The Chaos Theory: Idiot.

Idiot.

I am an idiot.
I'll explain later.

Mosquitoes.

Mosquitoes. I hate the buggers. (For those lucky enough not to know what they are: Mosquitoes are blood-sucking - literally - insects that breed in stagnant water and then torment you). Why? I don't quite understand them. Fine, they are alleged the insect version of the vampire... so why not act accordingly? Why not fly in silently, snack on your (hopefully) unsuspecting prey and then buzz off on their merry way? Nooo... first of all, they only visit when you are trying to get some sleep, be it night or day. Instead, they do fly-bys. They buzz as close as they can get to your ears without landing - while evading your attempts to smash them flat, often slapping yourself in the process - making this incessant, nagging whine. They can keep this up for hours. These damnable creatures are supposed to be attracted by pheromones, those 'smells' we secrete. Now one can be virtually half-naked, but they buzz past my ears. I could be wrong, but I doubt my ears are much of a pereomone-secreting factory. Yet they do their slow, whining drones past my ears. Then they have the temerity to be mating in mid-air, yet still manage to avoid all attempts at slapping them. What kind of creature has the time to do that while doing a mating dance? Mosquitoes, that's who.
Funny enough, that reminds me of some people I know. The type that never goes away. The type that wants to talk - about nothing - when one is trying to read or watch a movie. The type that calls when you are trying to nod off, 'Just to say hello' even thow you saw them or spoke to them not half-an-hour earlier. If you are in the office, they want to drop by to deliver some tidbit of office gossip, interrupting your personal Internet gaming or instant-messaging time.
You know the type.
Another note about pheromones. They are supposed to attract the opposite sex. If that's the case why have I had more blood tests than sex in the past two years and why do so many mosquitoes drop by instead?

Second Hand Smoke

A discussion with someone I've had a non-relationship with for the past 8 years - who also happens to be the subject behind/inspiration of many of these posts - drove me to write this down. That and Four Dinner's Bambi - I think I'd love to meet her. Now, I smoke. I started when I was around 20 I guess, and I swear it has actually helped with my asthma. All irrelevant. Now this is a sensible young lady - an attorney and all.
She says to me that second-hand smoke is more deadly than first-hand smoke.
"Does that make sense to you?"
"Yes."
"Seriously, does that make any sense to you?"
"Yes."
"O.K.... explain it to me then. I fail to see how it is even possible."
"No."
She wants to compromise.
Compromise on what?
I'm going absolute bonkers at the moment.
All the joys of marriage without the sex.
(And where the hell are the posts I've published?)

What So You Do?/Lines I Like

What do you do when you think that someone believes you are not good enough for them… that you are somewhat below them? What if they never actually act that way, or say anything – but every now and then you get the impression that they would be embarrassed to go out in public with you?

Just an impression….but a strong one. Suppose you do manage to be out with that person, but they are always a step or two ahead of you - and you don’t walk slowly - unless you are seated together in a darkened theatre, and she made sure you got there ahead of her, by stopping to talk to a friend or two she didn’t even bother introducing you to?

Or am I just being paranoid?

It crosses my mind that my last post or two have been overtly… personal.

No, that makes no sense. It’s a blog – it’s supposed to be personal. So let’s say that I have been going on too much about my relationships – or total lack thereof.

So let’s talk about other stuff…

I believe that George W. Bush is a money-crazed jackass who might drag the world through the gates of hell for the sake of big business.

I think that if Iran wants nuclear weapons they’ll get them one way or another, so let them build their bloody nuclear reactor.

Ahhh… enough.

How about some of my favourite lines – ones not created by me?

Here goes:

• Jesus Christ died because he forgot the safe word.
• Meat isn’t murder – it’s what’s for dinner.
• You don’t work to enjoy yourself – you work to survive.
• If the plural of mouse is mice, shouldn’t the plural of spouse be spice?
• Every saint has a past, every sinner has a future.
• I even love the things I hate about you.
• Fantasies are better in the head than in the bed.
• I do not regret the things I have done… I regret those I have not.

