Maybe I'm weird, but while all these people seem to struggle with old relationships and self-loathing, I simply struggle with the looming fact that I am ever so swiftly growing closer to the complete annihilation of self that is death.

They worry about who their Ex is seeing, I worry about my rational mind telling me that nothing exists (for me) after death so why bother with anything?

They try to salve their thoughts with the idea that they can improve if they work at it, while I try to desperately ignore all logical and scientific reasoning to try and have hope that there is some type of afterlife.

My 4 easy steps to losing weight:

1. Remove excess carbs
2. Drink lots of water
3. Exercise 30 minutes a day, 5 days a week
4. Realize that no matter what the fuck you do to lose weight, you are still going to die and, realistically, your weight doesn't matter as much as your overall health towards extending the date of your impending death sentence.

As a lifelong flight sim addict (with a decent bit of real world experience), there is a twisted part of my brain that wills exactly this scenario to happen whenever I'm on an airliner.

I have no doubt that I would swiftly regret this if it ever did happen and I was mad enough to volunteer.

@mxxcon Unless a qualified pilot happened to be on the plane it would likely be the senior attendant that takes responsibility yes.

I imagine there is some procedure in place, but the scenario is so massively unlikely and modern avionics so good that there would be little point in doing much if any formal training (I can't see most airlines warranting the expense).

I dare say they might be shown how to work the radio though.

I didn't even notice they were butchering the camel until I read the comments. And then I watched it again and I was horrified.

But then I thought about why I was horrified and it really has more to do with the fact that we simply don't see where our meat comes from anymore in society. If I want some turkey for Christmas dinner, I can just head to the grocery store and buy one that's ready to cook (or already cooked). I don't have to go out in the backyard and chop one's head off, bleed it, pluck it, and pull its innards out with my bare hands.

So really, the horror comes from just not seeing it happen everyday (even though I'm guessing millions of animals are butchered for food worldwide every day).

The comments in YouTube suggest this camel was being killed in a Halal fashion (which would require the butchering to be done the way we see in the video--a swift cut to the carotid artery followed by a bleeding out). Turkeys are killed in the same way, I believe (though hung upside down first before having their throat slit).

So to the people who are against this video (or are actually downvoting it) I say: humans are omnivores. It's scientific fact. Most humans eat animals and that usually means killing them first. This video shouldn't be shocking and probably the reason it is to you is that 1) you never thought to eat a camel since you grew up in a country where that wasn't common and/or 2) you've forgotten that animals actually have to be butchered before showing up on your local grocery store shelf and/or 3) you've chosen to be vegetarian (good on you) but forgotten that a large number of other people have chosen to embrace their omnivorism.

(I know omnivorism isn't an actual dictionary word but if vegetarianism can be a word, why not?)

This kind of has the feel of a right wing nightmare/fantasy, in which big government has been allowed to run rampant, and now the U.S. is like China, with the one-child policy. The swift and brutal enforcement of a police state, instead of a fine, or trial.

The kids already in the van didn't seem upset at all.

So...I go to John Lewis if I'm an old man who wants to look at little girls through a telescope?


The Man in the Moon had silver shoon
And his beard was of silver thread;
He was girt with pure gold and inaureoled
With gold about his head.
Clad in silken robe in his great white globe
He opened an ivory door
With a crystal key, and in secrecy
He stole o'er a shadowy floor;

Down a filigree stair of spidery hair
He slipped in gleaming haste,
And laughing with glee to be merry and free
He swiftly earthward raced.
He was tired of his pearls and diamond twirls;
Of his pallid minaret
Dizzy and white at its lunar height
In a world of silver set;

And adventured this peril for ruby and beryl
And emerald and sapphire,
And all lustrous gems for new diadems,
Or to blazon his pale attire.
He was lonely too with nothing to do
But to stare at the golden world,
Or to strain at the hum that would distantly come
As it gaily past him whirled;

And at plenilune in his argent moon
He had wearily longed for Fire-
Not the limpid lights of wan selenites,
But a red terrestrial pyre
With impurpurate glows of crimson and rose
And leaping orange tongue;
For great seas of blues and the passionate hues
When a dancing dawn is young;

For the meadowy ways like chrysophrase
By winding Yare and Nen.
How he longed for the mirth of the populous Earth
And the sanguine blood of men;
And coveted song and laughter long
And viands hot and wine,
Eating pearly cakes of light snowflakes
And drinking thin moonshine.

