<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6874291204939158343</id><updated>2012-02-16T20:03:18.846-08:00</updated><title type='text'>League of Adolescent Word Sayers</title><subtitle type='html'>The Mother of All Blogs&lt;br&gt;

&lt;a href="http://sites.google.com/site/wordsayers/"&gt;http://sites.google.com/site/wordsayers/&lt;/a&gt;</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wordsayers.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6874291204939158343/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wordsayers.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>WordSayers</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641726835992188889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>17</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6874291204939158343.post-5407471539235922913</id><published>2009-08-29T06:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-29T07:06:17.502-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Few Words on Words</title><content type='html'>When I asked the Spanish teacher in spring if I could skip the first year course, and dive right into Spanish II, he asked me if I was an honors student or a CP one like him. I was surprised; I'd heard so much about this teacher, how smart he is, how good and fluent at Spanish he is. But he wasn't one of the overachieving students. I always figured that you had to be either an overachiever or a genius to become fluent in another language. But he apparently wasn't. He was just another student who, like me, wanted to learn, but didn't necessarily want to work too hard for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took home a Spanish I book from a pile of books that the school was getting rid of. He didn't tell me to do that, but I wanted to be prepared. And, in a way, I wanted to impress him. My friends who take Spanish told me some basic rules of pronunciation, and I started my studying. I went through the book, writing the vocabulary over and over in a notebook, until I knew it. I only did this for a bout a month before I decided to move on to other things for the summer. I intended to start again before school started, but I never did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first day of school came, and my Spanish class was filled with people much more prepared than me. The teacher went over the rules for the class, and two rules especially stuck out to me: class participation and the homework policy. Not the punishments for breaking the rules, but the thing they encouraged: practice. The teacher expected everyone to participate and use the language, and devoted a large portion of our grades to it. He also gave us a written policy on homework, saying that his high school Spanish teacher gave him the same one. If his math teacher had given it to him, he would be teaching math, he said. Homework would be assigned every night. He wanted us to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;work.&lt;/span&gt; I trusted him, because it clearly turned out well for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did some review. Everyone in the class had taken a year of Spanish, and I was trying to keep up. They spoke, and I mostly heard gibberish. Mostly. I could pick out a few words here and there, but I still couldn't understand what they were saying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then I realized I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;could&lt;/span&gt; understand what they were saying. I just needed a minute to figure a sentence out. Of course, by the time I knew what it meant, the class had moved on, but I understood that sentence. And if that's all it took then, when I work on it, it will become easier.  The translation time will get shorter and shorter, until someday I'll be able to skip the English and simply hear a sentence for what it is. I just need to work at it, do my homework. I can learn a foreign language.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I think about my brother. We aren't so different. We're both stuck with people much more fluent in a language that we want to learn. The only difference is that he wants a first language. He's autistic. But the problem is the same: we want to know what people say, and we want to know how to say something back. If my teacher could do it, why not me? And if I can do it, why not my brother?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to be fluent.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6874291204939158343-5407471539235922913?l=wordsayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wordsayers.blogspot.com/feeds/5407471539235922913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6874291204939158343&amp;postID=5407471539235922913' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6874291204939158343/posts/default/5407471539235922913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6874291204939158343/posts/default/5407471539235922913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wordsayers.blogspot.com/2009/08/when-i-asked-spanish-teacher-in-spring.html' title='A Few Words on Words'/><author><name>WordSayers</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641726835992188889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6874291204939158343.post-3271775100850276732</id><published>2009-05-28T17:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T19:18:53.346-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Something to Think About Art</title><content type='html'>lately, i have been getting frustrated with the prices of equipment that i intend to eventually buy.  equipment such as a synthesizer, computer, camera, audio/video editing software... all so i can work on making music and film.  but to get good equipment- professional-quality camera, decent syntheziser, macbook- it takes a lot of saving.  not to mention saving to get a car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;art is expensive, and that's annoying.  you'd think self expression would be much easier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;also, think about this: so many untalented rich kids have easier access to good tools, while all the talented nonrich kids have to deal with less.  that's pretty unfair; many geniuses have to make due with very little, while an idiot, as long as they're rich, has access to the best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then i realized that maybe that is actually a good thing.  if a genius had everything easy, would he still reach his potential? maybe the reason people become good at what they do is because they have little, and they're forced to rely on their own skill, rather than rely on tools to make something good for them.  a genius often becomes a genius because of those challenges.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe that's why the general quality of many arts is going down in recent years; music, movies, and writing lately haven't been as good as they used to be (in general).  everybody has so much more access to tools now; people can create virtually anything with very little work.  during my parents' childhoods, video cameras were a much bigger deal; they had to put in time and effort just to get a simple home movie. they couldn't just refilm something if it went wrong, because it went on &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;film&lt;/span&gt;. they then had to go get it developed.  