I’ll do some more another time – I’ll also go into details about my ‘work’ problems.

You Just Don't Do It For Me.

Note: My apologies about my tardiness in keeping this blog o' mine up to date... I really need an Internet connection at home. Better yet, I need a home...

‘You just don’t do it for me’.

After being faced with such words, what do you do? Let go and move on is the logical answer. Easily said, not so easily done I dare say.

I’m not talking love here, I’m talking… interest. I’m talking about liking the way someone looks, thinks and talks in no particular order. I’m talking about experiencing a small tightening in the chest when you get an unexpected glimpse of her, I’m talking about calling her at four in the morning just to hear her voice mail. Is this love? No, but it is interest. You like her.

Really like her. However, you just don’t do it for her.

Move on. Forget. Get over it. Since I have yet to quote a song, Walk On By, from the Soul II Soul classic.

Easy to say.

I have a theory, a thought, an idea. Forget about caring, forget about interest, forget about love. Walk on by. Sure, you might be alone, but that beats getting hurt. I think.

No number of conversations, of little gestures, of expressions of care will make a difference. Sometimes you just lose and have to make your way out of the ring, defeated. You have lost a fight you just could not win. Sometimes you win, more often you lose. Walk on by.

Easy to say.

You just don’t do it for me.

Ouch.

Walk on by.

Walk on by.

I have a friend or two, which may surprise some – God knows it surprises me at times – who both have rather interesting takes on my love life or the lack thereof. One says I love the unattainable. The other says things in a much more graphic way, but then it has been said her mouth needs to be washed out with soap. I have given their opinions some thought and have come to the epiphany that my biggest problem is my belief that love conquers all. Yes, I know I’m not talking about love here, I’m talking about interest, but the same ghosts apply. Walk on by.

Easy to say.

I believe that no matter the difference in social class, perception or any other factor that you might be able to come up with, anything is possible. I believe that one should be able to look beyond the façade societal constraints force you to create and know who you are and appreciate the same. Anything is possible, or so I tend to believe. Then again I might be an idiot, a sentiment many are willing and almost fanatical to endorse. There are so many things that affects what happens in your life that it is, frankly enough, not fair.

Then again, what do I know?

Walk on by.

You just don’t do it for me. Do you pursue or live your life, leaving her beside the detritus of your so-called existence or do you try the ‘let’s just be friends’ crap, knowing that no matter what, something more than mere friendship will be at the back – or more to the point, all over – of your mind?

Walk on by.

Yeah, right.

I’ve asked this before, but do you just let go, do you continue your solo walk down the road called life or do you do an U-turn and try like hell to make your wishes come true?

You tell me.

For the record, phrases such as ‘You just don’t do it for me’ may have been invented for the purposes of this rant. Then again, they may have not. Who gives a freak? Why walk on by or not?.

The choice is yours, and mine. Nothing else matters.

Random nonsense...

Weekends are beginning to scare me? Why? I get bored rather easily, I'm an insomniac and what do I do? I drink like an idiot.
Not good.
I have to admit that I don't understand women.
No, those two thoughts have nothing in common... man, I feel like crap. I'll expand later...

Me A Hypocrite? Apparently...

I'm in something of a quandary here.

Actually, I'm having to deal with the fact that, despite my best efforts, I am in fact something of a hypocrite when it comes to women.

I've tried not to be the 'love 'em and leave 'em' type - If I got into anything woith anyone, they knew what the score was, I like to think.

If I loved, I loved and pursued my endeavours with every atom of my being - to my detriment in some ways, but more about that some other time. If it was just sex, we both knew it.

I grew up, for the most part, with a single mother and I think this coloured my perception of the fairer sex and how I dealt with them. In some way, women are much stronger then men and deserving of respect.

Which leads me to this rant. Nowadays, due to the vagaries of my supposed existence, I find myself in a situation where I help to produce, of all things, a bloody live bikini competition at a nightclub.

For some people, that would be fun. You get the chance to see nubile young ladies in various states of undress, sometimes in bikinis that seem to be on the verge of evaporation and don't get me wrong, I appreciate.

