I took one of those personality test things in one of my classes today. The type that give you the four-letter label. As stupid and generic as those things can be, mine did say that people with my specific label make up 1% of the total population.
At first I was excited because that means I’m very unique, and then I realized I was alone in the world and began sobbing right there in the classroom. When the teacher asked what was wrong I ran like a little girl out the door.
Later, at a bar, I was-
Okay, most of that shit didn’t actually happen and I apologize for my dishonesty.
That’s right! I lied!
I didn’t take a test! I just felt like crying! And then I went and got hammered! FUCKED FIFTEEN HOOKERS, I DID, I DID!
Wow, I’m in a fucked up mood tonight.
I was reading on the internet this post by this kid talking about how he’s in an all-atheist family and how he’s secretly a Christian because he’s been going to church secretly with his friends.
This kid’s like the 007 of the faith world.
A real Undercova Brotha in Christ.
Author’s Note: I actually laughed out loud at that joke. My own joke. And I think it’s really funny. This is insanity I hope you never have to deal with, my friends.
Anyway, that kid would have just as easily been saved by Islam. It was only a matter of which brand of bullshit got to him first. He was just another person who wanted to have all the answers, even if they were all wrong.
Surely having to spend your years saying, “I don’t know” to some questions is a fate worse than death after. Maybe having to do actual research on others? OH. EM. GEE!
~Ben
1. Pay Pal charging me 2 dollars and a half an hour of annoying tedious bullshit when I would just like to close my account.
2. My mom being so eager to go out drinking that she forgets to do things that have to be done before she leaves for fucking Nevada tomorrow.
3. Seriously, WHAT THE FUCK PAY PAL!? Your name is only half true. I’m paying, but you are being a real dick about it.
4. My mom coming home hammered. Drunk people are really annoying. They weren’t at first and, at least in the case of a few friends, can still be pretty funny. For the most part, though, they’re just obnoxious people. They shout, they puke, and they lose all their sense of humor once the booze wears off which happens pretty fucking quick.
I think the reason I’ve pretty much have gone sober is for the social reasons. When most people are drunk, they want to find other drunk people. When they’re sober, they could give a fuck less.
I’m a much different breed. When I’m sober, I want to play Mega Man or whatever game has my attention. When I’m drunk, I want to play Mega Man or whatever game has my attention. I’m very aware of how much of a shut off nerd I am, but that’s just my personality. I don’t have fun at parties, but I do enjoy hanging out and there’s a big difference.
So when somebody I know is fucked up and I’m not, and I have to hear them shout and throw up, it’s pretty annoying when you were planning for a nice night at home. It’s even worse when that person is your fucking mom.
That just makes you want to move out. It’s not the first time I watched my mom drunk in a Halloween costume but it’s still not something I’m use to.
Can’t wait to leave this place, is all I’m saying.
5. There wasn’t a “scary” fucking thing on television. ABC family used to be the king of stupid shit that was supposed to be spooky and that was my entertainment, damn it! Instead, they fucking showed Batman. What the fuck is going on here? Closest thing to horror I got was Night of the Living Dead, but that movie is actually decent so it’s not what I’m looking for.
6. And what I really hate is just how much Halloween sucks these past few years. I spent all day watching a dog for a drunk woman, watching Enter the Dragon, and hoping like hell no trick or treater’s show up.
Not the best way to spend the one Halloween that landed on a Saturday.
I hope yours was significantly better, though.
~Ben
I’ve been having a lot of trouble updating this damn thing. I’ve been having a severe lack of energy lately so any motivation I do have ends up going to a huge amount of schoolwork that has plagued me for the past two weeks. I managed to finish it all up yesterday, so at least it’s done.
I have a doctor’s appointment in a week, and I’m rather uncomfortable about it. It’s always so long in between doctor visits for me that I’m always afraid something terrible has happened in my body in that time.
I have to get two things checked out. One of which, I’ll be happy to finally be done with, and the other I’m a little more nervous about.
The first thing I have are these little wart-like growths on my fingers. I have one on my left middle finger and one on my right ring finger, and they’re repulsive to anybody who ever notices them. Luckily, nobody really does, and if they do it’s after a long time of ignorance. I’ve always been really secretive of them, though, because it’s a lot of hassle when people start telling you there’s something wrong with you like it’s a new thing.