they didn't just fool around with video cameras, making goofy videos with their friends; they couldn't have afforded to. they couldn't even edit video.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nowadays, making things is extremely easy. with digital technology, we can afford to screw up, because we can just delete and start over; we can then edit video clips, and show them to the world virtually instantly.  that's another thing that's a big deal.  we can publish ourselves. people can view or hear our creations any time they want, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;instantly.  &lt;/span&gt;creativity is made so easy, and almost &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;anybody&lt;/span&gt; can add to the creative atmosphere of the internet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this can be a problem, in that because anybody can create, our standards are also lowered.  because most people &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; have amazing talent, we get used to average, and stop appreciating genius.  when things were harder to do, the creations people saw were the ones made by people who continued to pursue their craft despite the challenges; they had more practice at it (it usually takes years for a person to truly master their art), and the very fact that they persevered meant that they had a passion to put into their creations.  to add to that, people who sucked didn't succeed because companies wouldn't give them funding to make crap.  natural selection of art.  now, that selective atmosphere is gone; everybody is screaming their own individual ideas of creativity, regardless of whether they're good or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on one hand, we are in a kind of second renaissance. on the other, we are in a loud, chaotic, mediocre period in which everyone is more concerned with their own attention than appreciating good creativity.  i'm interested to see what the future holds for the world of creative minds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;rich idiots have more access to good tools than poor geniuses.  this would seem unfair. (keep in mind, i'm not saying that rich people are idiots or poor people are geniuses. i'm just pointing out how the way of things is a little fucked up sometimes.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but then... if you think about it. a genius may be made a genius by &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; having access to fancy tools.  they're forced focus not on their tools, but on their talent. people need that challenge, or they'd get lazy.  you can have all the special effects skill in the world, but without good skill at telling a good story, you're movie is going to suck.  on the other hand, you can have the shittiest camera, a crappy computer with only basic editing software (no effects), and create a masterpiece. it's all about what you focus on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;an artist should always focus on what they want to portrey, not their medium.  the medium will be taken care of if the creator knows what they want to do with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~thenicklad~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ps- i think this would be a good spot to put my two cents in about movie sequals... every movie needs a theme, a vision, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;something&lt;/span&gt; that drives the plot, moreso than just a simple chain of events. that's what makes a great movie great.  when sequals are made simply to continue the plot, they won't be as good.  if there's something more the director or writer wanted to portray, then a sequal has potential to be good.  but without a driving force of the plot, it is rather pointless to try to continue what's been finished. my example: the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;terminator &lt;/span&gt;movies. the first one portrayed fear; that fear of an unstopable force threatening you. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; what made it such a great movie, not the fact that it had great action sequences (those &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;were &lt;/span&gt;awesome, btw).  for the sequals, they simply wanted to continue the plot further, but didn't have a theme to go on. so the sequals weren't very good- but i haven't seen &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;salvation&lt;/span&gt; yet, so i can't judge that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pps- however, i do feel that &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;terminator: salvation&lt;/span&gt; is going to be a bad movie because one of the things that amazed me so much about the terminator movies was that they told a story of an entire war without actually showing the war. come on, that's epic! but then they had to make a movie about the wars... meh.  i'll have to see it, but i doubt i'll like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ppps- i just referenced &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;terminator&lt;/span&gt; twice in a blog about art... *giggles*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6874291204939158343-3271775100850276732?l=wordsayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wordsayers.blogspot.com/feeds/3271775100850276732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6874291204939158343&amp;postID=3271775100850276732' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6874291204939158343/posts/default/3271775100850276732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6874291204939158343/posts/default/3271775100850276732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wordsayers.blogspot.com/2009/05/something-to-think-about-art.html' title='Something to Think About Art'/><author><name>WordSayers</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641726835992188889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6874291204939158343.post-1325916698882284845</id><published>2009-04-23T15:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T15:22:25.557-07:00</updated><title type='text'>creatures of trust</title><content type='html'>I took an odd fixation recently on the fact that people walk on two legs… not that they do that in itself, but rather what they also do in walking like that. Man is really the first creature to walk about with an open and exposed belly. With no bone to protect our soft innards. This I found very odd, especially considering that man is the dominant species. I would think that any creature foolish enough to open themselves to attack would quickly be wiped out by natural selection. Then I realized what this truly was though. We weren’t revealing ourselves in attempt to gain some advantage, but hoping for trust, to show that we trusted others in hope that others would do the same. And they did. Our exposed bellies are what allowed bonds of trust and compassion to form. Our exposed bellies are what allowed society to form, allowing for teamwork and therefore our triumph over other natures. Now it interests me greatly that now man is such a dishonest, untrusting, manipulative, and exploitive race, considering that what let it rise were the exact opposite. It was our human bonds of love, compassion and trust, that have allowed us to rise and we now revoke them? We should re-embrace these wonderful things, not just for the sake of growth, that would fall back into manipulation, but simply because they make us better people, and because they are more fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, along the lines of this rantly thing, was my recent realization of why we show affection certain ways.  