for a full minute or two listening to links that were of 0 relevance to what you were looking for. This isn't to fault wikipedia, but I came to the realization that simply having a plain-text content, does not an accessible website make. The very strength of hypertext, the ability to quickly glance through aggregated content and determine its relevance, presents problems for the visually impaired user. The visually impaired user is almost forced to listen to every bit of non-relevant information. I propose, if one is serious about being accessible: 1.) Content for the visually impaired user needs to be designed with their limitations in mind from the ground up. There are too many visual cues on a HTML page that need audible explanations, that cannot simple be translated by a screen reader. Custom audio interfaces need to be developed. (In this arena Flash could easily out perform HTML) 2.) Content optimized for the visually impaired would be annoying for the rest of us. Two separately optimized sites need to be developed. Also of interest: http://home.pacbell.net/thammon/blind/comp.html first hand experiences/frustrations/evaluations of surfing the web from a person who has lost (is loosing?) his vision. | | Monday, January 29th, 2007 | | 2:47 pm |
Now you can pick up ANYTHING!
This was written, letter for letter, capital for captial, line break for line break, on the chopsticks paper wrapper that came with my pad thai this afternoon: Welcome to Chinese Restaurant. Please try your Nice Chinese Food With Chopsticks the traditional and typical of Chinese glonous history and cultual. Learn how to use your chopsticks Tuk under thurnb and hcld firmly Add second chcostick hold it as you hold a pencil Hold tirst chopstick in original position move the second' one up and down Now you can pick up anything: | | Friday, December 8th, 2006 | | 11:30 am |
| | Saturday, September 30th, 2006 | | 12:44 pm |
Learning to Read the Ruler
I'm up here in the styx this weekend, by myself, slowly assembling the necessary supplies and materials to start art-welding again. It's an incredibly painful process, due to the fact that revealing either a.) I am an artist or b.) I grew up Philadelphia and live in New York City, results in talking to me like I'm an agnostic heathen who attends sex parties and doesn't know how to properly operate a wood splitter. Which results in me faking like I'm from the area and that I'm looking for scrap metal to repair some broken farm equipment. Funny thing is, I usually pass. I've developed a slight accent that says, "Wasn't born here, but has lived here for at least the past 15 years." This, however, gets me in trouble when I ask for directions. They usually give me something like, "Oh, its just past the robinson's place, where the old stone quarry imploded." So I drive 45 minutes in into Throop, which is just outside of Scranton, which, with the exception of Pittsburg, was perhaps the largest steel production city in Pennsylvania, to go pick through the only dump in 100 miles thats open on weekends. The place is totally sweet...Theres a full on fucking freight car train under a few tons of steel. I'm looking at it like, "I WANT that". I find the boss and immediately get the fuck-you get lost treatment. I ask him what the deal is and bossman is like, "HAHAHAHA...if you can find it, just bring it back to the weigh station." He thinks this is my first time to a dump and that I'll give up on the adventure when I realize how fucking difficult it is to move I-Beams without a dolly all the way back to the weigh station. Two minutes later I'm 14 up in the air on a rickety tower of steel with some sweet choice industrial pieces that my car cant move and I have no way of getting. I'm thinking, "Shit, people die like this." But the owners don't seem to care and I need my scrap. I spend the next 10 minutes throwing metal chunks to the bottom of the pile when the owner pops out of his hutch and gives me a look like, "Fuck, this kid is serious." and yells at me to get down. I can't say I disagree so I jump into a few feet of mud. While I'm scraping this grizzled-mumbly-mountain-man asks what I'm building and we strike up a conversation. I end up betraying my true identity, and he stands there in awe (but not admiration) like I got the short end of the stick on life or something. And pulls me over to his mazda to tell me to give me a valuble life lesson us city kids missed out on. He turns to me and says, "All of your life is measured. You can't be wasting an hour thirty minutes driving here to Throop and back to Montrose for scrap." He pronounces it Mount-Rose which was the original name given to the town when it was settled by the Dutch or some other European rabble way back when. This insight gives me the willies, cause that information is passed down orally, which in all likelyhood means hes a direct decendant of the firsts of the area. Spooky. He pulls out his measuring tape and pulls out "106" Inches and bends it back on itself. Tells me to locate the year I was born in the black numbers and then tells me that in red, in the second folded portion of the tape, below my year of my birth, will be my age. Sure enough number 24 is right below it. He continues, "You have to learn how to read the ruler. All of life, can be placed on these little marks. Here you were born, and who knows..." (he points farther down) "here you die." He performs for me other mystical calculations, by folding and bending the tape measure. Shows me how lining up the year he met his wife, and the years she died, shows the number of years they spent together and the