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Glot

Please Welcome Sweden and the Philippines

At first it seems these two illustrious countries have nothing to do with one another.

Sweden, land of fjords, vikings, linganberry wine, and (if my travels overseas are any indication) a whole lotta amazingly-accented Indian girls. And the The Philippines! What can I say? You’ve got volcanoes that can evacuate entire regions of space, I hear sometimes you fish with dynamite, and you probably still have that beer brand with a monkey. What could these two possibly have in common? If you said, “nothing”… Ha! Well, that is true, except for maybe one thing: in the past week, stray webfarers in both those countries happen to have visited this friggin’ site. This thing actually gets read in other countries. I am an ambassador to the world, whether you believe it or not, world.

Visitor map from Google Analytics - Sweden AND the PhillipinesNot since the Rocky Horror Discovery Scare of ’04 have I even been conscious that there might be people poring over The Glot, people I hadn’t personally met. Looking for information. Googling “checklist+post+death+planning” in all seriousness, only to find my smarmy, self-bemused, wholly overrated misrepresented site pinging their naive Googledar. What if that Swede’s only brother just died, in a sled crash involving drunk reindeer perhaps, leaving that poor Swede to make all the funeral arrangements? He doesn’t know the steps! He needs me to tell him. And what do I wanna do? Get into a bar fight over beer nuts. Wonder of wonder, horror of Rocky Horrors!

Every goal has a dark side. I would like to make my blog glot a place where more people would like to visit. Even have another entity appreciate my silly writing. One outside the immediate single genetic degree of family. A human entity too, since those lurky MSNbots obviously get a hearty kick outta my material already. Comment, damned robots! But every once in a while, you’re gonna have to disappoint some grieving Swede. That’s life. Seriously though—who wants to plan post-death? Not a lot of forethought in that search, boy-o.

Sweden and Philippines, I give you my hat tip. You may not have found my site useful. You may not have stayed longer than a minute. You may have even web-snorted in contempt at this tiny, indulgent, gaudy, blog-like, and oversyllablistic web-shite that Google mis-pinged to you… maybe. I thank you for your votes of confidence nonetheless.

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Glot-glot

Lan Dow Nunder

Attention visitor! There is no new glot for you here. The Glotmaster has travelled very far to glot from an entirely different continent, and you can sample his incredible excursion to the wonderful land of Oz right here:

The OzGlot

Until such and such a time when he decides he’s no longer there, you should all be able to get your daily smacking of glot right there. And hey! New feature—you can now contact this dude. There’s a form right there on that site. He loves mail.

What’s that you say—it’s too obvious I’m just writing this in the third person? I’m just trying to distance myself is all. Ha! And with that sublime pun (sublimely dumb) you’lll have to tide yourselves over for the next several months. Till then—ozzie ozzie ozzie(glot)!

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Glot

Hellacious Night

Certain times in your life your life makes you wanna take lives. That’s the nicest way I can put my feelings about today.

You know the kinda day I’m talking about. Mamma told you about them. Swear to God, somebody pushed the asshole button. When that button gets pushed — it’s usually hidden somewhere near the furnace by the old mason jars — look the f*uck out. The effect is not selective. We’re all assholes. Yes, you. You are an asshole, sir or madam. That asshole in the other room. Assholes on the phone. I didn’t have one spare second from you people today. Me. I am an asshole.

Let me ask you something: you ever turn into another lane without signaling? Of course you have, ya’ damned liar. We all do. Just cut it out for tomorrow, ok?

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Glot

Pre-Death Checklist

I’d like to announce I’m not planning on dying soon! Huzzah! I arrived at that conclusion by way of this list I made today, of the things I wanna do before I die:

  • travel to Australia
  • skydive
  • have an out-of-body experience (preferably not skydiving)
  • watch a live birth
  • pass along my genetic material to next generation (see above)
  • have my own hellacool apartment
  • wear a speedo in public
  • get a haircut from a friend
  • shave my head
  • be on television
  • have my own radio show
  • invent something useful to the human race
  • write a novel
  • compile my memoirs (different than above)

Yeah, I admit it’s not a lot. But these are the kind of ideas that come to you over a period of time. Like, a lifetime. Keep an eye on the updated, permanent verison.

