Parties and Nightlife

I'm dancing around, feeling really good, lip synching along when I stop short. I'm feeling pumped, the adrenaline is running through my veins and for a moment, I tricked myself into believing I was Karen O. I feel really, really good. But what is this peculiar feeling? I can't quite put my fingers on it. Shifting my weight, bobbing back and forth, I am trying to pinpoint the irregularity of my condition. There is a warmth and tingling sensation that I'm familiar with. As brilliant as I think this is, I don't know why it occurs to me, but I find myself looking down.

Now this feeling, you can't see it. Well, maybe if you were naked. But I assume that when most women get this feeling, while naked, it is usually when the lights are out. Women are so silly. "Um, could you maybe turn off all the lights... in the city?" I look down, as if my eyes would see this fantastic feeling and OH, my eyes rest on my crotch. Yes, I did not even touch myself, I swear. I totally can. I am alone, the music made for rowdy ben romping, but I didn't. No. It dawns on me that this warmth and tingling is emanating from my nether regions. It's like there's a party going on in my pants that I wasn't invited to! Yes, how awesome is that? Wouldn't it be great if I could walk around in a constant state of arousal. Actually, I kind of do, most of the time when my mind is clear and happy. I could purchase a really nice, cashmere pencil skirt accompanied with an orgasmic whammy. I could even have a little episode right there at the counter while paying for my skirt. The cashier warily inquires if I am OK. OK? I'm more than exhilarated! "This is 100% cashmere, right?"... Thank you, ma'am, I'm feeling like I hit the jackpot, and I don't even have to walk around with a pesky erection. I imagine those can get in the way of most activities...

You know what this feeling kind of reminded me of? KY Warming Gel. That stuff kind of stings. Does anyone get that reaction? I hate KY lubricants. Try Astroglide, Aqua, Liquid Silk, or even better, Sliquid H2O which is formulated to last longer than most Hollywood marriages. Let us support the impotent sex industry with our hard-earned dollars, personally tested for your pleasure. Speaking of pleasure, ladies and gents, there's a party that I need to crash so I wish you all a good day and a very good night.

My Darkness Day in the Beer Adventures

People waiting in line on Darkness Day when it was 28 degrees out. Fun!

One thing I learned since starting craft beers is that everyone has different tastes when it comes to beer.  When it comes to beer, one might say that “taste is on the tongue of the taster” as much as “beauty is in the eye of the beholder”. Am I a beer expert? No, absolutely not. Am I a beginner? You could consider me with that label. Although, I’d like to think I “passed” that beginner stage. When I say “beginner”, I don’t mean the person who has never tried a beer before in his/her lifetime, but rather the person who has had the common beers like Bud, Coors, Corona, etc… and seemingly stucks in an orbit around the giant stacks of Landshark Lager or Bud Light Lime.

Back then, I often reached out for help by asking a stock guy about buying a different beer, or just something new to try. Most of the time, the stock guy recommended a beer like ‘Imperial Suckerpunch’, ’2,000 Minute IPA’, or ‘HopOutOfyourfuckinmind Ale’.  Chances were, I would take one sip of this extreme beer recommended by the beer expert and dump it down the sink. Venturing out my dilemma, a friend introduced me with a Belgian style ale from Blue Moon. Say what you will about it being made by Coors, but it was a good gateway beer for beginners like me. This unfiltered, cloudy “settlement-filled on the bottom of the glass” wheat beer still remains my favorite, especially on a hot summer’s day. 

Then I went on several brewery tours for beer tasting in Minnesota and Wisconsin, such as Schell’s and Leinenkugel, my taste has stumbled to a darker level, like Young’s Double Chocolate Stout. This beer is Dark, like “a flashlight behind my glass still did not yield this beer’s true color” dark, or like “a black hole where light can’t even escape” dark. When pouring just right, the foamy head leaves a frothy layer with a nice brownish color. Creamy, nutty, sweet, with the slightly bitter aftertaste yet smooth finish, the unique chocolate aroma gives the best malty flavor a stout can ever offer, in my opinion anyway. So there you go, I’m no expert, and I don’t know much about beers, but I KNOW my favorites.