I’ve had them since at least the 6th grade, so they don’t bother me too much. I’d like them gone, but the only real reason I want to get them checked out is because one is starting to hurt a little bit when I bend my finger.
The other thing is a mole I have on my head. It’s hidden underneath my hair, but it’s one of those ugly moles. Like it could lead to cancer, not that it’s hairy or lumpy. The kind that you kind of get nervous about.
I’ve had it for probably my entire life, but now that I need to get it looked at, a lot of fear driven “what if?” scenarios are popping up and I end up scaring myself over something that hasn’t bother me for the many years I’ve known about it.
It’s stupid, and I know adding to my stress is just worse to my health, but that’s the price I pay for an overactive imagination. An overactive imagination being something I couldn’t really use after elementary school.
~Ben
Today was one of those really bad days where the world just tries to pile everything up on you at once. I never responded well to that kind of pressure and I don’t believe anybody should, frankly.
For some, reason, I’m finding school to be much more difficult when I’m trying to actually accomplish something. I think the teachers smelled the change in my attitude and decided it was time to challenge this boy.
“Oh yeah, he’s ready!” they think with a certainty similar to one owned by Evil Knievel, right before he did something stupid.
So all my classes decide to throw everything possible at me to somehow juggle in the span of two weeks. Anytime I get handed a new assignment I want to raise my hand and politely ask, “Yes, excuse me, but are you fucking high? I can’t get all this shit done! THERE’S NO TIME, MAN!”
So, I sit down to read my book during lunch. Trying to pretend like I’m cool and collected. I’m reading Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
and I hit a really bleak realization when I’m almost finished with it.
“Journalism is not a profession or a trade. It is a cheap catch-all for fuckoffs and misfits.”
I never really say I’m interested in journalism when I tell people I want to be a writer. In fact, I don’t tell them much of anything because I don’t really know myself.
Still, this quote just seemed so true for writing in general and whether it’s because I’ve been hit over the head with a similar message from various sources over the past few days or today was just a bad day, I felt like an absolute failure.
I’ve been told I’m such a good writer, but is that even a fucking talent anymore? So many people apparently want to be writers, but do they even have anything worth saying? For that matter, do I?
It reminded me of this girl in my Native American literature class. I believe she said she wanted to be a writer at the beginning of the year, and she was always reading some sort of philosophy. I haven’t read anything she actually wrote, so anything I say here is speculation but I think it’s a valid point.
She talks a lot. She’ll tell a story to the class about her “grannie” if you just say a single word that she feels is somewhat related.
Aside from it being a little irritating, my real problem is how can you want to be a writer, and be an open book at the same time?
But I’m going off topic.
I was just having this collapse in dreams, feeling like I’m a joke, when one of the many mothers who attend my school, decided that bringing her kid was a great idea.
I’m sitting Indian style, against a wall, reading a book and there’s a baby who thinks I’m just the most fascinating thing in the world. She won’t actually touch me (thank god), but she will stand a foot away and eat animal crackers while staring at me.
“Don’t even look up. Don’t even fucking think about looking up. This kid has to think you’re the damn boogeyman because if she gets closer, you just might snap.” I think to myself biting my lip.
Minutes pass.
“Jesus christ, it hasn’t moved. I’m a kid who wears a black hooded sweatshirt, black t-shirt, and has messy hair. I haven’t acknowledged this girl’s presence, and she is still here.”
I want to snap at her. Not to be a real dick, although I did tell my mom that because I like to make her always think she gave birth to monster, but I just knew it would get her away from me. I can’t communicate with people my own age in this state of stress, so decency towards a toddler was absolutely out of the question.
It wouldn’t be until another child showed up that she left the failure against the wall alone. No incident. No pissed-off mother to handle. No crying baby. No boogeyman.
It wasn’t the kid’s fault. It was a bad day and bad timing on her part, and she’ll never know she almost made a man lose his shit just because he was having an identity crisis or whatever you would call it.
So I’m still at a point where writing feels cheapened. I have a suspicion that people are doing it just because it’s the easiest job to get that still has a sense of dignity with it. That it’s just a quick way for them to validate their lives, and to be “special”. I think about how many books are in the many bookstores and libraries, and wonder how many of them had authors who actually cranked out something that meant something to them.
