Zombie Poetry

The darkness rushed at humanity headlong

None so fortunate to be ignored

It came to the folks whose hearts were strong

And at those whose hearts had failed

We heard that the dead were now walking about

Or so the word spread from the east

And it came just as quick to the believing

As to those who'd believed it the least

When they came we were caught in inaction

As if lost in a nightmarish dream

We would swear even then it's a fiction

But for all the ungodly screams

Some ran where they could and found shelter

In basement and strip mall and home

They prayed that their doors wouldn't falter

They prayed it would not be their tomb

But we failed alone and in bunches too

Most were not cut out for this fight

And barracades failed as barracades do

And all our days fell into night

For light doesn't shine in the rooms they can't breach

Under mountain and blast door and sentry

We live in caves while they roam out of reach

We now pray that they won't find an entry

But now we hear of an illness that's spreading

A virus that will kill us all

For now the dead here will likely start walking

Our great fortress is likely to fall.

In the end we had no cause for hoping

Regardless of the castle annexed

For the door that will always be opened

Is the door between this life and next

How to make the money and honies as a Scientist

For the majority of you college students entering your sophomore and junior years it is time to pick a major. I am sorry to report that early college education is over. For many people the early college career involve endless keggers, one night stands, and the occasional night of study.   Good News!  It turns out that this is an alarmingly successful way to work your way through your last two or three years of college as well.

I am not writing this to help those students majoring is hangovers and venereal disease... but more to help the students who spent their high school career suffering from a cripplingly strong skill in math and science.  Hello, you.  Let's get started.

You were not invited to many keggers... most likely the closest you ever got was splitting a twelve pack of beer while pulling an all night Axis & Allies marathon. Those of you suffering from such skills have come to believe that wine, women and song do not lie down the path of periodic tables, differential equations, or field theory, but I am here to tell you that this is not always the case!

If you play your cards right science can be just as valid a path to partying and sexing as a business or communications major. Here is how you accomplish the task...

The cold realities, and the hot topics

If you entered college seeking a major in any of the classic sciences, you probably are looking to facilitate  change and make the world a better place.  No doubt some student counselor along the way gave you that idea.  But selling college is a lot like selling a Slap Chop, only substitute"$19.95 for the Slap Chops and The Graty PLUS a folding cutting board" with "$60,000 for a world changing education". The only real drawback, other than the lack of a Graty and folding cutting board, in the college education is that, by itself, it is not worth the fortune you your parents spent on it.   Your professors, and the Slap Chop guy, lied to you. You aren't going to change the world with a degree in mathematics any more than you will be able to get rid of your food processor after you buy the slap chop.

And neither one will get you as many women as you might think. People just don't care about your education without a little coaxing. Take a few tips from the slap chop guy on marketing, just not on how to make salsa.

Think opf it this way: if a tree falls in the forest, and nobody cares, does a new tree ever grow in it's place? Even though the answer is "yes", that doesn't mean that you can't tell people that trees may never grow there again without science. At that point you have made yourself important.

But, remember, planting a tree doesn't pay well, and the woods aren't filled with wood nymphs. So all the delusions of saving trees doesn't get you a single thing you want until you make other people get involved. To get others involved, you have to make them care... and if that proves difficult, try possibly throwing in a folding cutting board and a Grady to the deal!

This brings me to lesson #1: Get the mouth breathers involved!

You will quickly realize in college that going on field trips with the rest of the student in your particular chosen scientific discipline is horrifying. Doing group projects with a bunch of people as socially inept as you will always be that way. Now, if the project is deemed to be of any merit to the world in general, you can infuse your group with cheerleaders and football players seeking extra credit from the college (I call it "the Grady", get it?!).... so sell sell sell!

So how do you sell a project, you may ask, if the project at hand is rather dull and tedious? Well, that is the meat and potatoes of science, my lads and lasses!

Lesson #2: Make people believe they are going to die.

Contrary to popular opinion, everyone finds science interesting. The only caveat to that is that most people find science interesting only when they think their lives depend on it.

