Trials in a semi-silent room.

I am sitting in a room with no other sound in it but that of a frustrated middle aged man talking on his cell phone. Every word he says bounces around in the solitary silence of this study area. as a rough estimate i would say that 90% of everything he is talking about is completely self centric, and the other 10% is all his Californian valley girl-isims including "oh, my gosh" and "are you serious?" etc. all pronounced with a slight lisp. But you have to understand that this is not a normal "are you serious?" its the kind that you hear lame-shopping mall chicks saying when they discover that their favorite body works store just ran out of their favorite body butter. If I were facing this man I am convinced that I would have seen little scandalized hand gestures and rolling eyes. For the sake of all that is good in this world, you are a middle aged balding man! Please immediately desist your self-centered conversation or take it to the ladies room or where ever it is that you use facilities! To make it worse, he has been whining for the last 1.5 hours and venting the deepest laments of his shallow heart in a completely audible decibel level in this silent study area! In the midst of studies I cannot help but feel sorry for this deranged soul. After the first hour I began to doubt if there was anyone in the world who would actually put up with this kind of one sided phone conversation; there were no silent spaces in which another party could interject with soothing anecdotes of happiness and joy through trials.

Trials in a semi-silent room.

大統領

This will be my second birthday in a row spent in the Japan Alps. Really nothing to complain about, in fact, its great. Today I had a chocolate cake covered in choco-peanuts (the best thing about Japan, in my oppinion). It read "Happy Birthday 大統領"　(president, thats what they call me)Not only that, but I had a Japanese style yakiniku barbeque (way better than American burgers and crap) and I was surrounded by sweet people. Tomorrow (which is my bearthday) I will be heading up into the Alps on a 3-day backpacking trip with the other staff at Northstar. We're going to eat Japanese noodles, scout some climbing spots, do some inniciative games, sleep in tents, I'll get some more experience guiding, and everyone will go home happy...unless someone dies.

Since last I bloged many things have happened: my brother Ryan got married at Takayama in Sendai (best place ever) I dont have any pics but my sister does. You can check her thing out at roberry.blogspot.com. It was pretty much the best wedding ever. A lot of work, but a lot of fun. And seeing the fam again is a rare treat. Why don't we live closer together anyways? I mean really; Colorado, Washington, California, Japan, and Oregon---not exacty right next door to eachother. But I guess thats how the cookie crumbled.

In other news, it looks like I'll be climbing Fuji a few times this summer, which will be great. All together I think this summers going to be one of the best.

outa here suckers!

Alas my friends, the time is nigh for another “I’m leaving the country” post. The past six months have been spent living in America. Six months is a new record for time spent living in America since I was 13, and I have to say, the experience was…average. In retrospect there was much skiing, much working, much acquisition of worldly outdoorsy goods, surprisingly little time spent being a student (Community College seems to have made a whole new definition for the term “full time student”), a fair amount of time spent on familial engagements, and little time spent doing things with any manner of people that could be called “friends”. Unfortunate as it was, forgoing friendships and all things meaningful that I had developed in my life in BC was the only way to have direction in my life. You see, I have this thing; its like when your pants are on fire and your underpants are filled with red ants and lobsters—its like that. Only all the time. The burning drives me forward constantly so in reflexive action to the fire, red ants, and lobsters I run franticly forward in a randomized and erratic pattern. But in the process I seem to shake off many dear friends. And it saddens my heart greatly to shake off more again. There are three things that humans were never meant to experience: death, disease, and farewells. Unfortunately all are an inevitable part of our futile existences here on planet “Global Warming Will Kill Us All”.

Anyways, I’m off to Japan tomorrow (Thursday, June 14th) so I wish you all many babies and flowery cakes. I will be in Japan working as a guide in the Northern Japan Alps and Mount Fuji with Northstar Outdoor Adventures again. Should be a pretty good time. I’ll be in J-town until late August sometime.

On a lighter note I came up with an idea that seems to support reincarnation. Here’s the idea:
1. If a person hits his head, his memory can be lost or altered forever. He might not remember his name, how to do simple math, or even how to speak. He will not remember who he is married to, who his family is, nothing. He will have to relearn everything.