bend in the fold. Mathematically, this is just modular arethmetic, and aside from the ingenuity of using a tape measure as a calculation device i'm not incredibly impressed. But, for a man who ahd been "A scrapper [his] whole life." I was quite astounded to see how usefull mathematical knowledge can be passed down through families, via some bizarre life lesson, and numerical misticism. All in all I left the scrap yard somewhat depressed, for the man, who measured his life with a ruler and seemed content on never having left Pennsylvania. Well, thats a lie really. They say they are contented, but they look fucking sad to me. Not sad pathetic, but sad like in the way a life of poverty and hardship makes you content with "the simple things" because everything else by default is a luxury you've never known. I left there thinking, "Deep down inside I know my luxuries are bullshit. Maybe someday I recognize that a cup of hot coffee on a winter's day has given me more joy than all the grandiose aspirations I have for myself...but i'll reach that conclusion by choice, not because I didn't have the sense to see past my own ruler. Right now I've got some fucking sculptures to make!" Lovingly, Rustingly, -Jonathan | | Friday, August 25th, 2006 | | 10:55 am |
| | Saturday, July 22nd, 2006 | | 4:12 pm |
Bastages
Bastards stole my car battery. Whats the street value of a used car battery? Can't be more than $40. | | 11:51 am |
I need a vacation
I just got back from Mexico. Although I seriously consider moving there someday, I am glad to be home, where you can flush tiolet paper and where drinking tap water doesn't make you piss out your ass for a week. I woke up happy and set out to buy groceries for the week. The air in bedstuy seemed fragrant. My mind wandered, recalling all the things I loved about NY that I took for granted. A parked van with rouwdy children heckled me teasingly. "Fucking faggot" 12 hours. 12 hours is the amount of time it takes to get sick of NY. I should have kept walking. But I turned around to give them a dirty look. And again, "FAAAAAAGGGOOTTT". The look backfired. It was still funny, and the 6 of them, no more than a year appart were balls-hard laughing at my face. Socially, I know there are a long list of circumstances that justify a van full of impovershed children to jeer faggot at every passing whitey in bedstuy. They'll hear worse from white people in their lives, heavily packaged in academic wording, backed by statistics with the overall message that they're VERY VERY inferior; And won't it hurt - hard. And don't certain white people deserve it? I'm just not whitey. I wish I could say that I felt the need to rectify the situation. Let children know that not every white guy is an asshole, that language like that is likely to put them farther behind in life, and that I'm cool, I know the deal and that they should maintain a healthy scepticism of white people in general. But fuck it I just wanted to let those little bastards fry. I went moral, "is that funny to you?". Dumb, yeah it was still really funny. "Fagot, what are you going to do about it?" The car was still running. Ha! "Does your mom know you talk like that?" Horror. Don't most crackers just spout some shit about hip hop sucking and walk away? Not this cracker. Mom came out of the parlor just in time. "Ms are these your kids?" Nod. "One of them just called me faggot, thought you'd like to know." Wasn't she pissed. They stopped laughing, and turned on each other: "Was James did it!" immediately confirming the validity of my story. How old am I? 8 again? Did I bring those 6 to a better understanding of social equality? No. But didn't I blow their minds? Bedstuy, a year here and one of two things happen. Either the racial bickering drives you so nuts that you drop all sense of social activism and high tail it out or you become . . . one . . . a bedstuyvian, where your rep takes precidence, you don't back down from a fight, and a sharp tongue and quick wits solves most problems. | | Friday, June 23rd, 2006 | | 1:44 pm |
No one will care to read this
I've been working on this one web page trying to get 1 fucking table aligned to center for hours across all major browsers. So, my page looks fine in IE, but when I view it in firefox it smushed it to the left. I go on the web for an answer and I get pages of web-assholes yelling at me for using IE in the first place. The web is littered with questions like this "My image slices keep breaking! help" and with responsed like this. "Don't use image slices asshole!" Thats just not helpful. Morons, I NEED to use them, its the only way I can layout complex images with text across a webpage. "Who needs images! The web is an information medium." Did it ever occur to you I need mywebsite to NOT LOOK LIKE SHIT? Eventually, someone gave an explanation. The answer it turns out is that IE is not standards compliant. Here's what I did: align="center" Turns out, align="center" isn't standard anymore and Firefox ignores the tag! Instead, this is what I was advised to do: create a new css class in a seperate file with the following definition: table.center { margin-left: 0 auto; margin-right: 0 auto; } Then I have to apply that to my table as a class. class="center". How is that any easier, or more intuitive that align="center"?! CSS for layout is the most ass-backwards concept I've ever seen for the web in a long time. It's not even finished! and I'm expected to ditch tables for it?! Would you move into a house if the wall's weren't all up yet? I love how people think that strict following of the standards is the solution. But if your standards SUCK!!! There are entire books, 500 pages long, with titles like, "Tables in CSS!". If you need 500 pages to explain the concept of a table, THEN SOMETHING IS WRONG. WEVE HAD YEARS TO FIGURE THIS OUT. Americans can launch 3 nuclear missiles to every country in the world at the same time but WE CAN'T FIGURE OUT HOW TO ALIGN A FUCKING TABLE TO THE CENTER OF THE PAGE. | | Friday, June 2nd, 2006 | | 9:53 am |