I’m also wondering if I’m just one of these people who wanted an easy way out and that I just don’t realize it.
I don’t really know, but I do know that when all this insanity started brewing in my head today, my first reaction was to find a way to write about it.
Maybe I’m heading in the right direction.
~Ben
I feel like I’m the only one who isn’t bursting with excitement over Dragon Age: Origins.
The first thing I thought heard about was, “God, that’s a terrible title.” But a title can’t decide whether a game is good or not so I’ve been keeping an eye open for Dragon Age content because while I’m not the biggest fan Bioware games, I get some kick out of seeing what they’re up to and I mean that positively.
After seeing more videos than I care to, I am really not interested.
And the problem is, I should be.
I’m a fantasy glutton. I eat the shit up. Let me create a character, put him in a suit of armor, and let me cut shit up and I’ll happy for about 2-3 weeks.
But nothing about this game is looking interesting to me. It’s hard enough finding a straight gameplay video, and when I do it doesn’t look all that fun. Everything seems so generic and I’m not sure if the world will make up for it with it’s stories.
Maybe it’s just not my cup of tea. I’m getting the impression that me and Bioware aren’t meant to be together. ‘Tis a shame.
In other news, I beat 358/2 days a few weeks ago. The final few boss fights I thought were actually pretty cool and the story was very satisfying. I didn’t like it as much as 1 or 2, or even CoM but this game really was a pleasure to play.
I still have no need to really play this multiplayer, but playing as a fully powered Riku is pretty awesome.
Now that I’ve beaten it, though, what’s next?
Well, I seem to be in my phase of playing a shit load of mega man until I find something new to play. A phase I have every couple of months.
~Ben
I’ve been pushing through 358/2 days.
The game has grown on me much more since the last time I talked about it.
I think I’m going to call this trend, “Roxas syndrome”. A very irritating beginning blocks off a very fun game for a couple hours. KH 2 was exactly the same. It had an annoying beginning but after digging past that tutorial layer, lied a treasure chest that had one of my favorite games of all time.
This game (358/2 days, stick with me folks) is really starting to pick up in its story, the combat has finally come around (I had to grind through the mission mode to get a good weapon to find this), and the panel system becomes manageable once the game stops hoarding all the slots.
I’ll grudgingly state the panel system has grown on me.
The mission system is becoming more like Final Fantasy Tactics Advance then Metal Gear Solid Portable Ops for me. Instead of feeling like I’m being given a Diet Disney world, I find myself saying, “Just one more mission” until 2 and a half hours have passed.
I still think this is the weakest KH game I’ve played but, it’s surprisingly strong nonetheless. I’m happy to eat my words because I love this series. If you can power through the terrible case of Roxas Syndrome, this game has legs.
Lots of legs. Like a fucking spider. Like a god-spider of virtual fun.
I’d probably like spiders more if they would just provide some virtual entertainment. That’s the problems with spiders. They’re assholes. They never just want to play a few rounds of Call of Duty.
I’m clearly tired. Good night.
~Ben
So, the project I’ve been planning is a webcomic. The internet doesn’t really need another one of these, but I think I have a pretty funny idea behind this.
The 50 dollar item I bought was a new drawing tablet. In between school and homework, I’m practicing with this and getting used to photoshop again.
Here’s a little picture I worked on in my spare time. To be fair, I don’t like the image as it is and I have another save of it I’m going to keep working on, but I do think it’s showing progress.
Unlike the many terrible webcomics I’ve tried to make, I’m thinking about going entirely digital for this one.
And yes, penguins play a role in this idea of mine. Why, you ask?
Leave me alone.
~Ben
So I’m a good few missions into 358/2 days now and I can comfortably say this is the least fun Kingdom Hearts game I’ve played so far.
It’s still been fun but I have many problems with.
I hate the mission system. It turns what has always been a linear game series into a serious of hallways, for the most part.
I hate the panel system. If I’m only going to be able to use the bare minimum essentials, what was wrong with the original KH equipment system?
The camera is way too far behind Roxas, and it won’t stay behind him.
The fact that it really didn’t need to be a DS game, and had it been planned for the PS2, they could have avoided most of these problems.
