SEEING IS

DEAD PRESIDENTS

2012-02-04T20:23:00.000-06:00

Two songs to start 2012

2012-01-29T16:52:00.001-06:00

Foundations

2011-08-28T11:56:00.000-05:00

I grew up watching repeats of The Simpsons at five o'clock. KWKT Fox 44.

Every few years I'll watch some of the older episodes again.

I remember not quite getting the jokes when I was younger—I enjoyed the animation, the characters.

Now that I'm entering adulthood the show has started to make sense.

These are episodes I've seen five, ten times.

And every year, every time I see them again, they seem different.

Yet I know they are the same.

Welcome to davidekline.com.

2011-08-20T10:26:00.000-05:00

I finally bought a domain.

To celebrate, here's some hiphop.

Short Story: Cornered

2010-05-23T01:08:00.000-05:00

He gave himself nightmares.

He woke up and slid out.
His pillows on the floor.
Walked into the bathroom, punched the mirror.
Blood and broken glass.
His head hung low like plastic testicles on a truck axle.
The corners of a smile.

Television images flickering in his braincase. He hummed a familiar tune.
He checked his email.

He wrapped a paper towel around his knuckles, a vain attempt. It soon fell off.

He had woken later than usual. But he wasn't late. It was Saturday.
The house was empty.

Coffee.
He poured some raisin bran.

The computer on the table while he chewed nonchalantly. (He hated that word.)
The corners of a smile.

When he was done he took a shower and sang and hummed and marched and stomped and rinsed and washed.

Drying off but the blood was still coming from his hand.

Saturday.
He lay on the bed again, watching television.

He got irritated; he decided to write a letter.

His handwriting, neat. His style, perfect. His meaning, soon to be misconstrued.

It was addressed to no one and he didn't sign it. It read:
"I love, miss, and cherish you."

Then he scratched it out seventeen angry times and kind of angrily wrinkled the paper up a bit, and then with an escalating quantity of anger burnt the letter with a disposable lighter. He had done this a lot, and the lighter was empty after this time, so he angrily threw it away. The lighter was obviously upset, but was aware of its brevity.

The paper, however, was offended, and would have preferred a recycling process.

The ballpoint pen had no opinion on the matter.

The man, however, was very, very angry. That cannot be stressed enough.

He was always this way on Saturdays. Before he did anything fun he made himself hurt. Then there wasn't any time for fun so he just watched TV. Then that got boring so he would write stuff.

Like this.

He would write stuff like this.

Short Story: Routine

2010-05-02T19:57:00.000-05:00

Cold.

He walked across the stage, to the microphone.

"I'd like to thank everyone for coming."

Later that night.

He unloaded the car, dragged in his bags. Sat on his bed. Jet lag. Head in hands. His fingers running through his hair. Or what was left of it.

He checked the answering machine: no messages. He glanced at his personal cell phone. No missed calls. No unread emails. No texts. He tossed it aside. His business phone was lit up like a Christmas tree and was vibrating itself off the nightstand.

The bed was still in the corner.

He brushed his teeth while reading scribbles on the mirror. More rhymes.

When he got up, he made a phone call. No answer.

He made breakfast. Well, raisin bran.

And he went off to work.

As soon as he got into the office, his staff bombarded him with questions. He answered all of them, nearly. Then he went to his own office and shut the door. He checked his email. Lots of email.

At lunch, he walked across the street with the guys to grab a burger. They all laughed and made small talk along the way. At the table, guys told stories about their kids, their vacation plans, their life. He sat silently, interjecting solely to provide laughs, often at his own expense.

When he got back to the office he ran around, helping people out. He was good at that. He was good at his job.

When he got home, he turned on the lights and everything was as he left it. There wasn't really much to leave, he noted.

Then he got on the computer.

At around midnight, he stumbled to bed.

He lay there amongst sheets and pillows, tossing and turning. He kicked his sheets off and screamed. He punched the wall, and then curled into a ball.

The next day, everyone at work had new questions for him, and he answered them all perfectly.

State of the Person

2010-04-29T20:53:00.000-05:00

I feel like I'm chained up.
Tight collar, back sweating, eyes red, head heavy.
You could cut the chain for me, but I wouldn't have anywhere to go.
Scorched earth.
That's what it feels like.
I guess it's school.
It's not school.
Where to next?

I want to start over.

I feel like everything I am, everything I'm built on, is holding me back. People aren't buildings. We don't need to be permanently attached to the ground; restrained by our foundations. Our foundations are thoughts, not things. Thoughts are easy to move. But, admittedly, difficult to change.

The journey is the reward.

When I don't know how to start a journey, I get depressed.

So I'll sit here, watching television; but, I am not learning anything new.

And that's fine, sometimes.

But lately I feel like I'm on the verge of something big. Bigger than me. And in order to do it I have to throw everything away. This computer. This car. This bicycle. This school.

Maybe that's too drastic.

I have time and money invested in these things. It would be foolish to throw them away. Sometimes we have to settle for "good enough" because if we didn't we wouldn't have the resources to have anything. So starting over is unrealistic.

I don't really know what I mean when I say "start over".

I guess I want my mind to not be shackled to the past. I want it to exist only in the present, because then I can be free. I can do things now, and not worry about the past.

But mistakes haunt me. And define my actions. That's their purpose, after all.

But why do I let things that happened six months ago, six years ago, block new, unrelated behavior in the present? Why am I scared to do things I haven't ever tried?

It's a fear I have to get over.

But in a lot of ways it's comfortable to stay where I am. Some people never grow up. It's easier. If I had stopped development when I was fifteen I'd fit in fine now. Hell, it would make watching Family Guy fun again.

The point I'm making is, I never want to feel like I've stopped learning. I never want to feel like I'm done. Because I never want to be done. I'd like to die right in the middle of doing something awesome. Because to be finished with life, with learning, with growing, with developing, and to wait it out till I die in a home is not what I want.

I think a reason people commit suicide is because they feel like they're done, and don't want to wait it out.

So I never want to be done. Because then I'd be dead.

Steve Jobs said something similar when someone asked when he was planning on retiring. I don't remember the exact quote, but it was like, "Working is my life." He'll never stop. He gets it.

I don't want to settle down. I don't want to become complacent. I want to keep reaching—ahem—for the stars.

But that means that I need to deal with making mistakes. Lots of them. Because mistakes are the best teacher.

So I'm conflicted here, in my current situation: I'm simultaneously struggling with the past, fighting to stay relevant in the present and making an increasing amount of regrettable decisions that affect the future. I guess that's just how it is.

I have to grow up, but do notice that the term "grow up" never suggests a stopping point. It's not like Modern Warfare 2 where you eventually hit a limit. In real life, you keep going up. If you care to.

A lot of people stop.

When you were a kid and you thought about being a grown-up, did you ever think you would stop?

You can answer that.

I'm going to steamroll ahead, and try to learn from the mistakes I'm making—and not feel too bad about making them. And try not to get held back by my possessions, which are sometimes attached to the earth, and difficult to move.

Because a few mistakes that keep me up at night are definitely better than giving up.

New Song

2010-01-22T18:28:00.001-06:00

Short Story: Why Not

2009-12-12T23:25:00.000-06:00

He coughed, cleared his throat, and moved on.

The clerk at the counter looked smug. "You're limited to two boxes of Sudafed," he said, "We can't let you buy that many."

The man was tempted to begin making meth, solely because they had started regulation.

He had a bad view of the world.

He walked back to the car.

When he got home, he unloaded the groceries, two brown bags. The produce would have poked out the top like in old movies, but he didn't buy produce. He only had one mouth to feed.

The television in the living room was covered in dust, the remote hidden in a drawer. His nephews would storm the desk and capture the remote, only to be befuddled by its lack of batteries. He didn't buy batteries. He hated them.

The oven was spotless. He liked food. He was not unique in this sense.

He shut the door carefully behind him, doubly checking the locks. He was always worried he would fall asleep without locking the door. He crawled out of bed in the early night to check. It haunted him.

In morning, the coffee pot would beep and start its usual hissing and groaning. He always made four cups. Always.

The Raisin Bran box would get empty fairly often.

He would often shave before he went to sleep, to save time in the morning. Sleep was like a free time withdrawal unit. He'd always say, "It's quite okay, to get less before day."

Sometimes it would be 3 a.m. and the mirror would be fogged by his breath. He had a dry-erase marker on the bathroom counter and he would write on the mirror, carefully. It rarely made sense. It often rhymed.

He was handsome. His clothes were neatly hung in the closet; shirts always without wrinkles. His bed wasn't big enough for two people.

It was shoved in the corner. Around the feet were books, magazines, a box of tissues, legal pads, eraser debris. He sketched a lot. He liked making comics. He never showed them to anyone.

In a file cabinet on the wall were his writings. They were numerous. Some were terrible. Some were great. He never showed them to anyone.

His computer sat on a large, wooden desk. Its keyboard was well worn.

Some speakers on the floor. They were big. They played things that he liked. He was not unique in that regard.

He was smart. He had degrees. He made a lot of money. He lived alone.

He thought too much.
He wrote too much.
He prayed too much.

He believed in luck for a while.

He had a couple pictures in his desk, of smiling faces. Beautiful, smiling faces. They only existed in two dimensions. They only existed in two dimensions.