Among these are along people in near our bellies and heads. Lots of affectionate actions revolve around the head and belly. These are all our weak points. A neck is easy to break, and eyes easy to tear out, and necks easy to bite or cut. Same with bellies, they contain a bunch of easily torn apart vitals behind no wall of bone whatsoever. And how do we show affection? Commonly people will kiss, all over, necks included, either this is to show trust or to get that slight exhilaration of danger that comes with being so unprotected, or both. Also, kissing involves the most dangerous natural weapon of both individuals, the mouth. Heads are pretty often nuzzled as a sign of affection too, which leaves us open for attack. Cuddling, hugging, or any of those close contact belly related things leave us wide open, and we do this to show trust. Couples will do the whole staring into each other’s eyes sort of thing which gives the same opportunity to hurt the other as with kissing. Well you get my point. I am not insinuating that these are done consciously, but I suspect they are part of the subconscious reason for all that stuff. Meh. Bored writing stuff now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But in short summary, these thoughts have renewed my faith in humanity, that people are creature of trust, compassion, and love -That those things are what we are in our basic nature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-your humble, taster of tea&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6874291204939158343-1325916698882284845?l=wordsayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wordsayers.blogspot.com/feeds/1325916698882284845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6874291204939158343&amp;postID=1325916698882284845' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6874291204939158343/posts/default/1325916698882284845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6874291204939158343/posts/default/1325916698882284845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wordsayers.blogspot.com/2009/04/creatures-of-trust.html' title='creatures of trust'/><author><name>WordSayers</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641726835992188889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6874291204939158343.post-7271886302262753501</id><published>2009-04-23T13:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T13:08:38.238-07:00</updated><title type='text'>on progression from oaks to kentucky bluegrass</title><content type='html'>It seems the most dominant plant life reflects what place we give the heavens. In a world that is very old, but people are young, trees cover everything holding the heavens in high regard and faith is the ultimate authority on everything. But slowly the trees lose their dominance. Then farm crops rise, and faith is an important thing that is not quite the people's entire way of life to those people who live simpler and less dangerous lives than those who wandered the natural world. Then suburbs and cities were had with either no plant life or nothing but grass shaved close to the earth. Then our faith is only a toy to be kept down constantly or just entirely absent. Our feeble grass can not support the mighty heavens we once had and our way of life is the reason for this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-your humble, taster of tea&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6874291204939158343-7271886302262753501?l=wordsayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wordsayers.blogspot.com/feeds/7271886302262753501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6874291204939158343&amp;postID=7271886302262753501' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6874291204939158343/posts/default/7271886302262753501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6874291204939158343/posts/default/7271886302262753501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wordsayers.blogspot.com/2009/04/progression-from-oaks-to-kentucky.html' title='on progression from oaks to kentucky bluegrass'/><author><name>WordSayers</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641726835992188889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6874291204939158343.post-8969555433107004215</id><published>2009-03-24T16:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T16:58:37.530-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Runner</title><content type='html'>What the fuck is up with this shit&lt;br /&gt;It's not fucking worth all this&lt;br /&gt;Even when we don't have a break&lt;br /&gt;It's not ever our mistake&lt;br /&gt;Take us where the leaders end&lt;br /&gt;Bring us to those called friends&lt;br /&gt;Don't think I don't talk to much&lt;br /&gt;Speaking words is just a crutch&lt;br /&gt;Fuck the time when we were sad&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to be that bad&lt;br /&gt;Time to bring us out of here&lt;br /&gt;Tear the walls and be sincere&lt;br /&gt;Have the time to make a life&lt;br /&gt;Empty out the safety knife&lt;br /&gt;Can't decide what I will do&lt;br /&gt;Punishment to be with you&lt;br /&gt;Maybe if I waited here&lt;br /&gt;I'll get a chance and I won't fear&lt;br /&gt;Save me from my love-proof box&lt;br /&gt;Tear the sides and break the locks&lt;br /&gt;Can't you see I have to be&lt;br /&gt;Only hearing, never see&lt;br /&gt;Please don't think I do not feel&lt;br /&gt;Just know that my love is real&lt;br /&gt;Mes amis sont tres content&lt;br /&gt;They are there while I am not&lt;br /&gt;All you have to do is call&lt;br /&gt;Ask me and I'll catch your fall&lt;br /&gt;Don't think I don't want to show&lt;br /&gt;All the feelings that I know&lt;br /&gt;Only you can understand&lt;br /&gt;Leaving words and play the band&lt;br /&gt;Notes of endless feeling try&lt;br /&gt;Lucky notes will catch your eye&lt;br /&gt;Don't leave when there is so much&lt;br /&gt;Hiding inside, never touched&lt;br /&gt;Saving from the spaced-out stare&lt;br /&gt;Anybody, anywhere&lt;br /&gt;Only one that is not blind&lt;br /&gt;Someone that was hard to find&lt;br /&gt;Coming out, saved me from hell&lt;br /&gt;Frightened, ran, and hid so well&lt;br /&gt;Where'd you go when you were sad?&lt;br /&gt;Am I really all that bad?&lt;br /&gt;What a monster I've become&lt;br /&gt;Loving all while loved by none&lt;br /&gt;Peaceful children jumping, prancing&lt;br /&gt;Wishing woods were near for dancing&lt;br /&gt;See the only option's flee&lt;br /&gt;Running fails to avoid me&lt;br /&gt;Run for miles, never stop&lt;br /&gt;Out of breath, I start to walk&lt;br /&gt;Failed at something once again&lt;br /&gt;Fuck the words I'll never send.