2. If a person hits his head, his personality can be altered forever. His wife will claim that she doesn’t know him any more, he will be more aggressive or less ambitious, the chemicals in his brain will have changed somehow so that the person you formerly knew as John is now gone and replaced by this new person.

Conclusion:
The soul has no memory or personality in and of itself. If memory can be altered with relative ease by inflicting damage on the physical brain, who would disagree that brain is the only part of a human that retains memory? And when that memory retainer is altered or ceases , there is nothing to fill in. Similarly, if personality can be altered simply with a hammer, does this mean that the death of the brain is the true end of a humans personality? In this argument one could conclude that the soul retains neither memory nor personality; it is simply that which is necessary to provide life, and that which leaves when the body ceases functioning. So if the soul leaves at the time of death (as seems obvious that it does) then where does this life-giving, but impersonal force go? Would it not seek out another creation to give life to? Hence, reincarnation.

Seems to make sense eh? It almost makes too much sense. I haven’t been able to find a counter argument yet. Let me know what you think though, I don’t like that philosophy at all and I want to be rid of it.

library skylight

Sitting below a large opaque skylight in a library I was typing at a computer tending to my extremely dull homework. The skylight that spanned most the way across the library ceiling suddenly got dark and as though an angel accidentally stabbed his sward into the thin canvass of the heavens, the reservoirs from above gave way—each drop of which could easily be accounted for as I heard the deafening droplets assail the foggy skylight. The sound commanded my attention and I looked up. And I thought of you suddenly, are you in the rain? Where had you gone? People, when they go away leave at least some indication of where they are going, but you have departed in silence; silence that speaks in the rain and now deafens me. Do you rise with the sun in the east or glide on the waves of the air? Teach me, teach me how to live my life! A cold draft wrapped itself around my exposed ankles, had that draft always been there? I couldn’t remember. With as much might as with it first began, the deafening barrage of rain stopped, the skylight lit up once more, and I looked around the library expecting something to be different from two minutes ago. But everyone was busy with their computers focusing on some mundane assignment. No, nothing had changed. Nothing perhaps except for me.

paradoxical

There are those people I occasionally meet who are paradoxical to me. We all know that horrible experiences screw people up; parent dies as a kid, abuse of some form or another, overdose of some form or another, and BANG you’re one messed up kid. Its typical for these people to live in gutters or just have a lot a baggage that they carry around. This is normal. But have you met those who have had horrible experiences (horrible enough to warrant a minimum of 10 years of gutter living) and yet somehow seem to over come? These are the paradox-gems. I have met only two such paradoxes (the first one I assumed was an anomaly, but the second time around can be no coincidence) who live with such joy that it literally blows me away. I stand and watch them astounded at their interactions, inspired by their love for people, dumfounded by their wisdom, amazed at their selflessness, and I am left mouth agape seeing these people in light of their past. What great hurtles were overcome and what great wounds healed for this person to stand in front of me now? Confounding. These incite my greatest curiosity and my most profound admiration.

Tell me, what do you know that I don't, what power do you posses, what hidden truths discovered? How do you smile with that glimmer in your eyes and wide genuine smile. Paradox, what has experience taught that you to live so richly.

Or could it be that deepest suffering is the cornerstone of truest life.

open hand

I went out to the woods to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practice resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartanlike as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness out of it and publish its meanness to the world; or if it were sublime, to know it by experience...
- Henry David Thoreau

To experience life, it must be lived with an open hand. There is no sense in holding onto something tightly when it will be taken anyways. Instead we must live here, we must live today free of fear that limits our potential, free of burdens of yesterday. We must live life with an open hand for that way the adventure is greater and life the sweeter. Time should not be wasted holding onto that which is unholdible or protecting that which is to be taken at any time-catching the breeze is impossible. Haste, haste life and never forget its urgency and never become complacent. For now is all we have.

Cherish yesterday, dream tomorrow, live today.

It is not a long life I ask, but a full one.

e-mail to a friend

---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: Brent Potter
Date: Wed, 4 Apr 2007 00:09:25 -0700
Subject: My friend
To: Kim Manchip pinto_girl@hotmail.com

My dear friend. You are sorely missed.