This year, to bring my beer spirit to the next level, I attended Surly’s Darkness Day by camping out for 16+ hours prior to the event to make sure that I’d come home with 6 bottles of Darkness 2012 in my hands. Why? Because they had this thing that’s called “6-bottle limitation” per person with 21 years of age, which was a load of crap if you’d ask me.

More information can be found on Surly’s Blog  or Surly’s Detail. 

But, to save you some time and energy from clicking away, long story short: We showed up with 5 more people to get in line around 5pm on the Eve of Darkness Day. People were trying to find a spot for their tents. At this point, it was 35 degrees with 10mph wind-chill demon. No big deal, we’re from the Midwest, bundling-up and drinking booze to stay warm are what we’re good at, beside making fun of Wisconsin. Most tents were built at this point. We ordered 4 shitty Broadway pizzas that cost us $90 total. Soggy, semi-cold pizzas never tasted so good, yet so disgusting. Then we walked around with beer in hand and stared at people’s “ten-times-better” food on their pathetic little grill..” Keep in mind, it was 29* now and everybody was having a great time. I was bundled up in my 20* Northface sleeping bag, as warm as ever while sipping on random samples that were given by random beer enthusiasts. Witnessing hundreds of people and tents being out here on the street where all hell freezes over to anticipate for the release of Darkness, one of the top 25 best craft beer in the world, I realized these people were the extremists. It was  the Las Vegas strip of beer-porn for them. Drinking, tasting, trading, judging… “What happens at Darkness Days stays at Darkness Days”. While it is $18 per bottle here straight from the brewery, Darkness costs twice of its value when it’s a year (or more) older. People here were very serious of what they have and what they wanted to share. By “sharing”, they wanted you to understand and acknowledge that it was the most special beer you’d ever had in your life. Maybe I should become one of those hoarding snobs who go around collecting rare “one-of-a-kind” craft beers, then store them in their fancy closet and hope to sell them to some stupid beer collectors with higher prices several years later. After all, why bother sharing and celebrating with your love ones when you can make $200 per bottle in profit. Right?

Surly’s Imperial Stout impressed me with its appearance by the deep, dark and viciously brown with quickly-disappearing head that left an excellent lacing. A dark roasted, chocolatety, malty aroma mixed with alcohol soaked nuts, raisins, and figs really brought out the uniqueness of the beer. Great amount of chocolate flavor in the foretaste with subdued hints of caramel, and roasted coffee for the aftertaste. A touch of dry fruit that lead to a sweeter flavor and a decent amount of hop bitterness lingered in the end. Darkness had a smooth and creamy finish (that’s what she said), yet a nicely balanced of carbonation for the incredible mouth feel.

Later on, I got to try the admirable 2010 and 2011 Abyss. Another dark Imperial Stout that I immediately fell in love on the first taste. Here’s my quick description for this baby: dark tan head that dissipated very slowly to compliment its sweet vanilla, coffee aroma. Roasted malt, dark chocolate flavor with a hint of molasses gave me the incredibly smooth, creamy mouth feel. A nice, sweet coffee after taste for a finish, it was absolutely fucking phenomenal. For an 11% ABV beer, the alcohol is very well hidden. I loved every drop of it. That’s all I have to say about the Abyss.

 

Looks like my 2012 Surly Darkness will have to wait for another 2 years before they get to be served in my mugs. Until then, many more beer adventures will be had, and they will be documented appropriately while I enjoy every moment of it. 

A Mask Worthy of Me.

I have a secret to reveal to you.

I often give people the benefit of the doubt. Initially. My first impulse is to extend my hand in friendship. The kind of friendship that I'd open my heart and soul to invite you into my life. Polite, I analyze others first and act accordingly after many possible interactions. Everything is subject to scrutiny. 

I do not court conflicts and persons of ill will. I loathe those whom carouse in others' misery. I value and expect honesty. Hearts and sentiments are much easier to sway than minds and convictions. Even the sweetest and most earnest of hearts harbor alternative motives. Enticing babes with sweetness and smiles is still a crime against authenticity.

