Chris Dahler sent me many of his thoughts throughout the year in '04. Here are some of his crazy mind slices, which are sure to be updated - 08.29.07 11.24.04 Bittles and Nibblets Speaking of spectacular masturbation; I saw this nature show once about Killer Whales. They were rubbing themselves against the ocean floor. This area of sediment, apparently, was covered in a very particular type of stone that the whales seemed to like more than most other floors of the ocean. Now, I'm no expert on rocks, the ocean, kitchen appliances, whales, or even floors but your words do in fact seem to have conjured images in my brains of swollen whale dongs writhing in the deep ocean currents. Why does my being any kind of expert have anything to do with this? That's a good question. Why do all my sex stories start with, "I saw this nature show?". Yet another unsettling question! --- 11.24.04 Sack of Beans It is SO loud in my head when I eat corn chips. It never sounds that loud when other people eat them. I thought it had something to do with the way I've been chewing lately. Then I stopped for a second and realized what a stupid idea that was. I mean, I've never ever really been in another person's mind, so how do I know what it's like for them? As it turns out the imagination' comes in handy for problems like this. Picture this: You are standing in the middle of a vast corn field which you can see stretches all the way to the horizon. I guess it must be winter or something, otherwise it would be hard to see through all that corn. So, maybe just a big empty field then. Anyway, there's soup. Tons of soup. Imagine a single bowl of soup for each person on our planet. Bowls of soup, on the ground, all the way to the horizon, which is way far out there as usual. Each bowl has a tiny unopened package of crackers placed neatly beside it. There is some kind of red print on the plastic cracker wrapper, but you can't read it on account of your bad moose eyes. Oh yea; also, you are a moose. A tall handsome moose with soft fur that is a very majestic shade of brown. You look down at your feet; the front ones. Don't look back there. There is a bowl of soup and crackers on the ground in front of you. You feel an urge to put your crackers inside your soup. Being a moose, you just kind of go with the urges more or less. Here's where it gets ugly. You can't seem to get the crackers out. After lots of thrashing about with the antlers, the hooves, and the big yellowish moose teeth, you look around at the other soups. You see that all the other bowls now have crackers in them. The crackers are giggling quietly at you, except the ones close by, since you stepped on most of them with your clumsy moose feet. Why oh why couldn't you get your crackers in? I'll tell you why: No thumbs. What a dirty evolutionary trick. So, when you look at it that way, it's easy to see that the only reasonable explanation for all that noisy mastication is that I'm basically some kind of genetic mutant with a missing enzyme. Damn rare genetically recessive gland disorders. --- 11.23.04 How much do it costed? I don't know if this means anything or not, but every time I look at the sky today I see an area in the clouds that looks more greenish than grey and in the general shape of an alien starship. Which is, of course, to say that it actually IS an alien spaceship that is cloaked in our lower atmosphere following me all the way up Inter-State 77 (the clouds help them evade detection). I'm not sure what they're waiting for. They must know by now that I'm on to them, but they just use that brain-ray on me anyway so what difference does it make? They are probably going to be monitoring this frequency so speak in code when referring to "the Project.' I'm keeping my twig wrapped in aluminum foil, just in case. I'd do the same if I was you. Connections can be traced, and I'm sure the coded message in the image will not remain a mystery for long. They are as smart as they are bulbous and slimy. The trick is to do everything in "Threes." Like, if you go to take a piss, pinch it off the first and second time you go. This simple, yet inefficient pattern seems to confuse their targeting AI. You have to plan every move hours ahead, the commute to work is especially challenging since the 3rd time leaves you at home. It requires some sixth dimensional math, and about 1.5lbs of spicy Italian sausage, but it can be done. It's a lot of trouble, but I know it's all been worth it when, at the end of the day, I have not felt the sting of alien meat-probes crawling through my veins like a bulldozer on a waterslide. --- 11.19.04 Thoughts on Albino Slugs There is no way humans can breed with any alien species. As a person who doesn't eat mammals, it's tough to order food that is centered around ham. The human brain is a veritable dynamo, capable of outputting lots of good demon food, and they want it. It comes with stainless steel backing and partial floral laced leather strap. This is designed to maximize the amount of extracted contaminants as quickly as possible. The junk flies off simultaneously in the four diagonal directions. --- 11.18.04 Wait and thicken During movies, a friend of mine forever found turning to me and saying cryptic things like, "The plot thickens." What is that? Is there some kind of special starch for thickening plot, or do they usually just cook off the excess moisture with thermal vaporators? --- 11.17.04 Saving Lives Through Evacuation I am nervous to ask since never having doing this befores. Also, I'm thinking now maybe of mating with the cat the in the warehouse here sometimes. If you please, what is the best correct to doing arousing a female house cat in preparation before intercourse? Or is there many some tricks that work better on certain cats more than others, and I may need to experiment with many many for her ALOT? Thanks for you time. --- 11.11.04 Folding Brain Nuggets I heard on the radio this morning that there's this hole in the ozone layer' over the artic. Have you heard about this? Crazy... They say it has something to do with greenhouses. I guess there really is some truth to all those stories about people in glass houses getting stoned. Personally, I think it's just the atmosphere dilating in preparation to give birth to some kind of multi-dimensional asteroid, but hey, I also thought the Pet Rock was going to solve the world's energy crisis. I guess I'm only human after all. --- 11.06.04 I Feel Pretty, and Witty, and Gay I don't believe this fucking bullshit. I left my desk for about 5 minutes, and when I came back I found a fly swimming in my Bill O'Riley coffee mug and another one my glass of water. What kind of Communist horse crap is this? Did I mention my alien infestation? Yea, well they got in my body while I was sleeping, sometime around in the middle of July I think. They haven't been much of a problem up til now, but somehow they've managed to rig my pee-hole to sing show tunes. Well, I've had it now. Gota smoke 'em out. Fucking commie aliens. I'll get those little bastards if I have to dig 'em out of my chest with my bare hands. --- 11.05.04 Twist Interlude When I look at the stars I always get gravitational anxiety. I've always held a sneaking suspicion that I'm not here, but floating somewhere in space like a cork in a vast dark ocean. At night I'm convinced that I will drip off the tip of the planet and drizzle slowly downward beyond the clouds. I can actually FEEL my body getting lighter as the sun gets lower. I refuse to sky dive after sunset, because I KNOW I'll fall the wrong way. Ever since I got my special pants I feel much better. I still won't look in a microscope though. Telescopes are much safer because they pull all the energy in the universe down to Earth. It's like balancing a mountain on a pinhead. Microscopes, on the other hand, have all that atomic energy pushing out. Screw that, man. --- 05.04.04 Intellectual Property - How to Rape a Blast Furnace with a Toothpick and a Belch I've been thinking more and more about this issue lately and what it means. I've been working on something like a solution, but I don't know how my fact hurts in the winter with the blasting furnace of nuclear heat searing the flesh from my bones in ragged little char-boiled bits of stinky black meat. Aren't we all sinners? --- 03.08.04 I am Iam (and that's all that I am (but not all I can be)) Iam was cliff walking down the vertical path; A riotous path; A path with no leaders and no followers but a single rat wincing pulse of man-mangled fury panicking in a screaming lonely and beautiful agony, always falling, never striking. He was a man with no name, but of all names. Ambiguous, eternal, and creative like the holy spirit of men.