This chic.

This chick told me yesterday that my writing is flawed and that my grammar needs work. I was told that "her" writing is better then mine. I don’t know how that subjective information could’ve helped me. And the best part: I was to cease writing in English all together. Apparently it’s not a language i excel at.

I think it’s a disease that I’ve caught. The ability not to engage every individual in verbal combat has been lost to me. I start of with this assumption that everybody is in it for a good conversation. It's the price of civility; you don't get to get your hands dirty.

I thought about this experiment of Pointing out every single logical error, factual error and argumentative error in her blog to point out that there is more to writing then grammar and spelling. Of course one of her points were valid, i do leave a few spelling errors behind and in writing in haste i don’t bother to correct the flow of my texts sometimes.

My point is that a grammar problem spawned from laziness can be corrected in 1-2 weeks. Logical, inductive and deductive flaws in a text are not as easily corrected. It's okay to make a lot of incorrect claims, draw incorrect conclusions and chunk it all up to "my personal opinion" in order to save oneself from critique but blasphemy if you leave out "'" marks when you write "didn’t". No no, then you’ve just gone too far.

Grammar Nazi's, like the real Nazi's are punctual, efficient but what they produce is hollow. I like arrogant and self confident people but only when it can be backed up by some real skills. Otherwise one comes of as a headless chicken, squirting blood all over the place, making a bloody mess. I’ve seen it IRL, it’s not a pretty sight (although very funny, if you are 7).

I shall make my case that through pointing out logical errors in her claims i will advocate her ceasing to write in all languages at once, for the sake of purity of logic.

"Your arrogance blinds you master Yoda. Now you will experience the full power of the Dark Side"/Darth Sidious SW EP3.

Blade runner blues.

I'm so documentary fed up. I've like watched 50 of them just this week. 80% of them about Solar system, planets and such. and as i was lying in my green bed i started thinking about rape. Not fantasizing about rape, but i thought if the sun would to get destroyed and the earth would like have 1-3 days before temperatures would plumit so low everything would freeze to death, in such a situation what would happen.

It made me feel so manly. The first thing i think about in the event of apocalyps is sex.

I imagined this scene where 3 guys were trying to rape a girl, would i save her or would i join in? I mean the world has already come to an end everyone is gonna die so there would be no legal or practical consequence to think of if i chose the latter. Its a good mental exercise.

If i would help her i would probabaly get killed or even raped myself. If i joined in i would feel sick about myself for 3 days(after that everyone, including the raped girl dies). If i didnt rape her i would feel great about myself, if i helped her and survived and did not rape her myself i would feel like a hero. But the fact that i'm preprogrammed to react in a certain way to specific emotional reactions just made me angry, which initself is a preprogrammed response. Its kind of the mental equivalent of holding two mirrors against eachother. the realization of the endless chain of emotions. and no choice is based on thought, its always based on an emotion. chasing the emotional root is like finding the last mirrow as they get smaller and smaller.

On and on i went calculating different choices. Its so fucked up that one knows the exact emotional response to every situation, almost.

I never really get/undestand rape. Japanese people are crazy about it. I never could find good porn while i was living there. All these Cloroform fake rape shit. Russians to, they raped 4 million German women when they took Berlin in WWII. It must be fucked up. So many of the women commited suicide afterwards.

I ended up chosing not to interfeer. I would just go by my bussiness, finding a good spot to sit down and philosophize about death, savoring the moment before the final blackout. I specially would want to avoid all the hysterical screaming and panic. and find some good morphine and freeze to death in the forest listening to "Blade Runner Blues".

That would be a good death.