Max: The Disease

I am bleeding from the eyeball.

I am bleeding from the motherfucking eyeball.

Jericho: Plastic Fish

My coworker and I have been talking about getting a fish tank here at work for over a year now. Neither of us have ever had fish and we are both stupid enough to think it will be fun and easy. Pets may be fun, but they are never easy, or cheap. But, like I said, we're morons.

Recently at work there has been a series of shake ups. We're all waiting for the other shoe to drop. Actually, it feels like we're waiting for a whole lot of shoes to drop. An entire chorus line of plummeting Shoes of Doom. Anyway, our jobs are all in question and no one is happy right now.

I was walking through an asian market in the Downtown Seattle area, I found a pair of plastic fish. The fish look like little gold fish, they have little lead weights affixed to the undersides via a bit of fishing line. The package also came with a bit of plastic foliage with it's own weighted bottom. An entire aquarium of fun with none of the work, all for $2.50. I bought it. I found a large clear glass vase, filled the bottom with gravel I had from my Desk Top Bonsai project, added water and dropped in the fish.

My coworker and I talked about this. We both think it's cute in a stupid way. But, with all the shake ups at work, it's probably smarter to bring plastic fish into the equation than the real thing. Plus, if we lost $3 in the shuffle of quickly packing up our desks and hustling out the door, who cares?

Now, there have been days where I found myself jealous of fish. I mean, pet fish have it totally easy. In the wild they are running from predators and waiting to starve to death. In a tank, they are pampered, they don't have to worry about predators, food or even cold water. Just swim. Swim. Swim.

Today, I found myself jealous of those plastic fish. Between the bad vibes at work and the crappy product I support with all the same problems it has had since it was installed four years ago, I'm completely jealous. They just float there. They don't even have to think about breathing. They just exist. They exist in a bubble of clean water that is slowly evaporating away. Do they care that the water is leaving them behind? Of course not! Either some human will refill the vase or they will slowly, over the coming weeks, sink to the bottom. They don't need the water. They don't need food. They don't need anything. They just exist.

Max : Cough Fest

We are pleased to announce that this season's Cough Fest has been extended to a second month. We have never experienced such demand and are grateful for your support. To celebrate this unprecedented second month, we are pleased to announce the return of the green demon shit, appearing all day every day in the lung pavillion. Don't miss the nightly sleep deprivation. Remember, night is when cough fest really swings.

Jericho: Images

I'm a guy. Duh.

Most guys are turned on by sexy images. Duh.

The Internet has lots of sexy images. Duh.

At no time in the history of the Internet has it been so easy to find sexy images. Yee Hah!

Go to Google and use the Image search. You can enter just about any word and find sex. Try using any random word, like, oh, I dunno, try a name. Look up "Laura" and see what you find.

Here's what I found when I "googled Laura" ...

Max: iPod Mini

I have an iPod Mini.

Fuck yeah!

And when they say "Mini" they aren't kidding. When I opened the box I though they had screwed up and given me a cigarette lighter.

Max: Ah Fuck

"We are heartbroken to let you know that Mitch [Hedberg] passed away on Wednesday, March 30, 2005."

"Escalators never break. They just become stairs."
-Mitch Hedberg

Max: The Morons Are In Charge

A tale of customer service, justice and currency as funny as a $2 bill

"PUT YOURSELF in Mike Bolesta's place. On the morning of Feb. 20, he buys a new radio-CD player for his 17-year-old son Christopher's car. He pays the $114 installation charge with 57 crisp new $2 bills, which, when last observed, were still considered legitimate currency in the United States proper. The $2 bills are Bolesta's idea of payment, and his little comic protest, too.

For this, Bolesta, Baltimore County resident, innocent citizen, owner of Capital City Student Tours, finds himself under arrest."

Max: New Scientist - 13 things that do not make sense

New Scientist - 13 things that do not make sense

Interesting reading. Not as interesting as Jericho' Chi-town freakout. But interesting.

Jericho: The Cell

The cell phone rang at about the time the alarm clock was set to go off. I leaped out of bed and grabbed the noisy thing. There was no caller ID. I answered it anyway.

