6.22.2006

watching the bbc series "walking w/ dinosaurs" recently reminded me how relative the idea of evolutionary progress really is. the cryptoclidus is generally considered a relic of earth's rocky evolutionary past, but i have to admit, i'm really a little jealous.

a sort of 'tweener within the animal kingdom, this massive aquatic reptile was probably walking around on land for a few million years before he decided to get back to his roots; so he shaved his limbs back down to flippers and hit the beach. the thing is, food was so much more plentiful poolside. and we're talking about an animal that was so massive that he could just hang out on the shore like a beached whale and then, when necessary, plop into the sea for .5 seconds and swim through a school of fish w/ his mouth open. that's it. that's dinner.

i'm failing to see where humans got the better deal really. can you imagine such perfect symbiosis w/ your environment that all you have to do is poke your head outside and cruise around w/ your piehole open for sustenance? duck outside and swoop thru a fleet of ho ho's vs. hunting and gathering?

dude, we eat the evolutionary dick.

6.14.2006

sadly, i've never really thought about career from the big picture. economics aside, the fundamental laws of survival dictate that one should aspire for something that could ultimately save your ass.

which means that an IT guy is pretty much fucked. equipped w/ only the non-action of "troubleshooting," the IT professional -- bureacrat of the modern age -- is essentially lunchmeat if the shit hitz the fan. if the sum total of one's skillset can be distilled down to the act of moving around abstract ideas inside of an imaginary workplace, then i sincerely doubt you'll make it to the copter in time.

really, i'm struggling to see a practical application or post-apocalyptic survival technique coming out of all this. the problem is, it's just enough expertise to make your role tragically useless. i can't hack the atm, but i can fix your mom's printer. as you might imagine, there are fewer and fewer opportunities for that bit of expertise during a nuclear winter. and while i can solve problems, they typically relate to something that you're doing wrong. so really, unless you're fucking up, i won't have much to offer. more and more, it seems pretty clear that the rag-tag zombie task-force will end up abandoning me at the gas station on the edge of town.

if you're a bike messenger then you can just pedal away from some harrowing shit like that. if you're a cabbie, then you remember the actual route to the fuck-outta-there and proceed directly. if you're a lawyer then you create some kind of Hitchcockian scenario in which suspense and your mastery of social poltics allow you to gain advantage. if you're me then you get eated up by the giant, genome-mutated squid.

the idea of a blog/wiki/website of fake bands. modeled on the allmusic formats w/ inter-related links.

Let this be repository-as-respite from the woes of daily life because, as freud once said:

"the most funny is when you're joking about bad shit"