He twinkled his feet as he thought of the meat,
Of the punch and the peppery brew,
Till he tripped unaware on his slanting stair,
And fell like meteors do;
As the whickering sparks in splashing arcs
Of stars blown down like rain
From his laddery path took a foaming bath
In the ocean of Almain;

And began to think, lest he melt and stink,
What in the moon to do,
When a Yarmouth boat found him far afloat,
To the mazement of the crew
Caught in their net all shimmering wet
In a phosphorescent sheen
Of bluey whites and opal lights
And delicate liquid green

With the morning fish — 'twas his regal wish —
They packed him to Norwich town,
To get warm on gin in a Norfolk inn,
And dry his watery gown.
Though St. Peter's knell waked many a bell
In the city's ringing towers
To shout the news of his lunatic cruise
In the early morning hours,

No hearths were laid, not a breakfast made,
And no one would sell him gems;
He found ashes for fire, and his gay desire
For choruses and brave anthems
Met snores instead with all Norfolk abed,
And his round heart nearly broke,
More empty and cold than above of old,
Till he bartered his fairy cloak

With a half waked cook for a kitchen nook,
And his belt of gold for a smile,
And a priceless jewel for a bowl of gruel,
A sample cold and vile
Of the proud plum porridge of Anglian Norwich —
He arrived much too soon
For unusual guests on adventurous quests
From the Mountains of the Moon.

I'm deeply saddened that Schmawy passed away and my hope is that it was swift and painless.

He was one of the few people who seemed to make friends with everyone and keep a balanced, mellow outlook. He will be missed and remembered.

I didn't know him much in real life other than a casual facebook friend (slightly more real life than videosift), but on videosift he was a big presence and losing his voice has made the place a little colder.

Good bye, Schmawy, it was fun.

"Swiftly stupid" sounds like something I'd get if I would ever consider getting one.

Really? With this bullshit? The officer did his job in a swift and effective manner and took control of a situation that could have gone bad very quickly. The cuffs come out because they have no idea what's going to happen next. They don't know what her behavior is or what she has taken. It's for her safety, as well as theirs. Not to mention the other first responders.

So have to choose between listening to a crying baby or listening to Taylor Swift. Being a parent ain't easy

From this week's issue of The New Yorker:


Shouts & Murmurs February 16, 2015 Issue
Diary of the Left Shark
By Kelly Stout




A remarkable feat of agility was performed on Sunday night, and it had nothing to do with football. It was the sharks. . . . The dancing sharks at Katy Perry’s Super Bowl halftime show . . . danced in unison. But soon, one of the sharks, specifically Left Shark, said enough of that, and began to do his own thing frenetically on national television.

—Washington Post.

First rehearsal went great. Katy says to just call her “Katy”—very down-to-earth move. Happy to see Eric! Grateful he got me this gig, as not a lot of work out there for us sharks.

Second rehearsal O.K. Eric picking up dance moves faster than me, which is no biggie, since I’m still getting over quad injury. Still, resolving to work harder. Went for a beer afterward with dancing Blue Surfboard, named Jeremy. He’s worked with Miley Cyrus!

Eric texted wanting to know if I could use some “extra practice.” Didn’t think I needed “extra practice,” but Eric = good buddy, so I value his input. Couldn’t meet him, though, had book club.

Eric acting high and mighty in rehearsal—keeps referring to himself as “old veteran.” Feel he should turn it down a notch. Super Bowl halftime show is not a combat situation, and metaphor makes no sense.