On one side, I'm cool with it - a woman's body is her own, and if she has it, she can flaunt it if she wants.

However, in this case, in my humble opinion, they are getting used.

How so?

They come to the club, sign up, come on the night -having to provide theirown make-up, bikinis, travel expenses etc. - and go out on-stage before a boisterous, and sometimes unkind, crowd, to be paraded like sides of beef, have body parts commented on and ask questions which go beyond racy (Which I write BTW, an e.g. or two? Aside from your body and your looks, WHY SHOULD YOU WIN? or what's the best way for a man to satisfy a woman?).

Out of a field of usually four, there is one winner, while the rest make their way back home, empty-handed. Even the winner gets no material prize - only a spot as one of '20 finalists' in an 'all-island competition'. In other words, she'll have to do it all again.

My problem? The club owner makes money - none of which trickles down to the young ladies in question*. I can't help but think that in addition to be embarrased on-stage (Actually, I'm not sure how many of them are embarrassed, but they'd have to be rather thick-skinned not to be) they are also being used.

Of course, this may be naivete on my part...

Yet, I still do it. I meet the hopefuls, take their details, book their weeks and coach about the process. I'm part of it, and despite what I may say or think about women and how they should be treated, and even if I think it would be no different if I was not involved and that it is their choice etc. etc., I am part of it.

Which I dare say makes me a hypocrite.

* Re: Money trickling down, my comment above is slightly inaccurate. If a young lady or two complains that she's hungry, she'll probably get something to eat, that sort of thing - which in turn deludes her into believing that's she's special. A little sickening actually.

Women And The Things They Do/The Way They're Treated.

I'm in something of a quandary here.Actually, I'm having to deal with the fact that, despite my best efforts, I am in fact something of a hypocrite when it comes to women.I've tried not to be the 'love 'em and leave 'em' type - If I got into anything woith anyone, they knew what the score was, I like to think.If I loved, I loved and pursued my endeavours with every atom of my being - to my detriment in some ways, but more about that some other time. If it was just sex, we both knew it.I grew up, for the most part, with a single mother and I think this coloured my perception of the fairer sex and how I dealt with them. In some way, women are much stronger then men and deserving of respect.Which leads me to this rant. Nowadays, due to the vagaries of my supposed existence, I find myself in a situation where I help to produce, of all things, a bloody live bikini competition at a nightclub.For some people, that would be fun. You get the chance to see nubile young ladies in various states of undress, sometimes in bikinis that seem to be on the verge of evaporation and don't get me wrong, I appreciate.On one side, I'm cool with it - a woman's body is her own, and if she has it, she can flaunt it if she wants.However, in this case, in my humble opinion, they are getting used.

How so?They come to the club, sign up, come on the night -having to provide theirown make-up, bikinis, travel expenses etc. - and go out on-stage before a boisterous, and sometimes unkind, crowd, to be paraded like sides of beef, have body parts commented on and ask questions which go beyond racy (Which I write BTW, an e.g. or two? Aside from your body and your looks, WHY SHOULD YOU WIN? or what's the best way for a man to satisfy a woman?).
Out of a field of usually four, there is one winner, while the rest make their way back home, empty-handed. Even the winner gets no material prize - only a spot as one of '20 finalists' in an 'all-island competition'. In other words, she'll have to do it all again.My problem? The club owner makes money - none of which trickles down to the young ladies in question*. I can't help but think that in addition to be embarrased on-stage (Actually, I'm not sure how many of them are embarrassed, but they'd have to be rather thick-skinned not to be) they are also being used.Of course, this may be naivete on my part...Yet, I still do it. I meet the hopefuls, take their details, book their weeks and coach about the process. I'm part of it, and despite what I may say or think about women and how they should be treated, and even if I think it would be no different if I was not involved and that it is their choice etc. etc., I am part of it.Which I dare say makes me a hypocrite.
* Re: Money trickling down, my comment above is slightly inaccurate. If a young lady or two complains that she's hungry, she'll probably get something to eat, that sort of thing - which in turn deludes her into believing that's she's special. A little sickening actually.

