Dicit Dominus Deus: On the Virtue of Wickedness and Depravity
Being very drunk is like eating acid or psychedelic mushrooms, but much less illuminating. Some readers may not have had the firsthand knowledge necessary to immediately apprehend the truth of this. Readers who do not know: please take my word for it right now, and if you really must learn the good, old-fashioned way, please be sure to schedule an appropriate amount of time required to perform the necessary experiments. But we can all agree that many more people are drinking to excess right now than are experiencing psychedelic rapture. We can readily see the effects of this all throughout society. For example, in several days, it will be the Day After Thanksgiving Sale, so-called “Black Friday” because of a complex sex-magick ritual that is very much en-vogue in the upper echelons of the Satanic Cult that attempts to control society (in addition to the moon). I’m not going to tell you about it, because it’s really gross. But more to the point: people are going to die on “Black Friday”, like they do every year. The dark Lord demands it.
But alas, life is not like it is in the fairy-tales, wherein whichever dark Lord is easily appeased with a few virgins on a quarterly system, when profit/loss statements are due. In the fairy-tales, the virgins are unwilling sacrifices that really ought to remain in the gene pool, and marry goodlooking heterosexuals (preferably blue-eyed blonds) and spin straw or whatever. But with the people who die underfoot in Wal-Mart’s, and teeth lost between mothers over cheap, expensive toys, these real live virgins step willingly onto the altar. We offer up our kidneys in service to the Combo with Choice of drink. We offer our hearts and those of our children to that heavenly choir of fake hamster pets, to all the dolls and action figures that instill unfortunate but crucial flaws in the psyche of our young, and to the plastic that makes all this possible. Hosanna to the living MasterCard! It’s easy to get all sensitive and liberal about people dying. But good people: there’s no shame, only glory, in martyrdom. Think about all those people in Peshawar, blowing themselves up just for the chance to have stuff (like virgins) in heaven. We don’t have to go to heaven for stuff, we can get it at the store. And some of us who go to the store this Friday may also go to heaven. How glorious! That voice from above is calling you. Answer the call. Go, then, even unto the aisle 7, and take the sacrament of lil’smokies offered by that cute little old high priestess of low prices, and shop. Then go out from the temple into the city, and go amongst the people, and tell them what you have heard in the temple, that it is good. Then return to the temple and prostrate yourself before the altar, and when you are asked, choose plastic. There is no Wal-Mart but Wal-Mart!
Doubtless some have noticed by this point that I have included paragraph structure in this post. It is no accident. But the meaning behind it must be puzzled out on the level of the individual. Speak to no one about this, for I have written secrets here. Do not discuss with your peers. To do so would be to risk angering the marketing department, and maybe the board of directors. Heads will fucking roll. And while you’re trying to do your Xmas shopping, just remember why you’re here, and what’s important. The reason for the season, if you will. You are to consume with extreme prejudice, my virgins. And never forget that the highest purpose humanity has is to privilege objects over human beings. This is important, dammit! Now go forth, and MULTIPLY YOUR SAVINGS!!!
Ideas for Party Activities
The other day at my birthday gathering, my friends and I brainstormed fun activities to engage in during a party or get-together:
- Invent amusing names – such as “Ivan Goodfuk”
- Make up your own games – such as Spin-The-Bottle Except with Fucking, Fuck the Bottle, or Let the Bottle Fuck You
- Crafts – Homemade Anal Beads. Some ideas: avocado pits, frozen cherries, and blueberries – that way, when getting a rim job, your ass tastes like blueberries (okay, and maybe poop)
- Fur Pie – obviously, this is self-explanatory.
- Scissoring is also acceptable.
Have a good party!
Public Apology: Donna Potts
Dear Professor Potts,
I’m sorry I called you a “huge dork” on November 3, when I saw you on that big red bicycle.
It was the second time I had seen you with that monster bike – which I have privately dubbed the “killer tomato.” The first time had been a week or so prior; you were going up the incline right outside the long Hale Library entrance, towards the English/Counselling Services building. At the time, I was in that very Hale entrance, enjoying some premium tobacco product, and so happened to see you. Your feet were pedalling much faster than seemed suitable for the speed of the bike, up that incline, and you had to practically sprawl to reach your handlebars. It gave the impression of a puppy trying to climb onto a kitchen countertop. I wished one of my friends was there to see it with me (forgetting for the moment that I don’t have any friends). Also, I couldn’t get to my camera in time.