from BRANDsense, "The doctor worked slowly and diligently, carefully obliterating the tattooed bar code with the letters G-U-C-C-I neatly etched underneath...it marked the end of Will's obsession with the Gucci brand-an obsession he had take to the outermost limits. Gucci had become more than a brand. It was, in Will's words, "My one and only religion."... He had, he believed, formed a lifelong relationship with the brand... For will it had become a "person" whom he could relate to, admire, and be supported by. This relationship gave him the energy he required to get up each day and go to school. It gave him a sense of his won identity. He talked about Gucci as a family member, not as an expensive fashion product... Will was a living breathing example of what marketers ultimately aspire to when they create a brand." This isn't fiction. I picked up this book from my employer, hoping to learn a bit about branding, as my clients sometimes request logo design or style sheet. Branding is the process of incorporating a 'value system', same as you or I would have, into a products design. Branding has a practical component, once a company reaches a certain mass it can no longer keep tabs on its many subdivisions, branding ensures that the printing center's subway ads match the look of the tv centers commercials. Doing any less would simply look like crap. Then there's this barbaric side to branding. That creates people like Will. And I'm completly unable to draw a line, between acceptable branding practices and unacceptable ones. In some sense we created the problem. We simply dont buy shitty looking products. It makes sense theres often a correlation between the look of a product and its quality, both are a function of money. Poor design = no money = poor product, but this simple rule has created a darwinian system of survival of the flashiest. So, ads have obviously evolved. At the advent of television it was a simple as a man who looked like our neighbor, telling us he liked using Dr Bronners Talc Powder Product. And it was just like we heard it from our close personal friend. Only as we learn that Mr Neighbor lies, do those kinds of ads become ineffective. Those ads are now "nostalgic" because we perceive no malicious presence in their message, they are, cutely naive. It's important we do not become pastoral in our perception of the past. Ads are bullshit now, and they were bullshit back then. Ad then moved onto flashy seizure like motion, sound assults, inferiority complexes, sex appeal, culture of desire. As we evolve with the ads, we become increasingly aware of when and how were being bullshitted. Most of us are now immune to the above stated manipulations. Studies show as much. People watch less TV, commericials are less effective. They say that if you can't hook a person with 3 seconds of watching a commercial, its message is lost. We have become professional bullshit detectors. Parent have blamed us for our short attention spans, but it was a natural and necessary defense, a result of growing up in the world they created for us. We converse with each other at the same rate we process the ads they surround us with, and they can't handle it. Will all this lead to an end? A race of super people, whom no bullshit can penetrate. Whom no product is purchased on the basis of looks. If we take evolutionary systems as an example. No. Ads will only increasingly become attuned to our resistances. And in our old age, we are likely to succumb to new tricks. Changes are, we've already fallen for some of the new tricks. Clothing stores pump artificial summer smells in the bikini section, triggering strong memories. People get paid to talk about products in a bar, as if it were natural. We are encouraged to sumbit ads 'virally'. Branding firms are working on creating rituals to surround their products. The point is, we develop a resistance, are resistance takes the form of a meta-language, and once popular, the new meta-language becomes the next platform for advertising. For example, you hate labels, you make your own clothes and the trend catches on, son everyone is wearing home spun clothing! Your winning! Then the banana republic industrializes the home spun look, builds factories in Honduras, and sells you the look of non-corporate clothing. FUCK. It's an endless circle. It only ends with a change in perception, a complete overhaul of the system. This means treating the consumer like an educated individual, being honest and upfront about design decisions, descreasing reliance on expensive package design, and creating a cultural perception that sense manipulation is basically, fundamentally, immoral. -JKou | | Tuesday, May 30th, 2006 | | 12:12 pm |
Sleep Fighting
Last night I awoke to the feeling of a rather large bug in my hair. I assumed it to be a beetle, so, without opening an eye, I simply combed my fingers through my hair, pinched it between my two fingers and threw it aside. This morning I awoke to find by my bed a rather large yellowjacket neatly pinched in two, between thorax and abdomen. Lucky Me. | | Tuesday, May 23rd, 2006 | | 8:30 am |
"Getting it mass produced at slightly below Chinese price but of Japanese quality..."