You have been an inspiration, a light, and an example. I have stuck in my mind that game we all played in Leavenworth when we stood across from each other and looked in each others eyes in uncomfortably close proximity--conveyor belt style. I remember your eyes clearly. I recall a distinct memory of the light in them, of deepness, of wisdom acquired by experience. It was out of admiration that I made fun of you for washing old people's naked bodies--and to enjoy it! What humility, what desire to bring hope to hopeless elderly! And that is what I admire most about your life--no matter what you did, you focused on others almost to the point of fault. I knew with 100% certainty that no matter what kind of situation I got myself into, no matter how far down I fell, no matter what I did, you would help. And you did many times; you continue to through your memory. You would notice what people like me did not see. Its like that one time at Wendy’s remember? On our way back from some trip. We were hungry, smelly, and I was broke. You "lent" me money (though I did not ask and was in fact outside at the time) and you refused to accept repayment later. It was the same with using your car, and same with lending out equipment in the back country. It was the same with everything you had--you would give it out freely for anyone to use. I wont forget our experiences, swing dancing on the beach, cooking buddy's on trips (we made wicked food...but always too much), skiing, you making fun of my tight yellow goretex pants (you even made fun of them in your last email to me!), hot tub parties, Italian pasta at your house (again, enough to feed a small
country...and delicious), Humpy your miniature humping dog (strangely attracted to my and James' leg), your excellent songs (you never did give yourself enough credit for how good they really were), we were even on the same group for hell night I remember when we were both freezing and traumatized, huddling under the one sleeping bag after the medical drill; we told any story at all to get our minds off the cold.

You were there from my very first trip in OL through to the GOSE. And I'm there by you in the pictures still--frozen in time with blissful smiles live with cheery expressions. My favourite pics are the ones where we’re jumping off the cornice and the dancing on the beach at the Olympic Peninsula. Damn it Kim, you had the most beautiful smile that would shine with love on all people you would talk to; but not only a smile, a genuine desire to get to know, to genuinely understand and appreciate those you would come in contact with--with no discrimination. I am left perplexed, vexed, astounded at how it could be that you, Kim, so beautiful by all standards, someone who the world desperately needs should be taken in an avalanche whilst the rest of us commoners live on to live out mediocre lives. Goddamn it Kim! You were going to get married to James, have a family in BC; I was going to have a family god knows where, and our kids were going to play together as we hung out drinking coffee and pretending to be adults. My wife would talk to you about how stupid I was, and you would talk to her about how stupid James was. How can it be that we should be allowed to live and you are not? Perhaps heaven itself could not wait long enough for your scheduled arrival.

I remember one of the quotes you told me, "I am only one tree in a forest, yet I am still one tree". People are always saying that they can’t do anything to change the world, they don’t have the resources, the don’t know the right people, dont have enough money--BUT I am still one tree. Because I am a person--that is enough to make a difference. Another thing you would quote all the time, "Ask not what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive... then go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive." I've wondered Kim. I’ve wondered about why you were snowboarding up there that day, and how everything would be different if you had only taken the second helicopter and not the first. I've been wondering about the hazards of anything outdoor related and what good can come out of it. I've been thinking that maybe all these risks we take pursuing vain activities in the outdoors aren’t worth it when there’s so much wrong with the world. But you were doing what that quote said, you were doing what made you come alive and by doing so you made the world around you come alive. That was the experience for me, and no doubt those up there skiing with you. For one tree in a forest Kim, I don’t think you could have been done better.

Tears cannot express how much it saddens me to send this email knowing that it will go to your inbox never to be read. Instead it will eventually be deleted by your inactive account; its storage space to be recycled for a new hotmail subscriber. You've no idea how much I regret never sharing my admiration of you while you were still with us...though I am not yet fully convinced that you are not. You lived for others and never grave yourself enough credit for all you did. I will remember you Kim, your smile, our trips, your dog, the songs, the quotes. I strive one day to talk to people as you did and to genuinely love them as selflessly as you did.

My dear friend, you are sorely missed.
I anxiously await our next meeting, days or decades from now. I await the day when we will sit down for a cup of coffee and talk about the good old days while pretending to be adults.
How I wish you'd reply.
Your friend forever,
Brent

You can read about what happened to Kim here.

a funny joke

A string of simple words is enough to completely expose goals as irrelevant and disarm ambitions--it is enough to expose the dream of modern society as the most dangerous joke ever to be entertained. And it is a joke.

