Thursday, June 26, 2008

Repressive Compulsive

I need to start by writing this little disclaimer: I am not encouraging people to look these up. It's why I didn't provide hyperlinks - I'm protecting my own arse, and shielding yours too. But hey, I'm not the boss of you...

When somebody links me something over MSN (invariably Uriah or Sean, sick bastards that they are), I feel compelled to click it. Not because I have an urge to scrape my own eyes out, and not because I want to test the boundaries of what the human body can actually tolerate, but because it's THERE. The winking little box in my taskbar has 'click me' written all over it, likewise for the blue text in my chat window.

The most dangerous links are the ones prefaced by 'LOL!'

For example:

Uriah: LOL! Check this out!


Sam: I hate you so much right now.

It's at that point that I'm groping for the 'close window' button, whilst at the same time being compelled to link it to others. If someone 'got' me, then I shall 'get' someone else. It's like the Circle of Life, sans the talking baboon.

This behaviour got me thinking. Why is it that I click? I just KNOW that the chance of me seeing something I will regret witnessing is considerably higher than 50%, but I click regardless. Is it the desire to see the quality 40% of links, is it blind trust, or is it a thirst for knowledge that drives me right index finger?

I can conclude wth some certainty that it boils down to my desire to leave no task unfinished (within reason. I'm glad I quit some things). When that dark blue box flashes at me, I must click. I need to click. I YEARN to click.

What happens next has become increasingly familiar activity (and I'm not ashamed at all. Eye for an Eye and all that). What I will do is tell the linker to go fuck themselves, before linking it to as many of my other online friends as possible. Sometimes I'll link it to people when they are offline, just so they can experience the rich bounty of the internet as soon as they get home from work.

Some of the classic (it doesn't mean they're good) eye-gouging moments are now internet lore. Meatspin for instance, or TubGirl, or Lemonparty, Cakefarts, or that video of the Serbian prisoner of war who gets his throat cut near Kosovo (the gurgling alone is disturbing, let alone the fear and panic in his eyes). Kids in a Sandbox is terrible, and 2girls1cup is something which need not be seen by anyone. Although, I saw that (at 9:30 in the damn morning, thanks Uriah haha), so I figure you should too.

Is it a warmly-embraced and minor case of OCD here or is it just something that we in the digital age have learned to accept?

Julius Caesar is famous for saying Veni Vidi Vici.

I'd like to become famous for saying Veni Vidi Clicki.


Monday, June 16, 2008

Defining Facebook/Online friends

Rikki Hill's comment about Facebook friends the other day inspired this.

So blame her.

What is a Facebook friend? From what I've gathered in my few months here it can mean different things to different people. One very popular model is the 'If-I-know-your-name-or-have-met-you-once-in-my-life-then-I-will-add
-you-as-a-friend-and-we-will-be-Best-Friends-Forever-lol'. I'm not sure I understand this mindset. In real life, do you immediately call someone you've met a friend? I don't. Many of the people I have met in my life can very clearly be classified as 'a dickhead' or 'a stupid bitch'. These people do not qualify as Facebook Friends. Likewise for the friendly people I have met during my life. I would not call all of them 'friends' by any stretch. If anything, they are 'people I know/met a couple of times'. At best, they are acquaintances. I have nothing against them, I just wouldn't call them a friend.

Another Facebook Friend model is the 'This-group-of-people-is-very-tight-knit-and-
are-people-I-speak-to-every-day'. There is nothing wrong with this model, it's just that it's a small one. It could be that you have a very small, very important group of friends who you stay in contact with, and are quite happy to relegate everyone else to the 'acquaintance' pile.

The third model is the 'Hi-my-goal-is-to-have-the-whole-world-on-my-friends-list.' These people add others indiscriminantly. Tila Tequila is an example. She is, apparently, the record holder for MySpace friends. Can't say I blame them, she is an attractive young lady, but that's it. Most people on that page are just another brick in the wall.

'wow u r hot + i like u do u want 2 b my grl frend?'

No, no she doesn't. She wants you to go back to school and learn how to read and spell. That way, when you are sent a rejection letter, you'll be able to understand it.

My Facebook list is a proud member of the fourth model. This list is made up of real-life friends (they breathe, they have skin, and they (well, most of them) have a pulse). These people are some of the ones that I like. I talk with (or used to talk with) these people on a regular basis and hold no ill-will towards them. I have many friends who AREN'T on this list, purely because they don't have Facebook. If one of these people was in some sort of trouble and needed a place to stay for the night, then I would happily oblige without batting an eyelid. If they needed to stay for a second night well, I'd have to check my OTHER list and see if they're on it...

Personally, I do not add people I just met, unless of course we hit it off rather well. I do not Confirm people who add ME if I don't know them. I do not add people when the only thing I know about them is their name, and I do not add people who do not fit the fourth model. If someone is my friend, they are my friend, if they are not, then they are not. I take words like 'friend' seriously, and I think others would do well to do the same.