Upper-middle class hippies to flout moral superiority
Turn off your iPod and ditch the half-full Starbucks iced venti mocha. This week, the Union Courtyard offers you an exciting opportunity to save the world.
Students and visitors on campus this week can purchase goods from around the world that promote fair trade. The Fair Trade Marketplace will be held in the Courtyard Wednesday and Thursday from 10 a.m. to 6 p.m. The marketplace is part of International Education Week.
Nathan Retta, senior in chemical engineering and member of K-State’s Fair Trade Advocates, said this was a good opportunity to bring awareness about people’s consumption, and to promote selling of more fair trade products.
When you enter the union head downstairs, you shall be accosted by a bisexual sophomore wearing a shawl and Keds. She’ll get all indignant when she finds out your trail mix isn’t truly organic or some such shit.
Fair Trade ensures farmers in Third World countries are paid a fair wage to sustain and better themselves and their communities. Some products featured at this year’s marketplace include coffee, tea and chocolate. The products featured come from all over the world from countries like Kenya and Guatemala.
I hate chocolate and I hate coffee and come on: tea? Lets sweeten the pot with some Korean electronics and Russian warheads and let market forces work everything out and hopefully someone’s around with an iPhone to videotape the explosion party that will surely unite all cultures in an apocalyptic rainbow handshake of fair trade. That is all.
K-State electrical lines to receive an upgrade
Local suicide squirrels to adopt new tactics in bid to return society to state of nature
The wires that ferry power to most campus buildings will soon be replaced so they can deliver power more efficiently to said buildings. Ideally, the enhancements will reduce the risk of electrical outages around campus. Local squirrels, proud of their rich and colourful history at the centre of many such incidents will not take these changes lying down. The Hour Badly Spent caught up with the bushy-tailed masterminds behind most of these devastating attacks for some additional perspective on the matter.
Everybody has a share!
Rejoice! Be happy! Business is booming! Overpriced Corporate Product is still selling despite all your griping! And what’s good for business is Good. For. You. Trust Chuck Fischer on this!
Capitalism is alive and well in Manhattan. Just this past week, the Collegian has printed two articles on local businesses expanding their services to new locales.
Kite’s Grille and Bar just opened up a new banquet hall for private events, and Radina’s Coffeehouse & Bakery now has another location with a drive-thru to boot.
Music is for groovin
Last Thursday at the Kathouse’s “Ska vs Pop vs The Funk” was absolutely the first time I have felt like dancing since I was in my younger 20s and even then I didn’t have anyone to dance with but whatever, fuck you all, it was ska and those well-dressed trumpeteers were archetypal music douches and their sound seriously took me back to when I was 20 and felt like 16 and ska had been popular for about 10 minutes and I couldn’t listen to it without getting up and doing some sort of dizzy-dino fast-paced bodily flailing so here is a picture of The Ruckus, sexing up their brass instruments with energy and grace.
It’s happened to me ten thousand times: I post something on a friend’s wall, something misogynistic, homophobic, racist, antipapal, parliamentarian, unparliamentarian, unchristian, logocentric, slavophobic, anti-semitic, antidisestablishmentarianistic, anti-Big 12, anti-alcoholic, anglophobic, or, in short, just plain truthful and because my Facebook friends’ senses of humour are so far below mine, I have to write some sort of sort of column inquiring as to why people still use Facebook when there’s sooo much beauty elsewhere in the world. Which is why I identify so closely with Tim Schrag.
In recent months, I have come under fire for my use of Facebook.com profile, though the items posted and written have been neither libelous nor obscene, but perhaps merely catty. In spite of some people’s opinions, Facebook is just like everything else on the Internet and should be protected by the beloved First Amendment.
Tim Schrag’s sarcasm is above your head. Laugh off his quote-unquote offensive Facebook posts, like you’re supposed to. If you can’t handle it, de-friend him (but do it ironically or something). But, by all that is sweet and holy under heaven, please don’t let him turn Facebook into a free-speech issue.
Friends in “high” places. Ha ha get it?