We spend our lives yearning for more when there is happiness to be found in so little. We spend our lives clobbering over others attempting to prove ourselves in the social hierarchy; we belittle, we compete, and we go to any deceptive or honest means to obtain coveted superiority above another human. This is the American Dream. Are we content with the knowledge that there is so much suffering and that we, the fortunate few, the "brave" individuals we would all humor ourselves to be, spend our days flying off ski jumps, sitting in class rooms, or working in a cubicle?

When I was in elementary school I was taught about the horrible, horrible slave trade of the 1800's. I learned about the underground railway, people who risked everything to smuggle fugitive slaves to their freedom. When I heard the story I knew that had I lived in those days, I would have been part of the underground railway. I would have stood up for what I believed was right and put everything on the line to prove it. What my teachers forgot to tell me was that slavery is still happening, and that even bigger world issues exist. Even so, we turn a def ear to it in order to blissfully live out our lives. We dream of a future with a white house on a green filed, our kids running around chasing ponies, and two new silver cars in the driveway; one automatic transmission Toyota for the wife, and a standard Civic for the husband. The only sound to be heard during the day is that of lazy bumblebees flying around your nicely arranged garden and the laughter of kids playing on the trampoline next door; the sound of injustice so completely muted by distance.

But how can this be? In elementary school I would have called that person a coward, but he is not considered a coward who has his family’s best interest in mind. But is there any other word for the person who sees world issues and decides that it is too complicated to get involved with, or too dangerous? Who remembers those who stood by and watched the slave trade unfold in the 1800's? What teacher talks about the valiant father who decided to run away to the countryside and start a family instead of taking a stand for or against the slave trade? These people are not in textbooks, they are not remembered. They are forgotten not for what they did, but for what they didn't do. It is true that the opposite of love is not hate, it is apathy.

It makes me wonder what good is the person who risks greatly climbing mountains when all that is to be gained is ego, what lasting influence will a brave father have if he runs away from real world issues? Time and again, average North Americans chose apathy if it means that they can continue pursuing their version of the illusive American Dream.

If injustice is a threat, I wonder what kind of life-style we are trying to justify.

thats my sister!

who is currently the most famous person in the WHOLE WORLD!!...or at least IN SALEM!!
Which, I am pleased to announce, means that I too am famous by association. I will be glad to give out my autograph but I only sign bodies...to save on paper of course. Its the green way of giving your autograph.

today

Today
A gray and mournful day
The kind of which on funerals lay
This misty sheet of moisture fall
Down on gray and mournful all
Who, clothed in black and boring cloak
Are sullen, sad, and sunken folk.

Mortuary's dance and frolic whence
The sun is blocked and rain commence
For now does business swell and bloom
When the living sway and swoon
Down to hell if not first saved
By the dirt floor of a grave.

Be spared this fate ye living few,
Act with haste upon this coup
When arrows fall from high heaven,
When our enemy fastly beckon,
Deploy, deploy our sole defensive
Umbrellas bounce and spring to action.

Unyielding black umbrella's attempt
To hold the heavn'ly armament
But yet it is to no avail,
The troops begin to fail and fail.

Bodies limp and faces sleek
Gnarled limbs wet and bleak,
Die in the onslaught ever falling
Fast in sheets of dampness galling,
Out flanked, out numbered, umbrellas swirling
For their children and wives yearning,
The troops by the thousands succumb.

But what did that great warrior state,
If beat them not, then join them late,
And so we must if to survive
To drop all grievances aside
And ask our wet foe to befriend
Those who for years paved o'er their land
And on bended knee to plea
A thousand years of clemency
On one condition tis employed
If all umbrellas be destroyed.

giddy cavers

And you people thought I was technologically impaired! Ha! Not only have I proven you wrong by posting a picture but also a movie! So I never want to hear about it again.


Surprisingly, claustrophobia was about the last thing on anyone’s mind—like the thing everyone knows is there but no one pays attention to…like babies. Caving is probably the most adventurous activity a normal Joe could pursue—the last frontier on earth that doesn’t require an exorbitant budget of those who desire to explore. Add in the beauty of underground geology, technical rope skills, and a good time with a few nutty cavers, and you’ve got yourself the vacation of a life time.

