The Big Issues - ray martin

My readers, let me introduce you to ray martin. ray is a man on channel 9 tv in Australia, he shows up at any tragedy and exploits it for television ratings. I'm sure you all have like minded individuals in your countries. Little ray is our most ruthless, he manipulates the public into thinking he is doing it for them, if the people are not willing to tell their story, he offers them money, a lot of fucking money, I don't know about you, but that wreaks of payoff to me, it even borders on bribe.
ray's latest victim is Terri Irwin, Steve's wife. Yes we know she is greaving, do we have to witness ray milk it for all it's worth. We know she wouldn't have taken any money for her interview, not like those unfortunate idiots that got stuck down a mine and saw dollar signs.
I don't need to see people break down on tv to know that they are hurting, ray you little cunt, give these people back their dignity, have you no shame?
Sadly another Australian is boadering on martinism, Denton, step back and look at yourself before it's too late.
We as a planet know of the big issues, we don't need the same issues flashed in front of us a million times. THINK ABOUT IT. How many times have you seen the world trade center fall? 50 times is a reminder to never forget, 100,000,000 is just to boost those fucking ratings. The only thing worse than the level ray sinks to is those damn quiz shows on late at night. PLEASE TAKE THOSE FUCKERS OFF AND KILL THEM.

I was listening to an old cd of mine today, I've not put it on in years, and wouldn't you know it, I come across a song I used to sing along to. And as I was singing I couldn't help noticing how familiar the tune was, and then it hit me, the bloody osama medley, there's another song paul has destroyed for me :P

Life is like a house of cards. You just get all the cards perfect and then the wind comes along and blows it all away.

Too Heavy

The weight of inanimate objects never changes, merely our perception of them.
This statement is obviously true yet it begs the question, why is it that sometimes objects are perceivably heavier than other times? Occasionally the weight of the world seems to drag down your very being. Do objects appear heavier when you are tired? Of course they do because you are not at full strength. Objects also feel heavier when you are depressed. It is odd that emotions can twist perceptions, it’s almost as if depression is weighing you down. Does this mean that when you are happy everything is lighter, literally suspended by the height of your happiness? But this is not the case.
Logic suggests that weight remains the same; it also suggests that the earths gravitational pull on the moon effects the weight of objects on the earth. When you weigh yourself directly under a full moon you will weigh less. Based on this fact above, this is logical, but it’s still hard to comprehend.
Why is it that our perceptions of weight change with our moods? How can object feel heavier when it weighs exactly the same? Think of atlas with the weight of the world on his shoulders, does the weight ever vary? It cannot, otherwise sooner or later he would have to drop it. Yes this is only mythology, but logically speaking it still shows obvious facts.
Weigh the facts out, objects weigh the same all the time and occasionally they vary, just as occasionally our perception of their weight varies.
Nietzsche says there are no absolute truths; perhaps he is right, everything is just perceived speculation.

Why put off until tomorrow what you can do today?



...Because I can't be fucked.

News today

ANZ shares rose .28,

Aboriginal elders are molesting the youth,

And Steve Irwin is still dead.

Life is beautiful

Paint me a picture of an overcast day. Make the sun break the clouds on occasion, streaming rays of sunlight like a patchwork quilt. Have the trees in the foreground be willows, lush and green, and the grass around them unkept. have a field in the distance fenced off from the world, with yellow strawlike grass waving free in the wind. Put a horse in the field of the purest black with the deepest coal eyes you could make. Paint it untamed and wild free in the world but still locked behind a fence. Place a child between the horse and the trees, expressionless but still visably sad, where the child is looking is your discression. It is a female child, her hair long and blowing gently in the wind, she's wearing a plain blue dress with an off-white apron and brown non-discript shoes...

Do you see it in your mind?

Now discribe it to me,
everything you see,
but not how I told it to you.



Yes, life is beautiful.