Okay fine if YOU think you can come up with a better headline then email me. Nonetheless, if there’s one point upon which we can all agree, it’s that everybody else sucks. By “everybody else” of course I mean all you bleary-eyed slackers, drifting through college life like after-hours convenience store drunks, hardly knowing what brought you here in the first place yet still constantly demanding stimulation and answers (and I know you’re reading because who else do I hang out with?). To you, life is nothing but an endless display of colourful yummies. And as you haunt the campus, you just make life harder for the studious and diligent around you. And it’s frankly bringing Delores Pearsall down.
In college, I find we are lacking motivation in our coursework and school in general. Maybe you should ask yourself, “How many classes did I miss this week, because I felt like sleeping in?” Why aren’t we more motivated to accomplish the task at hand?
I have a few answers to these questions. Many students do not make it to class because they would rather sleep in after a late night of partying and take college as a joke. While other students become lazy in college without the motivation or the push from parents to do well in school like we had in high school. But there are also those who are simply unprepared for class.
Personally speaking, I have friends who are unmotivated to make it to class because they spend their nights partying in Aggieville. They don’t do their homework, rarely go to class and are clueless about the material when they finally do go to class for exams.
Why are some students so unmotivated? Well, with all the modern-day distractions like Facebook.com and video games, as well as the classic pastime of partying, students would rather let themselves procrastonate than spend a few hours sitting in front of a book and reading a few chapters of chemistry.
Imagine that! Thanks a lot, mom. So in summary, (1) Facebook shmacebook; get a life. No wait, don’t do that – that also unproductive! (2) Your friends are not as good to keep close to you as your professors are. (3) defeating the Four Fiends will destroy civilization, not save it, and (4) it sorta goes without saying from the article, but do under any circumstances not waste time with lengthy sexual encounters. There is urgent work to be done. Ha ha, “chemistry.”
Nooner!
This photo features Shannon Curtis, crooning out jazzy songs of love and heartbreak in the Union right this very second as part of their “Lunchtime Lounge” thingie.
The sound of music
Latha Venkatesh’s fingers, though frantic, were always careful. Venkatesh herself huddled over her musical instrument, the veena, as though listening closely to every sound coming out of it. As though the veena was continually on the verge of telling her something.
This was all at a carnatic instrumental concert which took place Sunday afternoon in the Union’s Little Theatre. Named “sur dhwani” (“the sound of music”) and sponsored by K-State’s Society for the Appreciation of Bhayativa Heritage and Arts, the concert featured Venkatesh as well as a mrindagam-player named Shiva.
Le Rouge et Le Noir
The singer was Breanna Stewart, a freshman in vocal performance. The song was “Superwoman.” The place was Bosco Plaza. The date was October 30. The weather was bad. The event was Be Bold Be Red, part of a national campaign to raise awareness of and oppose violence against women of colour.
Does anybody have any information on this show-stealing ginger, passing out flyers that were as bold and red as his coat? Feel free to use the comments to speculate boldly as to his identity.
The groups involved were Ordinary Women and Zeta Phi Beta, whose sorors were out in memory of Alheli Alcantara. Via Nobody’s Writing:
Alheli Alcantara’s body was found outside the Quality Inn on East Poyntz Ave. in Manhattan, Kansas Sunday. Her co-worker at Burger King, Deon Ross, has been charged in her kidnapping, rape, and murder.
[Update from the comments: “Also — members from United Multicultural Women, W.A.R., Besos/Besitos, and BSU were involved with this event.” – thanks Bonerkiller!]
Fine poetry IV
Look, whatever. I was waaay too drunk to remember anything from Auntie Mae’s Mighty Fine Poetry Night IV. What did you expect? Blogging <> homework. I did take some notes though. Let’s see what I’ve got here.
- Arrived late and was stuck alone at a table in the back where I couldn’t see anything. That’s what I get. Blake was just starting to read, so I skedaddled up front and took a photo.
- Chelsea Imers (?) read her “Humble Bumblebee” poem. It was “interrogative and inquisitive", I wrote.
- Then someone read a poem titled “To Whom It May Concern,” which was a letter announcing her resignation as an adult and affirming the happy simplicity of yesteryears. Best line: “I want love to be something felt with happiness, not sought after with distress.” Right? Nevertheless, Christ, what a downer. And what a great childhood! Though I can’t remember six years old being that much fun.