Who would care about fossil fuel consumption rates without global warming, OPEC terrorists, or the potential money they can take from billionaire oil tycoon world enders? The answer is nobody. Well, maybe you and your hemp smoking classmates.... but the average citizen would care about as much about oil related conservation as they do about the abolition of THaC0 in the Dungeons & Dragons 3rd addition rulebook, which is somewhat less than the amount of time they dedicate to caring about the long term effects of mowing their lawn on the resident endangered centipede.

But if you can make them believe that that centipede is responsible for their ongoing good health and prosperity they will be scouring their lawn with tweezers trying to save that centipede... and themselves in the process.

More to the point, if you make the world believe that a world minus this centipede is a world nobody would want to live in, you will be all but guaranteed a grant from the federal governments of your choice, your choice of ready and willing coeds and concerned citizens willing to work for free (more grant money for you!), and the chance of considerable face time on The Discovery Channel. You will notice that every item listed above has a direct correlation to increased amounts of sex.

Now, before you run off and major in entomology, you have to consider a few things:

1) If you major in a discipline that is already saturated, you will find that your future in the field will be a lot like your life in highschool... just replace the athletes with early adopting scientists, and getting locked in your locker with getting stuck in a remote monitoring station in Antarctica by yourself... other than that, the humiliation and your chances for love are essentially the same. Don't buy into the "earning your stripes" mentality. If it already takes up more than 5% of The Learning Channels air time, it's too late.

2) Pick a field that you can sell to the masses. If you, for instance, study the effects of long term hunting by indigenous Eskimos on the northern silvered tit mouse you will find that money and women will be hard to come by. Everyone cares about the Eskimos, and those mice really aren't as sexy as they sound. And in either case, nobody's life really depends on that mouse. This brings me to my last point...

Lesson #3: Blaze a trail!

The real money and fame, as I have already stated, is not in following the pack, but in finding new ways the average person may die. So instead of piling on that particular sentiment, I will give you a few ideas of how to turn your specialization of choice into a money making powerhouse, and a sure fire path to popularity:

Entomology - I have already covered this... but my example had one major flaw: complexity. You actually have to find a centipede before you can ever come up with an excuse to save it. So, instead, see if you can get a modest grant to study the effects of some other well established doom harbinger but then twist it in such a way that your "contribution" becomes the real story. For example... get a grant to travel to the Amazon to study the effects of global warming on the local insect populations. Then, after several months of boozing and sexing the local french scientists, publish a paper that shows that Global warming isn't just reducing the number of insects... but you couldn't find any insects at all. This may be a short ride for you... so save the money that comes rolling in as your fame will be short lived.

Astronomy - This field is almost as filled to capacity as the environmental disciplines. To make a name for yourself you will need to be rather creative. The one saving grace here is that the field is almost totally constructed of hypothesis and conjecture. Once you realize that, for the most part, the understanding of the mechanics of the solar system is already hundreds of years old, the rest is gravy. I would suggest something that the average person can both see, and not see.... so every day will be a reminder, even if the actual story is completely made up. In this case, I would pic a prominent object such as the sun or the moon, then think up a way that it is either endangered, or is killing us. An article that a black hole is eating the moon from the dark side, and the potential catastrophic effects on the Earths tides would be a big seller.

Ecology - This is the hardest field to break out in, but it can still be done if you can "build a better mouse trap". There is always a laundry list of modern conveniences that have yet to be shown to be harmful to the environment... try and find one that is both ubiquitous, pleasing (but not too pleasing), and a money maker. So, attack anything but the porn industry. I am not saying you need to go out and link aspirin to the death of baby seals... after all, that is the eco equivalent of the Riemann Hypothesis, or the Hadamard Matrix... just with guaranteed coitus. I would give you a good example, but if I had one I would be sunning myself on my super yacht with Jennifer Aniston and not giving a shit about you readers.

Mathematics - Don't bother. You might as well resign yourself to solving the Riemann Hypothesis and trying to make it with math chicks. Even if you found a way that math kills, the best defense would be to not do it... and most people are already experts at that form of self defense.

