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Click! Laugh! Enjoy My Dirt Report! • rss
February 13th, 2009
I recruit child labor at work to produce for me works. Veritable masterpieces. Works upon which gazed upon, will unfurl morbid ideas, utter, horrific insights to my perturbed psyche, the likes of which cannot ever be imagined, especially when experienced, FIRST HAND.
This, my friends, is that very horror. There is a stick in the foreground for comparison. This mere stick is a YARDSTICK, PEOPLE. I MADE THE CHILDREN AT WORK MAKE A 9 FOOT AWESOME FACE.
That is all 
-hashi
January 30th, 2009
Until I dreamt of it, last night. I was with my father in some old musty house. It was huge, but it was old and he likes old things. A friend from school came by to visit and he and my father hit it off [the friend is an older gentleman, so it's not weird or anything like that]. He happened to live next door, so my dad visited while I go off and do my thing with someone I apparently knew from school [the JC I attend]. I go to another musty old place at school, and it was quite hustley and bustley. People were everywhere and it was a generally good feeling, albeit the mustiness everywhere just made it seem like the people in the building were the only source of activity, of life. I saw a plaque on the wall. All black, and it seemed like it was [professionally] etched by hand, something that resembled the word “ZILINXE” then a string of numbers, turning out to be a date: 200902XX, or something akin to that, and on the bottom it read [in the same etched style] “THE END OF THE WORLD”. Intuitively I knew that this was from some sort of prophecy, be it Nostradamus or John Titor. Whatever it was from, I cannot remember. An indeterminate amount of time passes, and I forget about the plaque. I say indeterminate because it seems almost instantanous, but memories fade. I do remember flirting, though, so SOME measure of time did pass.
Just then…
There is a bright sustained flash of light filling the sky. I felt a gentle burning in my skin as I reached two conclusions as to what it was: a nuclear bomb or an asteroid impact. Immediately, I yelled “Everyone get down!” As I get down, feeling the impact thrum through my body and throughout the building. I get up, and usher people to go down to the lowest part of the building [as if a basement or bomb shelter existed]. Next to getting everyone around me to safety, my thoughts fell on my father and how he was.
This dream helps me realize I’m still human, that I still care. It also makes me realize why I didn’t think of the rest of my family, and makes me still question my humanity. Is my ‘out of sight, out of mind’ mentality really that severe? I remember the genuine heartfelt concern I had for my father, but what if he wasn’t in my dream? would I still think of my family? Does the scope of the dream outline the scope of what I can feel? I think it might be that, since dreams work in strange ways. Strange and obscure rules are set in whatever wonderland your dreams take you, and you willingly abide by them, only rarely doubting its version of reality.
In any case, I hope dreams come true [I dreamt that I found $140 I forgot I had in my wallet a night or two ago]. Then again, I hope some don’t.
-hashi
January 28th, 2009
My sense of humor is… eclectic. Deal. I’ve also been sick so I’ve been home loads more and frankly, I like drawing when I’m home. Not much else is going on which is particularly blogworthy. Goodnight folks.
-hashi
January 28th, 2009
Tentacle Grape Soda
Hentai, yes. I find it humorous.
-hashi
January 27th, 2009
I finally finished it! Jesus, I need to somehow expedite that process.
Also, something I discovered on a T-shirt at my local comic book store:
Alex Ross is one of my favorite artists.
-hashi
January 24th, 2009
One of my big projects I was worrying quite a bit about has been dropped. I couldn’t fulfill my client’s expectations and deadline so he passed it off to someone else. I just wish he would have told me. Ah well, passive-aggressive tendencies in business are rather commonplace. It is the core of office drama, and it’s pretty pathetic, most of the time. Other times, it’s expected because of friendship and such, and this happens to be the case.
The boy still has my portable hard drive! I want it back!
This means I may have more time to draw! Also, I have gotten a lot more free time at work due to a pooload of stress being lifted after preparing for an awards ceremony.
I’m now down to twoish projects [the third is nearly complete with its big phase, Go MDR!] and they’re looking good. Hooray for me!
-hashi
January 16th, 2009
I find myself watching Kiki’s Delivery Service, which was an anime distributed by Disney in the States, as far as I know, and, well, the part I watched recently [given that I have seen the movie before, I was skipping ahead to interesting parts] made me shed a tear or two.
“But Hashi! You’re made of basalt! You cannot possibly show emotion!”
I wish I were. It was a relatively harmless scene, too. Kiki and her boy were flying down the coast on his flying machine engine which he powered.