It feels like a really dumbed down version of a game I love. Chain of Memories was a portable chapter in the story, and they embraced the limitations and ended up making a really good system with the cards. This just feels like they were limited.
If you still want to play it after hearing all that, then you’re like me and you’re officially Square’s bitch.
~Ben
So the Spooky Fun Nights thing was called off before it started.
The reason for this was concerned with my own doubts. I started to think it wasn’t very entertaining of a concept unless I had brilliant execution. Something I didn’t have faith in given my experience.
I then went and hung out with my friend, Sam, and when we got to talking about shit we could potentially film, I was positive I was planning something terribly mediocre at best.
And let’s be fair; I don’t want to do that much work for something I’m not in love with.
Plus, things are pretty busy overall.
My friend Justin is moving out tomorrow after spending most of the year in my house. I’m not terribly broken up about it, though. There was a lot of drama to it, but I’m just not in the mood to entertain drama of that sort.
I got my 50 dollar item for the project. You should be seeing some of the fruits of my labor shortly. It’ll take awhile to launch fully, but I’ll give you a glimpse of what I’m going for.
I’m trying to develop something of a goal in my life. As in going to college, etc. I think I want to go. I don’t know if I want to go in for writing like I originally thought, though. As much as I like writing, I hate writing classes. I realized this the other day, and on that same day I realized I kind of like the therapist role I often find myself in whenever somebody I know is having problems.
I’m starting to consider if that’s something worth actually pursuing, and if it is, what it will take.
I think I’d be pretty good. Better than Dr. Phil, and look at that retard. He’s got a fucking TV show.
I’m excited. I feel like a chapter is closing on my life and we can start fresh. Which is great because that last one ran a little long.
~Ben
So there are these questions from Chuck Klosterman’s Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs: A Low Culture Manifesto. And I’m more than happy to answer questions, even when I don’t know. Still it’s something to write about.
What? I can’t always be creative.
1. Let us assume you met a rudimentary magician. Let us assume he can do five simple tricks—he can pull a rabbit out of his hat, he can make a coin disappear, he can turn the ace of spades into the Joker card, and two others in a similar vein. These are his only tricks and he can’t learn any more; he can only do these five. HOWEVER, it turns out he’s doing these five tricks with real magic. It’s not an illusion; he can actually conjure the bunny out of the ether and he can move the coin through space. He’s legitimately magical, but extremely limited in scope and influence.
Would this person be more impressive than Albert Einstein?
I have my doubts that most people would see things the same way, but in my opinion he’s absolutely more interesting. Maybe not the man himself, but his abilities proved the existence of some “real magic” and that shit would have my attention.
2. Let us assume a fully grown, completely healthy Clydesdale horse has his hooves shackled to the ground while his head is held in place with thick rope. He is conscious and standing upright, but completely immobile. And let us assume that—for some reason—every political prisoner on earth (as cited by Amnesty International) will be released from captivity if you can kick this horse to death in less than twenty minutes. You are allowed to wear steel-toed boots.
Would you attempt to do this?
I’d probably try to, yes. I doubt I’d pull it off.
3. Let us assume there are two boxes on a table. In one box, there is a relatively normal turtle; in the other, Adolf Hitler’s skull. You have to select one of these items for your home. If you select the turtle, you can’t give it away and you have to keep it alive for two years; if either of these parameters are not met, you will be fined $999 by the state. If you select Hitler’s skull, you are required to display it in a semi-prominent location in your living room for the same amount of time, although you will be paid a stipend of $120 per month for doing so. Display of the skull must be apolitical.
Which option do you select?
Hitler’s skull. That is something worth talking about when people come over. As cool as I find turtles, that Nazi skull sounds like it could turn my life into a twilight zone episode. What’s more interesting?
4. Genetic engineers at Johns Hopkins University announce that they have developed a so-called “super gorilla.” Though the animal cannot speak, it has a sign language lexicon of over twelve thousand words, an I.Q. of almost 85, and—most notably—a vague sense of self-awareness. Oddly, the creature (who weighs seven hundred pounds) becomes fascinated by football. The gorilla aspires to play the game at its highest level and quickly develops the rudimentary skills of a defensive end. ESPN analyst Tom Jackson speculates that this gorilla would be “borderline unblockable” and would likely average six sacks a game (although Jackson concedes the beast might be susceptible to counters and misdirection plays). Meanwhile, the gorilla has made it clear he would never intentionally injure any opponent.