He would walk to work sometimes--it was only a few blocks. He would see happy people. He liked to watch their ignorance.

The checks got bigger every year. The writing on the mirror got longer, nastier, messier. It began to disturb.

He walked to the park one day. Looked around at the sky.

He sat down and wondered, "Why?"

He smiled.

Nearing the end

2009-12-06T20:41:00.002-06:00

Christmas break is almost here, and I am only unsettled.

I don't want to go back home.

I like my microcosm; I like my little room full of junk and my bicycle outside latched to a steel ring; and, I like my neat routine and schedule, my to-do list taped to the back of my desk in red ink; I like my stack of textbooks on the floor; my folding of laundry while music plays in the background and I sing along, poorly.

I like breakfast with friends. Lunch with friends. Dinner with friends. Sitting in dorm rooms, awkwardly. The bad weather. The walks to class. The skateboarding late at night; the late at night bike rides. The tunnel to the rec. Basketball at the rec. Programming lectures and falling asleep. Chemistry lectures and falling asleep. Calculus lectures and waking up, if only to be alarmed, and falling asleep again.

My hand hurting from taking so many notes. My eyes red from days spent coding or writing lab reports on the computer. Six empty cans of soda around the room, a coffee pot that is on more than off.

I will miss these things.

Life is seemingly measured out in chunks of meaning; we work for a while, and then we are dunked into a bowl of nothing--we are wasted by this; we are pieces of filet mignon being submerged in mild salsa. We can exist at another level, but every few months, we are kicked out, told to go home--and I go back to a world I no longer feel I can be productive in.

Maybe it will be better, maybe what I've learned this semester will change how I see things back home. Back in Belton. Maybe my new skills will open new doors back home, or at least break some more windows. I don't know.

That's the main thing right now.

If I leave here, I don't know.

There is comfort in knowing, if we recognize we are inherently scared of the unknown. By leaving for Christmas, I am leaving my comfort zone here at the university; I am heading deep into a world that I no longer feel I can be productive in.

In any case, my goal is to make Christmas break as healthy as possible--it's imperative that it is actually a break. In this sense, I would like to not work.

But what do I do for a month?

That is a preposterously long time.

I'm not saying I don't want the break; I do. I'm just scared that I'm going to lose a month, and that's time I'm never going to get back.

Is it bad to be 19 and worried about losing a month of my life?

I know that in a month I can do a lot; I can learn a lot; I can make a difference.

Is it bad that I value my time?

I'm not really sure.

But I do know that Christmas break is at least an opportunity to relax--whether I use it to do so or not.

Hmm.

That speech I gave at graduation

2009-11-10T21:26:00.000-06:00

I thought I'd post this, now that's it's been a while, and people still seem sort of interested in it. I honestly haven't thought about this speech too much since I gave it.

I wrote it one night when I couldn't sleep; I was standing up, hunched over my desk, scribbling on a yellow legal pad. I don't think I edited it at all from the original. I simply typed it up, and submitted it to Mrs. Cook for approval.

I don't really know if I truly agree with the speech or not. I wrote it emotionally. As such, it is what it is.

That being said--I think looking up to Kanye West is, in many ways, a very simple thing to do. Because oftentimes, you only have to look down.

That's not to discredit the point of the speech. West rarely misbehaves because of his job. He misbehaves because of some insecurity far deeper than his career. The point of my speech was that you can do what you love and get paid for it, not to idolize the fact that Kanye is sometimes a jackass.

Anyway.

----------------------------------------------

I remember 2007, and listening to Kanye West’s then-new album, Graduation.

Track one, “Good Morning”:

“Good morning, look at the valedictorian
Scared of the future while I hop in the DeLorean
Scared to face the world, complacent career student
Some people graduate, but we still stupid

Kanye West is an interesting fellow; he is a college dropout. Most rappers never even begin attending college—let alone go and make the conscious decision to stop going.

A conscious decision?
Very much so.

Kanye West dropped out of college to ensure success.
Success in the world of hiphop, where college’s involvement would be like dumping ketchup on an alarm clock, and then deeming the resultant Heinz-Timex monstrosity rather preferable to either component on its own.

Umm, no.

Which brings us back to that verse from “Good Morning”. Mr. West accuses the valedictorian of being a “complacent, career student” that is “scared to face the world.” From West’s viewpoint, the valedictorian guy is a joke. West is doing what he loves—making music. And not only that, he is making dump-truck loads of money while doing so. The antagonized valedictorian, while he may indeed get his own dump truck full of US currency, will probably never end up as happy as Kanye West—because Mr. I’m-Smart will have his nose too far inside a textbook to realize he doesn’t like anatomy. That he doesn’t like law. That he doesn’t like metaphysics.

To someone as pure as West, the career student is laughable. Why would anyone waste time doing something they don’t love? Why give up happiness for money when it’s possible to get happiness and money? I mean think about it—what’s easier: crafting yourself an enjoyable career for the remainder of your life, or working till you drop dead and there’s some more zeroes on the end of that five in your bank account? One of those is easy—anyone can slave away, double overtime, money in the bank, third mortgage, new BMW. But not many can say, “I love my job.” Just remember that money is the variable that could go either way, can happen regardless—but right now, choosing not to do what you love virtually guarantees you are not going to do what you love for the rest of your life. Forever.

Money can’t buy happiness, so plan your investments accordingly.

I admire Kanye West. Because he went against society, and won. Because he does what he enjoys and is still an incredible financial success. Guys, this is what we should aim for. Kanye West. We should shoot for the stars, literally. (Not at, that’s a felony.) We should do what we love and get paid for it. We should ignore advice that is completely contrary to our own life decisions; we should be selfish.

Others don’t admire Kanye West. Because he has an ego the size of this room, or bigger. Because he is completely and utterly selfish. Because he makes distasteful comments about presidents. But what’s wrong with that? That is what it takes to do what you love in life. To believe fully in yourself. To be proud of yourself, and by that measure, your thoughts.

The only alternative to selfishness is selflessness—and guess what? That means you don’t pick. Here, be a mechanic. Here, be a chef. Here, be a movie critic. Since when is getting told what to do an ideal of society? Isn’t this America? Let’s tell selflessness off. Let’s tell it to go away.

Let’s enjoy ourselves, our decisions. Let’s act in our own self interests. Let’s have a toast tonight, to us.

West does that. Money in the bank, remember? Getting the best of both worlds. Love your job. Love your life. Love your paycheck.

Selfishness is the key to this—this leaving high school.

The saying goes, “They’re ready to face the world.”

Guys, we’re on offense.

We’re not hanging back.
We’re a tactical strike, a precision movement.
We’re taking over.

And we’re not letting the world tell us anything about how we choose our lives.

***

Conveniently, track six on Graduation is titled, “Can’t Tell Me Nothing”.

This Kanye West guy, I think he’s onto something.

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© 2009 David Kline

Halfway

2009-10-18T11:08:00.000-05:00

I said this semester was going to kill me; if such turns out to be true, I am now halfway deceased.

It feels good.

My brain, at times, feels as if it's about to burst--I am being tested in ways I never thought possible--I am enjoying my life in ways I never thought possible--I am, in many ways, not happy.

College is essentially high school, but with an enlarged portion of self-importance. College is some kind of pipe dream, something that high school seniors look up to--are scared of. It's not any different, guys. It's a little bit more time-consuming, class-wise--but you aren't going to find yourself suddenly fulfilled.

I reek of hypocrisy.

I am cynical now--in that I know exactly what it would take, what I would need, to be 100% happy with my life. I am stupidly certain of this. ("stupidly certain" could possibly be the most accurate way to describe my life in two words, by the way, haha)

It's this idea I have, that God maybe makes us as perfect as possible, then subtracts one key component, to make our lives a little bit more interesting. For some, God subtracts intelligence. That must be fun. For others, he subtracts common sense. For others, he subtracts identity. And so on. And for some people, he gives them everything but the ability to get along with people.

I have a very small comfort zone when it comes to social relationships. My circle of friends could hardly be considered a circle; it is far from encompassing 360 degrees. It's more like a dozen or less points, scattered arbitrary distances from me, me being in the middle. Haha, I would put myself in the middle.

Point being, I feel like my greatest challenge in my life is going to be dealing with people. The people close to me, the people far from me, the people I care about, the people I don't care about. In many cases I will struggle because I have a hard time facing the people I care about. I don't know how to read people. I don't know when to take risks. I don't know when to just have blind faith. Which I'm beginning to realize is important.

I'm a mess of things; my principle motivation system is based roughly on the following.

Romans 8:28:

"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose."

And, to a lesser extent, Spiderman's uncle:

"With great power must come great responsibility."

An advertising slogan that Audi used at one point:

"Never follow."

And finally this general idea:

"Everything happens for a reason. Pay attention to circumstance." (Thanks, Dad)

So I would say that I live my life morally; I do what I think is right at the time. I feel that if you always do the right thing, things will sort themselves out. You will get what you need. I also believe in the importance of identity--in order to be a successful human being, you need not worry what other people think of you. You need to be confident about yourself; never fake. You should love being you. And you should never follow. And once you get that inner confidence, you should never abuse it. You should never use your inflated sense of importance to hurt other people. (I don't want to admit it, but I am guilty of this... I am sorry. I was younger. I was learning.)