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Glot

Cheating

I’m wearing different same-color socks today. The only way you could tell is that one is about four inches lower than the other. They’re both black socks (I’m not crazy), but they’re utterly mismatched in size. I feel like the fashion police should bust in with nightsticks and attractive winter scarves at any moment. Dammit man, I was out of black socks! Please spare me your harsh tsktsking judgement!

Now that I’ve caught your attention with a hook…

I figured out what I’m gonna do to make this place better. You know what I’m gonna do? I’m gonna cheat. I will, from today on, progressively insert posts that I didn’t post when I say I posted ’em, fill in all the gaps, and put in the things I wanted to write when I wanted to write them. Know that that means? Now you’ll never know. A-ha-ha, HA, ha-ha-ha.

Why now, I hear you say? Why would I fill in all this material for no other reason than my personal edification from already lost time, you ask? Well… you just answered your own question.

Categories
Glot-glot

10 Topics for Past Entries

  1. David DeAngelo is a very “cool” man
  2. My Job
  3. Crichton’s State of Fear (why people want you to be afraid to read it)
  4. The Archive — (here, keep this on your hard drive now)
  5. My Flowers and Trees Movie
  6. Up North, or the way we were
  7. CSUMB Sucks and I can prove it.
  8. Re-do Hello World
  9. “I am the coolest person I know.”
  10. Ten Topics for Future Entries
Categories
Glot

Games Fun, Fun Good

I like mind games. I bet you didn’t know that mind games are good for you. Don’t believe me? Allow me to explain.

Many are the reasons that these things, these things of which I speak, make our lives better. Have you been bored lately? I haven’t… I can’t. I just will not allow myself. I must play. I play with those around me — confusing them, prodding them, keeping ’em guessing. I play with stuff I find. I play with myself. That’s right, I said it. How can one resist a flavored toothpick, a sublimely obscure joke, a button that goes ‘click’, or — dare I say — one’s own elbow skin? How?! This (as many of you will know) is called “fun”. Not only are they entertaining, but these little games keep me occupied when the otherwise tedious stimulus-response cycle threatens to de-vamp my vim. I gots to have me my vim, you know. Gotsta.

It’s from this perspective I volunteer a seemingly obvious adage: fun is good for you. Not taking things too seriously keeps you stable, it gives you a release when you need it and makes life interesting when you don’t. Drink up, ye seekers of sanity, the cup of vim.

Unfortunately it seems not too many people realize this. Or, worse yet are those who have no energy… at all. “Ebullient vitality and energy” can be difficult without that. I’ll be the first to confess I’m a) young b) healthy c) naturally, let’s say, a “curious” individual. So I’ve got an advantage. What’s to stop you, though, from pretending that instead of “working” at your “job” you’re just maintaining deep cover? And the twist is — you must discover who it is you’re supposed to spy on (!!!). Keep tabs on people’s calls. Make up secret codes between your co-workers. Nothing, nothing, could possibly make refilling the water cooler any more intense.

I know some of you will find this outlook childish, immature, perhaps even regressive. To them I say: uhhhh huuuuh… Do you even remember how awesome it was playing games in grade school? No. Of course not. Because you are an old fart that has grown stale instead of savory with age. Come on — grade school is the only time when Marbles vs. Dinosaurs is a perfectly sensible bout. Maybe I’m like this because back in the day I didn’t get enough quality playtime. I was that kid that was with a different group each day on the playground. Nobody could stand me for too long. I remember once, for about a week in fourth grade, I incessently chanted “craaack, CRACK, crack … crack-crack … creeeaaaaaak (et cetera)” just for the hell of it. Plea for attention? Nascent ennui? Yeah, I’m gonna go with nascent ennui just cause most people won’t understand that.