Being invloed in Web Design can take you funny places sometimes. Last Monday I had attended the "Venture Association of New Jersey Entrepreneurs Expo" at the Morristown Hyatt of all places. It's not the sort of event I ever saw myself attending. I've never seen myself as the kind of person who would run a company, and therefore, not the kind of person who would need startup capital. But I took the opportunity see what I could learn about money. Apparently money works exactly the way I thought it did. Bullshit artists talk to rich people. But it was nice to see the process formalized. The highlight of the night were the business proposals, of which I sat through maybe 30. The "AquaOgen" company, in particular, pitched an idea, to market 0-2. Yes, in the future, you will pay for your air. Were it not for the fact that the man on the podium was a well aged Indian man, I would have sworn the idea was the brain child of watching Total Recall with alot of friends and a brick of pot. Maybe me and "3rd Tit LCC" should go public. He had a demo with him. So it's like 3 hits of oxygen. Thats all they can squeeze in the thing without making it explosive. I looks like an oversized water bottle, with its own breath-mask. Despite looking like an ass, apparently these things already sell alright in Japan and . . . was it Europe? And yes I do mean hits. The popularity of oxygen bars is almost entirely due to the fact oxygen (lots) gets you high. Call me crazy but I'm pretty sure I heard of better ways to get high. Even if this does become a popular solution for our poor air quality. I don't like a consumer based solution for something thats a corporate problem. It's like poisoning the food supply and making antidote gum. I've copyrighted that poisoning the food bit, so don't get any ideas. | | Tuesday, May 16th, 2006 | | 8:36 am |
Bedstuy
It's been raining maybe 3 days solid here in NYC which I love. The rain that is. It takes the edge off the city but apparently only for me. Seems to drive alot of other people around here crazy. I watched a guy this morning chark in his car (entry on what charking is to come later) trying to manuever around two lanes of fully stopped traffic. Much to my suprisse he scared other cars into giving him enough room to turn sideways, make a left down one of the local streets. He rewards all his hard work by gunning it hard. Hydroplanes his car and slams it into a much sturdier car. Since it's Bedstuy, he most likely doesn't have insurance, so he tries to leave, in a traffic jam he's further helped complicate. And again, since it's Bedstuy, cops outnumber criminals 2 to 1. He immediately has enough attention to keep still. Maybe it's wrong of me to assume this is the rain's fault. Even so, there's a sentiment amoung new yorkers that 'nature' only makes living in the city harder. If they could air condition all of the adirondacks, then maybe they'd go hiking more often. Stephanie's friend Jason, East Flatbush resident of many years says he hated trees. Said tree's scared him. I thought he was joking at first but now I'm not so sure. His rationale was that 'someone could pop out from a tree at any time and mug him' huh? Wow, thats the exact same rationale country folk use to . . . avoid buildings. Especially buildings in East Flatbush. Seems were just scared of being off our own turf. Do you new yorkers know what your missing? In the burbs when it rains, the soccer fields get muddy. Women and Men alike are easily fooled into what they call 'communing with nature' all it takes is a little bit of pot. In only a matter of minutes you can have a muddy free-love orgy. It's really one of the oldest tricks in the books. But I guess in new york, when it rains, you don't get woodstock, you just get water damage. No wonder everyone's charking. . . | | Sunday, April 23rd, 2006 | | 1:00 am |
This could very easily turn into the 'dillemas in contemporary art practice' blog.