Thursday, June 5, 2008


I understand a want for efficiency and getting Value for Money. I desire these things as much as the next guy, unless the next guy is a hypermiling enthusiast like <--- these guys. I appreciate the fact that they're trying to get bang for buck, but jesus christ, why the hell would you want to do 22 mph in a 55 mph zone? To me that's like dying a little bit inside. I struggle enough getting stuck behind a car going 80km/h in a 100km/h zone. Screw inflicting that kind of torture on myself deliberately.

The balance between efficiency and 'getting what you pay for' is thrown way off here for one very good reason: He's DRIVING SOMEWHERE in a CAR on a ROAD.

'I'm deliberately going slower than everyone else on the road because I would like to get to where I'm going as SLOWLY AS POSSIBLE.'

If he was content in plodding along to his destination, why didn't the lazy bugger walk?

If I want to go somewhere, and I have the opportunity to get there faster and therefore more efficiently in regard to time, then I try to get there as fast as legally possible. If I'm doing a job, I want to do an excellent job in the shortest time possible. Why would I take longer just for the sake of splitting hairs?

'Yes' petrol prices are going up, 'yes' we all want to save money, and 'yes' we all earn browny points for 'saving the whales, dude', but is driving erratically, avoiding using brakes PURELY to preserve momentum worth it JUST to save those few extra dollars?

'Do I brake early enough to come to a halt safely, knowing that everyone else on the road will do the same? Or do I coast that little bit longer at an excrutiatingly slow speed in an attempt to save a little bit of fuel only to have everyone else backed up behind me tooting their horns and getting increasingly maddened by my anal approach to fuel economy, therefore reducing their awareness for what else is happening on the road?'

Gee, decisions decisions. A pile-up worthy of the news and the added stress to boot? Or a more relaxed and safer driving experience?

I'm as big a fan of getting the High Score as everyone else, but not at the expense of the safety of others.

Green with ____

Fill in the space in the title and you win a prize. It could be a trip on the French Riviera, it could be a Kick in the Teeth - you decide!

The topic of today's rant is 'Jealousy', and what a fun topic it is. What is its purpose in today's society? I understand that it is the catalyst which inspires birds to fluff their plumage, or fish to wave their fins, or lizards to do a strange waving dance, but in relation to us in this day and age, what is its purpose?

In bygone days, I am positive that it was a chemical reaction designed to encourage territorialism. If 'territorialism' wasn't a word before today, then congratulations; you just witnessed the birth of a new word.

In regard to today's society, all it does is bring the red haze down in front of the eyes and the inhibition unit in the brain to take a holiday.

'Oh, is that jealousy? You need this headspace for a bit? No problem, I'll just go over here should I? Let me know when you're done.'

More often than not it brings out the Dickhead Factor, that wonderful human equivelant to a peacock displaying its tail. The most common form is two blokes making eyes at each other (in the violent way, not the gay way) until one snots the other. In my case, it brings out a stream of consciousness, all of it internalised, that is over and done with in about 5 seconds, leaving only a remnant to fester for two more days. I'll be in a foul mood, but the feeling will pass.

It used to bring out my innate competitiveness, but it doesn't anymore, at least not since I realised that my ground state of being is in fact one of innate competitiveness, thus rendering any new incarnation instantly redundant. I have alot of time to consider these things while I'm at work (if you were wondering). You'll know when my feathers are ruffled when I become competitive for no apparent reason. I usually won't care about winning, rather, I'll care about not losing, or at least making the other guy lose horribly.

So, with that in mind, what the fuck is the best way to deal with jealousy? One doesn't have a nest to build, one doesn't have an ornate tail to display, and one certainly does not have the time, energy or inclination to get out of one's car and slam someone's head in a door again and again and again and again and again.

What is the easy answer?

/rant off

Incidentally, and on a completely different note, does anyone know where I can get rid of the body of a 20-year-old blonde male, weighing approximately 80 kilogrammes?

Alcoholism 101

What makes a good drink?

Is it the taste? Is it the buzz? Is it the after-effect? Is it the atmosphere in which you consume it? Is it the stigma attached to it? I'm interested to know.

For me, it's a combination of taste and after-effect. If it tastes good, then the buzz isn't important, it's merely a pleasant side-effect. If I don't feel sick after drinking it, then that's a bonus too, because no one likes feeling ill.

The atmosphere in which I drink something is immensely unimportant as well. I have have many excellent nights where all I have had to drink is beer. I have also had many awful nights where all I have had to drink is beer, so, as you can imagine, atmosphere is completely redundant to me.

The stigma is a tricky one, because there are so many different ones attached to so many different drinks.

