Why the Sith rule

I just saw Episode III; and although I believe it is a good movie, and it does certainly make up for the past two Episodes as well as ties up all loose ends very nicely with a tidy bow, there are still certain... questions it leaves unanswered. Questions that won't let me sleep.

 

Where do the Jedi get all their capes?

 

Think about it, they are always wearing those brown colored capes all the time. Just before a battle starts they take the cape thing off for the fight; they begin swinging their lightsabers around, jumping, dancing and the usual Jedi stuff. After the fight ends, they just leave; not once did I see them go and pick up their robes. Not even Yoda, the great Jedi Master took the sweet decency of grabbing his cape back. And considering his size, I bet it is real hard for him to find robes that fit him.

 

Where do they get the money to buy them? Actually... I don't think they buy them at all. See that scene where Obi-Wan is so concerned because Anakin/Vader killed the younglings and Padawans? It is not because he brutally killed them that he was concerned, is because they are the ones in charge of manufacturing the Jedi robes! Without them there would be no more Jedi capes for him to wear! Yes, it makes perfect sense now; younglings' training deals with confectioning the capes for the Jedi Masters. Bah! No wonder the Sith rebelled, friggin' Jedi and their child labor.

 

Why do they call it Light side? Is it dietetic? Does it mean that by being on the Light Side of the Force I have to become vegetarian? Be fit?

 

But you know, the Sith philosophy actually makes some sense. I mean, it is very pragmatic to tell people just the light side of things; just how they should be done. Whereas knowing there is a dark side to things allows one to take better decisions; just knowing one side of the story takes away all individuality and power of decision making. "Hey, you see, this is the Light Side; it is what we thought you. But there is also a Dark Side, concerning this and that. You can look for it, but do not expect us to take you back with open arms when you come back all burned up inside." Oh no, instead they say: "Either you do it our way, or we'll kill your right there and then."

 

Let me make my decisions, but this also means being conscious about the responsibilities your decision carries. At any moment I can decide if I want to steal, murder, cheat or not; but at that very same moment I know I broke certain laws and I must deal with it too. Aaaaah, maturity. It is a wonderful thing. Better teach the youglings and Padawans to be mature and responsible.

 

Plus, I never did see a Sith lose his robe. They know how to take care for their schitt.

Okay, something a little serious

I was just reading about this girl that was kidnapped; this whole search thing began as an effort try to find her. Rewards were offered, posters where glued, news where aired on TV and the newspapers printed ads asking for information. After something like a week later, the little girl - seven years old I believe - was found tortured, raped, murdered and in a trash can with lots and lots of concrete on top.

 

Nice.

 

This is just the background for what I really want to reflect upon. Some people are bashing TV stations and all around the news because they spend around 400 hours dealing with the murder of a famous TV star... okay... maybe she was not even really famous - I did not know who the heck she was - but the point is it had a lot more coverage than the little girl had. Total coverage dealing with news regarding the little girl: around 10 hours at most.

 

Some think this makes no sense because in a way, finding this little girl and the kidnapper is more important than a star dying. The other day I read this whole article of another star who got her car stolen; every gossip spreading program wes filled with video segments interviewing the poor, poor TV star who wins millions of bucks who can easily buy another car. Is the little girl more important? Or at least, just as important? Aren't news reports dealing with violence on the streets more important than talking about Pitt's break up with Anniston -read all about it here , by the way; girls, you have a chance. Maybe it is more socially important to debate about gay marriages than Martha Stewart's Emmy award?

 

No, it is not.

 

At least, not from my point of view. I already know the world is a shitty place. The last thing I need is TV programs spending 400 hours reminding me of how we rape, torture and kill little girls. The last thing I need is the newspapers reminding me about the shooting last night involving narcs, leaving 4 people dead and 2 more in critical condition on the hospital. Hell! Don't we turn on the TV to forget a little about the world? As a mean of entertainment? To release stress? Then indeed I believe talking about the poor, poor millionare TV star's stolen car is far more appropriate and entertaining to me than a murdered girl - unless, of course, you have serious issues.