I'm waiting for the screen filler to dry on my silkscreen where I've drawn some number of skulls. The idea is to make flags. And this first one I'm just swapping out the 50 starts with 50 skulls in the american flag and and keeping it monchrome, black on white. The Dillema comes in deciding what to do with them once I'm done. Part of me wants to sell them to recoup some of the cost of making it, the other part feels wrong selling political work. The question I propose is: Does political art have a responsibility not to enter the market? I feel this question applies more to polical art than it does any other. Political art, by its very definition hold the message, and the education of the viewer above all other values. Other art, may be made, without hypocracy for collection and profit under a different name. >> But if turning a profit can help me create more works, is the cost of the art justified? Money, unfortunately is multivariate in nature. So alot of this delemma stems from my intentions. It would be outright hippocritical to sell the revolution. (for those of your not in the know, the Revolution is a blanket term for 'The day when all of mankind is free from tyranny and opression' and does not refer specifically to the communist revolution) Like those shirts that fuck with corporate branding, so for instance McDonalds is now 'McHell'. Those shirts retail at urban outfitters for $20. But where do you draw the line between turning a profit and financially supplementing your art practice? One option is to sell the flags at the price it took to create them. So I don't turn a profit but it doesn't hurt me to produce these. Or do I charge for the original cost of materials, plus an hourly rate of 10$/hr, a simple living wage? See it gets tricky. I guess the question comes down to access. While there may be no inherit evil in attaching a price tag to political art, afixing one, even a small one, automatically bars some portion of the population from recieving your work. Even access to the internet is divided across race and class lines. Ideally, the best space for this art is public, equal access to all members of a community. But we don't have public art spaces do we? Access may be public but participation is not. Artists cannot speak in a public space without thorough screening, resulting in non-offensive, non-confrontational fluff work. I should be free to draw penises. Which brings me back to my original idea. GRAFITTI! Scary, in NYC, its 3 strikes and your out (of rights that is) | | Friday, April 7th, 2006 | | 10:55 am |
Stellarc
I was having this art conversation with Pat a few days back. We were talking about maybe trying to put up a show. None of us are really doing enough art and we thought it could motivate us. Anyway, we get to talking about our art themes, and logical next steps for our work and Pat mentions Stellarc. Who is this crazy Aussie. Basically thinks hes a robot and is convinced the body is obsolete. To give you an idea of what this guy is about, he hooked up electro-stimulators to his muscles and then made a interface where you could activate these things over the internet. So basically, you have remote control of his body. Except, not fine motor control but you can make him spasm. As cool as this (maybe) is and I support Stellarc in all his wacky experiments I have to say as an artist I feel pressured by the community, critics, students, the whole lot to use my body as an artistic material. Were not at the point where at teacher has suggested I go hurt myself to make good art, but I wonder if were not far off. The lack of controversy in discussions I have with people regarding body work scares me a bit. I can't tell you how many times people have offered up to me examples like Chris Burden, who, had himself shot on video as a art piece, as inspiration or 'an avenue I should explore'. Never in school was it discussed, whether it was OK for Mr. Burden to shoot himself. I think if were not asking those sorts of questions to ourselves, we might be missing the point. The only reason Burden's or Nueman's works fly with me is that they are consentual and we have yet to see a student kill himself on video by accident in an attempt to recreate Burden's performance. (Maybe the forgery of this is a good video installation) It seems to me that as a result of treating the body as an object we are prone to ignoring the body as, someones life. Guess its just the age we live in. Silly post-modernists, the machinery of the living and the act of living are hopelessly mixed. They may be changed at will, but never seperated from the material. Anyways, go check Stellarc out, and move his little robo-fish around in his stomach for me. | | Wednesday, March 15th, 2006 | | 6:08 pm |
