07.25.02: Fuck Heidegger. I'm done with him for quite a while. I think I'm going to spend the bulk of my remaining time in graduate school trying to find alternatives to the Heideggerian system. But, alas, that would still be myself obsessing about good old Martin.

I've come to my wits end. My Berkeley project is late and shorter than required. If you enjoy a subject, graduate school will ruin it for you without fail. I think I'm developing carpal tunnel syndrome.

I have recently received some strange hits from search engines. Per usual, I get about 30 hits a week from some angsty teen typing "fuck the world" into Google. But recently I have found responses from the terms "she kicked my jaw," "wisdom tooth hydrocodone" (op. cit., my recent oral surgery) and the band name "System of a Down" (who, by the way, should give up now; their last album was not even good enough to use as a coaster).

I informally applied to write reviews for FloridaUnderground.net. The application consisted of a cursory email and the acceptance was two lines basically saying "Sure, dude." God, I love the internet. Now if only there was a way for me to crack into writing for The Onion.

I'm writing this right now to avoid re-reading the A Treatise Concerning the Principles of Human Knowledge looking for any use of the word "number" which will give me one or two more good holes to fill about five pages. I'm going to be up all night.

I got an email from Lisa. I wish I could just forget that people as amazing as her exist; it would be much easier on my mental health to do so.

I'm moving out of this money sucking pit of despair known to most as an apartment complex. All of my contact info is about to change. My email will remain the same, however, so contact me there and I will send off the new info. Perhaps one night when I'm drunk and not thinking about consequences of stupid decisions (next Tuesday sounds about right) I might post all of it up here. Will he actually do it? Stay tuned to find out . . . *cue suspense music*

My phone will not stop fucking ringing. Perhaps it was unwise to pay the bill last month. Every once in a while there is a worthwhile call, but it barely compensates for the fuckers trying to get my money (whether it be creditors, salespeople or charities).

I'm going to rip all of my hair out. It will take roughly two weeks due to the excessive amount of hair I have on my head, but a decent strategy like pulling directly from the roots might help cut that down to a two night process.

I think I'm going to see Tomahawk in a week or so. August 2nd, methinks. Orlando, FL: oranges, Disney and fucking tourists. New York has a way of dealing with tourists with muggings and murders. Florida has not caught on to such a sophisticated system yet, but perhaps I will spearhead the process. Go home! It's too fucking hot for man and/or beast down here, unless you're nocturnal like myself.

I could market a ten page booklet on how to deal with graduate school which concentrates mostly on proper firearm maintenance. I can call it "Academic Suicide." It would probably sell better if the term "for Dummies" was in the title, but alas I think I'd get sued. They can have all $7 in my checking account.

A lot of corporate scandals. A lot of people surprised. A lot of people need to be emailed a friendly note from yours truly stating something to the effect of "I told you so." The only proper attitude in this climate of corporate greed is to FUCKING GIVE UP ON CAPITALISM. I doubt Paul O'Neil could a) get his head out of his own ass quick enough or b) stop stuttering long enough to get out these few pithy words of advice. But, alas fair reader, if you are surprised about CEOs caring more about their own pockets than the people who spill their sweat and blood to make them rich, perhaps the best course of action is to move out the rock you've been living under and read a bit of Marx. Or Baudrillard. Or Adorno. Or Marcuse. Or Foucault. Or the liner notes to a Dead Kennedys album. I could go on like this all night, but I think you get the point. The only way to get rid of the cheaters is to get rid of the cheating system. There is no such thing as an honest capitalist, just as there is no such thing as good nu-metal album, or a bad Mr. Bungle song or the Easter Bunny. They're all fictions invented to keep your faith in the system that exploits you. So, you can keep your faith in the system: land of the free, home of the slave. Or, you can get an AK-47 and join me in the revolution. Beware, Fleet Bank: you're first.

On second thought, perhaps some good will come from these corporate investigations: the destruction of AOL. A lot of you are going to be learning to use UNIX soon.

Back to work. I have a lot of pages to read and then regurgitate back into different words by tomorrow afternoonish.

07.24.02:

07.18.02: Working on this stuff. The draft is almost done. I still have some changes to make by 5 PM tommorow, so I'll be working all night tonight on it. No time to post now, but I will later.

07.01.02: I have not yet begun to write.

The manuscript is finished. By "finished" here I do not mean to state that there is nothing left to do; I have plenty of revisions to make in the next two weeks. However, I have it at a point now that the changes to be made are minor.

I had a productive and cordial meeting with my major professor. Either he is coming around to the way I think or he has given up hope on me. I'm not quite sure which. But, our meeting has put my mind at ease. I have a subtle state of euphoria having finished the draft. Granted I will most likely look at this wo4rk in a few years and drive myself crazy thinking about how wrong I was. Like Jean Paul Sartre who once faced with a quote from Being and Nothingness in an interview remarked how he couldn't believe he once wrote that crap.

My Girl is back in town. She had left for a month, but she just called the office to tell me that she was on the way, so I must cut this post short. Lots more time to write now that I have this behemoth out of the way. I still have that 30 pager on Berkeley to write, though. I will keep you updated.

End transmission.