Abortion: Wrong or Right?

I saw a man today, a man I didn't know,
He was running from another, one dressed all in blue.
He dropped a bag before he ran,
I was so amused,
He didn't look a day under 50,
yet he ran like he was 22.
I smiled to myself and wondered why, two men would do such things.
Then I just smiled and closed my eyes, and tried to let Morpheus bring what he brings.
Yet I saw no such thing, because I have never been born.
I read a book today,
written with such skill.
Inspiring, this was no run-of-the mill.
I read a book today,
something of a dive
I read a book today, and actually wished I were alive.
Chances offered, chances missed
Intimacy offered, cold lips kissed
Yet I was never born, sacrificed on a cold metal table
Never to do the things of which I may have been able.
A life cut short before it really got started
Chances of love and laughter thwarted
Plucked from the warm darkness of the womb
Flushed down the toilet, my personal doom
I wish I had the chance, to live
I would have so much to give
I would
If I could
But I can't
So I won't

Abortion. How much thought do we give to it? What about the lives that never get a chance to even begin, the people who will never have the chance to hear someone sing?
I'm being corny I know, but I believe everyone should have at least one chance, and it seems unfair to take the same away, when that chance is something called life. Who are we to decide when a foetus becomes human, in order to convince ourselves that the act is not murder? Talk about rationalisation... Usually when I discuss this topic, my stance is that I'm OK with the concept if rape was involved or if the pregnancy is life-threatening. However, when I stop to think about it, I know rape is a traumatic experience and one would probably not want a perpetual reminder of the experience, but is it the potential human being's fault that it happened? With regards to the latter, well that's a bit more difficult to call. How comfortable would you feel about knowing that you are sacrificing another's life to save your own? I don't know ...
Where did this topic pop up from? I have no idea -- I was sitting in front of my computer and my mind was simply... invaded. I had to get it into words, because to do otherwise would have been aborting the idea, and we couldn't have that could we?
God , this sucks ...

I've always Wondered...

WHEN A WOMAN says 'He makes me feel like a woman', this would be as opposed to what exactly?
On Resurrection Day, what will happen to people like astronomer and atheist/agnostic Carl Sagan, who was cremated and his remains shot into space?
He'd probably have an extremely short second lease on life.
If a man must walk down a certain number or roads before he can call himself a man, how many pairs of shoes must a woman own before she can call herself a woman?
Not Fair
Is there a special sort of hell reserved for politicians and lawyers? It doesn't seem fair to stick them in with the rest of us.
If good Catholics and Protestants go to heaven, Buddhists to Nirvana and good Hinduists become cows, where do good Obeah men and women go when they die?
Just what do you have to be doing for the police to decide that you are acting 'suspiciously'? Breathing perhaps?
When a man tells a woman she is right, does she actually believe him or does she just want to hear him say it?
If Cable and Wireless always dismisses a top-level executive or two every time a new player enters the scene or makes a play, how many companies would it take for their entire upper echelon to disappear?
How long will it be before the Broadcast Commission decides The Cartoon Network must be scrambled for the protection of the nation's children?
When will fast food delivery companies realize that there are people downtown who do eat and are willing and able to pay for the 'privilege'?
When drug mules who have swallowed drugs and get to where they are going - or are arrested for that matter - whose job is it to retrieve the drugs and how is it done? (Let's not even think about the poor fool taking the damn thing).
When will most church leaders realize they are just like the Pharisees of Jesus Christ's time and as such do not have much to look forward to?
If it is 'shallow' to be attracted to a woman because of the way she looks, could women be kind enough to carry business cards which honestly describe their personalities? Words and phrases like harridan, shrew, insecure, control freak and bitch are perfectly acceptable.
Flaunt on baby
Another thing, if women do not like men staring at and/or commenting on various body parts, why don't they dress accordingly? On the other hand, if you've got it and revel in honest appreciation, flaunt on baby!
Wrong or right
Why don't politicians have expiration dates? You know, so they expire after a certain number of broken promises or lies? Fainting spells do not count - although they might be a hint...
If a politician lies every time his or her lips move, why are they being re-elected ad nauseum?
The tagline for the movie Dawn Of The Dead is 'When there is no more space in hell, they will walk the Earth'. However, as my brother so aptly asks, if there are space constraints in the afterlife, why not just send them to heaven? It should be a lot less populated...
Finally, if a man says something where no woman can hear him, is he still wrong?