- Then Lauren Someone read “so you want to be a writer” by Charles Bukowski. I couldn’t tell whether this poem was facetious.
- Then, something called “Hell on Earth,” about war. Wtf is with people tonight? I arrived late expecting to catch the party in full swing. Instead, I’m hearing lines like “I’ve just been captured and am now a prisoner of war.”
- Then Adam read a poem about the conversations he has with people who, in casual conversation, find out he’s majoring in theatre. “I could use my training to act…like I gave a shit what you thought about my major.”
- Jimbo read a mosaic called “66506.” It had five parts. Jimbo lately looks like he drives a Harley. And that folksy twang he’s been affecting lately doesn’t help. OR DOES IT???
Anyway, here’s a picture of Blake and another one of Donna Potts, because why not. Enjoy your week!
The week we came into some free time
- We came to terms with our insomnia. Some of us had more trouble with this than others.
- We wondered how you found us.
- We resolved never to break our diet.
- We read the Collegian. At least twice.
No thanks to that preposterous bacon post, there were bunches of comments this week! Thank you, all! The comment of the week, however, goes to Tim Hadachek, after a post in which I voiced agreement with and support for his point of view:
- “ I feel like this is some sort of trap.”
I know, right? Was I serious? Was I kidding? Was I drunk? Who am I, really? And on to a more serious point for speculation: has anyone seen “robertlowelldunn” around lately? Aside from that, if anyone’s got any comments or suggestions or questions or wants to give me a piece of your mind, feel free.
Resting on his laureates
To be perfectly honest I don’t really do the whole poetry thing. Sure, once in a while I’ll get schwasted on Everclear and burp out a couple of fragments that are evocative or loaded with imagery but I mean, that hardly counts, right? Nevertheless, the few pieces I have written would not exist if not for Jonathan Holden. I know his intro poetry writing class is considered an “easy A” but the truth is he provides a lot of helpful information for those in his class who are serious about developing their writing, and he brings a cheerful, supportive attitude to the class discussion, and what that does is it quells the new writers’ panic over having their work ripped apart by an imaginary panel of experts. His class is sort of a gentle coaxing into the art form. Anyway, whatever. I owe him heaps of thanks. One day this week I stopped by his office to do give him just that. And there he was, deep in concentration while scrutinizing what was clearly an important missive. I knocked, gingerly. Then I heard light snoring. Then this happened:
Immediately regretful, I textmessaged an authoritative peer in search of…forgiveness? Redemption?
Btw i just stepped into holden’s office and he was asleep but in a way that made it look like he was reading something important so i took a pic. I am so wrong. Plz don’t hate me.
I couldn’t stay and camp out. I had miles to go.
Brave new world
It used to be a simple time-wasting alternative to watching TV: show off your awesome by blasting your crush with insanely witty wall posts. Those days have long been over – nobody can just use Facebook for fun ever again; your profile’s basically gotta look like a screen capture from careerbuilder.com. On the bright side, one day you’ll be in a job interview, wearing the hell out of your chinos and your oxford and maybe a simple two-colour stripe tie that adds personality to your outfit, and the boss will be all “Where did you go to school?” and you can go “Facebook University. Let me show you my F.U. credentials.” And then I guess you can go get drunk on blush or something, I don’t care; just don’t drag me into it. I really need that job.
Site metrics, November 5
Way back in April I spent about four hours and 1,800 words blasting Star Parker and yet this “star parker is full of shit” google query is probably the first time anyone’s read that post. Meanwhile, for god knows what reason, “viennese oyster” (nsfw!) gets me several hits on a daily basis. What can I say? Thanks for reading, and alternately sorry if this site wasn’t quite what you had in mind when you googled “proper usage and care of the phallus” or whatever. Also, just for visitors who are new to The Hour Badly Spent: “ITALIAN METHOD” “KOBE TAI” “UPSKIRT.” You’re welcome, internet.
Everything old should just stay that way
Ever since I myself became an olde – which was a loooong time ago – I have been bored to death by the mindless geezerey tirades against all youth because their facebooking will abort the Islamosocialist apocalypse all over your illegal immigrants. Hobbies are just that: hobbies. Sort of like how kids in the 50s collected baseball cards and smoked Pall Malls and what exactly was wrong with that? I’d say more about it, but Tim Hadachek said it better here, there, and since it’s on the web, pretty much everywhere.