 

I call that explotaition TV, making use of human emotions and other people's suffering to increase rating.

 

Just take note, I am not saying the Idiot Box entertaining us, making us forget the real world and turning us into mindless drones is okay either. See here, I do not even watch TV... okay... maybe I do from time to time, but not fanatically - unless it is NipTuck, I love that thing. I am just saying that whenever I turn the TV on, I do it to forget about the real world for a while. To live in a world of magic, to be transported into the life and times of all those fantastic characters living in a box. Way I see it, the TV's social function is to entertain us the same way alcohol, cigars and music do and therefore must be taken with measure, in small doses; the same way your mother used to tell you playing too much Nintendo would suck your brain? She was not saying Nintendo is bad, just that too much might be harmful; too much TV might be harmful; too much alcohol might be harmful. The trick is to find the right doses for just about right entertainment. And that, is something completely up to the user's responsability.

 

But when I want to know about real life, I will make sure to look out the window.

How?!

This is a quick post my Ol' Three Faithful Readers; just to do a question to the world.

 

Why is it everybody phones me when I am in the bathroom? Not 15 minutes ago, while I was enjoying a nice little chat in the Private Office reading my favorite magazines - and yes, I do mean reading! - when my phone began to ring. I totally and utterly hate that.

 

Let us forget about the phone ringing in the other room; what is worse is when your cellphone rings. Picture this: you are in the bathroom... no no no... a public restroom; just chilling, sittin in the Throne, doing whatever business you have to do in it. And suddenly, your pants start vibrating; the cellphone falls of the pocket of your squished, wrinkled pants into the yellow/greenish colored floor. Reluctantly you pick it up, and answer. It is your girlfriend, and just imagine the oddity of other people listening to someone in the Private Office talking, on the phone, to his honey bunny while taking a dump. And suddenly, *FLUSH!* Right on the phone's speaker. Ooo yeah, pretty.

 

From now on, if you call me when I'm in the Private Office, I swear I will throw the damn phone into the Throne and flush it!

... what the?

Just a senseless side note my Ol' Three Faithful Readers: my Coke tastes funny.

 

I know Mexican Coke tastes different from US Coke, and no doubt different than Canadian, Spanish, German or Cambodian Coke. But this Coke tasted like normal Coke a few hours ago. Maybe if I put it in the fridge it will have back it's Coke-ish flavor. Heck! Maybe temperature is part of the secret recipe for Coke to taste like Coke; or maybe the temperature hamper the effects chemicals in charge of making holes in my stomach, and when they get hot they begin to emit a funny taste as a warning, saying: "Do not drink this! It is bad for your health! It will devour you from inside!" Or maybe while I was not looking aliens took my Coke hostage and added some weird chemicals to do experiments with me!

 

...

 

... or maybe it just needs to be cold in order to be refreshing...

 

...

 

In any case I will put it in the fridge for and hour or two.

Something that Freaks Me Out

People with Strabismus.

 

This illness is also known as eye turns, crossed eyes, wandering eyes or deviating eye. Note this is different to what is known as Lazy Eye, which is just one eye losing visibility. Strabismus on the other hand deals with one eye being deviated either inward (esotropia) or outward (exotropia). There's a lot other conditions that have to do with strabismus, you can check it out on here.

 

Why is this freaky to me? Because I never know what eye is actually seeing me! Furthermore, I tend to look at people in the eyes when I am talking to them; what eye am I supposed to see? Completely upsets my mind.

 

I wonder... can they look at two things at the same time? Pretty much like lizards do? Because in a certain way that is actually cool; you can be putting attention at whatever is happening in front of you -like, me talking for example, or a teacher giving a class- and use your other eye to look at that fine USDA Approved Meat Goddesses passing by in hope of the wind raising up her skirt.