According to one friend of mine, if you drink Gin and Tonic, you are a woman in the 1920's. I find myself completely unable to argue with this position, because it cracks me up.

For the record, I quite enjoy a Gin and Tonic (See previous Note: An experiment).

According to Keanu Reeves in 'Street Kings', Vodka is odourless and buzz-inducing. Therefore we can see that odourless + buzz-inducing = fun times with handguns. I would much rather think that Vodka is a drink reserved strictly for poor Russians who have nothing to pass the time with. This concept makes me laugh. I love crazy Russians.

For the record, I quite enjoy Vodka too (and it disinfects your WHOLE digestive system. Need I say more?)

According to those prats in the movie 'Sideways', 'Red wine is a beverage which is tasty, alcoholic, and should be consumed frequently' (I'm paraphrasing here since I've only seen half the movie, and that was a long time ago). I don't disagree with this at all since, yes, red wine is tasty, alcoholic, relaxing, and warmth-inducing. It's just a shame that so many wankers drink it and wax lyrical about its 'oaky, earthy, fruity, and full-bodied assault on the palate'.

Again, for the record, I quite enjoy red wine because it's tasty and relaxing. You can ram those fruity, oaky, earthy and full-bodied adjectives up your arsehole for all I care.

OKAY... A MAN walks into a TALENT agency

'...blah blah blah The Aristocrats!'

What better way to start my rant than to use an over-hyped and over-used inside joke told only to crowds of drunken comedians? No, 'Once upon a time' is not better. Not much better. Fine. Fuck you, I'll do it.

Once upon a time there was a man named Sam.

(Sam waves at the three people reading this).

Sam was unhappy with his job fixing things that IDIOTS had broken, so he passed the time singing songs and talking to himself behind his crappy and ineffective breathing mask. He became so good at this that he spent some time in a the psych ward at the Royal Adelaide Hospital where he learned to connect with himself and nature (he spent his free time wanking in the Botanic Gardens).

When he got out/was released, he realised that there was so many things to live for - alcohol, gaming, wallowing in self-pity, wishing that one day he would wake up dead (paradoxical I know, but we're not talking about a completely sane and rational person here). He lived life to what he perceived to be the fullest, which, funnily enough, landed him in exactly the same position he found himself in in the first place.

As the Puerto Ricans say (or at least said in South Park) '¿QuĂ©'

The point I'm getting at here, if you can see it through the quasi-fictional haze that is the above paragraph, is 'Why do we do it?' Why do we constantly throw ourselves at hopes and desires and goals only to be met with failure, and, at worst, derision and scorn?

Use myself as an example; someone who only lets the closest of friends know anything about me for... reasons of my own. Is it because I fear rejection/scorn/confrontat
ion, thus rendering my perceived 'need' to open up redundant?
Maybe, but this isn't Doctor Phil so we won't go into it any further. Close those gates, erect those barricades.

I would bet someone else's left leg (fuck losing my own), that alot of teenagers of the black hair, black nails, white face variety would say 'It's true, life is meaningless. You're born, you die.' Actually, they would say 'Your born, U die', but fuck them and their idiocy.

Fuck I hate emos.

Do they have a point though? Is our sole purpose on this little blue and green dot of ours to survive and multiply? 20 hours ago I certainly felt that it was (and that was after our stunning 13-2 win where I scored 6 goals. Go Team Scapegoat!). If you can work out the ever-elusive 'Why' which was the catalyst for this article then I'll give you 10 points.

After a day of thought (I have alot of time for this), and after many Oasis songs (I'll write about them another time), I have come to the conclusion that I hate emos and almost everything they live for. They always forget the most important part of their tiny tiny and, above all, SMALL look on life. You're born, YOU LIVE, then you die.

I'm not about to get evangelical or anything, I can promise you of that. Anyone who knows me AT ALL (do you fit in this category, hmm?) knows that I detest religion and the bullshit rhetoric that goes with it (offended? I don't care).

The LIVING part of that famous and rather depressing sentence is what matters. The reason we throw ourselves at goals and hopes and dreams and desires is that we know, we just KNOW that there will be a payoff at the end that will make everything worth it.

We play sport and stretch our bodies to exhaustion in the hopes that we will experience the euphoria of a win, and not the crushing depression of defeat.

We work at our jobs, regardless of how menial, with the knowledge that, eventually, our hard work will be rewarded (with either future careers, money, praise, or whatever else floats your boat).

We build up the courage to talk to people we've never met before in the hopes that we can enter into a relationship with them, be it, friendly, romantic, or... no, I think those are the only things things that apply here.

Our PURPOSE is to Experience. I assure you that it is deserving of the capital 'E'. Our PURPOSE is to live in a way that makes us happy. Not to make other people happy, not to make some invisible and imaginary God happy, not for 'the good of all', but for ourselves.

Be yourselves, be ourselves, be yourself, be myself.