"Hello?"
"Jason?"
"Yeah. Who's this?"
"Hey there, it's God. Thought I'd give you a call."
"It's who?"
"Me. God. I Am Who Am. God."
"Oh. Right. Stop this shit, Max."
"Ya know how you've always wanted a telephone call from God?"
"Yeah."
"Consider this an answered prayer."
"Okay ... but ..."
"Look, kid, we've got to talk. You are way behind schedule."
"Wait - what?"
"Sked. Do. Ull. You heard that Karol died, right?"
"The Pope?"
"Yeah, John Paul Deuce. Anyway, you were slated to be his replacement."
"What?"
"How old are you now? 33?"
"Yes, umm ..."
"You were supposed to be a Cardinal by now. We had to keep Karol on for much longer than we were planning."
"What?"
"Jace, buddy, think about it. Did any of your family get involved with the church? No. So, why did they push you? Why did they put you in Catholic school and make you go to church on Sunday?"
"Guilt and hipocracy?"
"Nooo ... divine intervention. I made them do it."
"Uh-huh."
"You don't get it, do you, kid?"
"Not really. But I think this call is going way past it's funny point, I'm hanging up now."
"Did you like reading Dan Brown's 'Angels and Demons?'"
"Yeah, it was pretty ... wait. How did you ... ? Who is this?!"
"It's God, buddy. Look, you thought it was odd that you finished Angels and Demons the day before JP2 kicked it - right?"
"So?"
"Did you ever think it was a sign from me? You picked up on the Dan BROWN/Jason BROWN thing, right? All the papal refferences? The election by adoration? Huh?"
"It's pretty thin."
"I can only reveal myself so much. I usually only go this far for people I'm really rooting for. HINT!"
"Wait. I read a book and you call that a hint? What was I supposed to get from Harry Potter?"
"Nothing. But it's a fun series of books, eh? The kids are reading them like crazy! I answered J.K's prayer on that one!"
"She wanted to be famous?"
"No. She wanted to show children there is wonder in everything. Her money is meaningless - it gives her the time to write more."
"Umm, yeah, on that point, I'd like to write more, so if you could see your way to forking some ..."
"Whatever! You sit on your hairy, fat ass and want me to do something about your financial situation? Please!"
"Okay, fine, whatever. I can get abused anywhere. This has ..."
"What are you doing right now?"
"Right now?"
"Yeah."
"I was trying to get some sleep - oh, man, it's nearly time to get up!"
"I mean with your life."
"What? The Almighty doesn't know?"
"Don't get defensive. Stay on topic. What are you doing with your life?"
"What does it matter?"
"You have always thought you were destined for something greater. I gave you that thought. If you will, I programmed you with that. It's as far as I will go. The ones who are promising get my Suggestion, the others have The Bible, guardian angels and free will."
"Am I not living up to my potential, oh mighty Lord?!"
"Show me the respect I deserve! I still do a few smitings here and there!"
"Ooookay."
"Jason, I know you aren't taking this seriously. But, think about this all later, okay? You had great potential and you blew it. The potential for greatness is still there - all you have to do is make something with it."
"What? Bullshit! I've got all this potential and no guidance? Whatever! I don't know who you are or what this is about, but if this is 'God' - you have done an even worse job than my biological father! You have never once been there when I needed you. What the hell did you expect?"
"I expected a little faith."
"Faith?!"
"Yeah. Faith. I know for a fact that you have heard of faith. They talked to you about faith for twelve years of catholic school. When I thought you weren't getting the message, I had your friends peer pressure you into becoming an altar boy. You were at church almost everyday and sometimes three times on Sunday. Yet, when the priest was talking about faith, you were staring at Mrs. Turner's boobs!"
"I was young and horny!"
"I know, son."
"They were really nice boobs."
"I know. I was rather proud of how those turned out."
"What am I supposed to do now?"
"What does your heart tell you?"
"My heart and my head have been at war for twenty years. If I'm not looking, my dick or my stomach takes over and then I'm in all kinds of trouble."
"Boy! Are you listening? What. Does. Your. Heart. Tell YOU?"
"Like I said, lots of stuff!"
"Like what?"
"Look, it's complex. Nothing my heart tells me agrees with what my head tells me. I have painted myself into an existential corner and I have no where to go."
"Well, that's a better answer than you gave me two minutes ago. It's still not the answer I'm looking for."
"My heart tells me to create. It tells me to abandon everything and create something. Something big. Something, well ..."
"Yeah, go on"
"Something divine."
"Right! There you go! There's my dog!"
"What?"
"Woof! Woof!"
"What?"
"Nevermind. Look, kid, you've got it. You've always had that, haven't you?"
"Yeah, sure."
"But, look, right there, you just rejected it!"
"Well, yeah!"
"Why?"
"I don't have time. I work. I have obligations. I'm an adult and I have shit to get done."
"Shit?"
"Shit!"
"So, this shit, you don't like doing it, then?"
"Duh!"
"Did you just say 'duh' to God?"
"Look, yeah, I'd rather be chewing my toes off than most of the stuff I do day to day. But what choice do I have?"
"You have to meet me half way, kid."
"Half way?"
"Right. Stick your neck out there. Push the envelope. I'll be there to catch you when you fall."
"Wow. What the hell did that mean? No wonder the Bible sucks!"
"Kid, you have to do the leg work. I will do what I can to keep reality off you."
"That's the best offer you can give me?"
"No. But it's the one you're getting. Think about it. I'll see you MUCH later."