 

Maybe that is what adds a certain freakyness to the movie May, the fact that the main character has a deviated eye... okay, she also has very serious issues. Oh yeah, check that movie out, May rules! You can read the review at Bloody Disgusting by clicking, right ---> here <---. From that movie onward I decided Angela Bettis rocks my socks.

 

Somehow those kind of illness that are plain visible make people have the creepies because... because... I do not know. Maybe we are remembered of our own "normality" and mediocrity. This is funny because people who have a certain disabilities are far more tenacious than us "normal" people. Just check this out: last year, on the 2004 Olympic Games, Mexico got only 3 silver medals and 1 bronze medals. On the same year's Paralympic Games we got 14 gold, 10 silver and 10 bronze.

 

I do not know about you, but to me this is a slap in the face. Here we are, us "normal," "complete" and "sane" people and we cannot show as much discipline and dedication as the "disabled." What is it? Do we need to lose a leg, have a birth problem or just lose some of our capabilities to fight for what we want? Those people have fought with all their hearts and look were it has gotten them; top of the world ma'! Maybe it is time we take a cue too, no?

 

This is KillerFry, over and out.

The Ultimate Test

How do you know what you see around you is really real? How can you be sure you are not living in some sort of Matrix? Is there really a God up there? I do not have the answers to those questions, but I do know something most people do not.

 

I know when Chinese Food is real.

 

Whenever I go to eat Chinese Food in a restaurant with Real, 100% Illegal Chinese dudes cooking, I always get diarrhea. Yes! It is true my Ol' Three Faithful Readers. Each and every time I eat Chinese Food it is like a bomb falling down on my stomach; just minutes -nay, sometimes seconds-  after I devour the food I begin to hear gurgling, like a volcano getting ready to erupt. Ooooh yes, erupt is the right word indeed. But see, Chinese Food is so delicious that even though I know this will undoubtly happen, I still eat it with great joy and happyness. Explosive diarrhea is but a small price to be paid for the pleasures of Chinese Food.

 

My take on this? Maybe it is some spice chefs use on the food that upsets my belly.

 

Just the other day I ordered Chinese Food, and I was ready for the eruption afterwards. And you know what happened? It did not come. I wondered why the heck it had not come?! Where is my gurgling?! I miss it! It meant that whoever had cooked the food did not use that magical, special and lovable spice that my stomach fears. It means the cook was not really chinese; because Real, 100% Illegal Chinese dudes use that spice my body lusts for.

 

Hence I have developed the Ultimate Chinese Food Test: if I must go to the bathroom immediately after eating Chinese Food, then it is real; and the sooner I must go, the better the food was. If on the contrary I do not have the need to go to the Private Office, then it is fake Chinese Food.

 

Now, I'm ready for today's eruption. Pass me the phone! I must order Chinese Food!

Signs

Greetings my Ol' Three Faithful Readers.

As you can see, I'm turning into a regular posting kinda person, since I have more "free" time -somehow I manage to get involved with time consuming things, like "searching" for a job. And let me begin the controversy by telling you something that might make some cry, others curse and some will become nay-sayers; I know the Pretty Assistant will do all three of them plus punch me in the nose.

 

Paul is dead.

 

Yes, I am referring to Paul McCartney of The Beatles fame. No, do not turn away nor laugh at me! This actually happened; back in September 1969 the rumor began circulating stating that Paul McCartney was dead since 1966, killed in an automobile accident some day at 5:00am. Supposedly a secret contest was held to replace him with someone who looked a lot like him; William Campbell was that such person and he underwent minor surgeries to be more Pual-ish. Don't believe me? Well, you can Google "Paul is Dead" and you will find 14,100,000 pages with info. But since I know you are a bunch of lazy people, I will provide you one of the most comprehensive links I found; be sure to check it out because take it from me, it wll freak you out. After you crap your pants, change into clean undies then come back to this, your humble servant's blog, and continue reading. And now, without further ado, for your enjoyment, Ladies and Gentlemen, just click here .

 

*sits back, grabs his Coke and listens to music*

 

Welcome back!