Biology - This is a dangerous field to enter because, on average, the nerd chicks in this field are already the hottest. You could easily get sufficient tail in biology and never once be featured on National Geographic Channel, thereby gaining all of the riches you desire. So now is not the time to settle for "good enough"... biology girls are attractive compared to applied geophysics babes, but media and communications babes they are not. Pour into your studies... or at least pretend to... then for your doctoral thesis publish your study about the troublingly fast evolution of great white sharks, and that they will be able to walk on land by the year 2040. If you can hook up with a similarly minded astronomer that is willing to link this evolution to sun spots, I see that as a win-win.

That brings me to my closing point: Regardless of the field you choose, and the disaster you choose to champion, I implore you to make every effort to set the catastrophe as far into the future as is possible while still affecting people today. You may find it necessary to shoot too far in the future at first, and then continually revise your prediction until people give a shit. This will assure you the greatest time in the spotlight while having the least chance of your theories being sufficiently debunked. And be sure that, should anyone try to rain on your theories, you link them in some way to Big Oil.

If you follow these basic steps you will find that science is not the dead-end street that you once thought. The world is your oyster. Especially if that oyster may kill everyone.

Inspector Ansen on the Case

She glided into my office with a grace that betrayed her training as a dancer. If it hadn't been her walk, her rhythm would have given it away.

"Are you Mr. Ansen?" she asked in a breathy desperation that made my heart ache.

"Yes ma'am, I am" I said in a way that would let her know that I was hiding my thoughts.

"Good, I am in need of your services" she replied, "it's an urgent matter... and... a delicate one" she continued sheepishly.

"Anything I can do for a lady like you" I said, eying her up and down, "should be considered done."

"Your very kind" she went on, "you see, I've lost my purse."

"I see.. go on"

"I don't much care about the purse, but there is a letter in the purse that I desperately need to get back."

"Why me? It would seem that any cop walking that beat would be the one to talk to." I replied. I had to play this cool. "Besides, what could a dame like you have to worry about with a silly letter?"

"Oh, Mr. Ansen... " she whispered, barely holding back the tears "It was a letter.. it was meant for my best friend-"

"Best Friend... forever?" I interrupted

".. yes, best friend forever... it was a letter to discuss a trip we were planning for the coming weekend."

"This plan, it was important?"

"Yes, we were going to go to the mall, hang out, ya know... feel free... have maybe an ice cream." Her voice gave wings to her dreams as if Hot Topic were born of the mind of Angels.

"Cold Stone?"

"No, TCBY"

"Big mistake"

"Says you.." she replied with a shrug.

"It's not even ice cream... Anyway," I said, trying to change the subject back to the letter "A trip the the mall? Sure it's freeing... sometimes a girl needs to be away from the control of home life.. spend some allowance, get pictures of her and her BFF to stick in her mirror at home. Maybe there's a nice blouse at Justice, or an ironic tee shirt... maybe you sit with a soda and make fun of all the silly boys... sure, I understand... but something's telling me it's not the mall trip that has you upset... am I right?"

".... yes."

"Ma'am, you need to be straight with me if you want this fixed. What was in the letter?"

"I... it was supposed to be nothing, a joke... but there was a picture in the letter."

"A picture of who, ma'am?"

"Polaski..."

"Polaski the English teacher?"

"Yes, Polaski." She confirmed. "But it wasn't a kind picture... I insinuated that .. that he ... smelled."

"Stink lines?"

"YES!" she broke down. "Oh Please Mr. Ansen! I need a good grade in that class or.. or..."

It started to dawn on me. This was more than just a mall trip and some stink lines. She wasn't the bookworm type. If word got around that Mr. Polaski was smelly, and that it was her that outed him... well she needed her grades up or it may be no mall trips forever. That was no way to live.

"Listen, Jane.... can I call you Jane?" I asked warmly

"Umm.. sure" she said with a slight confusion ".. but I didn't tell you my name."