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~thenicklad~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6874291204939158343-8969555433107004215?l=wordsayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wordsayers.blogspot.com/feeds/8969555433107004215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6874291204939158343&amp;postID=8969555433107004215' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6874291204939158343/posts/default/8969555433107004215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6874291204939158343/posts/default/8969555433107004215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wordsayers.blogspot.com/2009/03/runner.html' title='Runner'/><author><name>WordSayers</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641726835992188889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6874291204939158343.post-406663987548127329</id><published>2009-02-16T18:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T18:25:24.702-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hippy Speech</title><content type='html'>The hippies were right.  Love pwns.  Simply.  And it ought to be shared.  But for whatever reason everyone seems to arrive at this ridiculous notion that love is an exclusive thing. Which causes ( I just remembered a terrible, but hilarious hippy joke told by Joanna Newsom...How many hippies does it take to screw in a light bulb? Hippies don't screw in light bulbs, they screw in dirty sleeping bags. *laugh track*) a lot of confusion when people begin either feeling love for multiple people, or someone is loved by multiple people. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a bunch of bull.  There isn't a reason in the world love should be exclusive.  Maybe sex and things like that should be fairly exclusive... not just because of disease but because of chemical BS that confuses folks... but that really hasn't anything to do with love.  I dunno, maybe I'm just a li'l bit different in my feelings than everyone else... but i think that connection between love and sex is a big part of the problem, and at very least it's origin. The place I have always assumed it came entirely from was the media.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(same idea, except less intentional as how the major diamond companies paid off Hollywood to start acting like diamonds were a symbol of love, so they could make more money. that's the only reason they are so common for engagement rings now.) media put up these attempts to show love...and really how the hell can you show that on video... you can't, it's a bit too deep and complicated to be caught, so they combined it with physical BS. All the sex, and things like that sort of became a convention of modern media to mean love... which eventually evolved from a convention to a misconception in the minds of the people. ( i didn't intend this to be a discussion of mass media (oh marshall macluhan))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or, there is the idea that we are stuck in the habits of dark ages in which love couldn't be shared because you had to survive, and it is a bit wearing on your economic situation to love multiple folks.  So people kept their love exclusive so they wouldn't die.  Since we aren't in such harsh, economic everyone is dying times, that needn't live on, that exclusive love is just a force of habit, still existing because people don't like change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but back affirming my philosophy on love.  it can be shared and recieved by any number of people.  that a network of love just brings more people closer together so that we can realize that we are basically all, the same, thinking, feeling creatures that need from life, the same basic things. and after realizing that, try and help everyone attain those same basic needs, so we can all be happy. I really, really think that i cannot  get away with saying "peace out" after this extraordinarily hippyish speech, can i? damn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-your humblest, taster of teas&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6874291204939158343-406663987548127329?l=wordsayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wordsayers.blogspot.com/feeds/406663987548127329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6874291204939158343&amp;postID=406663987548127329' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6874291204939158343/posts/default/406663987548127329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6874291204939158343/posts/default/406663987548127329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wordsayers.blogspot.com/2009/02/hippy-speech.html' title='Hippy Speech'/><author><name>WordSayers</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641726835992188889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6874291204939158343.post-1989591547176300358</id><published>2009-02-16T13:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T13:23:34.365-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dueling</title><content type='html'>May I simply say, that I love the wisdom wikipedia bestows, such as this article on dueling &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dueling#Unusual_duels"&gt;http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dueling#Unusual_duels&lt;/a&gt; may I emphasize one passage on unusual duels&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"In 1808, two Frenchmen are said to have fought in balloons over Paris, each attempting to shoot and puncture the other's balloon; one duelist is said to have been shot down and killed with his second.&lt;a title="" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dueling#cite_note-smithsonian-1"&gt;[2]&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thirty-five years later (1843), two men are said to have fought a duel by means of throwing billiard balls at each other.&lt;a title="" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dueling#cite_note-smithsonian-1"&gt;[2]&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some participants in a duel, given the choice of weapons, are said to have deliberately chosen ridiculous weapons such as &lt;a title="Howitzer" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Howitzer"&gt;howitzers&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a title="Sledgehammer" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sledgehammer"&gt;sledgehammers&lt;/a&gt;, or forkfuls of pig dung, in order to show their disdain for duelling.&lt;a title="" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dueling#cite_note-smithsonian-1"&gt;[2]&lt;/a&gt; After being challenged to a duel, Abraham Lincoln was said to have picked cow dung at ten paces, which prompted his challenger to cancel it.