 

Wasn't that fun, eh? If I must be honest, I really don't mind much about all that Paul is Dead thing; personally I think it was a marketing ploy. Nevertheless, if it turned out to be true then we have all been taken for the fools we are. It would become something like, the ultimate joke.  Andy Kaufman, eat your heart out. Meanwhile this made me think of a subject entirely different.

 

See here, have you not ever become obsessed with something? Easiest example, with a number. Then suddenly you find yourself looking at that number everywhere! You see it on street adresses, on television programs, ads, people's underwear, your pet's barking sounds like that number and if you convert your name's letters to their number in the alphabet equivalent, add them up, multiply them by 3 and do a 2's Complement of the binary result, guess what you get? You're righ! That number you are obsessed with!

 

It not only happens with numbers, another great example would be something along the lines of becoming obsessed with a girl -not that it ever happened to me. Suddenly you start seeing her everywhere, you realize your names have the same number of letters and then you start wondering if that wink she gave you the other day probably meant something. And when she hugs you, could it be she is onto you and your juicy buttocks? Then one day she phones you because she's bored; could it mean she just wanted to hear your sweet voice?

 

Odd are, the answer to all of those questions is: You freak! I bet she really was just bored and decided she wanted you for a clown at that moment. She hugged you because no one else was around and she winked her eye because dust had fallen on her eye. But it is one's obsession that turns everything around him into this one big sign from the Powers That Be because deep down, we hope and pray they are for real.

 

EVP, or Electronic Voice Phenomenon, made popular thanks to the movie White Noise, is another example. If you scan white noise long enough you will eventually find a signal wheter it is there or not. Remember when subliminal messages when you play a song backwards became popular? Yes, if your mind is set to it you will start listening to all sort of hidden messages because you are willing to. In other words, you will trick your own mind to whatever you want and start seeing signs from The Powers That Be all around you.

 

And why is this? Well, the human brain works by making connections between patterns. If A then B, and B is to C. *BANG* A is to C. We make associations of everything we look around us and that is how memories and learning is conducted in the brain. Patterns. Don't believe me? Then let us conduct a little eprexmeint, you might rmeemebr an email stating that if wrod's letters are mislaigned, as long as the first and lsat letters are in the right place, the barin will not notice and still read the word fine...

 

*lets you thing about what just happened for a minute*

 

See? Patterns. The brain looks for patterns all around us. We try to understand everything by making correlations between things; unfortunately the system is not always perfect and from time to time we make false associations, which then turn into superstitions such as "if I wear my underwear for three days straight, I will do fine on my test" or "wear red underwear on New Year's Eve and you will have a sex-driven year" and blah blah blah. And that's the reason why when men could not find a logical explanation to thunder, they made up some holy power above and it is all fixed. Heck! From time to time we still question the Powers That Be when we cannot comprehend something. "Why God?! Why did I get diaherrea before my test?!" Blame it on the burritos. We should learn to be more analitical of what we see lest we begin creating false worlds and hopes in our minds. Or else, just like the dude who began this whole "Paul is Dead" hoax, we might just start seeing things all around is that aren't there.

 

But meanwhile, I will wear red underwear come next New Year's Eve.

Lest I forget!

Oh! Before I forget; remember my philosophy: To be the best, you have work with the best.

 

Thanks to everyone who helped in Metamorphoses!