"Ah good, listen Jane, I can find this note for you. Is it in the main pocket, or maybe in the one of the side pockets?"

"A side pocket."

"The one with the zipper pull with a charm?"

"Yeah.. tha.. wait..."

"Ah, here's the note. I'm glad I could he-" She slapped me before I could even think of smooching

"YOU! You took my purse? WHY?!"

"Look Jane"

"YOU Can't call me that anymore"

"OK, Angela"

"That isn't even my name!" she said Hotly... it was time I come clean

"Listen lady... I, I have these feelings, I see you and I want to be around you. You are sweetness and light and so different from everything I feel inside me. Sure you have cooties, but even that doesn't tip the scales. I... I'm confused, and that makes me angry.... I took your purse so that I.. I... could understand girls..."

"Oh," she said "I... I see. Did it help?"

"No" my voice began to break "I've been all through that thing and I am just more confused..."

"You are?"

"Yeah... like.. how... why do you have those unicorn stickers? They aren't even cool..."

"What?" She said with an edge of anger

"And that entry in your diary about Billy Watts... why would you want to hold his goofball ha"

"THAT'S IT! You read my DIARY TOO!? I am sooo outa here!"

And like that she was gone. For reasons I couldn't quite put my finger on I felt we would be seeing each other again. Maybe at recess... maybe in the lunch line when she least expects it. Oh, I will get her attention.. maybe with a cricket, or by doing something gross... but she will like me. One way or another.

Dames.. who can figure them.

Unicorns.

A Heroic Entry

Rage - Internet - Rage upon Jryan and His Blog
Bring forth the Rosy Fingered Dawn
That light may shine upon the Great Hero
Clad in Rather Large Shirts and Pants
For His Bulk doth require it so
His pants a rumpled khaki green
For folding was never really his thing
His shirt a dull blue because he didn't seperate colors
It bore the stains of food eaten hastily in his car
His shoes black and of the slip-on sneakers variety
His hair and beard wild and unkempt

Rage - Internet - Rage for much Time has passed
Look down upon Portly Jryan
Who seems to have a shield for some reason
On the Shield stands two Citadels: Home and Work
In silver did they Shine in the sun
And upon each citadel did furry rage
To the Home did the Unceasing duties charge forth
Upon the Home they raged with spear and horse
But they didn't really have spears and horses
But that sounded cooler than doing dishes
In reality is was mostly laziness that drove them


Rage - Internet - see how the shield gleams!
Upon the second Citadel charged the workday
Computers, absent the light of life, called
Unto Jryan for repair and maintenance
And on these servers strode the boss and coworkers
On these servers did they depended
It did seem to be quite a drag on his time
The Work Citadel was cast in intricate gold
Not silver like I said before
The Boss was cast in.. umm... bronze, let's say
Anyway, the shield was pretty heavy


It was in this pretty shabby attire
That Jryan did see fit to attempt a new blog entry
His Blog entry would be something else
Pretty much he didn't know what to do
So he decided to Write in Homeric verse
Which seemed like a good idea at the time
Setting the shield down he tore in
He brought his finger down upon the keyboard
With great force he typed on the keys
People complained about how loud he typed!
And he was pretty sure the blog would rhyme in Greek

... also the meter wouldn't be all screwy either

A month in Review

Hello Dear readers. I am sure that upon my sudden absence many of you were thinking "Hey, what's for dinner?". Well, I am here to tell you that it has been a very busy month… very busy indeed. I have decided to bring you up to speed on what has been happening in the interim... that way if you ever see me it will be as if you and I were very close!

So without further adieu, here is a log of what I did in the last month. This log will be served to you conveniently via a web host. A "blog", if you will...

- August 28th - Year of Our Lord Twenty aught Eight

Jenkins is dead, taken in the night by the thing. Wimootuk, our faithful guide... dead as well. In his last moments I glimpsed the halting, staccato and horrifying images of brave Wimootuk plunging his ritual dagger again and again into the beasts scarlet, sanguineous chest.