Remember me bitches! I couldn't believe this account was still active. My past post was like, over a year ago and did it suck? I can't remember. This is just a note to let you know I intend to post more. Thats becuase a few days ago I said to myself "you should write", cept I was talking about, alone, to myself. But then I figured, why not let you people read this. So, WHAT I WILL NOT POST: -Wack diviant art entries. -My day, if my day was really boring. Like I know alot of you people like to be, "Today I had two slices of white toast and I was thinking, what is toast . . . toast is like my x-boyfriend who bought me whole then sliced me up and buttered. . . ." -Generally, any relationship problems or coded bullshit about other people of live journal. I wont mention any names but this girl . . . E.S. is bad. She's a total lesbian and is to be avoided at all costs. I also heard she knits for evil. -"Emoticons" (shudders) -Quizes, who cares if you took the "which dictator are you most like?" if you aren't actually a dictator? In general I'm going to try to keep it limited to thoughts and musings and essays. [did he say essays?] Yes. Essays. Oh BTW when I type in brackets thats me putting words into your mouth. You the reader. [me the reader?] Yes. You. The reader. I don't want live journal to become a serrogate for actual communication with my friends. If you want to know whats going on my life I really rather you all CALLED me, or e-mail me. If I violate any of the "What I will not post" list you may call me on my bullshit and I will send you a prize. [hmm prizes] | | Friday, March 7th, 2003 | | 10:44 am |
stephanie that vision of kindness and beauty. I wish i Mr. culp-face wasn't such an ass for how can such and awsome person bear my presense. today i woke up in steph's room and decided for no reason to antagonize her and be a pussy little bitch. She was so nice to me and i was so mean to her and i called her names and was all smelly and gross. i am a no good assface gamehogg. someday with lots andf lots of practice i hope to be as well-mannered and groomed as Ms. Perez. From this moment on i will refer to her as Ms. perez because i am unworthy of uttering her name. | | Tuesday, February 25th, 2003 | | 2:39 pm |
Ode to Edith
Told ya I'd make her into a comic Hopefully I'll go give this to the observer. And maybe she'll stop charging me $1.50 for cheese. And maybe pigs will fly.  | | Sunday, February 16th, 2003 | | 9:12 pm |
Tattoo
So, me and Steph are having a debate. After countless years of swearing I would never perminantly put any drawing on my skin, I've changed my mind. I never wanted one becuase I thought that whatever image i picked, no matter how cool it seemed at first, I would eventually get sick of. But in 20 years of living i've finally found the perfect image  for those of you not familiar, they are the three aligators in the quicksand from the atari 2600 version of pitfall (the hardest game ever created) Think I'd put it across my back. Steph thinks its ugly and will cuase me never to get laid again. Sasha thinks the opposite is true. But, 2 opinions aren't enough. I need more. Current Mood: accomplishedCurrent Music: Atari 2600 Theme to Pitfall | | 8:52 pm |
Something Pretty
A few things. 1.) The lady at the register at d-kline charged me 50c for each slice of brie on my sandwich. All in all, $1.50 for 3 slices. At this I remarked "Thats a little fucking steep don't you think." to which she said, "Brie is expensive, were just covering costs." Covering costs my ass, I know 3 slices of brie does not equal $1.50. There will be a comic about this trust me and if I get off my lasy ass it will even be published. An art students real major is public slander :) 2.) I made something pretty, but steph thinks its scary. (too chaotic) I might take her suggestion and smooth out the animation for something a little more graceful. If I can still remember HTML tags this should work: The wonderful world of wooly | | Friday, January 31st, 2003 | | 9:10 am |
As Per Request
So a few days ago I again took notice of a little thing my mouth is prone to doing at seemingly random moments. Reading over a my to do list I let out a wide-mouthed yawn over its boring and tedious elements wich include things like, "add items to list". And behold one of the glands in my mouth emits a stream of saliva placing tic sized dots in a line over my to do list. "Cool" I think, "My saliva glands can squirt." This leads to two on of two conclusions 1.) these glands are de-evolving. Meaning at some point in human evolutionary history, it was to our benefit to be able to spray saliva from our mouths. It might have gone something like this: Turok: "Your girlfriend is ugly" Johnok: "Im tired (YAWN)" Turok: "WRGGAHAHHHAAHAHA, my eyes!" The other conclusion is that these glands are evolving. Scary. This means our future is heading grimly to a point where we will be forced to salivate on our enimies to paralyse them. As this process is just evolving, I think the saliva spray would only be affective if directed towards someones eyes, and the toxins involved probably work very slowly. Maybe over years. Or maybe the victim needs to be reprayed every 24 hours, who knows. I can't control when to spray yet, thats my next goal. But if one thing is clear, the future is coming, and I'm ready for it. And I take pride in the fact that my children will be able to handle to challanges ahead. Dilectic materialism makes one thing clear, learn to spray, or die. -jonathan. |
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