What was my point? Oh yes. There is only one thing in the entire world that we can have complete control of: our own minds. You’re assignment, if you choose to accept it, is to make your own life interesting. While you’re at it try making it livable too. Then call me. We need to work out the details and write a frickin’ book.

Categories
Glot

Robot Monkey Ninja Pirate

There are worse things to be addicted to than the internet. But then again, maybe nitrous isn’t so bad.

You ever think about who you are on the internet? I do. I basically paid about $100 out of pocket for… this. All of this. This webspace, this domain. And more than that, I’ve spent hours which are — in a word, uncountable — actually putting the damned thing together. All so that you can read this and enjoy the little colored squares change. Yes I’ve spent a lot of time on the internet. I’m nice to the internet; it’s nice to me.

I’ve been thinkin’ lately, in my very American way, about all the stuff I’ve got. Specifically, the stuff I’ve got online. Stuff like:

Flickr
Consumating
Del.icio.us
Last.fm
MySpace
WordPress

And beleive it or not, now people have coined a new highfalutin term for all this: digital identity. To be distinguished, mind you, from one’s real identity. That is to say exactly what should be obvious: the virtual world still isn’t real.

Think about that for a moment. Many of us spend a lot of our lives—let’s say in my case roughly half—in front of a computer. And how many dreams have you had where you were on the internet? Or even at a computer? Not any at all, for 99.998% of you (one can never be absolutely sure…). So why bother if it can’t be integrated into a wholistic, experience-seeking, fully-lived life? Look at that list up there. Now go make your own. Shouldn’t our time on this earth be spent improving our lives, instead of (very arguably) improving the internet?

Hm.

Well, think I’ll read a book now. Like that’s any better.

Categories
Glot

Down Under Wonder

Due to the overwhelming number of inquiries as to why I’m making my way to Australia early next year, I feel I have to address the imminent influx of letters, email, and phone calls from concerned fans. Also I have nothing better to write about. And I have no fans.

Here’s why: Australia is frickin’ cool. Exhibit A: platypuses (not platypi, it’s a greek derivative… dumbass). The name translates as “flat foot” which is without a doubt fershure their least remarkable quality. I like to call them duckmoles. Not only are they venomous, egg-laying, and billed, they also get a whole ‘nother sixth sense: electrolocation. A platypus can perceive differences in electrical current between the two sides of its bill. Combined with its wickedly edematous spur, this makes the platypus the perfect go-to animal for scheming mad scientists everywhere.

I registered today for the Thorn Tree, a simple forum run by Lonely Planet for travellers like myself. Spice is nice but moreso good advice. And this, this was my first contribution:

Greetings all,

This 21 y.o. male willl be arriving in Sydney on Jan. 25th (yes that’s intentional) but will be taking the workaday route: job, apartment, the whole deal. Accomodations might be in order for the right kind of oz-farer.

That’s right. I just invited a bunch of strangers to sleep over at my place—in a foreign country I’ve never been to and don’t know that much about. Unless you count Platypi. I mean -puses.

Oh, and I should mention since I didn’t really talk about it at all—if you really want to find out why I’m going to Australia, you should try reading the other glot.

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Glot

Higher Knowledge

Am I the only one who, if somebody sits in your chair when you’re gone then leaves it all warm and almost… moist… that you feel violated? Even a teensy bit?

You have no idea how cathartic it feels to finally write that sentence. You know why? Cause I can write anything at all. I’ve been so damn busy working, dispatching requests, complaints, and repair orders, not to mention keeping a log of every damn key in this hotel, that I haven’t had a half a chance to say “here is this random bit of non-information flitting through my idle mind.” There is no idle mind.

Many yogis have said that the highest knowledge is arrived at by meditating on the meaning of nothingness. To them I say: also, my hair seems very flat today.