My Great Power

I changed its existence again.There’s a bug in my room. Or rather there was a bug in my room. It’s dead. I think it was a centipede or a millipede.  I don’t even remember killing it, but I know it was me. Its carcass lies on the wall of the corner of my room. It’s been there for years. I know it’s been at least four years. I used to call him Bob the cockroach as a joke when I’d look up and see it on my wall.

Its innards have long been eaten by some other bugs in my room. Life hasn’t been in it. It’s just an empty shell. Nobody would even know it existed. This bug had no name. It was just popped out by its parents, then left to fend for itself. That is my great power. I grant this bug existence by remembering it and looking up at that corner. There’s not a living creature in the world who cares what happened to this millipede. I murdered it. I ended its life just because it looked creepy. There’s no parents worrying about what happened to it. There’s no void in the world now that it is dead. It didn’t matter to the world whether or not this particular bug lived. It might as well not even have existed.

Was there any value to its life? I don’t know what this bug did before I ended it. I have some theories but I will never know how it lived its life. It was crushed to death.  A terrible way to die. I killed this bug and I’ll never be punished for it. Nobody cares about a millipede or centipede or what ever the heck it was.

My great power is to give this bug significance and existence. The world has forgotten this bug. The world never cared about this bug. I give this bug purpose. Whenever I remember it, it matters for once.  I’ve killed many bugs just like that one. Their dead bodies aren’t hanging in my room like this one. Its body grows harder and harder as the years pass by. One day it might fall. And then perhaps I’ll forget about that bug. It won’t exist at that time unless I recall it.

One day I’ll die and my memories will go with me. Then it will fade from this world forever. It will never exist again. Does it matter? There’s loads of these bugs. I see bugs just like it all over the place. Does it need to exist anymore? Is there any point to me remembering this bug that the world has moved on from? A bug with no name. A bug with parents that didn’t care for it. A bug that died because a young boy found that it offended his sight. I suppose there’s not much of a point to keeping it in mind at all.

I only remember it to flex my own ego. I control the existence of a creature. Even though the creature is insignificant to the world, I still hold the power of its existence in my hands. A great power. Of course, that power is no longer mine alone. Anyone who reads this now grants the bug existence.  Through my words, I’ve granted the bug a more permanent place of existence. It now rests among the data surfing around the internet.

I don’t know how long this bug will exist in this form. I have no control over it. WordPress could take its site down one day long after I die. taking away the bug’s existence once and for all. It’s fun to be able to decide whether something will exist or not and how it will continue to exist. I might use this power again on the next bug I encounter.


I am a monster.

I’ve tried to cover up this truth. I wanted to be like the others. Each lesson that my mother and society tried to instill in me never worked. The first signs came early. I was too young to notice that my true nature was something far from those around me. A monster is still a monster even if it doesn’t know it is one. The earliest sign was when my mother grew very ill around the time I was six. I could only think about how I had to make food myself and how annoying that was. I never cared that my mother was lying in bed unable to get up for days. She recovered, but it didn’t mean much to me.

My mother told me many stories when I was a child. My favorite was always the one with the serpent causing the fall of man. The serpent ruins everything.

He’s just a snake, not a massive creature like a dragon. It can’t fly. It’s not physically imposing. He has no fire but he burns their paradise to ashes. He didn’t use his teeth or poison to kill the two fools. His only weapon was his tongue. With his words, he had more might than an infinitely powerful being. He had enough wit and cunning to get the two to disobey. The serpent did not fear the repercussions from a being that could turn him to dust or end his existence. He didn’t care. His nature was to deceive and cause suffering. And he gets what he wanted. He achieves it in the face of opposition that is limitless in power.  I admired that snake. He was the first true monster I was told about.

My mother called that story the fall of man. The lesson I was supposed to take away from it was to obey. I did for many years after that. After she told the story,  I always asked my mother questions about the serpent.  The serpent was in paradise. Why would it cause the ruin of it? Wasn’t it happy there? She could never give me a good answer.

I spent the majority of my youth concerned with my grades. I wasn’t happy. I was just stressed. I completed my work as best as I could. I outperformed everyone, but each accolade I received meant nothing to me. The yellow honor roll paper lined the floor of my room. I had no true purpose to be on this planet. I didn’t find it in the textbooks I put my eyes to for hours. It wasn’t in the words of my teachers’ lectures. I didn’t find it in the standardized tests the government thought that I needed to take.  I didn’t find one until a boy who called himself my friend cheated off of me on a test. He thought he was my friend, but I’ve never had any real connection with any other person. I’ve touched lips with women. I’ve shook hands and hugged many blood relatives. But I’d never say that I liked any of them. The boy had told me in the past that his father would beat him if he didn’t pass this class. I had noticed him during the test glancing over at my paper. We made eye contact. He winked at me, a sign that I should let him continue to leech off of my work After we took the test, he nodded toward me. A sign that he was glad to be a parasite.

The test results came back. And we both had perfect scores. The teacher asked me in front of the class if I had been tutoring the boy. It was here that my true nature came out. The boy and I were in paradise. We were both getting what we wanted. But why wasn’t I happy? I told the teacher that the boy had cheated off of me. Not because of academic ethics or integrity or any garbage like that. I did it to see if I would feel different. If I would feel something. And I did. As I watched the boy have his test ripped up in front of the class, I felt up. I wanted to laugh. He broke down and cried as the teacher called his father. His tears warmed my heart more than any perfect score on a test did. More than any friend’s smile or wink ever could.

My words changed the course of his life. He was expelled. My words cast him out of my school. I saw him a week later in a grocery store. His eye was purple and bruised. I didn’t feel sorry for him as he told me what his father did to him. In fact this put a smile on my face. He asked me why I did it. I just winked at him and then left. I couldn’t help but to taunt him while he was down.