When Will They Get The Message?

I GOT A rather uncomfortable look into the psyche of taxi drivers the other day, and let's just say I'm more worried about taking public transport than ever.
I've been in more accidents than any human being should have to sit through, and each and everyone of them happened while I was in a taxi. Go figure. For the record, one is one too many...
Going back to my initial point -- It was around three one morning and I was passing the Portmore Mall when making my way home. There was an event going on, so I, in my infinite wisdom, decided to take a look. I paid a hard-earned $200 for the 'privilege' of hearing Vybz Kartel deejay about the way women should reciprocate for having received certain 'favours' from him (I really find that song disturbing, and I'm a difficult individual to worry) when the lights went out. Literally.
The idea of a refund was, of course, a waste of time so I made my way out and eventually found myself a taxi. (For the record, it can be rather hard for a single male to get a cab, which kind of makes sense in this day and age).
The driver immediately did his best to scare the living daylights out of me by pulling a U-turn at around 50 miles per hour, putting quite a few people in danger of life and limb in the small, enclosed space. When, clutching on for dear life, I informed him that I was not in that much of a hurry to get home, I was promptly informed that "Yow, a Portmore taximan yuh a talk to yuh kno, a wha yuh a talk 'bout?". Well, at least I know why there are so many accidents involving taxi drivers...
Another encounter took place one New Year's Eve going into the day ahead. Actually, to be entirely accurate, it took place on New Year's Day, at around five in the morning. There I was, wandering around New Kingston when I decided to make my way home - I did have to be at work later, after all (That was just so wrong). So, again I grabbed a taxi.
Oops.
I had not drank way nearly enough to be prepared for the ride. Again I was regaled with tales of how quickly taxi cabs have to travel. Me, I was pleading how quickly I did not have to go - not that it helped. He responded by saying "Ah Portmore taxi this yuh kno''" while I was clinging on out of sheer desperation. Me, I don't get it. How many taxi drivers die for odd reasons on a daily basis, and when will they get the message? Frankly enough, if they want to kill themselves that is their business, but I do not want them to take me with them.

Some Things I Hate

(This is actually something I wrote some time ago, but the sentiments still stand)

Some Things I Hate
IT'S NEVER TOO late to learn how to play the piano.
Tell me, does anyone else's idiotic Microsoft Word 'helper' deliver bon mots such as this? Just curious...
I've decided I will be making absolutely no sense today. What's that you say? I've never made any sense? Oh well...
So it's never too late to learn how to play the piano. Hmmm... do I actually want to learn how to play the piano? Granted, I do want to learn how to play a musical instrument, but the piano? I don't know.

I hate the fact that although I am getting older, I, in no way seem to be getting wiser.
I hate the fact that unrequited love exists.