In comparison to their egotistical, global-summit-dominion motivated mountaineering counterparts; cavers seem to hold a strong camaraderie between each other. While mountaineers would rather boast about how many summits they’ve sacked in the Himalayas, cavers would be more likely to make fun of your mother over a pint. Maybe the main difference is that mountaineers climb mountains to feed their insatiable ego and cavers cave to discover the cave—not to prove something. I like that.

Tree: a study of gravities influence in its natural environment

Today I had a gravitational encounter with an inconveniently located tree. The star of the act of course was gravity whose role was supported by an innocent skier caught in the grips of its accelerating power. The force of gravities acceleration combined with a nitwit skier's miscalculated turn-to-tree radius stigmatizations led to a rather spectacular collision with a tree. Within milliseconds the skier (me) was engulfed in a spiraling tornado of snow, skis, poles, tree limbs, and flailing body parts. The powder clouds were high enough to touch the hallowed heavens above. When the powder settled there was our hero (me), the innocent skier, lying prostrate on the snow with one still attached ski caught in branches of two different trees, and a ski pole bent at a 90 degree angle. Slightly ominously, a well meaning snow boarder comments on the "wicked spill" and asks if he can be of assistance, but given the red horns that stuck out of the good Samaritans helmet, I decide to graciously decline the generous offer. Figuring it was time for a rest, I limp into the lodge to make my legendary miracle healing concoction (or LMHC for short); split pea soup, Doritos’s, and a pint’a beer (all consumed separately of course). The effect miracle concoction, hastened by dehydration, quickly restores my sense of invincibility and I hit the slopes once more…but not for long before the pain masking properties of the LMHC fade and I feel as though I am 40 years old—on the brink of death.

In other news, I am headed out for New Mexico…you know its going to be good because its like Mexico only better because its new. I’ll be there for a week long caving trip. While caves may not the best place to get a tan, apparently they are the best place to get stuck and die. So I’ll do my best to accomplish one of the two things listed above. Which one could it be? You’ll find out if I never post again.

…A slightly ominous ending, but an ending no less

female insight #1

It is uncanny the resemplance between the female mind and police surveillance cameras. Forget all the good stuff you ever did (assuming there was some), they only catch you at your bad moments--and replay it over and over. These go on your permanent record. Be it a misdemeanor or a federal offence, at any point in the future you are liable to have one of these police videos pulled out months, years, or decades after the transgression. This sudden reawakening of past sins leaves me perplexed because two-thirds of the time I have not only forgotten the incident, but that entire period of my life. For those of you who know me this will come as no surprise. You would think some money hungry tycoon would start advertising for memory altering drugs that would wipe out the "police camera" section of the female brain, I'll keep waiting for it to come out. But until then; for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, until death will me and my record part.

5 subjects

Has it ever happened to you that in a flash of a second your ideas, values, priorities, and definition of meaning which, one second ago you valued so highly, are now exposed as utter silliness? One well placed sentence is all it takes to switch a world view completely.

I pledge allegiance
To the fact
That I will never live in suburbia.
And for the evil empire
For which it stands
One accursed barren waste land,
Indivisible
With long commutes for all.

Curious; in an unexpectedly interesting segment of class, we wrote down our three main priorities in life i.e. family self work. Then were told to write these three priorities in sequence of “most time I spend with” to “least time I spend with”. Oddly, when I compared the two lists, they were completely opposite of each other—the main priorities get the least time, and the least priorities get the most.

I enjoy astronomy class mostly because of the incredible understatements one can make about the universe. My professor does it all the time “so they discovered that the sun’s core is about 1 million Kelvin…ok? So if you get close enough to that, it’ll burn your marshmallow sticks and ruin your whole party for sure”.