I suppose I’m envious of such foolhardiness combined with the carelessness and invincibility of youth. I wish I could experience that once again, but with a special someone to experience it with. To see it through their “eyes”, so to speak, struck a deep chord in me. I can only hope I forget such feelings forever and deal with my current situation and hope that I have no more ’situations’.
Good News!: (1) I’m going to shave my head again. (2) I’ve been drawing a lot more (3) I want to draw more!
Here’s to hoping my drawing gets me somewhere.
-hashi
January 1st, 2009
I have decided to keep my DeviantArt account in lieu of my blog being some sort of gallery because, well, I’m horribly lazy and intend on keeping the DA because of the exposure I get there.
Go! Look!
P.S. Digital work will slow down until I get a new AAA battery for my pen for my crappy tablet. When the battery dies, it gets jittery and skippy. I both love and hate my tablet.
Oh, and also, Happy New Year and all that jazz.
-hashi
December 29th, 2008
It is strange when a song is able to make you remember something in the past, however the song itself has no association with the past event which sparks your memory. However, I think the style and content of the song itself is relatable to another song which sparks memories, and thus the connection is made. It seems like a weak connection, but frankly, I think Far’s “Hot Little Pony” (cover of Ginuwine’s “Pony”) does a better job at the memory recall than the song it somewhat emulates.
Frankly, it makes me “miss”. I’m not one to easily admit that, however I like to think that, well, this is my own personal blog, and I cannot always fill it with the utmost in creativity all the time, so this will be a heartbeat post, to let you, my faithful readers, however few you may be, that yes, I am alive and still thinking about this site.
In any case, I recommend the aforementioned song to anyone who isn’t offended by graphically sexual lyrics.
-hashi
December 13th, 2008
When one has a ‘gut feeling’, that is exactly what it is, a gut feeling. Some may say that they feel it in their ‘gut’ because, well, next to the brain, the digestive system around our stomach and such is the biggest cluster of nerves we have. Who knows exactly how much of our thoughts are processed down there? The noble Apatosaurus had essentially two brains: one in its head and one at the base of the tail [kinda sorta near where its 'gut' would be, when compared to our vastly differing bodies], so who is to say that our ‘gut feelings’ are to be left by the wayside when so-called ‘logic’ steps in?
The whole ‘gut feeling’ angle I was going after, however, is a massive digression in what I want to actually impart. A ‘gut feeling’ is something we can’t put into words, but somehow just feels right at times. Who knows by what mental mechanics we filter our information that we cannot put into words? All’s I know is that I took a semester of Psych so I could be completely and utterly wrong, but I like to muse so bear with me and my naivete.
New approach - background information that for the most part should be true: The part of the brain that controls speech is on the left side, near the temple. Broca’s Area, as it is labeled. This part of the brain is exclusively on the left side, meaning that if it wished to communicate to the right, it would have to go through the information superhighway of the brain known as the Corpus Collosum, a bundle of a few hundred million nerves that connect the left and right hemispheres. For the rare few who have had their CC severed due to debilitating epilepsy, they have a unique method of viewing things, namely because of this severance. N.B. fyi, everything that happens on one side of our body is registered by the opposing hemisphere. So! For example, if one of these rare people were to see a thing ONLY with their left eye, they could not verbalize what they saw, but they could spell it out with letters they find, or simply know intuitively what it is. We still-connected types can easily pinpoint whatever we see with one eye verbally because it communicates with the hemisphere of our brain that is speech-enabled. But what if not everything is communicated? I mean, the human brain is the most complex logic board we’ve ever seen, and to even build something even remotely similar to how it functions requires a RIDICULOUS amount of processing power, involving the computation of petabytes of information*! [1 PB = 1,000 TB [terabytes] = 1,000,000 GB [gigabytes] = 1,000,000,000 MB [Megabytes], etc.] I believe that it is entirely possible that not everything our right hemisphere processes is shared entirely with the left, and thus we are left with abstract feelings about things which, to me, should bear equal validity as the side we can sort out in our ridiculous method of lingual communication, even though its harder to understand the intuitive side for that very reason.
I dunno, really. I felt like spitting that out. I love blogs.
* I read about how some guy wanted to build a working prototype of how the human brain works, and he needed a TON of computers and a TON of power and a TON of money and, well, you get the idea. In the article, he stated that it would need to be able to process petabytes of information, which is entirely understandable, given how we just kinda sorta see so much, experience so much, and are able to react to it so quickly with such complexity. If you are a programmer, you’d know exactly what it takes to attempt to emulate what a human can do.
-hashi
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