In fact, I hate Cupid. Is he half blind or something? If you are going to shoot me, shoot her as well, for God and my sanity's sake.
I hate the fact that there are so many dumb drivers on the road, who do stupid things and then act surprised when they end up in an accident - if they happen to survive the same. Frankly enough, I couldn't care less if they do, it's the innocents they may take with them that worry me.
I hate overtaking, unless it is really necessary. Actually, I still hate it even if it is necessary. I have seen and been in way too many accidents...
I hate it when friendships come to an end for reasons I cannot quite discern. Friendships - true friendships - are few and far between and are hard to come by.
I hate Jamaican politics. How many people have died for it, in the names of people who could not give an act of running sexual intercourse at a flying duck at whether they lived or died?
At times, I hate responsibility. Have you ever thought about how interesting life would be if you did not have to care one whit about anyone else but you?
I hate politics and what it makes some idiotic people do - and you can read that any way you want to. In fact, you should.
I hate the fact that there are so many people out there filled with hopelessness, and see nothing in the way of a better and brighter future. Who see nothing in fact, but darkness and despair. Teenage pregnancy. Children giving birth to children and the problems that ensue.
I hate George W. Bush, who seems to think he is God, the entire Iraq scenario, with no weapons of mass destruction but lots of oil for the taking? I only feel sorry for the soldiers who are dying for an unjust cause.
I hate seeing talent going to waste. There are so many talented people here in dis old island of Jamaica that have potential which will never see the light of day because either they don't know the right people, don't have the money to buy off the same, or are ignored because they are involved in areas of the arts not considered 'Jamaican'. Whatever the hell that is.
I could go on, but... let's leave some venom for another time. So I will end with this - I hate it when people give up. This may sound like a cliché, but it is true. We always have a choice. Just make the right one.
Oh, and just for the record, we men would much prefer if women came and told us whether or not you want to sleep with us or not. The dance can get rather boring at times.

The Beginning...

I haven't got much to say at the moment, but I'll get there sooner or later... I'm Chaos, and I'm an idiot. That'll do for starters.

The Silly Things We Do... (Organised Religion)

ASK ME NO questions, I tell you no lies. God, Allah, Buddha, Jesus Christ, Mohammed, whoever, whatever, how stupid can we get? I say this without any degree of fear or shame whatsoever - organized religion is the biggest scourge of mankind since some wiseass decided to put down in writing what their opinion of the thoughts of a higher power are.
I find it odd, to put it mildly, the fact that all the major religions on this damned planet called Earth have peace as their major tenet, yet so many damned people have died as a result of the same.
Take for example, the Crusades. A British king or two or three, take it into their dumb-ass heads to go into Turkey and wherever else and try to convince all and sundry that Jehovah is the only way forward by fire and sword. This on the behalf of a Jesus Christ who, by all accounts, could have laid waste to entire armies by just blinking if he felt like it but decided not to.
I am quite aware that I am offending quite a number of people by saying this, but do I care? Not one bit? In fact, there is one particular doctor, who the last time I went off on organized religion suggested I become a bus driver, that I look forward to hearing from.
Where am I coming from? Think of the Spanish Inquisition. People were burnt at the stake for God's sake. To put this fully in context, people were tied to a wooden pole and fags of wood around them set on fire, burning them slowly, very slowly, to death, This in the name of God.
Hmmm, I realize that I have not quite explained where I am coming from with this particular rant of mine. One year, over 200 people were killed in the Nigerian city of Kaduna because of the 'Miss World' competition. To be more accurate, a newspaper columnist suggested that the prophet Mohammed would have selected a wife from among the contestants at the beauty pageant. In response, some Muslim idiots (And I say this without fear, so if y'all wanna launch a Jihad, be my bloody guest, just keep in mind that I will not be pulling a Rushdie just because y'all) proceed to kill 200 people. Now, keep in mind that this is a religion that preaches that men will be rewarded in Paradise by bloody virgins whom they can use as they will. (For the record, this is not something I endorse - I do have a mother and sister after all. Then again, I'm not Muslim).
Just to make my point clear, this stupidity is not limited merely to Muslims. I have already mentioned the Crusades and the Spanish Inquisition (go check your history books) and I have to admit that Buddhism seems to be the most ... honest of them all. If there have been any massacres in its name, they managed to escape my attention.
Hinduism, on the other hand, supports a caste system that I would like to think that any sensible person would object to with all their heart, will and soul. After all, who can with a clear conscience support the classification of thousands of people as 'Untouchables'? Then again, sensible people seem to be in short supply, so what do I know? I'll admit, you will not catch me trying to not step on every bloody ant that might happen to cross my path nor will you find me worrying what I may be reincarnated as, but at the same time you will not see me attempting to kill someone because they do not believe in the same things I do.
At the end of the day, my point is this, God, Allah, Shiva, whoever, whatever, wherever, did not put us here in order for us to be killing ourselves for any number of abysmally stupid reasons. To use that goddamned cliché, can't we just get along?