In my panic I had dared to dream that the blood was that of the beast and that Wimootuk had, through sheer savage will, saved us from the horror. But my dream was short lived as I saw what was at the creatures feet. Alsas it was poor Jenkins, torn asunder just as the rest, his freezing eyes staring into me, darkly accusing me for beginning this damn fool expedition.

It wasn't long before the beast had separated poor Wimootuk's head from his fur adorned shoulders, and with a viscously satisfied glance at me it leaped back into the all concealing blizzard, leaving me to stare into Jenkins eyes as the blizzard again and mercifully blanketed our bloody folly with a fresh white canvas onto which I shall soon contribute a final crimson coat..

- August 29th - Year of Our Lord Twenty Aught Eighth

The winds are rising with renewed vigor. I fear that even absent the beast I now hear pacing outside that the wind will be enough to tear my sanctuary asunder and toss me into the blinding, blistering snow. If I had only listened to the Moohaskut Tribesman and turned back, I might have my life... but the dream of reward too great, the wanderlust too strong to be restrained.

I am the architect of my own demise.. so perfectly built that it is now my greatest desire.

The beast will strike within a few hours. It is good... it is merciful. My future subsistence, had I survived, would consist of picking at the long dead rats gathered by Wimootuk these many days ago... or resorting to the unthinkable, an ungodly customer and consumer of meats carved by a brutal butcher.

I still have a handful of ammunition for the Winchester. May my aim be more true than Sebastian, the insufferable prick.

August 30th - Year of Our Lord Twenty Aught Eight

LOL!1 I POWNZ teh beats & I r resqd!11

August 31st - Year of Our Lord Twenty Aught Eight

Life aboard ship is rather monotonous. I'm totally bored. I wish Jenkins was alive to play cards with. We used to have sooo much fun making fun of Wimootuk's backwardness. I wish he was alive too so I could laugh again.

September 1st, 2008

Well, I will be taking a break dear diary, as I have not much more to add.
Oh, and I found a cool new easy way to write the date!

September 14th, 2008

Will wonders never cease? This ship of men has a woman! She is a cagey fast talking news woman from New York. Oh how I love her biting wit. I think that tonight I shall regale her with all the best jokes I made up about the dead Wimootuk!

September 14th, 2008 PM

Oh woe, I never had a chance to speak at dinner. That stupid actor man was too busy wooing Ms. Mastersonen for me to get a word in wedge-wise.

Well who needs them!! I will make my own way! After all, I have you, dear friend and diary, to speak to!

Like one time, me and Jenkins were outside the tent and I said "Hey Wimootuk! Is that your sacrificial knife, or is there a walrus about?". Me and Jenkins laughed and laughed. I don't think Wimootuk got the joke. Anyway, I know you do, dear diary.

September 26th, 2008

Gently rolling sea, black and deep
I stare into your life giving emptiness
I yearn for my eternal sleep
I cut myself to feel alive.

I hate girls.

September 31th, 2008

I am feeling a lot better now. I think the news that we are a few mere weeks out of port has renewed my vigor! My mental clouds have lifted. I am a new man! I will no longer run from my internal demons, I will face up to this life I have been given, and those choices I have made to form it for good and evil. I shall return to the life I had before my fool’s errand, before the dark times, the blood times. I shall live in full, wiser for my memories of the catastrophe.

I can not wait to return to my town, meet with my old friends and regale dear Jenkins with my harrowing tales of near death and that poor backward savage from which I drew so much enjoyment.

I'm sure Jenkins will... I... I mean Jenkins..

Shit, wait...

October 2nd, 2008

My realizations of yesterday will not bring me down. After all, I am a few weeks from port, Ms. Mastersonen and the Actor are out of the picture... what with that stop at that mysterous island and a healthy dose of the Captain Barbers hubris, and that extended siege of the ship by cannibalistic Hunti tribesmen. I guess they were rather annoyed with us taking the prehistoric beast into our ships hold....

Anyway, we left Ms. Mastersonen and the actor in all the din of excitement. I'd tell you all about it, but it's really not that interesting.