Have you ever felt really bad because of one thing? Whenever I feel like that now, I try to think of everything in my life that has gone right. It goes back to that idea that God builds us, then takes away one vital part, so that we can learn. It's okay to know that we have one big problem, it drives us. It makes us go outside our comfort zone. It makes us learn.

I like to think of life as three L's: learn, laugh, love. Usually you laugh because of how much you suck at the other two. :)

I like to count my blessings sometimes. Because then I feel less mopey. Not to say that I am depressed; I am just perpetually aware of my flaws. My default state is to look at the glass as half-full, as it is more efficient: to single out what I hate about my life is much faster than to list everything I love about it. So in my desire to be efficient, I make myself feel terrible. Neat. Haha.

If you can't tell, college is very much about discovering yourself, and very little about classes. Class is there; it's not hard; it just takes time. What we learn at this point in our life is what we are missing, and what we need to do to get our life to the point where we aren't missing it any more.

I think, anyway.

I have to go study, and hope.

Music in morning

2009-09-13T10:19:00.000-05:00

I made a new song yesterday.

It's called "In morning".

You can listen to it here:

http://www.myspace.com/superjoyluck

I usually make music whenever I need to vent. I've been needing to vent a lot lately; after this, I feel much better. Writing also helps me get things off my chest, but writing can never be as raw as a real voice.

I made the beat in Garageband. I didn't compose any of the musical bits; Garageband simply allows one to arrange loops of prerecorded music in the desired fashion. I think I used 3 or 4 drum loops and then 3 or 4 vibraphone loops to make this beat. (The loops come with Garageband, like a little "loop library". You just move them around on screen and decide how it should line up.) I'm still learning a lot about what I can and can't get away with in terms of repetition, simplicity, length, etc. But if you listen to the songs I've made previously, there is a definite progression. I'm getting more comfortable.

I also did something weird, in that I tried to do a chorus, but ended up making four different choruses, that all kinda suck. I actually wrote the choruses out, in an attempt to be all master planner and stuff. Heh. My singing is still terrible, I'll admit, but is it at least more bearable?

As far as the rapping, I pretty much winged it. What I have done in the past is actually write out lyrics, pages of them. This nets one "clever" rhymes at the expense of saying things one otherwise would never say--for proof, check out my other songs, "Friends" and "10 Feet Away". The majority of content in those songs was only generated so it could be a "cool" rap. And it's not even that cool.

So for "In morning" I decided I wasn't going to write any lyrics. This is a blessing, and a curse. A blessing because it lifts that stupid curtain of "I'll say that 'cause it rhymes" and a curse because freestyling (i.e. to ad lib) a rap is rather difficult. I'm getting better, but it's still extremely challenging.

Some insight: I say Xbox in what I believe is the second verse. Why I said it? I was recording and I thought, "Oh crap, I'm out of things to say!" so I did a desperate search of the room, and saw the Xbox. So I started rapping about Xbox.

Then I repeat myself a few times, quite a few actually. That's another problem with freestyling: you can get kinda stuck on certain phrases, as if they're comfort zones or something. I said "too many instances" in both the first and second verses. That bugs me.

But, another problem with freestyling is if you like 70% of it, you don't really want to do any more. Because you could try and write it out, clean it up a little, and rerecord it, but then it will come across as forced. At least I always thought so. And then if you try a new freestyle, you end up losing a bunch of good material.

So what actually came out as the "finished" product is about 70% was good as I wanted it to be, because I freestyled. It's irritating, but acceptable--I'm just doing this to vent, after all.

Speaking of that, the three songs I've made so far where I actually rap--"Darkside" is an instrumental I made in 2004, and threw up on the Myspace for fun--"In morning" is the most truthful, but all three--"In morning" + "Friends" + "10 Feet Away"--all have a common theme--relationships, whether they be friendships or something more involved.

Its ultimately interesting because while the three songs seem so similar, they represent three different instances in which I put myself in the same problem--they are not three songs concerning one experience; they are three songs concerning a number of experiences.

So in doing these I keep revealing to myself that I put myself in the same situation every time, and act surprised when I get the same results. The path to change is change, not repetition of failed experiments.

And so, maybe after three songs and several years, I'm ready to be over my insecurities. I'm ready to try something new.

Only problem is, if everything is going well, I probably won't make any more songs.

Development of musical skill through suffering just seems so proper.

But hey, if misery can work, happiness can too.

David Kline

Day One

2009-08-31T21:39:00.001-05:00

Hello.

This is me decompressing from my first day of college.

Read on, if you feel so inclined.

I tried to make it somewhat readable, but no promises. =]

Breakfast

- Frosted Mini Spooners

These are the off-brand version of the popular Kellog's Frosted Mini Wheat. I find them 80% as satisfying for 60% of the price. It's a fair trade off. Of note: I use 2% lactose-free milk, more on what happens if I don't later.

- Maxwell House Dark Roast Coffee

It's cheap, comes in a blue container, and my grandparents drink it. Obviously, this is the choice for the modern college student. Especially its blue characteristics. Of note: I use International Delight French Vanilla creamer, about a 70/30 coffee/creamer mixture. Black coffee is a facet of grandparent living that I am simply unwilling to transition to the college experience. I want to live cheap, but not that cheap.

Morning

- General Chemistry for Engineers

My professor wrote the textbook, and made 3 references to said fact within 15 minutes. Other than a little pride, which is healthy, he seems promising. Fingers crossed.

- Engineering Math III (aka Calculus III)

We started almost immediately with three-dimensional planes, things like find the distance between two points in 3D space as well as 3D vectors. I've run into some of this before, in AP Physics C, but a lot of the material was new. I was one of the few freshman in the class--I skipped a full year of Calculus because of the AP Calculus BC test--so it will be interesting to see how I do. I'll do my best.

That brings me to an aside: pressure. Not force over area, not physics, just, pressure. On me. Assumptions. There's a reason the first three letters of "assumption" spell "ass". Because in order to make an assumption you must first be an ass. I know this from making many assumptions, and seeing the responses they ignite. Ergo, allow me to act wise here. Please.

Anyway. A lot of people seem to think I'm smart--cool, nice, I appreciate it. But don't call me a genius, please. I know it's sort of complementary, but it's also sort of a misnomer. I don't just "get" stuff. I have to work for it. I do what I do in school because I disappear for a while. Because I give up basic social interaction, because I give up being able to talk and have a good time. To call me a genius is to say that I don't need to be a reclusive bastard, and that makes me mad. Because I do have to be one. I don't like it, but I do.

My goal this year is to balance some things out, so that I don't have to be a jerk. I'm tired of it, quite simply. Have I been doing a good job? You tell me. But I don't want to be cocky, I want to be approachable. Not an open book, that's a bad way to be, but a book that doesn't bite back like that one in Harry Potter.

I need to talk sometimes, and the internet seems weird, but feels good. I don't like to talk this much in person. It is a lot of time talking about oneself, which, in the company of others, is rude. Which I'm trying to get away from. Or maybe I'm wrong about that. Shrug.

Lunch

- Sbisa Dining Hall

I had some pizza, I think it was sausage-pepperoni. It was good. And a Diet Dr Pepper. Bad habits die hard. Let me give up some more critical stuff before I give up my caffeine, haha. Of note: I saw that Sbisa serves cereal during lunch. Of course I needed some of that. Got some Fruit Loops. Issue: no lactose free milk. I said whatever... now my stomach hurts. Or, it did. Then there were these really weird noises and the pain went away. And now my room smells. At least it was all audial/nasal feedback. Could be worse?

Afternoon

- State & Local Government

The professor was really funny! Rude! But funny! So that was fun. I'm glad to have at least one entertaining professor. As far as the class goes, it seems like it won't be too bad. Some reading, but at least there is no final. :)

If you read carefully, you'd have seen I only went to three classes today. That's because I have two labs on Monday, but they were both not scheduled today, thankfully.

After class I went over to Ben House's dorm, read a chapter of the chemistry book, and helped him a little with his calculus homework. Then we went for a bike ride, and randomly met up with Matt Johnson. So he joined in, we rode around some more, then locked up the bikes to play pool at the Commons.

I played one game--and then realized--I'm exhausted.

It's been a long week, leading up to this.

I'm exhausted.

So I went back to the dorm, took a shower, and ate.

Dinner

- Hormel Ready-to-Eat Salisbury Steak/Potatoes

This was actually pretty good. It's not frozen, it just comes in a tub. Slit the lid, nuke it for a minute and a half, good to go. I had the swedish meatballs one the other day for lunch, it was really good. I think these have Ramen beat.. but they do cost a lot more.

- Easy Mac

I haven't had this for probably five years. It's not really very good. Probably won't buy any more. I dunno why, but it's just not very satisfying.

- Cherry Pop Tarts

Dessert. Only the finest. And yes, Mom, I did have Pop Tarts for dinner. Deal with it!

Night

I am. Extremely. Tired.

You can probably tell, because this Note is pretty boring.

I'm sorry if you read it all.

To make up for it, I'll give you a quick laugh.

HOWDY!

I'M DAVID KLINE, AND I'M THE LOUDEST AND PROUDEST MEMBER OF THE FIGHTIN' TEXAS AGGIES' CLASS OF 2013!!!!

AAAAAA!!!!

