How tired are you?

Over the weekend, while being tired as shit on a bus ride back from NYC, I had an epiphany, I had an epiphany of epiphanic proportions. Yeah, it was that epiphanous.

I've always thought that the phrase "tired as shit" was just slang for "extremely tired." Not once did I think it had actual implications or metaphoric value. But if you think about it, it makes a lot of sense.

Shit actually has a long journey to make before it becomes what it is and ends that journey. If its journey ever ends. Beginning as various seeds from all over the world, harvested by people or ingested by animals which are then harvested by people, it then gets processed and cooked (or not cooked, if you're an animal) before being sent into the digestive system. First, its precursors--the very basis for its existence--is masticated in an oral cavity, before being laboriously squeezed down a narrow, muscular tube. It then must be subjected to gastric acids, before being sent down into the intestines from which it emerges in all its glory.

Imagine that in human terms. To be as tired as shit, you'd have to travel across the continent, get beat up by some punching machines, get roasted over an open fire, run around dodging boulders, get tied up with giant elastic ropes and escape from them, take a swim in acid, then take a tube slide down to the end, where you get dunked into a dunk tank leading to rapids and then a waterfall. Finally, after you hit the bottom of the waterfall, you are tired as shit.

So how tired was I on that bus ride? Well, I'd have to say, now, I was as tired as a desert hare. A desert hare runs around in the sun all day, jumps a lot, sweats a lot and also tries to drink as much water as it can. And also eats lots of dumplings.

First Come, First Served

I do some of my best thinking in the shower.

Laugh if you must, but that is a fact. In the shower, you are alone with yourself. You have nothing to do--except think.

So, recently, while in my heavy thinking mode, I revisited an old quandary: which came first, the chicken or the egg?

This is not, strictly speaking, a very good question. Does it matter which came first? Does knowing the answer serve any purpose? Not really. The answer wouldn't reveal a deeper understanding of human history, nor would it give insight into ancient civilizations' dietary habits. Additionally, regardless of which existed first, the other would have came into existence shortly after. Therefore, the better question is:

Which was eaten first--the chicken or the egg? Now here is a question more suitable for wasting time on. By figuring out which was the first to be consumed, we can deduce the order of the following:
--the invention of the "cooking spit"
--the invention of boiled water
--the formation of PETA

A worthy endeavor for any individual seeking a challenge.

As the one to pose the question, I shall now attempt to answer it. Technically, neither the chicken nor the egg need fire to be prepared, the eating of eggs and chickens could have preceded the invention of fire. However, since eating either raw could lead to severe food poisoning and/or death. So, I have deduced that both entered the menu after the invention of fire.

To cook a chicken, all you need is a stick and a fire. Stick the stick through the chicken like a spit, and then roast it. Easy, and delicious. A fairly primitive group of people could do something like that. This might lead one to believe that, given the simplistic nature of chicken cooking, eating chicken came before eating eggs.

But consider also! Boiled water back then was pretty much essential to survival. Who knows what kind of vicious bacteria lived in streams. So, being necessary to staying alive, would it not be inconcievable that boiled water came into being shortly after the method needed to heat it (i.e. fire)? And from there, how difficult would it be to, intentionally or accidently, drop an egg in said boiling water and end up with a boiled egg? Conclusive evidence that the egg was the first to be eaten.

But this leaves a dilemma. Both are equally plausible options.

The question remains: Which came first, the roasted chicken or the boiled egg?

The answer is Chuck Norris.

Chicken or Egg

British scientists, after millions of dollars and years of research, have discovered that the chicken comes before the egg.
http://www.nydailynews.com/news/world/2010/07/14/2010-07-14_which_came_first_the_chicken_or_the_egg_the_chicken_researchers_say.html

A huge waste of money and time if you ask me. I proved the same fact using no money and about 6 seconds. The Meriam-Webster dictionary shows that the chicken came, in fact, a couple of hundred pages before the egg. QED

The Future of Art

As some of you may know, I'm perhaps the greatest connoisseur of art since Medusa first petrified Ancient Greeks for her personal museum of Stoned People. And it is with great dismay that I note the stagnation of art. Ever since the great innovations of Paul (better known to the uncultured as Jackson Pollack), there has been no progress; instead, dare I say it, we exist now in an era of artistic regression!

Why is this? Why are some of our most talented creative geniuses forming these so-called "Starving Artists" guilds? What happened to the proud artists who devoted themselves to voluntary starvation for the sake of creative stimulation, and in true artistic irony called themselves "Satiated Artists"? Well, that last question is not really rhetorical, because I have an answer to it. In the past, after an artist starved himself and achieved creative enlightenment, his works then sold for millions and he no longer needed to starve himself. Upon his millions, then, he was able to grow Satiated.


So to recap: what has changed? Well, clearly, artists are not evolving from Starving to Satiated at the usual Level 16. And that brings us back to the original problem--the stagnation of art. After painfully studying this subject for the past five minutes, I've decided that someone (me) needs to re-stimulate the field. Give it the kick that it needs to once again become a Renaissance-inducing, Church-toppling, Science-blaspheming, Spaghetti-monster-worshipping, pirate-imitating juggernaut that it once was.


So, here goes. I call these: Waltz in Paint. (Since it is a three part series.)


This is Waltz in Paint, First Movement (allegro). The excitement of a first dance is clearly conveyed by the diverse blend of colors. The variety represents the wonder, joy, and astonishment that comes with a first experience, the thirst to enjoy every aspect. At the same time, there is clearly an overall gracefulness underlying the superficial chaos. Sporadic fluctuations intersperse with the overall presentation of the flow; the apparent clumsiness belies the inner beauty of the dance.


In the beginning
Awkward twitches hidden in
The beauty of dance




This is Waltz in Paint, Second Movement (accelerando)

The second movement is on an entirely different level from the first. Whereas the first is shadowed by jittery movements and nervous tension, the second is an exhilarating crescendo of movement. The blur of blue, the hazy hues, the muddy maroon, the lascivious lavender, surging from soft swirls and crashing into a bold symphonic explosion. The established conventions are innovated and improved, varying from traditional progressions to avant-garde interpretations, rising to the apex of the crest.

And then it was said:
Let there be stuff happening!
And then stuff happened.


Waltz in Paint, Third Movement (andante)





















This last piece is a true piece de resistance. It is at once stimulating yet mellow, colorful yet faded, joyful yet melancholy. In it, you can clearly see an incredible range of expression. It is highly specific, and yet, each viewer can find a uniquely personal interpretation. It is a crucible of emotions, but somehow emotionless. Only a work of this magnitude can serve as both the climax and denouement of this three-piece waltz.

To purchase this art,
The bidding will open at
One box of Pocky.