You are commissioner of the NFL: Would you allow this gorilla to sign with the Oakland Raiders?
The Raiders are due for some sort of a fucking advantage. Sure.
5. You meet your soul mate. However, there is a catch: Every three years, someone will break both of your soul mate’s collarbones with a Crescent wrench, and there is only one way you can stop this from happening: You must swallow a pill that will make every song you hear—for the rest of your life—sound as if it’s being performed by the band Alice in Chains. When you hear Creedence Clearwater Revival on the radio, it will sound (to your ears) like it’s being played by Alice in Chains. If you see Radiohead live, every one of their tunes will sound like it’s being covered by Alice in Chains. When you hear a commercial jingle on TV, it will sound like Alice in Chains; if you sing to yourself in the shower, your voice will sound like deceased Alice vocalist Layne Staley performing a capella (but it will only sound this way to you).
Would you swallow the pill?
I’d probably take the pill and then kill myself. But I had better really be in love. Forever and ever kind of love that I doubt even exists.
6. At long last, someone invents “the dream VCR.” This machine allows you to tape an entire evening’s worth of your own dreams, which you can then watch at your leisure. However, the inventor of the dream VCR will only allow you to use this device of you agree to a strange caveat: When you watch your dreams, you must do so with your family and your closest friends in the same room. They get to watch your dreams along with you. And if you don’t agree to this, you can’t use the dream VCR.
Would you still do this?
No. I can’t remember most of my dreams because of how insignificant they are after a day or two. So they’re private and boring. Nobody wants to watch that shit.
7. Defying all expectation, a group of Scottish marine biologists capture a live Loch Ness Monster. In an almost unbelievable coincidence, a bear hunter in the Pacific Northwest shoots a Sasquatch in the thigh, thereby allowing zoologists to take the furry monster into captivity. These events happen on the same afternoon. That evening, the president announces he may have thyroid cancer and will undergo a biopsy later that week.
You are the front page editor of The New York Times: What do you play as the biggest story?
The Loch Ness monster. To me, the president getting sick is lacking in comparison to such a massive discovery. Sasquatch, meanwhile, has always sounded like just another type of ape or something. Nothing worth really giving a front page to.
8. You meet the perfect person. Romantically, this person is ideal: You find them physically attractive, intellectually stimulating, consistently funny, and deeply compassionate. However, they have one quirk: This individual is obsessed with Jim Henson’s gothic puppet fantasy The Dark Crystal. Beyond watching it on DVD at least once a month, he/she peppers casual conversation with Dark Crystal references, uses Dark Crystal analogies to explain everyday events, and occasionally likes to talk intensely about the film’s “deeper philosophy.”
Would this be enough to stop you from marrying this individual?
Yeah, it would. This person doesn’t have any original depth, and therefore isn’t perfect. If I wanted to live with a movie, I’d go fucking buy it.
9. A novel titled Interior Mirror is released to mammoth commercial success (despite middling reviews). However, a curious social trend emerges: Though no one can prove a direct scientific link, it appears that almost 30 percent of the people who read this book immediately become homosexual. Many of these new-found homosexuals credit the book for helping them reach this conclusion about their orientation, despite the fact that Interior Mirror is ostensibly a crime novel with no homoerotic content (and was written by a straight man).
Would this phenomenon increase (or decrease) the likelihood of you reading this book?
It would not have any effect. While I’m almost positive I’m straight, I’m not afraid of turning out to be gay and if a book shows it to me, I’ll just be glad I know where I stand.
Behind a dude’s ass.
10. This is the opening line of Jay McInerney’s Bright Lights, Big City: “You are not the kind of guy who would be in a place like this at this time of the morning.” Think about that line in the context of the novel (assuming you’ve read it). Now go to your CD collection and find Heart’s Little Queen album (assuming you own it). Listen to the opening riff to “Barracuda.”
Which of these two introductions is a higher form of art?
I’m going to go with the book. But I’m not familiar with either. And I don’t really want to become familiar.