Err... yeah.

I sit & rot

2009-08-04T00:21:00.001-05:00

I'm sipping decaf. I've come full circle.

I started drinking coffee for the caffeine. Not because I wanted to start caffeine--because I already had, and a Mountain Dew in the morning as I was so accustomed began to seem uncivilized, despite its dew premise and such a fitting connotation. Got tired of the fizz.

That leaves tea, or coffee. Considering the country I live in, tea would be daft.

In the morning, I tip the Nestlé French Vanilla creamer bottle into a Harry Potter mug, dump in the ambiguously South American coffee, and relish in the United States' inability to accept certain, let's say, facets, of world culture. We take the Harry Potter, but not the tea. We take the Brazilian ethanol concept, but apply it to a country that has no such infrastructure. We take the "French" food, but not the politics. I once said "Renault" in the presence of others of similar age; drool production had to triple to account for seeping losses. French cars, it seems, were more tea than Harry Potter.

Caffeine and cars, David. Good work.

My only goal this summer was to watch every episode of British motoring program Top Gear. I can now say, I have seen all 112 episodes. They run an hour long each. Four and two-thirds days of my life are now locked in to that show--and to the British version of English. I figure I watch it fifty percent for the cars, twenty-five percent for the rants of Jeremy Clarkson (look him up, he's my hero), and the final twenty-five percent for British English. The way they speak is so different from United States' English. I find it fascinating.

If you want examples of British English, use Google. Look up "chuffed". (It sounds worse than it is.)

Continuing the theme of passivity, I finally played, and beat, the campaign mode in Epic Games' Gears of War 2. The video game was released November of '08. I'm a little "late" on that one, then. My brother must have had it finished in days, where I took months. I have spoken with others about this; they all say, "About time!" Well, let me talk a little bit about time.

Until now (as in this last week) I haven't had time to play that game. I literally haven't. During the autumn, winter, and spring I was working 14 hours a week, going to high school, and studying. People always ask why we have textbooks--it's just so I can read them, that's it. They're for me. Yeah. So I was busy.

I'm not trying to sound pompous, I assure you. I simply find time a strange concept. Six months wait for a video game is entirely reasonable for a person like me. I like to do things. Get my hands dirty, whether it be in the abstract or the practical. Calculus for breakfast and engine rebuild for dinner. (Usually skip lunch, time is of the essence.) To sit and rot (aha!) in front of a television screen clutching a white, Microsoft controller--that is characteristically un-me. I could be doing something seemingly more productive.

But in my mind, November 2008 was yesterday. It wasn't like I was sitting in a darkened room for eight months, going, "Can I play it yet? Can I play it yet?", but more like I was in a semi-lit room for eight months, room being faintly illuminated due to the fact I was on fire, screaming "Stop! Drop! Roll!", and bouncing off the walls. It went by with little regard to gaming. It's a messy metaphor, I know. But the simple fact of the matter is that those eight months went by like a second. I couldn't have possibly played Gears of War any sooner.

But did those months really go by in "like a second"?

Time is a silly animal.

I always laugh at people that say something went by really fast--e.g. high school. College. "Enjoy it," they say, "because it will go by faster than you think." I'm going to go out on a limb here, and say "NO" to that. Hear me out.

Everything always seems fast or easy after you've done it. Man climbs Everest. Takes months of planning and training; it is dangerous and expensive. Gets back to the office the next week--"So how was it? Was it hard?" someone invariably asks. "Oh, it was great! I'd do it again!" he replies.

Well, shit.

It wasn't easy when he was planning it. It wasn't easy when he almost died of *insert applicable hazard*. It wasn't easy, ever. It took a lot of hard work to climb Everest. It was a serious undertaking in every imaginable way--but something about human nature makes us incredibly, stupidly proud of our achievements--so the man leaves the office that night, having convinced the middle-aged secretary that, he too, could scale Everest. "It was easy," after all.

I consider this trait akin to sex, in that it can have untimely consequences, but is ultimately necessary for the survival of humankind as a whole. For everyone who dies of AIDS, some staggering statistic of children are born in yuppyville and grow up to inhabit law offices and hospitals. And similarly, for everyone who overestimates their exploring ability due to post-facto, secondhand bragging and dies hiking, seventeen new galaxies are discovered and named some alphanumeric string. It's just the way the world works.

But back to time and old people. And their stories. I want to say something, before I get to that "In Memoriam" age--nothing goes by fast. We think it does, but it doesn't. Time is a sweet, sweet mistress, that seduces us into thinking that four years of high school just "flew by". Hey buddy, it didn't. Remember sitting in English class watching Hamlet: The Movie for a week straight? Remember Spanish class? Remember Geometry? Tell me that flew by.

We just think it did. It's hereditary.

It's a natural defense mechanism--when our children complain about school, about growing up, about the world--we can tell them not to worry--because it'll "just fly by".

I won't admit that. I'm going to tell my kids life sucks, and Spanish class especially. But heck, the sooner they get it done, the sooner they can tell their kids that it'll fly by.

And then they're even.

240SX

2009-06-12T21:47:00.002-05:00

Heading out for the Texas Nissans meet with my brother riding shotgun.

High School

2009-05-22T17:08:00.003-05:00

What we did in school today:

Jeez, graduation can't come soon enough.

New Song

2009-04-18T21:00:00.002-05:00

I made a new song, it's pretty amusing

www.myspace.com/superjoyluck

It's '10 Feet Away'

My attempt at hip-hop. Laugh at me; I don't care.

But it's out there. Have a listen.

Knock You Down

2009-04-13T22:20:00.001-05:00

The future

2009-03-24T20:45:00.002-05:00

I can't wait until we start saying "twenty-ten" and "twenty-eleven". I cannot wait.

I'm tired of this "Two thousand and - " bullshit. I want "twenty". I want the future.

I remember like kindergarden, I was confused, they taught us numbers. 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10. But if it was 1995, then 96, 97, so on, what would happen after 1999? I didn't know. I was confused. Instead of figuring this out, asking, I forgot about it, until 2000. And then I was like, filin' that one between N and P. Y'know, "Ohhhhhhhh."

Now it's like 9 years later and I'm about to graduate high school and shit and I cannot wait for when we start saying twenty-ten.

Because that will be the motherfucking future, ya dig?

I can't wait. I want it to be 2020, like the news show or eyesight test result. But the year dude. The year 2020. Z33s and JZS160s will be like $5 and stuff, and I'll have a real job and family.

And since I was born in 1990 I'll seem ancient to my grandkids in like 2060 or whatever. It'll be rad. "YOU WERE BORN IN THE 1900s?????!?!?" And I'll say, "Yes." And then they'll see my crusty 240SX in the garage and ask me what a turbo is. And I'll hop off my walker and do a big fat burn out with middle finger out the window in the middle of retirement village.

Gonna be epic.

Gotta go do some homework now.

Filter > Add Noise

2009-02-06T22:24:00.006-06:00

p.s. yes i took cell phone pics and then made them even grainier in photoshop. why?

because i can.

2009 is about, BECAUSE I CAN.

Getting gas

2009-01-18T23:52:00.001-06:00

Making progress towards God-knows-what.

2009-01-05T23:40:00.004-06:00

MB Wheels Battle in 17x9.5+15. Wrapped in Sumitomo HTR+ 235/40/17.

Riding on Stance GR+, S14/Z32 5 lug, and Z32 calipers/ebrake.

Car has come a long, long way.

Engine runs great. That pic of it is a bit old, as I've now switched back to the OEM clutch fan since it looks cooler.

Yes, I know.

What have I become.

Good for Business

2008-04-14T21:27:00.000-05:00

It was cold out this morning.

Pretty nice. Except we had to scrape the ice off the Land Cruiser's windshield before we could leave for school. And I was frozen: all my jackets are currently at my mom's, leaving me, at my dad's, with nothing but a t-shirt. Living in two houses kinda sucks.

But overall, pretty nice.

I figured out some things today I think. Maybe not. Class started out bad enough; Ms. Fox took a good thirty minutes to get the Chapter 34-36 tests copied and handed out--test wasn't too bad, except the last few, which I presume she covered in class discussion--I probably missed them: I was in ISS for three days and she sent me no notes. But overall, it was like any other test in there: pretty nice.

Mrs. Fasolino moved me to the front in English today, that was the only reason for the switch--the whole spiel about the French exchange students needing space was a sham. She just wanted me up front for disciplinary reasons, OK, fine with me. But it's so obvious: she moved us back one--I was in back, thus I moved to the front--so any group of people who talk in class were essentially held together, just shifted. So I moved to the front.

I noticed something rather funny in Mrs. Bowen's class today: in a somewhat vigorous manner she wrote down the names of people who weren't doing any work--or at least that's what I presumed she was doing. My first-hand source proving something along those lines was Josh Leazenby, who said Mrs. Bowen was upset by the laziness of his class period and was thus taking the offensive. I suppose. Didn't bug me. I do my work. Then I play Tetris on my calculator, which is likely both the nerdiest and suckiest way to play Tetris. On my mobile phone, I can manage a good 500 or so lines before my hands cramp up and the screen gets too small; on the TI it's a struggle to break 50 lines, every damn time. Calculator buttons are just too unresponsive.

I suppose I'm the only one who would care about that kind of shit, whatever. I don't have much else to do in that waste of a class.