A similar (and very applicable) E word would be 'Epiphany', and it's a good one as long as you remove the religious connotations.

It's almost funny, were it not so interesting. I started this piece/article/story with a view to write a Vodka-fueled rant about how prick-teasing women piss me off no end (string you along, then BAM! All your hopes and dreams up in a cloud of smoke), but instead I thought I'd articulate the thought process that followed that colourful snapshot.

There IS always a silver lining, there IS always an open window when the door closes, there IS always an upshot, and there is always some smartarse motherfucker stooging around waiting to expound the value of the preceding statements.

I'd just like to think that people now understand what 'silver lining' actually means.

Cheers for reading my Thursday Rant.

Keeping Score

It's time for another Posted Note by Sam Kellett. Go me.
I didn't get a job today, so I'm in the process of an experiment I like to call 'How many Gin and Tonics does it take before you fall asleep?'

It's an interesting question, and one that I'm sure alot of people are keen to have answered. For the record, each of the G&T's I have at home = 2.5 standard drinks. I know because I measured it. Yes, I once measured my own drink because I was interested. Now fuck off.

So, as part of my experiment, I have proceeded to pour myself a couple or five. Before I got the 'LOL, you totally didn't get that job you wanted' email, I had had 2 of my drinks.

2x2.5 = 5 (for those of you playing at home).

After I got the email, I drained the new drink that was sitting next to me (number three) in a vain attempt to wash away the bad news.


It didn't work, but it did make me feel warm inside. And immune to Malaria.

If you think that's a flippant remark, look up 'Quinine' on wikipedia, but I digress...

After receiving the email, I had a drink with dinner.

4x2.5=10 (if my math screws up, then we know that the experiment has progressed somewhat)

The drink with dinner was lovely. It was wet, it was cold, it was alcoholic, and it was gone quite quickly. Isn't learning fun?

I then decided to have an after-dinner drink (at which point I realised that I concentrate on grammar alot).

5x2.5= um... let's see... I'll take off my socks for this one... 12.5

Once again, go me. So, at this point, I'm 12.5 standards in the hole, and, as I've had these over a period of, let me check the clock, 1.5 hours, I am legally declared unfit to drive for the next... 12.5... 2 drinks in the first hour, one every after.... few hours. You have to offset that against the tonic water and the amount I've had to eat too, so I'll be ok to drive at about 2am (not that I will be, that would be stupid and sleep-depriving).

I'll keep you updated!

The next helpful Note In The Series will be 'Is Gin a depressant? Part 2'

UPDATE: (I actually typed DUPDATE, but that isn't important)

It turns out that 6 G&T's (read: 15) is what is takes to make me feel sleepy. So what I'm going to do now is sit up in bed with some Oasis playing in the background, and finish reading a book that I started reading a few days ago. If I get thirsty, I'll keep all you readers (about what, 3 of you?) in the loop.

I'll tell you what Computer Game character I am...

In Star Wars, the Emperor tells Luke Skywalker that 'Anger will make you strong', whereas Yoda tells young Luke that 'Anger leads to the Dark Side'.

In Real Life, Sam (that's me, you cheeky bastards), says 'Anger is, to a point, justified by the cause'.

My rationalisation is this: I wanted to know what video game character I was (for those of you playing at home, the answer is "Zollerin, Mage, from World of Warcraft"), so I entered my answers, and forwarded the invite to the 5 required friends.
After sending said invite, I get a message saying 'You can't find out which video game character you are until your friends accept the invite.'

Tell me, what is the use of that? Did Sonic need 5 friends to tell him that he was a hedgehod (a blue one at that), that could run fucking quick? I'm going to say 'No'.

Did Master Chief need 5 friends to tell him 'You know, dude, if you had some sick armour, you could totally save the universe an' shit'?

Did Max Payne need 5 friends to tell him 'Mate! You have a kick-arse name that would work well in a film-noire love story that defies the archetypal revenege-story genre?' I'm going to bet 'No', but I wouldn't be surprised if the answer was 'Yes'.

I think I am entirely justified in being mad (having articulating outlined my reasons by citing well-known and pivotal video-game characters).

If you think my... displeasure is unjustified, feel free to say why in the comments section which is ----> that way, and down a bit

Wednesday, June 4, 2008

Oh noes! The Blogsphere - Read this first

Why confine my rants to a Facebook page?

I figure I'll post here what I post there, because the word on the street is that book deals are offered to everyone with a blog within a day of signing up.


Old stuff is coming soon, new stuff is coming after that. It won't be weekly, but that's the only vaguely memorable name I could make whilst still retaining 'Sam' and 'Rant'.

Stuff is arranged thusly:

New stuff is at the bottom, Old stuff is at the top, Middle stuff is in the middle. It makes more sense that way. Who wants to read part 6 without reading part 1? Not me, and therefore, not you either.