Hark, Facets

Psychology is, in many ways, a very dynamic field.  As our understanding of the brain is augmented, honed, we discover, daily, that many of our fundamental notions of it are completely unreliable, and that very alien concepts and tendencies may be the law of the land, so to speak.

The most celebrated researcher into the machinations of the human mind needs as much introduction as Einstein in the height of his popularity.  He is a household name, this Dr. Mathieu Strawson.  His theories have revolutionized the field, and their impacts have been wide-ranging ever since they were first published, in April of 1993.  There is not a household in the developed nations which has not benefited from his ideas, which gave us better treatment, bordering on cures for all manners of psychopathic illness and memory disorder.

The following is an excerpt from the journal of Dr. Strawson, dated May 16th, 2004.

Things You Shouldn't Put Syrup On

Syrup.  Ambrosial nectar of the gods on high.  Just saying the name makes my mouth water.

Kids know what's up with syrup.  Pancakes?  Waffles?  Pah.  They are but vessels for the glory of the sauce.  To call them a foodstuff is like calling the Popemobile the infallible mouth of God.

And yet, just as the Pope does not belong in certain situations,* syrup need not grace all substances with its sacred sweetness.  What follows, beyond the mysterious "read more" link, is a short list of just a few of these things.

Day: Final

I am... of no consequence. Just another man. I lay alone, staring at the ceiling, reflecting. Has it really been almost three years now? Three years since they arrived. The invaders, the huskers. Bitter, heartless beings bent on nothing but death and destruction. Ripping out the chests of innocents, crawling into their mangled remains, distorting, warping, horrendous. Forcing the dead to move about like horrible, stringless marionettes. How many of us are left? I can't say. Weeks, months, not a soul have I encountered. Alone in a world bent on my destruction. They gnaw at my sanity, the wheezes and howls that echo down these empty roads. I have to make it stop. I will make it stop.

I drag myself off of my dilapidated mattress. Not that I had been sleeping. Not for weeks, years, centuries. Who knows. I examine my surroundings, a small suburban home; Boarded up and slowly rotting away. Unpleasant but familiar, hiding me away from them like a worthless coward. No more. Months of planning, searching. Building after building, scraped clean of all weapons and volatile substances. All in preparation for this day. Armageddon. Every crevice crammed with weaponry. Oven, sink, fridge, packed to the brim with explosives. I am ready.

What To Do When You've Burnt Your Tongue

So, you've burnt your tongue.  Maybe you ate some microwaved product too fast.  Maybe you were walking on a bed of coals and you fell, but your hands were tied, so all you could do was fling out your tongue with wild abandon in hopes of protecting the rest of your body.  Maybe you were attacked by one of the infamous Sense Death biker gang, whose modus operandi is the crippling of the senses of those who offend them.

Maybe you just didn't want the bees to sting your tongue.  Completely reasonable!

None of this matters.  In the end, your tongue is burnt, and you've no idea what to do.  Wonder no more, dear readers.  I am here to solve all of your problems.  You're welcome.

Fire: Pretty Useful

Recent scientific experimentation has led to the discovery, and subsequent understanding, of fire. A volatile and destructive element with the potential to level cities and vapourize forests. You may think that something so powerful should be destroyed, but you would be mistaken. Fire has infinite practical applications that could bring our glorious society into a golden age of prosperity.

First off, and most importantly, it makes everything awesome. Are you having trouble courting the members of the fairer sex with your considerable skills in the art of fencing? Set your foil ablaze, good sir! The ladies will have no choice but to accept your marriage proposals!

This man is fending off all the ladies who want him.

I'm So Busy #1, Or, I Review Our Magnificent Bastard Tongue

Okay, you guys, I am really busy.  I have not been able to write anything for the blog due to a high concentration of homework this weekend/week.  So what I'm going to do is show you my hastily, sloppily composed essays which are detracting from my posts here.  Dare I say that they are rather...  Slapdash???

Essay #1:  A Book Review of Our Magnificent Bastard Tongue

Klïp Klöp

Klip Klop, Klip Klop;
Outta my way can't stop!
Ridin' my steed down the dusty trail;
Droppin' weak ass bitches without fail!
Masters of battle, elegant as fuck all;
Cavalry's 'ere, no time to stall!
This shit ain't 'bout no punk as lil' ponies;
I be reppin' for the beastly equine beauties!
I hear all y'all be sayin' "horses be whack!";
But I'd like to see ya go 88 with a midget on yo' back!
Step off motorists, why you gots to be hatin;
Internal combustion just be weak ass emulatin'!
Features ain't nothin', Bluetooth an' GPS, no threat;
I'm a mother fuckin' cowboy, only direction is sunset!
Camels 'n' mules, whatever, just plain hacks;
Ain't never seen a llama on these here tracks!
Nothin' can match up, kings among playas;
Takin' down QB's in the motherfuckin' himalayas!
Slayin' dragons, conquerin' nations, no prob';
They'll drop you down an' make you sob!

Peace, motherfuckers.