[&lt;a title="Wikipedia:Citation needed" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wikipedia:Citation_needed"&gt;citation needed&lt;/a&gt;]&lt;br /&gt;It is said (though not confirmed) that &lt;a title="Otto von Bismarck" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Otto_von_Bismarck"&gt;Otto von Bismarck&lt;/a&gt; challenged &lt;a title="Rudolf Virchow" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rudolf_Virchow"&gt;Rudolf Virchow&lt;/a&gt; to a duel. Virchow, as the challenged party had the choice of weapons; he chose two sausages, one of which had been inoculated with cholera. Bismarck is said to have called off the duel at once"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;were i challenged to a duel i have decided that i would choose either a 2x4 at 1 pace, or poison ivy, at zero paces. it would be funny swinging the boards around at eachother from such a distance, with little control. with poison ivy i would just put a cloth over my mouth and burn under the other persons nose...the smoke there from would then cause their lungs to die. yay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok...done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-taster of tea&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6874291204939158343-1989591547176300358?l=wordsayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wordsayers.blogspot.com/feeds/1989591547176300358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6874291204939158343&amp;postID=1989591547176300358' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6874291204939158343/posts/default/1989591547176300358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6874291204939158343/posts/default/1989591547176300358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wordsayers.blogspot.com/2009/02/dueling.html' title='Dueling'/><author><name>WordSayers</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641726835992188889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6874291204939158343.post-504727629332135010</id><published>2009-02-08T18:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T18:55:14.715-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Things to Say</title><content type='html'>In order from easiest to hardest to say:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I hate you.&lt;br /&gt;2. Fuck you.&lt;br /&gt;3. I'm sorry&lt;br /&gt;4. Hey, that was pretty...&lt;br /&gt;5. Yea, I'm fine.&lt;br /&gt;6. Are you alright?&lt;br /&gt;7. I miss you.&lt;br /&gt;8. Let's go on an adventure together...&lt;br /&gt;9. I'm sorry.&lt;br /&gt;10. I love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The less we mean something, the easier it is to say.  The more we have to say something, the harder it is to get the words out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6874291204939158343-504727629332135010?l=wordsayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wordsayers.blogspot.com/feeds/504727629332135010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6874291204939158343&amp;postID=504727629332135010' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6874291204939158343/posts/default/504727629332135010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6874291204939158343/posts/default/504727629332135010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wordsayers.blogspot.com/2009/02/things-to-say.html' title='Things to Say'/><author><name>WordSayers</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641726835992188889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6874291204939158343.post-914849610491548514</id><published>2009-01-30T15:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T15:17:21.091-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Brail</title><content type='html'>Ok.  Graffiti.  Y'know, people spraypaint on stuff, write stuff, et cetera stuff.  So now that's on your mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blind people read Braille.  You see a sign for a bathroom, it has something written in Braille right below it.  (It probably says "men's/women's bathroom," but I can't read it.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So.  Why don't some people use whatever blind people use to type Braille (what are those things called???) and make graffiti blind-person friendly?  It wouldn't take much work, just "hey, graffiti!" *type type type* and stick the printed thing on the wall right below it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then again, why the hell don't blind people vandalize anything??? I want to see more plain old Braille graffiti!  Something that people with vision can't read, but a blind person who happens to walk into the wall at that spot would feel the bumps, and THEY'D get it!  What the hell is wrong with the world when you don't have Braille graffiti????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think everybody needs to learn Braille, and start making an effort to make Braille more interesting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6874291204939158343-914849610491548514?l=wordsayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wordsayers.blogspot.com/feeds/914849610491548514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6874291204939158343&amp;postID=914849610491548514' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6874291204939158343/posts/default/914849610491548514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6874291204939158343/posts/default/914849610491548514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wordsayers.blogspot.com/2009/01/brail.html' title='Brail'/><author><name>WordSayers</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641726835992188889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6874291204939158343.post-1211786901338682171</id><published>2009-01-28T19:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T19:03:03.499-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Snowman</title><content type='html'>I make each snowman&lt;br /&gt;Like it's the last one I'll ever make,&lt;br /&gt;Because I'm fifteen years old.&lt;br /&gt;For all I know,&lt;br /&gt;It could be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6874291204939158343-1211786901338682171?l=wordsayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wordsayers.blogspot.com/feeds/1211786901338682171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6874291204939158343&amp;postID=1211786901338682171' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6874291204939158343/posts/default/1211786901338682171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6874291204939158343/posts/default/1211786901338682171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wordsayers.blogspot.com/2009/01/snowman.html' title='Snowman'/><author><name>WordSayers</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641726835992188889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6874291204939158343.post-4954252056697903760</id><published>2009-01-26T14:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T09:58:04.521-08:00</updated><title type='text'>9/11</title><content type='html'>OK, I hate posting youtube videos to a blog (they're meant to be emailed to your friends, shared, cherished, together.), but this is really interesting, so I kind of have to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yu_moia-oVI"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yu_moia-oVI&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a really amazing concept he's portraying here.  The attack on the World Trade Center was an extremely tragic event, possibly  the most tragic thing to happen to the United States since Pearl Harbor.  But the United States can, and has gone through a lot, and it has still pulled through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;If you prick me, I will bleed/ But I have lots of blood to bleed...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No matter what your opinion of it is, the United States is a strong country.  