Critical, sarcastic, cynical, pessimistic? No, I am merely a cynical critic searching for those that champion truth and legitimacy. We all have our masks but some are just more ostentatious than others. You think you don't hide any false pretense from the world with your plain, unpainted face. Well, actions suggest otherwise and contradict what you believe your "non-existing mask" represents and the consequences are obvious to the actors on the stage, all the way to the balcony audience. The poor dears do not even realize their breach of trust and trespass of integrity, they desperately want and act perilously without considering the repercussions. And I could have warned you all from the beginning. But I reserve my opinion until the final, fatal, self-destructive blow. I wear my mask, but I have not made a joke of myself.

May your masks be honest caricatures of your soul. I promise I will not withhold my judgements.

With Vigilance, Love.

Some mornings, I awakened to his smile, brighter than the sun, more welcome than ever as the sun eludes into increasingly somber morning. If it wasn’t for him, or the crimson conflagration that wages its war upon the summer fleeting, I might soon forget the colors that are fading into a sepia memory. Like the astounding jungle fire falling from the sky, cracking underneath, the flame emphatically subdued, there was nothing like his warmth. When he was gone, it escaped me like a dream.

More than sensation beguiling the nerves to spark along the epidermis, more than a measurement on a thermometer, a fire you can’t extinguish with water.

I’ll find myself shivering under a downy cloud. The dull light of autumn morning isn’t convincing enough for me to open my eyes and greet the day. But he could shift the clouds; remove the unconscious fog with an effusive smile. I’d rise with the sun, my fired eyes would flare and sparkle playfully. 

This is what it means to be blinded by love. A spectacular sight; some kind of wonderful. It’s when you realize that your heart rules all the domains of the body. To see the face of your beloved, to know your eyes are tethered to your beating, ebullient heart. It is to feel the weight in your heart that prevents the butterflies in your stomach from shooting out into the stratosphere.  

Sometimes I fear of making choices with closed eyes, then waking up and all would disappear. If I allowed something, someone else to invade my thoughts, his absence would be eclipsed by trifling minutiae. It’d be as if he never shared the width of his body, never rested his head in the crook between my head and shoulders after making love beneath our autumn leaves. Without a constant vigilance, what would he be but a lingering dream? A phantom I conjured to be a companion in the lonely corridors of my shifting thoughts. For when the warmth escaped what was once living, what mementos could we keep but the memories?

Recharging the batteries on the fast track.

All day, and often into the night I'm staring at my laptop or discussing brilliant (or not-so-brilliant) ideas. When I get home, my brain spins millions of ideas that frantically leap and spawn until I silently spill them into the recesses of forgetfulness with a wistful sigh. 

I got to thinking about the good old days, back when we were all going to be astronauts, firemen and doctors. Whatever happened to those impossible dreams and self-fulfilling stubbornness that would ensure their survival?  Does everyone grow up so quickly, or did I just take my time about it?  Where are the others that ignore the limitations and forge their own path to success?

I'm browsing the internet in a last-ditch attempt to get some sleep.  My mind is spinning with clutter. I feel out of touch with my generation. I've yet to meet "that person" in my generation with their life together, a steady job and a ticket to anywhere, and I've met hundreds of people since I moved out at the age of 19. We're forced to get smart in competing to be somewhere in life, because "better" doesn't cut it anymore.

It seemed to be hard to find someone to sip champagne and bubble concepts with, someone that hogs the couch and astounds me with their always brilliant, sometimes idiotic schemes and dreams, someone that's walking the same path between responsibility and exploration with a candid view on life, the universe and everything.

I long for a really good conversation. Not the typical, "hey, how are you" pleasantries but a witty banter that drifts through a dozen cups of coffee, and rides the waves of philosophy, theology, why blue is the best color ever and the 101 uses for soap. I'd love to sit across from a stranger and listen to the natural brilliance and beauty of an exciting, exotic life. I would be ecstatic to be dazzled, confounded and intrigued, and then I'd talk for a while, too.

Yet for all the stubborn resolve, the dreams and optimism, there are some things that just can't be forcibly found. Good conversation and breathing room are two of them. It takes the right setting, the right person, and the right moment to rock the world around you.

