Cardiovascular Vaseline

Life is a great big ridiculous joke and death is the punch line.

I drew plans up for a sensory deprivation tank, wheeheehee, where am I going to find the money to fund that?

I wrote my own theory to the physical stumper of Maxwell’s Little Demon: His hypothetical “creature” acting as a gatekeeper that sorts out different gas particles can be a programmed filter, like the general idea of a coin changing machine, but I don’t want to go into detail here.

I’m slowly abandoning my ambition to work in an Intelligence Agency and may decide to take philosophy and physics as my majors in college. I may even want to go back to college for a second PhD, but I’ll just see where I end up after A levels first.

I have observed the political world and found that all hope for socialism, even with the attempts of new American President Barack Obama, is still lost and has become a wandering entity in my aspirations and a lost concept in the book of politics, so screw liberalism.

For the fun of it, I want to have a a parody campaign that goes against the vegans for the cruelty to vegetables.

I want to publish all my current drafts and manuscripts and hope that people would read them and I can get paid for being Marc Ashley, get marketed as a personality and change millions of worthless lives, have haters stalking me while I walk my dog and have people lined up for my autographs and have me reject them and in turn, force them to form a separatist version of the former group and try to assassinate me instead.

I do hope that people understand that sometimes I feel my personal life (except for certain events and on-goings) is too boring and meaningless to be blogged about, like I’ve once typed: So much for the gory details of my adolescence.

I have abandoned the idea of reality altogether and have tried to even my perceptions in my own mindset.

I want to make all the money in the world and burn it in front of everyone! Quoting Heath Ledger’s Joker in Dark Knight: “it’s not about money, it’s about sending out the message: everything burns”

Thus I conclude: Everything we have now must be destroyed, then we’d know how much of the world is meant to be forgotten, out of this destruction, we have to find a means to create a subjective world that fits our ideals and with the knowledge we’ve thus gathered, we might be able not to fuck up this time round; quoting Palahniuk: “here we are the pilgrims, the crackpots of our time trying to establish our own alternate reality… to create a world out of rocks and chaos…”