The attacks may have been just a small prick, but blood was shed nonetheless.  Innocent blood, of people who didn't deserve to be murdered.  The country united after the attacks; I very clearly remember the weeks after the attacks.  We may have been divided as to strategy, but we had one objective.  We had been attacked, but we were still strong.  A few years later, we'd lost that unity, but after such a tragedy, we had been able to come together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Pump that area... /But don't give in to the hysteria.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After such a horrific act, many people were enraged.  They wanted (and still want) war.  People so often need an enemy to blame after being attacked like we were.  Some one has to pay, they think.  This rage was used by the Bush administration, for whatever reason, to gain support for the war in Iraq.  By making people believe in links between Saddam Hussein and 9/11, he made Hussein that enemy that people so desperately wanted to destroy.  People forgot what really happened on September 11, 2001, because they wanted someone to be punished.  "9/11" became a propaganda phrase;  attaching it to something got people to support any action taking, no matter how obviously wrong, no matter how obviously unconstitutional.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;If you mug me, I won't run, I won't run to get my gun...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Terrorism is not just an attack.  The main objective of terrorism is to strike fear in the majority of the target population, not just to kill.  The reason al-Qaeda attacked the world trade center was because it was such a famous symbol, and destroying that symbol would scare the rest of the country.  By being scared, and blindly fighting whatever "enemy" we are told to attack, we are making 9/11 a successful mission.  Do we want those people who died that day to have died in vain? No? So we can't join the hysteric masses, we must know what we're dealing with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who is our greater enemy: the terrorists, or ourselves for believing them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6874291204939158343-4954252056697903760?l=wordsayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wordsayers.blogspot.com/feeds/4954252056697903760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6874291204939158343&amp;postID=4954252056697903760' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6874291204939158343/posts/default/4954252056697903760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6874291204939158343/posts/default/4954252056697903760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wordsayers.blogspot.com/2009/01/ok-i-hate-posting-youtube-videos-to.html' title='9/11'/><author><name>WordSayers</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641726835992188889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6874291204939158343.post-2527061708976143196</id><published>2009-01-21T17:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T18:20:23.180-08:00</updated><title type='text'>shower</title><content type='html'>[accent="irish"] this is my first post, what actually shall stay, and as you may've noticed it is in accents, that's just how my mind thinks (and this is all just how my mind thinks...a short sampling so you know not to listen to it), changing between accents at random, generally confined to places within the UK, so there you go.[/accent]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[accent="english"] anyway, i was in the shower, when i started thinking, and recognized my doing so.[/accent]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[accent="irish"] boy did i tell myself so many scary things. Do you really think the mind governs you entirely, or the body, or the soul? No, of course not, (Oh, and when i say irish, i mean real fucking irish, not some prancy little american who had an irish mum thirty generations back. no, i mean currently living in ireland, all you "irish americans" can fuck off. you're not irish, you're american possibly with some roots, but nothing more)  those three forces reside within you, fighting for control, and often they intermix a little. each one is just fighting to survive at the top. the body is all up for survival, the mind tries its hand at sanity[/accent]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[accent="scottish"](which also means driving the sanity right out of others, just to reach the top)[/accent]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[accent="irish"] and your soul tries to preserve its eternal light by helping others.  so when they intermix, you find odd things, like preserving the race... sexing it up to carry on the species, definately the mind fucking with how the body works, lord knows pregnancy isn't kind to the body. so it is the effect of other people's minds fucking with you, and also a litte bit of your mind taking your body out of the competition for control. but anyway, (so stop worrying about your daughter getting it on. it isn't healthy for mind body or soul...and lord knows she has enough of the soul in her to outweigh any little chemical bullshit telling her what to do. hormones do not control us.we are masters of our fates, able to effect (yes i used that right there...the real verb of effect, not affect which more commonly used) them as we please. so stop letting science tell you what is. although it isn't likely a bag of rice in the corner of the room is about to turn into a goat, your hormones can be controlled. we are not machines, we are not a bundle of sensors, we are not tabula rasa. we are. we have been and continue to be.[/accent]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[accent="english"] so do let your mind corrupt you or your soul, nor should you let anyone else's mind corrupt you. and lord don't let your mind rationalize anything. rationalizing is just giving evil reason and basis...truth and good needn't rationalization. [/accent]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[and in my own voice] and i don't have all the answers, but the answer sure as hell doesn't lie in sitting here refreshing my inbox, nor in watering down my every creative impulse for the sake of one day easing my fit into a predestined mold. so let me say this very clearly, FUCK. THAT. SHIT. [/whatever that was]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[accent="irish"] celox is some amazing shit. it works in such an innovative way, and maybe it holds the beginning keys to regeneration of limbs. think of it...crabs and other crustaceans that regenerate bits are what have natural versions of celox, maybe the key to regeneration is rooted in sealing off a wound so quickly that no cell can die, and can't try and close off the tissue, but rather encased in the gelatinous celox clot, can continue to undergo mitosis without risk of bloodletting or disease. the celox covers and clots....protecting it from the outside world. maybe we are discovering the beginnings of the bioengineering to be able to do that shit.