Monthly Archives: June 2011

We’re all responsible for our own actions. Someone said that once, I think. Or maybe I just like to make stuff up. Actually, I know enjoy making things up, but that doesn’t mean that someone else didn’t say it. I have a very Dude like tendency to absorb what I read and hear and see and regurgitate it in some queer and often unintelligible mix. Which leads me to my next point. The original point of this post: Attention Deficit Disorder. 

I’ve got it. I think. Most people who are around me on a fairly regular basis would probably agree. I’d like to blame the Internet, but it started long before I spent my days in front of a computer. During my Algebra II calls in high school I would regularly get bored and just start reading my latest thriller from the library. Or write stupid little programs on my Ti-83 Texas Instruments graphics calculator. Or graph perfectly round, symmetrical boobs, one step above the stuff you could see in the original Duke Nukem game. I wouldn’t go down these paths because I didn’t like math, I did and still do. Numbers give me great comfort, but that’s for a different post. I just had difficultly focusing on one thing for 45 minutes. 

Now, with the click of a mouse I can go to and look at a bunch of funny pictures or memes. Or I can go to twitter and read 140 characters or less about state government, new literature, or Mike Riopell’s latest craig’s list encounter. 

So I find my ADD, though Jamey would say I also have the hyper dimension of ADHD, kicking in and distracting me. Too many tabs on my browser, too much stuff to take in. 

So how do I fix that? Hell if I know. Don’t you think I would have done that already. I often make big pronouncements and declarations that are, admittedly dramatic. Hyperbole if you want to be scholarly about it. So here it goes.

No more Reddit, period. I don’t really gain anything from that aside from a minute squirt of dopamine. I’m going to try and limit the number of tabs I have open on Google Chrome. And I’m going to finish any article I start reading, no matter whether I think it is contrived, boring, or whatever. I figure that training myself to give my full attention to one thing until it is completed will definitely help my lack of focus. 

I’ll give an update in a week or so, hopefully it will be a little bit more concise than this. 

— Dictated but not read

From an Illinois coroner’s resume: “Nationality: White.” I’ve been to White. It’s not that great. The infrastructure’s pretty old and everyone there has an inflated sense of self-worth, especially their press corps and writers. 

I’ve come to the conclusion that the majority of my life is spent stealing things, namely ideas. I steal other people’s speech patterns, I steal other people’s music taste (when they’re good) and I steal story ideas. SO it comes as no surprise that everything posted on here, aside from the complaints about life, work and et cetera, are me stealing ideas from across the Internet.

If you’ve noticed one thing about me, I hope it’s that I love anything associated with the Cold War, especially from right after WWII through about 1985. That brings us to today’s topic de jur: nuked food, and I’m not talking about microwaves.

It turns out, according to this New Science article via io9, people right after WWII were using Colbalt-60 to mutate food. If you don’t know, Colbalt-60 is the stuff that was going to be used in a real-life doomsday device that inspired Dr. Strangelove (best movie ever.) 

A rod of the radioactive element would be placed in the center of a circular garden. The stuff closest would die, the stuff in the middle would grow tumors, but the stuff farthest away would, sometimes, develop USEFUL mutations. In fact, according to the article, 70 percent of the peppermint sold in the US comes from an irradiated strain. 

“If you think of genetic modification today as slicing the genome with a scapel, in the 1960s they were hitting it with a hammer,” said Paige Johnson of the University of Tulsa, OK, in the article.

What I’m wondering is if there is the possibility of giant ants growing underground somewhere, waiting and plotting their eventual takeover of the surface, or if the nuclear experiments just killed a bunch of plants. 

It’s amazing how queer this world can get when sleep can’t be found. I had the hiccups until 4:30 in the morning. I’ve never had hiccups for more than an hour, so to have them haunt me for five plus hours was miserable. I am determined to find a cure for this annoyance. 

Once I have taken over the world and left in my wake awesomeness, I will stand atop the dying corpse of hiccups, my boot on its throat, and show no mercy.