I think being in ISS for three days affected my Pre-Cal education, because I've been struggling a bit, more so than usual, to get things. I think I've got it figured, but we'll see tomorrow. I keep making mistakes on stupid algebra; I would've thought I had it solid now. Oh well.

AP Physics B makes me laugh sometimes. I was gone for four class days (ISS = 3, UIL band = 1) and I still managed to make a passing grade on the last test. That makes me think--what did we cover those four days I was gone? Most likely, not much at all. Hmm, that could be a commentary on the quality of our instructor... har har har. I guess we never actually do anything in there but tests. That being said, some of those kids in there talk way too damn much for their own good. So it's not just the instructor.

I probably sound like an elitist snob, but I assure you, I am.

After school, Collin came over and he and Alex and I went on a 13-mile or so bike ride around town. 121 to 190 access road to Wheat Rd to Sparta Rd to Lake Rd to 121 and then home. Fun stuff, I guess. My bike is a complete joke though. 10 year-old mountain bike with a frame size for someone 5'2" or something. Seat is all the way up and it's still a pain. Yeah, not working out. I need a new bike, only decision to make is whether or not to get a full-out road bike or a hybrid, so I can still hit the trails out at Stillhouse and elsewhere. Not really sure what to get.

I feel like taking my car apart again, and redoing it. I guess I get bored. I'm already planning out the next step, just gotta get a job and start saving I guess. Stupid cars. Well, stupid me. Other people don't find endless fascination in stripping their cars down and rebuilding them. They just, well, drive them. So yeah, stupid me.

I don't really get why I'm writing this, just seems like a way to wind things down after a day like today. I've been a little preoccupied lately, so cutting the clutter of the daily nonsense seems to give me some more space to think things out. Feel like I'm writing a damn diary entry, what a joke, hahah.

Yesterday was Mitchell's birthday, so dad, my stepmom, and I went out to visit him in College Station. We went out to lunch at a Japanese restaraunt and did the hibachi thing, where the thick-accented guy makes your food on a grill in front of you and tries to burn you to death with fireball-producing oil. I was the lame kid who ate with a fork, but oh well. I find it ironic I'm one-quarter Japanese and don't know how to use chop-sticks, but I've decided I have no aspirations to act outwardly Japanese. Being a Texan pretty much overrides anything else I think. I really enjoyed the meal, though. It was a lot of fun.

After eating, Mitchell showed us his senior design project in one of the engineering buildings at A&M, which I found interesting. I think it'd be fun to work on the kind of stuff that was floating around his computer engineering lab, but I still remain noncommittal. I honestly have no idea what I want to do.

I've been listening to MSTRKRFT lately, you should check them out on Youtube or their Myspace or something. They've got a pretty interesting sound going, like "almost-music". It's like Justice but even more on the edge. Justice are a better group musically speaking, but there's something appealing about the stripped-down, staticky, vocoder-infused junk flying out of the speakers when MSTRKRFT is spinning. Like the music sucks, but who cares. It sounds fucking rad.

I think I'll end it here.

Overall, it was a pretty nice day. And weekend, for that matter.

Progress smiles on the beholder

2007-12-23T00:08:00.000-06:00

Hot Fuzz is amazing. So damn amazing.

Daft Punk is pretty nifty too. I've heard a lot of good things about them over the last year or so... finally decided to get a hold of some of their work. Still working my way through Homework, but so far so good. :)

The 240SX is going well; it has an engine in it now.

It's been in place since November... I just haven't had the time to get it going because of school. The good news is it's Christmas break and I'll have some time to get some quality work in.

Reflections on Sophomore Year, Belton High

2007-06-10T00:21:00.000-05:00

Maybe writing this will make me a better person. Or, decrease the likelihood of testicular cancer. Either way, I win.

...

First Period
Mrs. Holmes
Pre-AP Chemistry

This class was irritating. It consisted of Mrs. Holmes saying something, no one listening, and said non-listening people failing the tests. Which, of course, were always over what we had learned four weeks ago and were no longer working on. Then someone would say, "Balls." Or, "That's bullshit." Honestly, what the hell? Then they'd be like, "Oh dear, I have a 63 in this class!! Mrs. Holmes is a shitty teacher! OMG!" Then I said something sarcastic and no one cared. It was brutal.

Second Period
Mrs. Kaufman
BCIS I

This class was easy. I didn't do anything but log on to Texas Nissans, Zilvia, and Ziptied. That and Tetris. I always got the feeling Kaufman was trying to 'cut a deal' with us, the class. I guess that's what coaches do. But she was a cheerleading coach...? Maybe those girls have it hard after all. Hope they don't lose, then they'll need a new coach. Oh wait. Nobody cares about cheerleading. Let's go hire a new football coach instead. Pwned.

Third Period
Mr. Killingsworth
Concert Band

Y'know, I like concert band. I get a chance to do nothing and have the honor of being in the Marching 100. OMG!

Fourth Period
Mrs. Ramirez
Pre-AP English II

This class was a challenge, because I had the task of trying to maintain the same level of sarcastic bitchiness throughout a full 180+ days of school. But I did it. :] When we actually did work, it wasn't bad, really. Stupid movies were entertaining too. Homies! Mimicking the teacher was cool. I did that for about half the period once. I guess she just thought ignoring me was the best plan of action.

Lunch
Commons/Large Practice Room

We had a table in the commons, but one day we went to sit down and it wasn't there. Fcuk. So we went into the "drumline room," a.k.a. the large practice room. It was always entertaining, and Collin's Gatorade caps created a legend.

Fifth Period
Mrs. MacEntire
Pre-AP Algebra II

I HATE THIS CLASS. All we did was do easy work. Then the fags in the class would whine about shit. LAME.

Sixth Period
Mrs. Brooks
Pre-AP World History

Everyone made this class out to be difficult. It really wasn't. It was enlightening to a certain extent, at least. I liked it when we did discussions, mainly because the irritating kids knew that if they tried to say anything they'd be laughed at. So they shut up. I really hated the presentations, however. I always got stuck with a moron and got an ugly grade. I also never prepared for any of it so I improvised and looked like a fool. Still ended the year with an A though!

Seventh Period
Mrs. Hunter
Spanish II

Sooooooo easy. I never really had to think at all.

...

So my year was irritating but relatively easy. It started out much better than it ended up in many ways but vice versa in some cases. Life is like that.

Anyway, that was a waste of time.

Taking one for the team.

2007-06-07T18:42:00.000-05:00

Hah, haven't done this little deal in a while. My official explanation is that I'm busy, but others would have to say I'm pretending to be busy. Hey, it's summer. I get up at one and stare at my car for a while then go right back to sleep. What else is there?

Speaking of that, the CA18 is actually getting rebuilt. The block is off at the machine shop right now. I'm planning on bringing the head in soon. Hopefully the car will be running soon. I'm getting anxious to drive the damn thing. In August, I'll have had the thing for a year. And I've spent more time in the engine bay and underneath than I have in the driver's seat.

The sole exception is when I was installing the brake booster. I spent about an hour laying under the steering column trying to turn a box wrench 1/8 of a turn at a time. Maybe it's time to get some ratching wrenches? Hah, no. That would be far too easy, am I right?

I'm also beginning to question my part choices right now. My car is going to be GAY, hahahaha. Oooh, quiet exhaust! A-pillar guages! Side mount intercooler! Meh. Form over function is just so much more badass. Maybe my shit'll be more ghetto after driving it a while, like it should be. A clean S-chassis is like a V6 Stang--where the hell is the fun in that? Come on!

But I'm ranting. Apologies all around. Maybe when I get shitty fitting aero and an SSAC fmic I'll be cool again. Until then, I'm a gay high school 'tard who plays e-thug.

Represent!

p.s. Sport Max's??!?! THREE INCH LIPPPPPPP

hahahahahahagagagaghahagaah

One good reason for no updates:

2007-03-19T22:25:00.000-05:00

Nothing's really changed.

The car is going along fine. We painted the engine bay with Rustoleum, no drama there. Been busy reinstalling all the crap we took out of the thing. Spring break we accomplished a lot of things, but we're still pretty far away. I want to have the car running by May at the latest, so things have to start happening pretty quick now.

School is interesting, to say the least. It'll do I suppose.

David

Quitting's for quitters.

2007-02-03T00:02:00.000-06:00

I honestly haven't been up to much lately. Kidding, kidding.

As you all know, the motor is out of the 240SX. I've been squeezing in some work time here and there, but not too much has happened since we pulled the motor.

First off, I removed the CA18DET's exhaust manifold to take a look at the turbo. I had noticed earlier that it appeared to have not been clocked as it should have been. (When running the SR20DET T25 on the CA, the compressor housing must be clocked to clear the exhaust manifold). The guy in Japan who installed it just cut off one of the outlet holes entirely, as you can see here:

And he butchered the hot side outlet:

He also cut up the inlet for the air intake tube. The replacement from the blown turbo is pictured for comparison.

So, I opted to buy a blown turbo for the parts that were damaged and replace them.