Rehearsal rough tonight. Eric called my grasp of choreography “amateurish.” Said he did big favor by recommending me, and now worried Katy won’t hire him again. Said work must be “on a professional level” with “zero tolerance for mistakes.” I told him I was sorry to have disappointed, that my work will be “professional level” from here on out. Went to bathroom and cried into fins, but no one saw except Jeremy, who was very understanding. J says Katy makes a lot of people crazy—just ask Russell Brand! Found joke to be a little sexist—and, besides, Katy not really the problem—but appreciated support.

Katy took me aside after rehearsal. Uh-oh. But no! Said she likes seeing my extra effort! On verge of major breakthrough vis-à-vis choreography!

Happy to have long weekend off from rehearsal to regroup. Guy at brunch overheard me talking about current gig and asked if I am a real shark! Of course I’m a real shark! Tried not to be offended, but people can be so ignorant.

Back at rehearsal. Things steadily better, but sometimes feel Eric = competitive with me, since so few of us sharks in the industry. But shouldn’t that bring us closer? (Rising tide lifts all sharks!)

Big day almost here. Grandma and Mom both called to say everyone back home’s rooting for me. Pressure, but in a good way.

Eric recommended some changes to choreography today. Katy considers Eric “genius,” so took recommendations. Feel my success with old choreography hard won, so am disappointed. This time, Eric didn’t offer any “extra help.”

More dance changes today! Can’t keep up, and Eric can tell. Hate to sound paranoid, but worry that Eric’s trying to sabotage me! Going to have a glass of Shiraz to relax before practicing new moves.

Regret drinking entire bottle of wine last night. Skipped rehearsal, which I realize is not “professional level” behavior, but Eric and his “zero-tolerance policy” can suck it.

Embarrassed by last diary entry. Eric is not sabotaging me. Am letting my insecurities get in way of friendship.

NOPE. ERIC’S DEFINITELY TRYING TO SABOTAGE ME. Super Bowl is tomorrow and he changed dance moves AGAIN. Trying to make a fool of me. Unsure which makes me sadder, potential end of dance career or potential end of friendship.

Super Bowl over. Grandma and Mom called to remind me that my personal best was all they ever asked for. Am laughingstock of Internet. Gained hundreds of Twitter followers, but suspect most are “joke” follows. Katy sweet about it.

Jeremy invited me to have a beer with him and other Surfboard. Frankly, feel that other Surfboard’s kind of a blowhard, so declined.

Got voice mail from Mom this morning asking if I’m considering going back for teaching degree. Said I’m “good with kids” and not end of world that dancing didn’t work out. Ouch.

Jeremy brought over falafel last night and made me forget Super Bowl debacle with impression of Taylor Swift. Didn’t know Jeremy = T.S. fan! Promised I wouldn’t tell Katy. Not that I’ll be working with Katy again anytime soon.

Text from Eric wanting to know how I’m “holding up.” Chose not to say anything, as had nothing nice to say.

Jeremy joining book club! Silver lining of Super Bowl ordeal.

Downloaded application to Columbia Teachers College. Think I could maybe make a difference in lives of youth, plus get mind off Super Bowl. Jeremy, Mom, and Grandma all supportive. Mom asked if Jeremy just a friend or what. Her ideas re male friendship pretty “stone age,” but appreciate her interest.

Feeling O.K. about future. Dance world maybe too toxic for shark like me. Perhaps whole episode not humiliation but wake-up call! Considering move to Austin. ♦

A true pop "masterclass" would not include a discussion of Taylor Swift.

Most pop music completely passes me by. I don't listen to music on the radio or tv, so the only way I hear about new music is word of mouth or things like itunes genius and spotify discover.

So I'd never heard this song (I thought Taylor Swift was a country artist or something?).

The song itself is admittedly catchy, but I think I prefer the piano version.

I like this song too. Also like this Motown-style cover

*related=http://videosift.com/video/Postmodern-Jukebox-Shake-It-Off-Taylor-Swift-Cover

Taylor Swift - Shake it Off has been added as a related post - related requested by FlowersInHisHair on that post.

Postmodern Jukebox - Shake It Off (Taylor Swift Cover) has been added as a related post - related requested by FlowersInHisHair.