[/accent]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[accent="scottish"] and lord knows we haven't the right do that shit. we are doing things that weren't meant to be [/accent]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[my voice]i would like having wings sometimes [/booyah]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[accent="welsh"] some force, gave us the things we have, and so we should rejoice. but for whatever reason we need to progress...our minds sent us all so far from simplicity[/accent]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[my voice] all of it down, soft curvely things....so easily against the sky[/booyah]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[accent="welsh"] ahhh, it already seems to be breaking down. i fall into the soft welsh ones as i begin to leave thought. aristotle might help me lead em back. documentations can blow away in the wind. we live free of influence. no form to tell us we are alive. only our heart pulsing and soul breathing[/accent]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[accent="irish"] aye, and don't you forget you yeasayers of my little speeches. this my mind talking, and if you follow it, your minds will burn. your motherfucking souls will come out. so even though it is my mind plummeting me farthr into darkness... it is saving you, bringing you closer to salvation (silly christianity...you are not quite what i mean to say, this entire rant is so full of religious overtones, it is almost sickening..but they weren't quite what i was meaning to say.) so for a moment...it seems my mind can coexist with my soul...doing good, and killing your mind. [/accent]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[accent="amanda palmer"] *astronaut*[/accent]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*shakes like a mad girl who hasn't seen the light in ten years and hears music in the dark. head darting at different angles...smiles breaking when they haven't right...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then there is silence* *shuts off the water. hears voices outside.*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;shhhhh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-your humblest, taster of tea&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6874291204939158343-2527061708976143196?l=wordsayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wordsayers.blogspot.com/feeds/2527061708976143196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6874291204939158343&amp;postID=2527061708976143196' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6874291204939158343/posts/default/2527061708976143196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6874291204939158343/posts/default/2527061708976143196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wordsayers.blogspot.com/2009/01/shower.html' title='shower'/><author><name>WordSayers</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641726835992188889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6874291204939158343.post-8863559278514838213</id><published>2008-12-30T13:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-30T13:33:27.634-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chelsea, Come Home!!!!!</title><content type='html'>We miss you up here!  Please come back!  *whine, whine, is sad, sad*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Nick, Jake, et Sam&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6874291204939158343-8863559278514838213?l=wordsayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wordsayers.blogspot.com/feeds/8863559278514838213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6874291204939158343&amp;postID=8863559278514838213' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6874291204939158343/posts/default/8863559278514838213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6874291204939158343/posts/default/8863559278514838213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wordsayers.blogspot.com/2008/12/chelsea-come-home.html' title='Chelsea, Come Home!!!!!'/><author><name>WordSayers</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641726835992188889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6874291204939158343.post-3359948650791323698</id><published>2008-12-21T19:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-21T19:28:55.024-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Plans</title><content type='html'>The future is a bright place.  My existence is kind of pwning.  Recent events have given my mind inspiration, and my mind has created.  Plans.  Things existing only in my mind, but with intentions of bringing them to the world.  My mind has made them, now I need to make tangible versions.  Many things.  These things would have seemed impossible before, but now nothing is in my way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mostly artistic plans.  Recently I started learning a lot more about video editing, which takes away the obstacle of a lack of media to work with.  Then I got ideas for a few videos, which we only have to make now  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(coming soon from wordsayers...) &lt;/span&gt;and then I started getting more ideas.  And the future is a pretty cool place, as it keeps getting closer to the present I can see it clearer, and the more I see, the more I get excited about stuffs.  Personal things, creative things, everything in my life is starting to pwn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a general message to the world... life pwns, you just need to give it time to get there.  My life is almost at the absolute pwning point, which makes the present a pretty fun place to be... getting excited about stuff is fun :) hello world, y'all deserve a hug :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;less than three,&lt;br /&gt;Nick&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6874291204939158343-3359948650791323698?l=wordsayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wordsayers.blogspot.com/feeds/3359948650791323698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6874291204939158343&amp;postID=3359948650791323698' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6874291204939158343/posts/default/3359948650791323698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6874291204939158343/posts/default/3359948650791323698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wordsayers.blogspot.com/2008/12/plans.html' title='Plans'/><author><name>WordSayers</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641726835992188889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6874291204939158343.post-2906670936345373659</id><published>2008-12-12T05:46:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T05:46:28.347-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Kinkometer Project</title><content type='html'>A few weeks ago, we came up with the idea of a way of measuring kink levels of various things.&amp;nbsp; This led Jake to make the Kinkometer, a two-dimensional plane for that purpose.&amp;nbsp; Because it would not be enough to simply measure the kink factor, a second dimension was added to show how much things are actually liked;&amp;nbsp; just because something is a turn on or a turn off, doesn't mean that it is necessarily a good or a bad thing.&amp;nbsp; The X axis represents how much something turns you on, and the Y axis represents how much you like it (in a mental/emotional, non-physical way- I feel like I have to clarify that).