The blown turbo:

Last night (Friday) I spent a good two hours making a tool to release the snap ring that holds the compressor portion of the turbo to the center section. Tomorrow, I should be able to release the damn thing and get it apart. The tool I made was originally a crappy pair of needle-nose pliers—I cut off the tips, bent then to make "claws," and then used part of an old bed frame to make extensions for the handles. Now, I didn't have any power tools at my disposal (hack saw FTW) so I'm extremely sore. But worth it? Yes. I did buy a set of snap-ring pliers from O'Reilly Auto earlier this week, but they're too weaksauce to take apart a turbo. :(

Last Saturday, one week ago, I went to Budget Pick-N-Pull in Belton. While at the junkyard I was able to get some good deals.

Uncracked dash (which was a pain to remove)—$15:

Electric radiator fan—$10:

I picked up some other random stuff there too. But all in all, I did well. Now to find some power steering lines and a gauge cluster...

And this is what the CA18DET looks like right now... it's awaiting more parts:

My dad's house also made progress and is looking pretty good:

I've got Solo & Ensemble for band next weekend, which I'm honestly not looking forward to. Ensemble? Check. Solo? Not so check. But we shall see.

Thanks for reading.

The motor is out.

2007-01-21T19:21:00.000-06:00

Pictures can be seen here.

240SX Overview

2007-01-21T08:41:00.000-06:00

Small changes I suppose.

2007-01-15T21:43:00.000-06:00

In case you didn't notice, I changed the title of the site and domain name. I didn't like the name I had before, so I apologize if it was bookmarked and the new name threw you off. I made a few changes to the template; let me know if the fonts are too small or anything like that.

David

+1

2006-12-27T13:46:00.000-06:00

Everything seems to be in order for the 240SX, and I leave you with this:

(click image to enlarge)

It (finally) begins.

2006-12-10T21:36:00.000-06:00

The CA18DET has been ordered from Jhot and is on its way. It'll probably be here tomorrow.

Also planning on getting some other parts soon:

Buddy Club Spec II
Project Nissan Down Pipe
Intense Power Dump Pipe
Catco 3" Hi-Flow Catalytic Converter
Koyo Aluminum Radiator + Koyo cap
Zirgo 14" electric fan w/ thermostat
ARC SMIC
Nismo FPR
Walbro High Pressure Fuel Pump
HKS Type-0 Turbo Timer
Ziex 512 (205/55/15) tires mounted on the teardrops
Autometer boost/fuel pressure gauges
Circuit Sports inline water temp. sensor adaptor (my car came with the gauge but not the adaptor)
DOHC power steering lines and tachometer (damnit I've gotta find a chuki in a yard soon... or maybe a part-out)
other stuff like water pump, thermostat, belts, hoses, etc. AND a million other things I'm probably forgetting...

Then it's time to start the swap. :)

I also decided to clean out the garage even more. I've spent a total of TEN HOURS cleaning the thing. It's now ridiculously awesome: full 8 feet of work bench FTW!

"Knock"

2006-12-06T22:51:00.000-06:00

Brake ahead.

2006-11-10T22:25:00.000-06:00

I put in about forty minutes of "quality" time into the car after school Thursday. I decided to check the brakes for fun, so I pulled of one of the wheels and had a look around. I also put on one of Mitchell's wheels—which I actually kind of like—so I'll talk to Mitchell about them. If I end up using them they will be painted gray, so don't worry about the clashing shades of white or anything. They're 16x7 +40 all around I think, so they may be a little sunken... We'll see...

And if I am able to use the wheels, this a hopeful photochop of what they will look like:

In other news, I've seen Borat twice now. "High five!"

The House, as seen through the crazy dream world of a camera phone.

2006-11-05T23:00:00.000-06:00

...a basketball.

2006-10-11T23:02:00.000-05:00

David Zucker is my new hero—Airplane! and this?!

P.S. I made this. :D

Doodles #1

2006-10-09T19:51:00.000-05:00

‽

2006-09-16T21:55:00.000-05:00

That, my friends, is the interrobang. Enjoy.

Snakes on a Blog

2006-08-23T23:19:00.000-05:00

Snakes on a Plane = the best movie ever. Let it be known, then, that I saw it the Saturday after it came out and proclaimed its coolness before anyone else in the high school. Let it be known.

Another white car.

2006-08-04T23:21:00.000-05:00

(click to enlarge)

It's a 1989 Nissan 240SX SE with 208,000 miles. The motor's bad, but everything else is good. Got a pretty good deal on it too, only $500 and the interior and everything else is in great condition. The guy I got it from said he listed it in the classifieds yesterday and it sold today! Right now it's still sitting in Killeen about 20 minutes away from my house, waiting to be towed home tomorrow. I think I'm gonna get a nice new CA18DET to replace the mal-treated KA24E. The deal with getting the car is that my twin brother was handed down my dad's old 1984 FJ60, and my parents told me they'd match the value with my car. The FJ is worth around $4,000 tops, so I've got $3,500 to spend on my car to get it running and safe. Better get my license and get started. :) (Probably not much time for anything else now.)

P.S. Sorry for looking sleepy in the pic. My dad closed the shutter before I knew what was going on... heh.

I can't wait to get started...!

Learning the animated GIF; still learning to cartoon.

2006-07-25T22:38:00.000-05:00

Started with a copy of the Dave Chapelle show on DVD, ripped the scene with Handbrake as an .avi, converted it to an iMovie friendly .mov, added subtitles, saved, opened in Quicktime Pro and saved as image sequence, resized with Automator, booted into XP, animated as a GIF and finally saved and transferred back into OS X with a memory stick reader.

Latest photochop:

Suzuki Forenza (aka Chevy Lacetti, the "Reasonably Priced Car," in this season's Top Gear.)

Before

After

(click images for magnification)

Yes, that is an R34 conversion. :D All the grey lines were done by hand with the line tool. I was planning on ricing the car out from the start, and couldn't figure out anything more ricey than an R34 Suzuki for JDM d0riFT0 tyTeNEss. Hehe.

Damn AE86's, A Confusing Line of Nissan's, and RHD?

2006-07-18T16:21:00.000-05:00

The 1985-1987 Toyota Corolla Sport GT-S costs way too much. I can't afford it, and in all practicality, it's a 20 year old car. So, I started looking around for a newer, cheaper, RWD car — and I found one. The Nissan 240SX:

The top model is the three door hatchback, whereas the bottom is the two door coupé. Those particular models are based upon Nissan's S13 chassis, which was their cheapest sports car sold from 1989-2002. The S13 was marketed as several names around the world. In Japan, the S13 was offered as both a coupé, and a hatchback. The coupé had fixed headlights up front, and was branded as the Nissan Silvia. The hatchback had pop-ups and was called the 180SX. Both were introduced in 1989 with a 173 hp 1.8 liter turbo-charged straight four known as the CA18DET. When they brought the car over here in the same year, they dropped the turbo charged motor because insurance on it would have too high for their target market, and put in a 145 hp single overhead cam straight four, known as the KA24E. They also opted to replace the fixed headlights on the coupé with the pop-ups from the 180SX and branded both cars (the 180SX and the pop-up nosed Silvia, both featuring the KA24E) as the 240SX. In 1991, the CA18DET was replaced with the then-new SR20DET, 2.0 liter, 205 hp, turbocharged straight four — but in North America, the 91' and newer models were given the KA24DE, a new dual overhead cam version of the KA24E. Many 240SX owners opt to replace their KA motor with the SR20DET as it makes more horsepower in stock form and has more aftermarket support. Others opt for the high-revving CA. Some people turbo the KA, but most KA's have over 200,000 miles and would need a rebuild anyway, so they'd rather buy a Japanese motor.

I have several goals, of which possibly none will be accomplished, but here they are anyway:

• CA18DET
• RHD (Pointless, complicated, and impractical conversion, but cool nonetheless.)
• S13 Silvia conversion
• White, with GANSTA TITE CARBON FIBER STICKAS YO

Just kidding. :)

It's just a tad subjective.

2006-06-21T01:01:00.000-05:00

Cars

2006-06-13T17:17:00.000-05:00

Two relevant car stories, one concerning the popular Pixar Animation Studios film, the other concerning what I shall be driving and working on for seemingly the rest of my life.

Cars, the movie, was good. Better than I thought it would be, as cars seem like a hard thing to turn into a suitable replacement for a human being. But it worked, and a 911 does fall in love with a race-car, and that's that.

The other car, the more important car, is the subject of my thoughts right now. I have several options here, but A) no sports-cars and B) no domestic's. I'm not a GM/Chrysler guy, period.

What I'm currently looking at now is the Toyota AE86, known here as the Corolla GT-S, a rear-wheel drive sport coupe/hatch known for its drivability and poise. (Not brake-horsepower. It has 112.) You probably know it as the Trueno, Sprinter, or some other variant. I believe it was in NFSU2 as a Corolla, so there ya go. It was also in Gran Turismo. Anyways, it's a rare little car (the hatches are impossible to find around here), but it's fairly cheap compared to *ahem* some other people's cars— about $3500 for a decent one.

The reason, you see, that I want this auto is that I want something to do. Working on a 'Yota that's been out of production for 19 years and that no one knows what the hell it is: priceless. It'll give me something to do, while you drive your fucking Jeep Liberty.

Have a nice evening.

608 Cliff Drive

2006-06-05T22:10:00.000-05:00

Coming March 2007.

Bloody miser.