Click.

Max: U B U W E B :: Ketjack

Ketjack:

"'Performed by more than 200 men seated in tight concentric circles around a small central space reserved for the chief protagonists,' the ketjak (loosely called 'Monkey Chant') was first recorded in Bali by David Lewiston and released by Nonesuch Records in 1969. As a spectacular and alternative performance mode, it has had a germinal influence on western performance and poetics since then."

Jericho: Double Wrap

I'm walking down the street, leaving work. This guy steps from the crowd in front of me. I'm used to the beggars by now. They are aggresive and demanding. I pay with plastic - I haven't had change in my pockets for years.

On he comes, I steel myself for the confrontation. This guy is different, he isn't "shabby yet clean and comfortable" like the rest of the jerks hustling the pedestrians. His jaw is set and his eyes never look away from mine. I find I can't break the lock, I can't look away and ignore him.

He stops, well within my space. The street is crowded and I'm trapped. He has me and I know it. Either this guy is going to ask me for money or mug me, I just know it. He's so close. He could do whatever he wants. Short of decking him or crying out for help, I have no choice but to face him. He never breaks the stare, deep into my eyes. Then, he speaks:

"You married?"
"Say what?"
"Married. Are you married?"

Stunned. I realize I'm standing there with my jaw a gape. I have no idea how to respond to this guy. I could push into the crowd and escape, but some morbid curiosity glues my feet to the pavement. This is either the worst approach for money I've ever seen or the best rap ever laid on a white man. I hold up my left hand and wiggle my ring finger. The white-gold ring glitters in the neno and mercury light.

"Um ... yeah."

After opening my mouth, several thoughts occur to me at once. The first being how lame a response that was to this man. Secondly, how stupid it was to show off the only piece of jewery I own or wear to this questionable person. And third, I'm struck by how silly wearing that ring really is - I know I'm married. We wear these rings so that other people know we're married. But, what business is it of theirs? And, if I'm going to the trouble of wearing this ring, why can't this ... person ... take the time to look at my hand before asking this question?

I put my hand down and look back at this guy - our eyes have never disengaged. Again he speaks.

"You married?"
"I just told you."
"You married?"
"Yes!"

He closed his eyes. This was the first time he broke our eye contact. It was brief, almost a blink, but a fraction longer. He looked as if he was composing himself for the big question. I wasn't sure where this was going and I wasn't eager to find out. The crowd had thinned around me and I could easily leave - but, again, I had to know what he wanted. An attraction to insanity has long haunted me, I was getting my fix. He opened his eyes.

"Why?"
"Why am I married?"
"Why?"

My head began to gently shake involuntarily. The crowds were nearly gone and I nearly walked on. There is no easy answer to this simple question. I think I have as many answers as I have days that I've been married and not all of them are positive. Not all of them are for remaining married, most, but not all. I don't have one answer. I just don't.

"I love her and she said yes."
"Right. Excellent."

The man, the bum, the beggar, the person before me turned on his heel and walked away from me. I was left standing on the empty street corner as it began to rain.

Jericho: A Thousand Words

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