• The Producer and Director: In many ways I hope none of you are reading this, because it would be freaky. Still, thanks for this great oportunity!
• The Right Hand: You might not be reading this, but thanks for helping us through the play; the restless night worrying about us and making sure everything was alright. Your work really pulled us through!
• Mom Away From Home: Thanks for your neverending support, and this time thanks for being the light that shone on stage; without you everything would have been pretty dark on and off stage.
• Pretty Assistant: Once again in the audio chores, thanks for being our voice to the audience and specially for that smile and hugs that gives us joy and hope. And yes, thanks for your stress fits, they make you look prettier :P
• Carrot Head: Hey man! It is always a pleasure to share the stage with you. And no matter what I know that when it comes to the craft, you are always a step above everyone else.
• Wally the Intern: Nice job, but not as good as your mom's! It was nice working with you dude. Cheers!
• Chewie: Never had I met such a lively assitant man, thanks for always being there ready to dress us up and all around support!
• The Rest of the Cast/Staff: Thanks for the good times and it has been a pleasure working with you!
• My Dove: Thanks for existing, because in that rushed and hard pressed week of final rehearsals, proyects and what-not, the thought of you set my mind and heart to peace.
• The PM (Project Manager): Thanks for your patience, since without it I would not have been able to finish the compilers proyect while I was "playing" to be an artist. Really, really, thank you.

And thanks to everyone who came by to see us, I hope that you enjoyed the show! For those who did not come, please step by next semester. And for those who did, come join us again! It is always a pleasure to play the fool for you ;)

And like that...

... it ends.

 

Yes, I still have two more final exams to do and a final presentation. Still they mean nothing, piece of cake. Bah! In other words I am free to do as I please now; at least for a few days. So I sit with a 2L bottle of Sprite and some Doritos by my computer and read, write, play games and watch movies; pretty much everything I did not do while I was in school.

 

For those of you who are lazy and did not read Infinity, the summary is this: Growing old is inevitable, growing up is optional.

 

Well... much has happened since my last post here, and if you want me to be honest, most of it I have blocked from my mind. The sleepless hours trying to make the compiler work, restless hours coding our e-Business Web page, and the such. Other things I do want to remember, like Metamorphoses. Yeah, let me tell you about the play.

 

It came out pretty good. More than just pretty good. All problems it had aside, it was a hit; just on the first night we had the amount of audience other plays have in a whole weekend. Very flashy stuff. I did not read the newspaper review, but it was along the lines that it was okay; to those keeping the score this meant a lot for the school since the reviewer was a very harsh and feared critic with the fame of tearing apart everything she critics. Hence the reviewer saying the play was more than just okay meant a lot to the producers. It also mentioned my performance sticking out from the others for "superb character versatility and control of the scenery."

 

...

 

I do not know what that means, but I guess it is good that I have it.

 

Honestly my Ol' Three Faithful Readers, it is always good to read stuff like that to boost the ego, and some argue that we theater people like attention and that is why we stand up on the spotlight. But what leaves me blinking in bewilderment is that in no point I feel this was my best performance. As in, not at all. Not even remotely one of the good ones. Yeah, maybe it was very showy with the play being in open air, in the middle of a pool and characters coming out of the water; how is that not going to deserve the audience's awe? But all this flashyness does not necessarily mean the performances were excellent. Hell, you could argue that such great and pompous productions exist only to make up for the actor's lack of talent.

 

There were other, more conventional plays that did not receive such attention, or any attention, in which I feel I did better performances. And if the play does not receive attention, much less will the actors. But I will not complain because deep down it is those meh-ish plays that really do mean something to me and define who I am without caring what other people out there think.

 

And wanna know something more comical? Most of those performances I like are the ones in which I did characters which I did not like! Some days ago I read in Scientific American that the male brain works in such a way that it learns better under stress. If we, in a very un-scientific way, extrapolate this to the way in which men perform, then we could say we men perform better under stress. Ergo, the stress of doing a character I did not like made me perform better. And there you go!

 

... *thinks about that last statement for a second*...

 

Of course... we could also then say men perform better under the stress of having sex with a mutant-lady they do not like... which is untrue. So better scratch off my un-scientific theories. Hey! Do not mind me! I'm just an dude studying Computer Science who pretends to be and Actor on his free time. Let us leave science to lab-coats.

 

But if people out there say that what I feel to be my loose performances are excellent, then I will not contradict them. It only comes to prove that sometimes critics do not know schitt about what they are writing, something we had already proved with movie critics anyway. They want to say I did a great performance? Let them.

 

I will sit down, lay back, drink my Sprite, eat my Doritos and not complain about it.