11. You are watching a movie in a crowded theater. Though the plot is mediocre, you find yourself dazzled by the special effects. But with twenty minutes left in the film, you are struck with an undeniable feeling of doom: You are suddenly certain your mother has just died. There is no logical reason for this to be true, but you are certain of it. You are overtaken with the irrational metaphysical sense that—somewhere—your mom has just perished. But this is only an intuitive, amorphous feeling; there is no evidence for this, and your mother has not been ill.
Would you immediately exit the theater, or would you finish watching the movie?
I haven’t had a feeling like that before. I don’t know if I’d be able to move out of fear.
12. You meet a wizard in downtown Chicago. The wizard tells you he can make you more attractive if you pay him money. When you ask how this process works, the wizard points to a random person on the street. You look at this random stranger. The wizard says, “I will now make them a dollar more attractive.” He waves his magic wand. Ostensibly, this person does not change at all; as far as you can tell, nothing is different. But—somehow—this person is suddenly a little more appealing. The tangible difference is invisible to the naked eye, but you can’t deny that this person is vaguely sexier. This wizard has a weird rule, though—you can only pay him once. You can’t keep giving him money until you’re satisfied. You can only pay him one lump sum up front.
How much cash do you give the wizard?
I’d give him maybe 5-10 bucks which is usually how much I have on me. The fun fact about life is, we all get pretty fucking ugly by the end of it. A confidence boost every now and then wouldn’t hurt, though.
13. Every person you have ever slept with is invited to a banquet where you are the guest of honor. No one will be in attendance except you, the collection of your former lovers, and the catering service. After the meal, you are asked to give a fifteen-minute speech to the assembly.
What do you talk about?
I’d probably talk about the catering because me and the catering service are the only fucking people there.
Oh, fuck off.
14. For reasons that cannot be explained, cats can suddenly read at a twelfth-grade level. They can’t talk and they can’t write, but they can read silently and understand the text. Many cats love this new skill, because they now have something to do all day while they lay around the house; however, a few cats become depressed, because reading forces them to realize the limitations of their existence (not to mention the utter frustration of being unable to express themselves).
This being the case, do you think the average cat would enjoy Garfield, or would cats find this cartoon to be an insulting caricature?
It would depend on the cat. I have an orange cat named Garfield, and I’m sure he would relate. I have a gray cat that would find it insulting. Cats are like people, that way.
15. You have a brain tumor. Though there is no discomfort at the moment, this tumor would unquestionably kill you in six months. However, your life can (and will) be saved by an operation; the only downside is that there will be a brutal incision to your frontal lobe. After the surgery, you will be significantly less intelligent. You will still be a fully functioning adult, but you will be less logical, you will have a terrible memory, and you will have little ability to understand complex concepts or difficult ideas. The surgery is in two weeks.
How do you spend the next fourteen days?
I’d probably keep going about as I always have been. If my life became too demanding post-surgery, suicide would be pretty easy to pull off. I’m not going to do anything before I know for certain life is not worth living, though.
16. Someone builds and optical portal that allows you to see a vision of your own life in the future (it’s essentially a crystal ball that shows a randomly selected image of what your life will be like in twenty years). You can only see into this portal for thirty seconds. When you finally peer into the crystal, you see yourself in a living room, two decades older than you are today. You are watching a Canadian football game, and you are extremely happy. You are wearing a CFL jersey. Your chair is surrounded by books and magazines that promote the Canadian Football League, and there are CFL pennants covering your walls. You are alone in the room, but you are gleefully muttering about historical moments in Canadian football history. It becomes clear that—for some unknown reason—you have become obsessed with Canadian football. And this future is static and absolute; no matter what you do, this future will happen. The optical portal is never wrong. This destiny cannot be changed.
The next day, you are flipping through television channels and randomly come across a pre-season CFL game between the Toronto Argonauts and the Saskatchewan Roughriders. Knowing your inevitable future, do you now watch it?
Absolutely. One of my biggest fears in life is that I won’t ever have that passion for anything and that guy in the crystal ball looked pretty fucking happy. You can’t turn that down.