2006-06-01T18:10:00.000-05:00

General Update:

• As of 31 May 2006, Belton Super Wal*Mart is verified to have at least (8) white Nintendo DS lites in stock. The launch date is technically 11 June, but screw the technicality. Wal*Mart can do whatever the fuck it wants. Also: (2) Xbox 360 premiums were in stock as well.

• This is going to be my next R/C. Then probably a TLT/Pede/Bruiser hybrid. That'll be a fun build. The one there is from a guy over at R/C Crawler.

• I've gotten stickied over at Ultimate Traxxas in the E. 'Pede forum concerning the Jato wide conversion. This is how my truck looks right now.

• This is probably the sweetest Bruiser ever. And it only costs $830!

• My very own Mantis has been looking very photogenic as well.

• Top Gear is the greatest show ever. Can't wait till Monday morning for the BT widescreen rip. :D

• The MacBook Pro's screen crack is completely normal to me now. Even if I'm watching a crappy show like American Dad on it.

• I'm still in love with this desktop I made a while back:

• Dudley called. I don't have to go to graduation. (Umm yay for being in concert band.)

• Speaking of concert band... *sigh*

• Last day of school today. Now it's boring summer.

Radio control fun.

2006-05-27T13:20:00.000-05:00

Lies.

2006-05-01T22:33:00.000-05:00

Been reading To Kill A Mockingbird lately— great book; however, the whole first-person tense is irritating. Nowhere near like a first-person videogame. The problem is, I'm not a girl and the "I" is. Very distracting; third person limited would be much better in a novel like this, although the style would be sacrificed. Alas, I ramble.

These past few weekends have been crazy. I'm back into R/C, my Traxxas Stampede has been running well lately with the Novak SS5800, yet I yearn for more power as a mere human. I've spent God-knows-how-much bringing my two cars back into circulation (maybe $100?) but it's been worth it. It's so relaxing to have something to do actually.

I also had band auditions, managed to do well. Several projects, had a symposium on whether or not videogames corrupt people, it ran 40 minutes and Mrs. Boren was very pleased. Also my abilitiues as a blogger were horrifically stunted, yes yes? The crack in my screen is less distracting now, school sucks even more, and I have a scavenger hunt for biology due Wednesday.

Bland update, maybe a video for you guys sometime. (That is if Videoegg releases a Universal Binary of their uploader or youTube decides to stop being completely gay.)

Either would suffice.

Pushing the limit.

2006-04-14T18:26:00.000-05:00

Sorry for the delay— I've been busy getting set up on my shiny new MacBook Pro (2 ghz, no less). This equates to: the transfer of RSS feeds, bookmarks, video, and documents from my old rig, the installation of Microsoft Windows XP, no doubt with the help of Boot Camp, of which I owe deeply for its native ATI drivers allowing me to play Half-Life and F.E.A.R., and finally the wonderful experience of this:

Yep, that's my two-week-old MacBook Pro's screen. And yes, that's a crack. A real, OMGWTF crack in the screen. It happened last night — I was editing together a montage — and iMovie HD crashed. I lost an hour of work, so I yanked my earbuds out, punched the desk, and stormed the room. Here's the good part: when I yanked my $9 pair of earbuds out, they swung across the desk and smashed into the MacBook's screen. Not even kidding. Ten seconds of being frustrated = cracked screen on a computer that cost more than some people's car. I was deeply upset— I just made sure to stay away from the computer while I had my iPod on. Who knew? So I'm not sure what to do now. It's pretty distracting, and they'd have to replace the whole display to get rid of the problem. I don't even want to know how much that would cost... At least you can still use the computer— I admit I'm glad my earbud hit there instead of the middle. Either way, it's going to cost me selling my soul again to fix it if we decide to go that route. I just ponder, am I the only retard to have this happen or what? *sigh*

ZOMGWTF H.R. 4437!!!1!!!1

2006-03-31T20:52:00.000-06:00

Protestors often show an alarming lack of knowledge over what exactly they're protesting— take, for example, the The Border Protection, Antiterrorism, and Illegal Immigration Control Act of 2005 protest and its relatives. The high school had a great morning today; the majority of the Mexcian (gomgomgom don't call them "Hispanic") students were parading around the campus, proudly displaying Mexican flags, face-paint, and green T-shirts— I laughed at first. Then I realized these kids had no fucking idea what they were talking about.

Let's analyze, shall we? The point here is not to describe the whole situation at hand, but to give insight into a very specific event that happened at my high school today regarding H.R. 4437.

H.R. 4437 is a relatively complicated issue for some (read: most) of the illegal immigrant population, all eleven million of them— and they're not all Mexicans either— some are German, some are French, some are Canadian. It's not a personal attack on the Mexicans as some would say (very liberally they say this). The bill:

- Requires up to 700 miles (1100 km) of fence along the US-Mexican border at points with the highest number of immigrant deaths.
- Requires the federal government to take custody of illegal aliens detained by local authorities. This would end the practice of "catch and release", where federal officials sometimes instruct local law enforcement to release detained illegal aliens because resources to prosecute them are not available.
- Mandates employers to verify workers' legal status through electronic means, phased in over several years. Also requires reports to be sent to Congress one and two years after implementation to ensure that it is being used.
- Eliminates the Diversity Immigrant Visa program.
- Prohibits grants to federal, state, or local government agencies that enact or maintain a sanctuary policy.
- Incorporates satellite communications between immigration enforcement officials.
- Requires all United States Border Patrol uniforms to be made in the U.S. to avoid forgeries.
- Institutes a timeline for deployment of US-VISIT to all land-based checkpoints.
- Requires the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) to report to Congress on the number of OTMs (Other Than Mexicans) apprehended and deported and the number of those from states that sponsor terror.
- Formalizes Congressional condemnation of rapes by smugglers along the border and urges Mexico to take immediate action to prevent them.
- All illegals before deported must pay a fine of $15,000 to the state in which they were apprehended.
- All children born to illegal immigrants in the United States will become wards of the state.
- Requires DHS to conduct a study on the potential for border fencing on the US-Canadian border.
- Sets the minimum sentence for fraudulent documents at 10 years, fines, or both, with tougher sentencing in cases of aiding drug trafficking and terrorism.
- Establishes a Fraudulent Documents Center within DHS.
- Increases penalties for aggravated felonies and various frauds, including marriage fraud and document fraud.
- Establishes an 18-month deadline for DHS to control the border, with a progress report due one year after enactment of the legislation.
- Requires criminal record, terrorist watch list clearance, and fraudulent document checks for any alien before being granted legal immigration status.
- Reimburses states aiding in immigration enforcement.
- Housing of illegals will be considered a felony and subject to no less than three years in prison.
- Allows deportation of any illegal alien convicted of driving under the influence (DUI).
- Adds human trafficking and human smuggling to the money-laundering statute.
- Increases penalties for employing illegal aliens to $7,500 for first time offenses, $15,000 for second offenses, and $40,000 for all subsequent offenses.*

Notice this: It absolutely does not say anything in here about "Mexicans losing their freedoms" etc. etc. The problem is, all of the Mexicans at school are taking this as a personal attack, and saying that the government "is out to get them" and "my mommy is going to be deported" and everyone is pretty much buying into their bullshit. Read over the bill, do it. Come on. The problem is that most protestors have no idea what they're talking about.

My Spanish teacher, Crystal Wiley, has said this repeatedly: the only reason our Mexicans in BHS are doing this is because Temple's Mexicans did it, and Temple's Mexicans did it because Dallas's Mexicans did it, and the pattern goes on, leading right back to real protests, not high school kids waving flags and talking about Jumping Whitey— it's disturbing in its insanity, honest-to-God. I'm shocked that someone as "learn-ed" as the Mexicans make such a valid argument: Brain Tetzlaff asked one why they were protesting, and they said, "OUR FREEDOM!" And I laughed— everyone did. They're free. They're in America. They're an empty body to fill with the protest of the week, a useless shell of a person with no desire to truly form an opinion, and they expect us to act reasonable for it— we have some retarded people here, folks. And I'm sad to say they're from my high school and they managed to organize a rally with the press, cops, and everyone doing nothing seventh period— at best, they've managed to be real good skippers. *sigh*

I'm way too tired to keep thinking about this, honestly. I planned on going on much longer, but it's just hard to form coherent thoughts right now. I think I may watch the local news tonight and see if they actually air footage of the official rally organized by the prinicpal, and what exactly they say— it's going to be interesting, that's almost certain. 20/20 is on now, talking about the issue: may watch some of that. Oh well, here's nothing. Hope it wasn't boring, my myriad of readers.

*Source is Wikipedia, where it's flagged for "needs citation."

Less schoolish matters.

I'm still planning something big and new, but there was a delay that I couldn't control— a shipping delay. So stay tuned, hopefully I'll have time to finish this off next week, but homework is pushing me to maybe next weekend. Yikes.

The execution of arbitrary code.