I realized why the serpent did what it did. What is success if everyone is successful? What is happiness if everyone is happy? Not everyone should win. There must be losers. It is not enough that I must be successful, others must fail. They must fail substantially and they must hate me for my success.

The smiles of others bring me no happiness. The touch of a lover is not something that can bring me joy unless it is the lover of another person. I couldn’t cover it up any more after that day. I don’t know why I ever tried to. After that day, I spoke up my accomplishments. I would always rub it in the faces of people who tried but couldn’t have them. I turned meaningless grades and tests into my greatest tool. People hated me for it. I wouldn’t have it any other way.  I am a monster like that serpent. We have the same weapon, our cunning tongues. That is my axiomatic truth.

If Zimmerman were justified…

I’m not saying he is. I’m not saying I know what happened. I’m not even taking a side here. But let’s say, it turned out that Zimmerman’s account of the shooting was correct just for the sake of discussion. Let’s say that some evidence comes out that proves he was attacked, and he shot the boy in self defense. What would happen? Would the black community apologize for calling him a racist or claiming he wasn’t prosecuted due to racism? Would Mars Inc have to find another way to market Skittles? Would people stop wearing hoodies?

I’m very much interested in this scenario. People hopped on this thing for justice, what if it turns out he was justified, what would they do? Would the supporters of Trayvon Martin say that the facts are wrong or would they own up to it and just say “We were wrong. Sorry about that, Mr. Zimmerman.” I can’t see them doing that. They’ve invested way too much emotion into this. They can’t backtrack. They would look too foolish. They have to stick with it. I don’t know the facts of this situation. I just know there’s several different stories about how things went down.

One does have to wonder if the facts even matter at this point. It really seems to me like people just picked a side as soon as they heard the case and decided what happened even though not all of the facts are there.

Shame shame!



I watched Wrestlemania 28. I’ve never cared much for the Undertaker so the End of an Era match didn’t matter to me. I thought Cena was going to beat Rock so I wasn’t looking forward to that match. I was somewhat excited for Punk and Jericho but not too much. I just wanted to see Daniel Bryan wrestle! I knew he was going to lose. But at least I could enjoy his first Wrestlemania match! I was looking forward to one thing. Rather I should say, one word! The fans in Miami were looking forward to it as well. Look at all these YES signs!

The crowd wanted this match.

Bryan’s music hit and I got hyped. YES! YES! YES! YES! The bell rang. And then it was all over. This mach ending in eighteen seconds crushed me. I really wasn’t expecting that. I knew my guy was going to lose but not like that. They just completely shit all over him. A man who worked for ten years to make it into that company. A man who put on great matches all across the world. And they have him beat in 18 seconds.

Eighteen seconds. I missed the next two matches. I was still shaking my head at what happened. No. Just no. It wasn’t until Punk/Jericho that I was able to get back into the show. Even after the Rock beat Cena, I was still pissed. How could they do that in a world title match? One hundred days of entertaining promos, matches, and entrances all ended by one Brogue kick. I couldn’t get it out of my head. I tried to make sense of it, but in no way was this a good decision. I just had to sit with the fact that they decided the best wrestler in the world should in eighteen seconds.

They had matches on RAW last year longer than that. They even had a match on Smackdown that went about eight minutes earlier this year. The show was four hours!

I’ve never been a major fan of Sheamus. His character rarely loses. Look it up. This guy has been pinned like twice since the summer. This put me over the edge. I don’t think I can ever cheer for him. He’s my scapegoat for their booking. The cynic in my thought it was time to stop getting invested in wrestling because who’s to say they won’t just do that again. Then the next night on RAW, I heard that one word again at a level I never heard it at before.

It was deafening last night. The fans in the arena booed Sheamus. They cheered for Bryan and they chanted YES! YES! YES! and NO! and SI! It was amazing. Wrestling was fun again. Even though the WWE clearly had wanted the fans to prefer someone else, they couldn’t stop YESAMANIA FROM RUNNING WILD BABY! The crowd was astounding. They gave me hope for wrestling. They made that episode of RAW historic. Lesnar returning was just the icing on the cake. The crowd cheered louder for Bryan than even the hometown hero, The Rock.

That episode made me just want to chant YES! YES! YES! YES! at the top of my lungs.

This article from bleacherreport takes a good look at the Yestival that took place.

Bryan was the most over person in the arena. It might have been for one night only, but damn the April 2nd episode of RAW completely, absolutely DID NOT SUCK!

Eighteen Seconds.

Fans waiting in anticipation for Daniel Bryan vs. Sheamus. The poor fucks didn't know what they were in for.

Things that were longer than the Daniel Bryan vs. Sheamus match at Wrestlemania 28:

The Opening Promo video
The National Anthem
Daniel Bryan’s Entrance
Sheamus’s Entrance
Sheamus’s Celebration
My ragefit after the match ended
The promo for next year’s Wrestlemania
Kane vs. Randy Orton
The Divas Video Promo
The Divas Match
The Divas entrances
Cody Rhodes’s Entrance
Big Show’s Entrance
Cody Rhodes vs. The Big Show
Shawn Michaels’s Entrance
Triple H’s Entrance
The Undertaker’s Entrance
The Undertaker’s Hair
The Cell being lowered
The steaming shit I took after this ppv
The celebration after Taker won
CM Punk’s fireworks
Brodus’s Momma’s Ass
The Funkettes and Brodus Clay Dancing
Machine Gun Kelly fumbling over words
John Cena’s run into the ring
John Cena and the Rock sniffing the air before the match.
The Rock’s people’s elbow in the match.
This blog entry.