17. You are sitting in an empty bar (in a town you’ve never before visited), drinking Bacardi with a soft-spoken acquaintance you barely know. After an hour, a third individual walks into the tavern and sits by himself, and you ask your acquaintance who the new man is. “Be careful of that guy,” you are told. “He is a man with a past.” A few minutes later, a fourth person enters the bar; he also sits alone. You ask your acquaintance who this new individual is. “Be careful of that guy, too,” he says. “He is a man with no past.”
Which of these two people do you trust less?
Why should I trust any of them more or less than the other? I was just told to avoid both of them. I’m not a trusting person to begin with, so they’re both equally fucked in that department.
18. You have won a prize. The prize has two options, and you can choose either (but not both). The first option is a year in Europe with a monthly stipend of $2,000. The second option is ten minutes on the moon.
Which option do you select?
Europe. What the fuck is on the moon that I should give even the slightest shit about?
19. Your best friend is taking a nap on the floor of your living room. Suddenly, you are faced with a bizarre existential problem: This friend is going to die unless you kick them (as hard as you can) in the rib cage. If you don’t kick them while they slumber, they will never wake up. However, you can never explain this to your friend; if you later inform them that you did this to save their life, they will also die from that. So you have to kick a sleeping friend in the ribs, and you can’t tell them why.
Since you cannot tell your friend the truth, what excuse will you fabricate to explain this (seemingly inexplicable) attack?
I was drunk and running without really thinking. This won’t excuse my behavior fully, but I’ll get him some pizza and crack a few jokes or something and eventually he’ll forgive me.
20. For whatever the reason, two unauthorized movies are made about your life. The first is an independently released documentary, primarily comprised of interviews with people who know you and bootleg footage from your actual life. Critics are describing the documentary as “brutally honest and relentlessly fair.” Meanwhile, Columbia Tri-Star has produced a big-budget biopic of your life, casting major Hollywood stars as you and all your acquaintances; though the movie is based on actual events, screenwriters have taken some liberties with the facts. Critics are split on the artistic merits of this fictionalized account, but audiences love it.
Which film would you be most interested in seeing?
Probably the biopic. While it would be cool to know how the people in my life really see me, my life isn’t all that interesting. I’d love to see how somebody could turn it into a good story. Facts be damned.
21. Imagine you could go back to the age of five and relive the rest of your life, knowing everything that you know now. You will reexperience your entire adolescence with both the cognitive ability of an adult and the memories of everything you’ve learned form having lived your life previously.
Would you lose your virginity earlier or later than you did the first time around (and by how many years)?
Well, I’m 18 now and that virginity is very much still here. I can’t say I would care either way. I know there’s a reason outside my terrible social skills as to why I haven’t slept with somebody. If I wanted it bad enough, I could. I think I just haven’t found anyone worth pursuing, yet.
So, yeah, it could go either way depending on what else I changed.
22. You work in an office. Generally, you are popular with your coworkers. However, you discover that there are currently two rumors circulating the office gossip mill, and both involve you. The first rumor is that you got drunk at the office holiday party and had sex with one of your married coworkers. This rumor is completely true, but most people don’t believe it. The second rumor is that you have been stealing hundreds of dollars of office supplies (and then selling them to cover a gambling debt). This rumor is completely false, but virtually everyone assumes it is factual.
Which of these two rumors is most troubling to you?
The second one. I hate being lied about. I figure there’s enough problems with me that you don’t have to make shit up.
23. Consider this possibility:
a. Think about deceased TV star John Ritter.
b. Now, pretend Ritter had never become famous. Pretend he was never affected by the trappings of fame, and try to imagine what his personality would have been like.
c. Now, imagine that this person—the unfamous John Ritter—is a character in a situation comedy.
d. Now, you are also a character in this sitcom, and the unfamous John Ritter character is your sitcom father.
e. However, this sitcom is actually your real life. In other words, you are living inside a sitcom: Everything about our life is a construction, featuring the unfamous John Ritter playing himself (in the role of your TV father). But this is not a sitcom. This is your real life.
How would you feel about this?
Suicidal? What the fuck kind of question is that?
I hope you enjoyed this questions and answers session.
In other news, I’m planning something. It’s not one of those projects that won’t come up either. I spent 50 bucks today for the purpose of making it happen.
Hopefully I’ll be able to show you guys a little bit more of what I’ve got in the works in a week or two.
~Ben