In which we realize we’d rather do something else Friday nights
Parties are so over. You’d normally think of them as just some deal where your parents are going out of town so you decide to have a friends over and you send McLovin out to score some booze. Not any more! Now they take “planning,” which sounds suspiciously like “work.” And as we all know, work just leads to poorly-timed firings. Some party, eh?
- “For students living in a house or apartment, a “formal night” can be a fun way to find an excuse to dress up and eat a delicious meal. The idea is simple: Invite a few friends, ask everyone to chip in a few dollars, cook a delectable dinner and make formal clothes a requirement. For the over-21 crowd, adding some fancy cocktails or simply using plastic cocktail or wine glasses for some well-loved Natural Light beer can help contribute to a classy atmosphere.” Why stop there? Why not invite your parents over too?
- Have a theme! My fun suggestions: togas, Communism, prom, or divorce.
- “A party theme that rarely gets old with college students is a classic dance party, especially with a good disc jockey. Dave Powers, junior in elementary education, has been playing host at dance parties for a little over a year and said they are always a lot of fun.
“Powers and his friend Ernie Straub, senior in construction science, act as DJs while their friend John Churchill, senior in music composition, provides the house. Powers goes by his DJ name, ironKIDZbread while Straub uses the name EIV.” When I’m at parties I also make sure people only refer to me by my screen name, “BlacksOnBlondes.”
Anyway, I guess the whole point of this is suck it Ella House, the whole “lets strategically place some bisexual hipsters under the strobe light and see what happens” is simply not enough. You need deejays and you need this guy to show up and you need to do this like now but please waive my cover this one time. You know I’m good for it.
Clothing purchases continue to incite existential angst
The poors can’t just run around naked, brandishing their tattoos and the scars they got from those hazy “prisoner of war” days. It’s simply unseemly. Moreover, without enough cash on hand to get the name-brand stuff that flaunts their successful assimilation, what should they do? Keep shopping, that’s what. Fall catalogues have been available for some time, after all. Some helpful advice:
- “Some say spending more money on a purchase for a better-quality piece is worth the price.” Thank you!
- “According to TheBudgetFashionista.com, people should look at every purchase with the “cost per wear” theory in mind. For every item that they consider buying, shoppers should divide the estimated amount of times they will wear the item by the price they are going to pay for it. The Web site gives the example of a $500 Burberry trench coat: The buyer planned to wear it 72 times in a year (three times per week for six months). She decided she would probably keep the coat for about five years, making the cost per wear $1.38. This cost, according to the Web site, makes the coat a wise purchase and worth the initial investment." Thank you again!
- “The Web site also explains a bad “cost per wear,” using the example of a $250 diamond necklace.” Fuck you very much; I stopped reading and stuck my head in an oven after the phrase “diamond necklace.” It’s a Pavlovian thing.
Whatever, maybe it would be better if we just all ran around naked. You first though. Don’t be shy; I promise I won’t make fun of you like last time.
These are a few of my favorite things.
Sometimes I draw with black pens – always black pens – on non-porous surfaces, and I press all eight of my fingers and each of my thumbs to it, repeating the image until it is barely there on my skin, an echo of what bright black blur it once was.
This is somewhat like poetry.
This is somewhat like falling in love.
Right now I can hear, too loudly, the sound of seconds, sliding past my eyes, and while they slip, everything kind of burns bright and fades, in rhythm, but not attached to skin, or whatever else.
This is kind of like dying.
I guess, it’s kind of like living, too.
I take drives out to cemeteries sometimes, and sometimes I walk. Cemeteries on hills are the best. And cemeteries near water (but not in or on). I like cemeteries with trees, and I like to run my hands over the old Indian graves, and old settler graves, and I like to write love letters to all the bodies, as they slowly crack apart and become simultaneously less meaningful and more full of meaning.
I guess this is why they call me,
The dark hour of the soul.
I love you,
3 A.M.
slinkyrie
slinkerdoodle
slinkyboneur
slinkthinker 2.5
robertlowelldunn