And so in the meantime I lay unclothed. I stare at the ceiling, neither tossing nor turning but struggling against the push of unfulfilled desires. The night drones on and my sleepless eyes blink once, twice, thrice.

Why "1+1=2"?

We come across many arguments that attempt to prove or disprove the statement 1+1=2. We can put away many of such attempts under the category called "Crackpot proofs".

Before going forward with any proof, we must ask what it means to say, "1+1=2".

The meanings of natural numbers are normally defined under what we call Peano arithmetic (PA). PA defines natural numbers in terms of five fundamental axioms:


1. 0 is a natural number.
2. Every natural number, n, has a successor s(n).
3. No natural number has 0 as its successor.
4. Every natural number has a unique successor.
5. The axiom of induction.

The statement, 1+1=2, is a direct interpretation of axiom number two. Therefore, it is not decidable (neither can be proved nor disproved) under PA. One can extend PA to argue about the validity of 1+1=2.

"Gone" is only another way to be elsewhere

I couldn’t speak because I feared my voice would betray me.

My thoughts were stalled because I became lost and couldn’t find myself.

My fingers were stilled and tears were faded.

I closed my eyes because I couldn’t face the glaring truth.

My breathing was slow but the air had become thin.

Enveloped in a shroud, I became my own ghost.

Self awakening

For awhile, reality was a beautiful dream.
After waking up, I still tried to live in the dream.
And when I realized it was just a dream,
Reality became one sour cruel bitch.

Definition

Confusion, a swirling mist of eternity, spiraling ever downward
Glued inside the chaos, I sit, contemplating, forcefully inclined
Seeking truth, thinking and yearning for what can be learned
for what can be taught
for what can be taken
Clarity is a joke, a laughter of concepts wearing a veil
I try to get to the bottom, swimming deep, minding my own business
But I am imposed upon by a not-so-self-evident spark
I control it
for I define it.

Poop and Education

Have you ever been to a public restroom where the toilet was left a disaster?

Can you imagine toilets that NEVER needed plunging? Or that NEVER needed a second flush? Did you know that's how they were invented to begin with, but due to the government creating laws just to hear the clicking sound of their pens, toilets can only legally use 1.6 gallons to flush? Originally they used 3.5 to 5 gallons. Preserving water? Clearly, no one is saving water when they must flush several times per visit to the porcelain throne. As a consequence of this law, toilets and bathrooms across America are far more disgusting and unhealthy than they need to be.

This is a perfect example of how the government creates laws supposedly to make something more efficient, but actually accomplishes the exact opposite. In fact, (this is an open challenge to any of my friends/stalkers to educate me) I cannot think of anything the government has involved themselves in and ultimately improved.

Can you imagine how great it would feel knowing that education in this country is getting better? That compared to the rest of the industrialized world the United States were gaining ground, rather than losing it?

Back in 2005, among adults age 25 to 34, the U.S. was ninth among industrialized nations in the share of its population that has at least a high school degree. In the same age group, the United States ranked seventh, with Belgium, in the share of people who hold a college degree. By both measures, the United States was first in the world as recently as 26 years ago. The Department of Education was formed in 1979. Our world-class education system managed to stay on top for only 4 or 5 more years and it's been in a free-fall ever since. Coincidence? How much longer are we going to lie to ourselves before we succumb to the truth?

People who speak against government interfering in our lives, in these circumstances, would ironically be labeled anti-environment, or anti-education. They'd be ridiculed mercilessly, if they couldn't be ignored. Absurdly enough, politicians campaign get elected on the premise that they will solve the problem by perpetuating it. Is that not the definition of crazy? When there's a direct unrelenting correlation between the scope of government interference, and the plummeting efficiency of whatever it is they've gotten their hands into, wouldn't the reasonable (ahem, sorry, don't want to offend anyone, let's say logical... no wait... umm, intelligent? Fuck it, BEST) thing to do is to abolish the cancer that is that particular government program?

The way we create and "solve" problems in this country makes about as much sense to me as a doctor prescribing cigarettes to a person dying of cancer. "Smoke two packs a day to make cancer go away."

Trying to educate my cat how to poop in a toilette was a complete failure.