2006-03-30T21:53:00.000-06:00

I've drawn a startling parallel between myself and a computer: the execution of arbitrary code. As the nerdy so well know, arbitrary code is code executed (run) for the heck of it— no point except to make no point. Operating systems have weaknesses which can be exploited in order to do such things, such as the rootkit fiasco Sony started in November or a typical XP virus— running code the system is not necessarily meant to be run to get somewhere. This is exactly how our weaknesses as humans come into play: we all have our weaknesses, we all have our desires and dreams. It's human nature. But: others exploit us, like a computer virus, using our weaknesses to exploit our weakness and run their own arbitrary code. It's a rudimentary conclusion, but the nonetheless an important thing I realized: just so much as hackers work hard to crack Sony's PSP FW v2.60, other less obvious people work hard to run this "arbitrary code" on us. It's startling that I had to draw a parallel with computers to get this point across to myself, but its the way I think— no matter how twisted it is. So I'm off to be exploited like a dirty little rootkit. :-D

The pre-U.I.L. band concert was tonight; it went desperately okay, as interestingly worded as that sounds. Tomorrow is going to be the fun day, that's for sure. I've got a lot of stuff coming up to be working on, and I'm excited. Finally ditching this creative block (ahem) I've been having a while too. Let's just say: no more progress bars saving Photoshop documents from now on... (Pending it arrives tomorrow as planned.) Hopefully I'll have something up this weekend just to give you a preview on what exactly I plan on doing. And yes I'm happier than a lottery-winning drunk.

Determination vows "considerable."

2006-03-27T22:52:00.000-06:00

I was determined to not make a new post unless I had successfully purchased a MacBook, as sort of a weak attempt at strike, which had the considerable effect of making me extremely thirsty. The computer, I suppose, is simply a mythical object, shrouded in mystery "like the sun" and sadly lacking in "OMG I EXIST" department. My arrogance deceives me and you win, MacBook Pro. You're ugly, harsh name and stunning factor have done me in—

Enough of that.

The Holy Grail aside, my legs hurt. Hurt as in stiff. Hurt as in the only thing I can do is sit around and play Xbox— damn-I'm-cool-right-now. Hurt as in why does Austin Park 'n' Pizza have such tiny little go-karts. Hurt as in hurt, misconstrued, indescribable hurt. So hurt I sit here, often not smiling and not making happy comments about your earrings, sad one. Hurt as in the burning of a thousand babies — oh wait that's laughter — nevermind. Speaking of such, What's the difference between a baby and a $20 bill? [Pause here to think, please. -Ed.] ...I've never thrown away a $20 bill before.

Had a test today in Mrs. Allen's, woe upon me for the dark sin I hath committed, for cheating hath not taketh place upon this day, but failure hath, and my words are like a ribband around a velvet slipper, without a point and without a single place to attach to, oh, woe, upon me! Mercutio deserved not to die, for he was without fault, for he was the one who had been of intelligence and smug arrogance— my hero.

Did I mention we're reading Romeo and Juliet in English? Enough of that.

I've gone and downgraded my PSP's firmware again to v1.5, as you can see in my screenshot*; it seems I'm going to stay there a while. Only legit 50's like me still use v1.5— you're a legit retard if you use v2.6 and play Splinter Cell. Legit back-ups FTW!

Oblivion is mind-numbingly awesome.

* I apologize for the black line, it seems my PSP capture tool is not particularly the best... Oh well. Oh yeah and I blurred out the MAC address. Why? Because I'm paranoid.

Praise the Lord.

2006-03-23T20:39:00.000-06:00

My hard drive successfully mounted in the G4 tower— the enclosure was bad, not the drive, so my legit backups (roflcopters) of Futurama are fine, along with Family Guy, House, and 24. Yayness. I've also managed to drool more about the MacBook, but the thought of actually ordering one then waiting 3-4 weeks for it to get here makes me sick. I wants it now, damnit. Oh well, just a material thing. Not something worth freaking out about.

The PSP's price has been knocked down to $199, but a cost: 2.61 firmware. That means no homebrew, no emulators, and no downgraders. Stupid Sony— the only thing I use my PSP for is Nintendo emulators, and blocking more homebrew only alienates the community even more. There's no way I'm upgrading past 2.0 now; our friendly neighborhood hackers over at PS2NFO will just find more ways to work around firmware restrictions, and I find myself disgusted because I have to update to 2.5+ to player Daxter, or pirate the thing. So I have no choice— it's a situation I don't like to be in, but oh well. I can't bring myself to upgrade.

Oblivion seems to be the new "it" for Xbox 360, so I'm looking forward to getting my hands that pretty soon, but the idea of Alex and I fighting over it seems to be pretty disconcerting. It's already a big enough problem to share as it is, let alone share a game like Oblivion: it's an obsession. So here we come painful sharing. Let's do this in style.

I have a speech to give tomorrow in Comm. App., it's pretty much going to suck but who cares. That's the only thing I have to worry about right now, and it's a distant way off— almost.

Half-Empty

2006-03-21T22:34:00.000-06:00

I've been in an ugly state these past few days, often wondering exactly why school exists for any other reason than to make me crazy; its boring and cruel disregard for intelligence is forcing me to sleep in class instead of learning in class, and I'm fairly certain that I missed something — the ability to be smart comes with the ability to be ignorant — and I'm left somewhere in-between, thinking about the things that drive me to happiness and the things that drive me to anger, typically in the opposite order stated above. My brand-newish firewire hard drive, for example: it no longer seems to want to mount, so I'll be forced into a situation of anger and hate due to the fact that updating from 10.4.3 to 10.4.5 while it was plugged in totally obliterated my data, of which I hadn't backed up yet. (I didn't have anything to back it up to, for one thing.)

But evils, necessary as they may be, still push me to what Kali so eloquently describes as "my man period," of which I honestly hate— I hate hating, I hate writing about how I hate hating, and I honestly wish hating was less hateful so I won't hate myself nearly as much when I hate on other people. Oh bloody well, mate, 'cause it's not going to change anytime soon, for me at least— I've got many more people to mistreat, in some valiant effort to prove that I'm useful, and not a worthless slob incapable of gathering the motivation necessary to read a book and take a drivers' test, because I'd rather have a new computer to play with. The people I choose to take on are not the weakest, but the middle-class of the social structure in school, insecure in their friendships, moods, and dress. They're the vulnerable ones; they're the ones to bully if you have to bully, because they get hurt the most, and take it the most personal— easy targets with ripe rewards, and, once, again, I find myself hating what I write and how I think once more, but who cares. It might be all a charade for all I know.

Just realized:

2006-03-18T19:08:00.000-06:00

Google "decline1."

My Xanga is the first hit. Heh.

Enough remodeling, I'm moving in.

2006-03-18T17:34:00.000-06:00

I think I may have managed to fix this template into something I like a tad bit more— my apologies to the original creator,
Dan Cederholm, but it's pretty much open source right? Heh.

Oh well. I'm off to playing Halo or something.

For Shame

2006-03-17T21:53:00.000-06:00

I feel cliché in going as far as bashing Myspace again, but such a useless service seems to spur anger in my soul, which is typically happy and sterile. It crashed Camino. I wanted to actually use it for once to look at someone's profile, and I'm greeted with the astounding, shocking event: crash and burn. Myspace's servers are what? Ten year-old Texas Instruments laptops? Come on. I know you have 1234123452345 users, Mr. Myspace, but so do Maddox, Amazon, and eBay. Get the picture. Make your site usable, make it something worthwhile, block slideshows directly embedded in the profile, block video, block music. Personality may be "cool" but it ain't at the expense of saneness everywhere. So I move to Blogger, free, fast, and with a focus on something that could lead to somewhere. Plus a widget so I can post from Tiger's Dashboard. Yayness. So this rant ends.

Spring Break saw the family going to Houston, half the week at Lauren's, half the week at the Mercer condominiums— another typical trip, with the exception of an exciting visit to Body World at the Houston Museum of Natural Sciences, and I can attest that seeing a skinned man in real life is about as gruesomely disgusting as it sounds. I can say without a doubt now that I have seen, in person, a man holding his heart in his hands, conveniently skinned and kneeling for my viewing pleasure. Disgusting, is it not? They didn't let me take pictures either. Darn.

I'm still trying to figure out how to make my own template for this site. I feel like making a real web site sometimes, but the realization of coding makes me tired. So, let's code for something that's slightly easier! I think I may just poke around in the code of a template and change some of the colors/images/etc. I like the look of this, but not necessarily the color. Black and white would be much better.

MacBook Pro's are insanely, disgustingly awesome. I love them. I want to mingle with them. They pwn you n00bs. I saw them at the Galleria's Apple Store— I think I'll order one now, despite the hissing core, flaming MagSafe's, and bright strip on the LCD. Screw Rev. A "curses." I also want to boot XP on them so eventually I'll be able to play some games. Right now there aren't any driver's for the ATI GPU in the Mactel's. Half-life 2 soon though, soon. Then maybe F.E.A.R. I could always just tempt myself to World of Warcraft too, but $15/month is too much to get banned for using a macro keyboard. Stupid Blizzard and their virtual dictatorship.

I guess it's too bad I really can't get a MacBook Pro... yet. :-D

These times, they change.

2006-03-12T17:20:00.000-06:00

It's typical me: off to a new blog, disgusted by Xanga's immaturity, and quite frankly still hating the hell out of Myspace. It's only purpose is to give our friendly neighborhood pedophile a hang-out spot, having been banned from the local Ben & Jerry's and desperate because no one under 13 goes to Starbuck's, and that's the only place within walking distance from his job in a faceless corporation where he might have the chance of glimpsing something he deems interesting. Myspace= teh suck.