It’s quite comical to watch people show up for mass late on a Sunday morning. You know, these are the people that probably drive 5 mph UNDER the speed limit, brake hard for yellow lights, and wait at stop signs for eternitys. But suddenly they might miss the opening procession– BAM! 65 on city streets, diving across traffic for left hand turns, and curb-hopping without signals. See Jesus, now look what you went and did.
Has anyone quite realized how seriously, amazingly, freakishly, fucked up Tom Cruise is. OK, no not the jumping up and down on Oprah’s sofa. Hell, it’s Katie Holmes. The man deserves some props.
But.
Scientology?
Alright, I knew jackshit about this religion/cult/PR gang but shocking boredom and sweet, sweet internet access changed that tonight. And watch…
The central beliefs of Scientology (or rather the early teachings) are that a person is an immortal spiritual being (referred to as a thetan) who possesses a mind and a body, and that the person is basically good. The life one should lead is one of continual spiritual and ethical education, awareness, and improvement, so that he/she can be happy and achieve ultimate salvation, as well as being more effective in creating a better world. Scientology claims to offer specific methodologies to assist a person to achieve this.
Those that reach the higher levels (Operating Thetan III) within the Church of Scientology will learn all about Xenu, the evil intergalactic ruler who implanted “thetans” or alien spirits, in earth’s volcanoes 75 million years ago, after which they escaped and invaded human bodies. The ultimate belief of Scientology is that you are possessed by the spirits of aliens murdered 75 million years ago by “Xenu” and you have to exorcise these spirits. The cost of reaching OT III approaches $360,000.
Another basic tenet of Scientology is that there are three basic interrelated (and intrinsically spiritual) components that are the very makeup of successful “livingness”: affinity, reality (or agreement), and communication, which equate to understanding. Hubbard called this the “ARC triangle”. Scientologists utilize ARC to enhance their lives, primarily based upon the belief that raising one aspect of the triangle increases the other two.
… From WikiPedia…
Wait.
Aliens?
Seriously?
Volcanoes?
Wait.
Amazing. So thanks to the unbelievable media, Mr. Cruise has not only sucked up the beautiful Miss Holmes (over/under at 7 months) but he’s pushing a religion that’s core belief is that something out of an Animorphs book came true– except that Xenu must be one hell of a warrior princess alien. Wonderful. Then again, he did jump on Oprah’s sofa. Yup. Damn straight.
Remember in high school when summer vacation meant you got to wake up at noon, sit around and do nothing all day, and be out and about as late as need be.
…
Yeah, fucking pools. Though I might set a record for most overtime in a 3 month period at this rate. And my checking account has swollen to previously unseen totals.
So anyways, my bitching for the day should be out of the way (even though I get to wake up, and do the whole thing over again tomorrow, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday–).
I keep hitting a double-enter in the hopes that I have something semi-important/productive/interesting/enlightening to write about. I really don’t. Summer in T-Town has pretty much been relegated to working to pay for Cornell (all you non self-sufficient rich bastard children who are reading this while drinking your Slurpee at 3 am while watching rerun after rerun of Napoleon Dynamite can suck my left nut. You’re not good enough for righty.) so BAM! I have nothing entertaining to write about. Wish.
Eventually maybe. Sooner rather than later. But again, the wrench is back in the plans, so the delay is on yet again. Eventually maybe.
(I like writing like this. It makes me seem much more “in touch” with myself, and shows that it merely dumbs me down.)
There are two reasons we laugh at California.
1.) Arnold Schwarzenegger beat out a porn star, Gary Coleman, and an illegal alien for governor.
2.) Everything causes cancer.
LOS ANGELES (Reuters) - A California consumer legal group is campaigning to require warning labels on potato chips, saying they contain a chemical known to cause cancer and state law requires the warnings.
The Environmental Law Foundation filed notices with the Golden State’s attorney general on Thursday against Lay’s potato chip maker PepsiCo Inc., Pringles maker Procter & Gamble Co., Cape Cod potato chip parent Lance Inc. and Kettle Chips maker Kettle Foods Inc.
The notices give the attorney general’s office 60 days to take up the case on behalf of all Californians. If the state declines to pursue the matter, the group said in the documents that “it intends to bring suit in the public interest” against the companies.
Read the rest at Consumer group wants warning label on potato chips.
Today was pretty much poker day. Lost $50 downtown thanks to some morons chasing gutshots and a series of unfortunate hands that left me on the outside, looking in. One spot from the cash. Played online some, up $50 within minutes, then got outdrawn in a couple of hands, and left after playing like 20 minutes.
No real reason for an update other than that. I’m just bored. And I like my Google PageRank.
No updates in like 3 weeks. This is because, quite simply, my life is all-encompassed by pools. And this is no longer just sitting in a store selling various chemicals for pools. Thanks to a cokehead employee in rehab and a boss who hasn’t found his perfect worker, I’m not only selling stuff for pools, I’m actually doing work on pools. Like physical labor in the hot, hot, evah so hot sun. I know. I don’t believe it either. What can I do?
Got my CU grades back. In shocking fashion I managed to pass Linear Algebra (albeit with a C-minus). The GPA didn’t take a hit thanks to an A in econ, B+ in meteorology, and a B- in Physics. So yeah, now I can sell my textbooks, and pray that I can pass ONE more semester of math (multivariable calculus– or something to that effect).
Other than that, life has been at more or less of a standstill, seen friends, some more than others, some more than I should have, others much less. I want to light fireworks. I don’t want mixed signals. I want my drivebys back. I don’t want any more complaints. I want to be here. I don’t want to be here. Oh wait, is this possibly an enlightened moment— nope, nope, still not a clue in the world.
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