If you haven't been paying attention to my Lastfm, You may have noticed that one of my most listened to artists is, well, myself.
I've been dabbling in remixing, and now, I present to you, my (and Andrew Godlewicz's) Magnum Opus, the best thing ever composed, the Come as You Are Surf Rock Remix.
Nirvana- Come as You Are (SUPER AWESOME SURFIN' REMIX)
http://www.mediafire.com/?rgd2nmziyjk
and just for comparison,
Nirvana- Come as You Are
http://www.mediafire.com/?yny4tmjyn3m
Monday, April 26, 2010
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Earth Beta
What if earth were still in development?
Back in the day, some inventor decided it'd be nice to have a place to escape to where they could indulge in some tangible things instead of floating around being a shade all the time. So he created the universe. Whatever, NBD.
The project quickly becomes pretty large, with said inventor needing to employ loads of other shades. Not knowing how to compensate them for their time, he decided that he'd reward them by being the beta testers of his creation.
Two shades, one for the mind and one for the body, would inhabit each individual. Depending on their commitment, they could select any animal they chose. The most dedicated would be humans. The only task they had was to acquire knowledge of earth and the universe to pass down to the next shades, and if they didn't want to do that, they could be doctors or lawyers or frycooks or whatever.
Eventually, the inventor will finish his project and earth will be a paradise. Until then, hold tight.
----
When I was thinking about this, I went super in-depth and thought about why shades chose to be men or women, why you need two shades, what the limit on lives are, and why we don't remember being a shade. I will not go into that because I sound like a whacko right now.
-Ryan
Back in the day, some inventor decided it'd be nice to have a place to escape to where they could indulge in some tangible things instead of floating around being a shade all the time. So he created the universe. Whatever, NBD.
The project quickly becomes pretty large, with said inventor needing to employ loads of other shades. Not knowing how to compensate them for their time, he decided that he'd reward them by being the beta testers of his creation.
Two shades, one for the mind and one for the body, would inhabit each individual. Depending on their commitment, they could select any animal they chose. The most dedicated would be humans. The only task they had was to acquire knowledge of earth and the universe to pass down to the next shades, and if they didn't want to do that, they could be doctors or lawyers or frycooks or whatever.
Eventually, the inventor will finish his project and earth will be a paradise. Until then, hold tight.
----
When I was thinking about this, I went super in-depth and thought about why shades chose to be men or women, why you need two shades, what the limit on lives are, and why we don't remember being a shade. I will not go into that because I sound like a whacko right now.
-Ryan
Sunday Morning Philosophy
Here's a fun game for you.
So everyone comes to college and starts thinking about their existence. It's universal; we're getting older and we want to know why we're here. Some people just get depressed and forget about it, some settle for religion, some become authors, some post to their blog. Here's what you should do to get that out of the way.
The rules of the game are as follows.
1. Take a shower or nap or sit somewhere where you can really think.
2. Make up your own reason for your existence. Your own religion. If you settle with "life is meaningess," you're doing it wrong.
3. Write it down.
4. Believe it as truth.
5. Tell people about it (or don't).
Basically what I'm saying is, sure you can believe in the religion you've been assigned to, but why do you have to? Can your ideas be any worse than those of some uneducated bedouins who lived thousands of years ago? Religion should be way more personal.
I'm going to post my reason for existence that I made up last week. Feel free to comment with yours, make fun of me, or if you're really lazy, just believe in mine.
-Ryan
So everyone comes to college and starts thinking about their existence. It's universal; we're getting older and we want to know why we're here. Some people just get depressed and forget about it, some settle for religion, some become authors, some post to their blog. Here's what you should do to get that out of the way.
The rules of the game are as follows.
1. Take a shower or nap or sit somewhere where you can really think.
2. Make up your own reason for your existence. Your own religion. If you settle with "life is meaningess," you're doing it wrong.
3. Write it down.
4. Believe it as truth.
5. Tell people about it (or don't).
Basically what I'm saying is, sure you can believe in the religion you've been assigned to, but why do you have to? Can your ideas be any worse than those of some uneducated bedouins who lived thousands of years ago? Religion should be way more personal.
I'm going to post my reason for existence that I made up last week. Feel free to comment with yours, make fun of me, or if you're really lazy, just believe in mine.
-Ryan
Friday, April 2, 2010
In defense of the fauxhawk
When I first arrived at this fine institution, I had long, shaggy hair and a hat. Mindful that first impressions were everything, after just a few weeks I went to the nearest barber and had everything shorn off, spare a tuft in the middle. Of course, to all of my college friends, this seemed drastic, a higher education-induced means to find myself after being lost for a few long weeks.
This was not the case.
Pan to mid-July. As I sat and read a book on my brand new kindle that I had received as a graduation present, my mind began warping and twisting. Thoughts raced and despite all my best mental efforts, I was easing into an existential crisis. At first I thought it would only last a few hours, but after realizing just how vivid my thoughts had been, and just how hard my stomach had dropped, settled into the miserable thought that I may be this way for a long, long time. And I was.
For the rest of July and almost all of August, few things seemed real or necessary; I kinda just stood miserable in my uniform for a while, wishing I were dead and simultaneously wishing I would live forever.
In this search for meaning, I “realized” that nothing especially mattered and to symbolize that, I asked my barber to cut my hair into a fauxhawk. It wasn’t because I thought it looked good- it was an act of exaggerated, depressed and ironic despair. So frustrated with life, I wanted my barber to cut me the ugliest haircut I could think of. I wanted sleazy hair, as insincere as possible to signify just how meaningless I thought my existence was.
Time moved on, I got excited for college, my fauxhawk got too long to put up with gel, and I slowly eased out of those terrible thoughts. However, one issue remained.
With a fauxhawk, I kind of looked… good.
When I got to work droopy eyed and miserable that day in July, I received more compliments on my appearance than I had ever received in my life. Every single waiter, waitress and busboy told me that they liked my hair. Every one.
So to be honest, I could have kept my hair long and shaggy and it wouldn’t have especially mattered, but both fortunately and unfortunately, and despite any meaning I had originally given my drastic new haircut, it simply looks better this way.
-Ryan
This was not the case.
Pan to mid-July. As I sat and read a book on my brand new kindle that I had received as a graduation present, my mind began warping and twisting. Thoughts raced and despite all my best mental efforts, I was easing into an existential crisis. At first I thought it would only last a few hours, but after realizing just how vivid my thoughts had been, and just how hard my stomach had dropped, settled into the miserable thought that I may be this way for a long, long time. And I was.
For the rest of July and almost all of August, few things seemed real or necessary; I kinda just stood miserable in my uniform for a while, wishing I were dead and simultaneously wishing I would live forever.
In this search for meaning, I “realized” that nothing especially mattered and to symbolize that, I asked my barber to cut my hair into a fauxhawk. It wasn’t because I thought it looked good- it was an act of exaggerated, depressed and ironic despair. So frustrated with life, I wanted my barber to cut me the ugliest haircut I could think of. I wanted sleazy hair, as insincere as possible to signify just how meaningless I thought my existence was.
Time moved on, I got excited for college, my fauxhawk got too long to put up with gel, and I slowly eased out of those terrible thoughts. However, one issue remained.
With a fauxhawk, I kind of looked… good.
When I got to work droopy eyed and miserable that day in July, I received more compliments on my appearance than I had ever received in my life. Every single waiter, waitress and busboy told me that they liked my hair. Every one.
So to be honest, I could have kept my hair long and shaggy and it wouldn’t have especially mattered, but both fortunately and unfortunately, and despite any meaning I had originally given my drastic new haircut, it simply looks better this way.
-Ryan
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