October 14th, 2008

Seriously, who opened the goddam hold? It is by sheer miracle that I survived and piloted the boat to shore. It's just not a terribly interesting miracle.

Anyway, I'm home!! Woot! I hope Tivo was recording "Fringe"!

October 15th, 2008 AM

Alas, it would appear I hath lost power, and I have broken my surley bonds with pop culture. There will be no "Fringe" marathon.

Some say I am lucky to be alive... but now I am not so sure.

Post Script: You are having meat loaf for dinner.

Disutopia

Have you ever wanted to really lay into some person that you felt was being a dongweasle but didn't because you were afraid of the repercussions? Well, I have as well, and I am sick of it. Why can't I call someone a cob-nibbler if they are, in fact, a cob-nibbler?

It seems to me that once you start withholding how you feel about all the plumb bobs in the world the plumb bobs have no balance in their life to drift them toward awesome and away from plumb bobbery. So I say this needs to stop. We need to call it like we see it.

Just yesterday I was driving to work and was cut off by some amazingly huge duke-magnet who decided that my lane needed to be driving at his speed. He even went so far as to flip me the bird in the process. I am not one to get overly dramatic about such things, so I pulled into the next lane and drove past him while viciously ignoring him. But it felt a bit empty.

He probably got to work and never realized what a huge mud flap he was. And since he failed to learn that, he will probably be a gigantic cabage factory tomorrow, and so on. Do you see where the problems arise?

So, from this day forward I sincerely pledge to make sure that not a day will go by when I don't point out to every mall humper, ham dancer, cheese raker and majority whip exactly what I think of them.

I think the world will be better for it.

Dealing with Depression

It occurred to me that a good deal of people out there may be struggling with depression as I am. So I have decided to lay out some facts so that we, as a group, can begin to see our way through these hard times and find a better place for ourselves.

1) You are not alone: If you are like me you are in a place in your life where the opinions of others, and your need for acceptance, have left you feeling alone in a crowd of people. But I am here to tell you that that is all an illusion.

What you are experiencing is a need to be recognized, and in the process you may just be alienating others who are dealing with their own need of recognition. You may lead to you feeling the need to command others, or possibly to feeling that your suggestions are so amazing that everyone should listen to you first. But share the time with others.

The solution for you is to be far more magnanimous than they are. They may never recognize how magnanimous you are being... but you will know... and by knowing you will be better than them, and smarter than them.

Fo instance: there may be any number of recipes for macaroni and cheese, and yours does not have to rule them all right away. As a matter of fact, if you choose to enter your macaroni and cheese into a competition you will not win strictly on the grounds that it's you. Also, it is actually frowned on if you choose to take the crown by force.

These are things that you can learn from other peoples experiences. Especially mine.

2) Lay off the Self Destruction: It is a rather popular fallacy amongst the depressed that you can fix what is wrong by avoiding it all together. Most of us will spend hours staring at the ceiling at night haunted by the images of our broken dreams.... and in those cases, it seems only natural to turn your brain off with some mind altering substances that we convince ourselves is medicinal. They are hurting you and you are on a one way trip to substance abuse.

I have found that if you are trying to avoid substance abuse you will find no better help than that of a doctor. Doctors are skilled in writing prescriptions to take the blues away, and often you can speak to numerous doctors online and from other countries and get a healthy regimen of medications that will easily replace almost all of your street-scored remedies.

3) Who's Special? You're Special: But don't feel alone in your specialocity. I'm sure you, like me, are/am feeling a bit left out because your supposed friends are not as into anthropomorphic dogs as you are. But you may be amazed to find that being into anthropomorphic cats is not really all that different. So reach out to your feline loving friends... bridge the gap.

I found anthropomorphic racoons to be a suitable compromise. They also have beautiful hands.

4) Whoa this litle red pill has a kick. I think i got it from paraguay or somthijng. THe doctoor didn't speak English too well buut serious, it's good. the pill. It's a good pill this red one.

5) I hate racconns. my lif is a lie.