I saw the stars tonight. I can’t remember the last time I saw them, or at least looked at them, but there they were; mocking human existence from their eternal perch. If stars had a consciousness I wonder what they who live for trillions of years would say to those whose lives rarely surpass 90 on a planet a 0.00001 the size of their own. No such deflation of the human ego can compare to that the heavens bestow in the minds of those who listen to the message of their voices.

best before august, 2009

It is not uncommon for the recipient of an email to read "I miss you" at the bottom of a letter. This statement very unremarkable in terms of its common colloquial usage in the English language. Most perplexing to me is the new and peculiar placement of symbol to follow this common statement; namely, a question mark. So the complete phrase may read as follows: "I miss you?” The implications of this statement? Unknown. I have never encountered this use of a question mark. The first time I encountered this phenomenon I passed it off as a typo or one writer’s idiosyncrasy. But what of the second and third times I received this odd statement from different writers? Something is afoot.

Recently I have been making a hobby of studying good-byes. I find them interesting. An interest perhaps similar to the kind a doctor would have on himself if repeatedly broke out in seizures. After much thought on the matter I have deduced the phrase "I miss you?" is typical of a type 2 friendship. Let's expand the idea:

1. Type 2 friends are good buddies where the relationship is based on experience i.e. seeing each other every day, hanging out, coffee, etc.
2. But they separate and never see each other again
3. This leads to a lack of new experiences from which to base the relationship. There is old experience but this quickly becomes irrelevant in light of current circumstances.
4. Years down the road, both parties feel conflictingly as to the extent of missing their former friend (FF). With having none but past and irrelevant shared experiences to cite, the FF’s intellectually know that they used to like each other but no longer have any hard experience to prove this idea.
5. Hence, the statement “I miss you?” is a perfect encapsulation of an individual’s conflicting emotions, experiences and ideas in the context of an expiring relationship. Brilliant.

Here’s a thought; do relationships have expiration dates similar to that found on milk cartons? Except that this expiration date is based upon some cosmic calculation of random circumstances in that lead to an estimated date of relational termination. It would be funny to meet someone and then stamp their forehead with a “best before august 2009”.

exploding heads

The clock struck twelve. The night was still. Only the sound of gently tapping rain could be heard on the tin roof in the intervals between surges of swelling surf on the ocean. In the placid silence something was awry, she could feel it somewhere down in her lower left pinky toe. Her steady hazel eyes examined the ghostly horizon lit only by the pale moon. At that moment perhaps the most extraordinary, history altering event took place.

Did you really think I was about to write a dramatic story? Ha! Oh man, gets me every time. You should’a seen the way you looked when you started reading that story. Brilliant. Anyways, I wanted to wish you all a happy Belated April Fools Anniversary. January 1st was the 8 month anniversary of April fools since April 2006, so I thought I’d do some “fooling” of my own, if you know what I mean. And just how many times can I mention “April” in one paragraph? Apparently a lot…and then some. But that’s no reason not to say “gotcha!” Haha!

Now onto business; exactly the nature of the very important business I have to discuss? It is either too classified to write in this entry, or there is none at all. Perhaps the unnamed writer of this entry who you assume to be, for all practical and experiential purposes someone named brent is actually a telemarketer in India eating kim-chi or whatever it is they eat in Africa. Suffice it to say, now that I have got you wondering why in the world you are wasting your precious (and as you continue reading) decreasing brainwaves on this literacy and emotional stability test, I am ready to disclose the thesis statement of this entry:

America. (which is actually a word, not a thesis…I got my poetic license yesterday alright? Get off my back). Now that I have been living here for almost a month I feel that I am a professional on the subject and following are a list of my most poignant, though be it provoking thoughts for some:

1. Variability.
Contrary to what many people would like to think about America (I too, was once one of these) Americans are not all the same. For example, overseas one will hear many people say all Americans are fat. CASE IN POINT. From my personal experience I can personally attest to you that in fact, not all Americans are obese. Would you like to rebuttle by saying that the majority of Americans are fat? I have no idea. And I would suggest that unless you have some verifiable facts under your belt, neither do you so we should end this discussion now.

2. Political diversity.
Overseas or across the border many people equate Americans with Bush fanatics. Its like the eagle on the cover of each American passport is a testament to one’s undying love and commitment to A. Bush and B. blowing up the rest of the planet that is not owned by Bush, stealing their oil, plundering natural resources, and enslaving cheap labor in Asia. I am pleased to announce that not only are there the kind of people in America who do not like Bush, but there are other kinds of people too. WOW. I know, Heads are probably exploding even as you read this.

Which is why I will leave this entry here. Stand by for the next edition of exploding heads.