Thursday, November 21, 2013

Getting Older and Dying

I was chit chatting with Chad the other day and we were discussing the younger generation.  It seems that he is just as annoyed with them as I am.
We discussed how each generation is getting dumber and dumber, ours included.
We completely accept that we are not as intellegent or enterprising as the generation previous. 
Every generration seems to have the same complaint about the generation that follows; "These kids today!"
And it is 100% completely true.  
Some may argue that "our generation has some really smart folks who  made some incredible discoveries and advances blah blah blah" 
Yeah, but so did the generation before you and they were way more awesome than whatever you have to show.  Whatever you did to invent facebook will never be more awesome than shooting a man into space with such limited resources.
It just won't.
But this brought our conversation around to the realization of the reason that we must pass on.
If we didn't die, then we would all be killed by the previous generations who could no longer deal with our stupidity.  They would not be able to handle it and they would wipe us all out.
If I had to go 2 or 3 hundred years watching the downward spiral of intelligence that I am currently wittnessing, then yes, I too would want to save the future generations from themselves by wiping them out.
So we must die in order for the human race to continue on, whether or not that means becoming the most stupid beings of all time.  

Sunday, November 17, 2013


This is my illustration of my little "pet" I affectionately dubbed Petey.
Petey is a larva of some sort.  He is very tiny.  About half a centimeter long and only one quarter centimeter wide.  He is black and fuzzy and will probably change into a moth at some point.

These are the things that were going through my mind when I first noticed Petey at the beginning-ish of October when I was on the toilet one morning and noticed him in the crack where the wall meets the floor beneath the towel rack.  At first I thought he was dead.  Then, when I noticed he was moving, I was going to kill him.  I decided not to.  He wasn't bothering me and moths don't really bother me all that much so, whatever.  Keep on, keeping on, Petey.

Now my month of October and the first week of November have been of nightmarish quality in my personal life.  Anything that could go wrong, did.  My body was not taking the stress too well either.  So when I went to the bathroom the next day after seeing Petey for the first time, I noticed he had gone about and inch and a half across the floor.

The next day about the same.  In two days of travel, Petey had gone a whole of three inches, if that.  I thought to myself that no matter what I was going through, it was not as difficult as this little larva guy who had just travelled for 48 hours and moved a whole 3 inches.

Every morning as I sat on the throne I would track Petey's progress.  He was my inspiration to keep going.  Upon leaving the bathroom each day, I would say "Get it, Petey!"
Not just for his benefit, but my own as well.

After about a month, Petey had made it all the way around the corner and almost reached the end of the full length of the tub.  Petey had travelled almost a whole 3 feet!!  What he was eating or what was driving him or even where he was going, I cannont say.  He just kept on keeping on.

The day before yesterday, Friday November 15th, 2013,  I did not see Petey.  He had a habit of getting the bath mat tossed on top of him.  Not this day.  I looked and looked and could not find Petey anywhere.  Hmm.  Perhaps he has gotten to where ever he needed to be for the next stage of his life.  I was a little sad.
I didn't give it much more thought assuming he would appear again the next day.

Yesterday I went to the bathroom in the morning, as is my custom, and what did I see?
A ginormous spider in the corner by the tub!
"Where the hell did THAT come from??"  I thought.
Upon closer inspection, he was eating Petey!!!
I was angry.
Very angry.  Stupid spider.
I scooped him up with Petey still paralyzed in his clutches and flushed the bastard down the toilet.

So there you have it.  Nothing is as bad as poor Petey travelling for almost 6 weeks to go 3 feet and then getting eaten by a fucking spider.

I drew this picture of him last night as a memorial card to remind me that I don't really have it all that bad.

RIP, Petey.