&amp;nbsp; A value of zero represents neutrality;&amp;nbsp; for example, on my kinkometer, I'd give "clean air" an X value of zero, because it doesn't turn me on or off, but it would have a positive Y value because, surprising as it may be, I do, in fact, like to breath on occasion. (negative numbers are turn offs/dislikes)&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; So, we decided to make this a survey project.&amp;nbsp; We made a list of things that we want you to place on your kinkometer.&amp;nbsp; With the data we get from this, we will try to make the kinkometer of the average person.&amp;nbsp; Don't be afraid to be honest;&amp;nbsp; a lot of the things on the list are kind of awkward to think about this way, but we will keep this entirely anonymous;&amp;nbsp; we'll only use the data we get from you, no other information.&amp;nbsp; (Well, unless we know you, then we might tease you a bit =P.&amp;nbsp; But we won't share who put what where on their kinkometer with anybody.) To get to the kinkometer page, go &lt;a  href="http://sites.google.com/site/wordsayers/kinkometer"&gt;here:&amp;nbsp; http://sites.google.com/site/wordsayers/kinkometer&lt;/a&gt;. Also, if there's anything that isn't on the list that you think should be, just email us, and give us your coordinates for it.&lt;br&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6874291204939158343-2906670936345373659?l=wordsayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wordsayers.blogspot.com/feeds/2906670936345373659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6874291204939158343&amp;postID=2906670936345373659' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6874291204939158343/posts/default/2906670936345373659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6874291204939158343/posts/default/2906670936345373659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wordsayers.blogspot.com/2008/12/kinkometer-project.html' title='The Kinkometer Project'/><author><name>WordSayers</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641726835992188889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6874291204939158343.post-2524345048868651000</id><published>2008-12-03T13:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T13:57:13.173-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Heya Folks</title><content type='html'>Hey, 'tis me, your Taster of Tea.&lt;br /&gt;As you are coming to know, I am the one amongst us wordsayers who tends to only post writing...and stories, and that sorts. At least for the most part. Anywho, so I am releasing the first chapter of my recent dream inspired story, &lt;em&gt;God's Pity&lt;/em&gt;. Here is the link for anyone whom is interested &lt;a href="http://jacobgrichard.blogspot.com/2008/12/gods-pity-chapter-1.html"&gt;http://jacobgrichard.blogspot.com/2008/12/gods-pity-chapter-1.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. This is me wishing I knew a li'l more about the coding crap...if I did, I would have made that link say something spiffy like, boomskatboomskehah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6874291204939158343-2524345048868651000?l=wordsayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wordsayers.blogspot.com/feeds/2524345048868651000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6874291204939158343&amp;postID=2524345048868651000' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6874291204939158343/posts/default/2524345048868651000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6874291204939158343/posts/default/2524345048868651000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wordsayers.blogspot.com/2008/12/heya-folks.html' title='Heya Folks'/><author><name>WordSayers</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641726835992188889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6874291204939158343.post-6233033390189601304</id><published>2008-11-25T14:38:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T14:38:46.204-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This Blog</title><content type='html'>Well.&amp;nbsp; Now the League of Adolescent Word Sayers has a blog.&amp;nbsp; (If you want to learn about wordsayers, go to &lt;a   href="http://sites.google.com/site/wordsayers/"&gt;http://sites.google.com/site/wordsayers/&lt;/a&gt; and stuffs.)&amp;nbsp; And that pretty much gives us total freedom over our creativity;&amp;nbsp; we have YouTube for videos, two websites (our original, on FreeWebs and our new one, on Google) and now a blog.&amp;nbsp; We now can put any of our creations online, for all to see.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Of coarse, now that we have that freedom, I feel a creative block, and I don't know what to make, probably because I'm trying too hard to think of something.&amp;nbsp; Damn.&amp;nbsp; I really want to make something.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; The internet is a fun place! Oh boy!&lt;br&gt; Let's explore!&lt;br&gt; Let's make something!&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Let's blow some shit up!&lt;br&gt; Actually... I think that that might be a good idea.&amp;nbsp; We have to get to that sometime... piss.&amp;nbsp; It's winter; blowing some shit up isn't as fun in winter.&amp;nbsp; So coming this spring, we'll have to make some biggogo poofs.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; How about some philosophy!&lt;br&gt; Fuck that.&amp;nbsp; Every time somebody on the internet runs out of ideas, they start THINKING.&amp;nbsp; OK, there are some people that make some really amazing philosophical blogs/videos/et ceteras (Ze Frank, of zefrank.com, for example) but tons of people just want to post something great, don't have any ideas, and so they start doing a stream of consciousness, trying to find meaning in stuff.&amp;nbsp; Honestly, unless people come up with creative insights when doing that, they really shouldn't post something just because they want to post something.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; I, on the other hand, want to post something, have no ideas, and so I am..... shit.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; OK, so moving on from that, I have no ideas.&amp;nbsp; So, that's the end of this here blog post.&amp;nbsp; Bam.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; ~Nick~&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; P.S. This email feature of blogger is really cool... I wrote this whole thing from Mozilla Thunderbird, which is much quicker than having to sign into blogger...&lt;br&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6874291204939158343-6233033390189601304?l=wordsayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wordsayers.blogspot.com/feeds/6233033390189601304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6874291204939158343&amp;postID=6233033390189601304' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6874291204939158343/posts/default/6233033390189601304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6874291204939158343/posts/default/6233033390189601304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wordsayers.blogspot.com/2008/11/this-blog.html' title='This Blog'/><author><name>WordSayers</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641726835992188889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
