Every now and then I arrive to Barnes and Noble (or Borders, or perhaps a Waldenbooks), my mind savoring with an expectation that perhaps this day I will walk out hurridly, books in hand, the cash register receipt still warm, hurrying– perhaps even recklessly speeding back home for some mind porn.

The books in the Dark Tower series by Stephen King fit into this category, or perhaps the newest graphics design magazine often outrageously overpriced because it’s British, or should I say, European, and therefore meriting a hundred percent increase in price from normal mundane magazines. Sometimes the books are chosen randomly, perhaps from the sci-fi section or the best-seller section (my reading material isn’t very worldly), or some technical computer books.

Yesturday it was the collection of short stories of Phillip K. Dick (immediately provoking snickers from my less dorky roommates). He wrote the stories which were the basis for many blockbuster movies, including Total Recall (perhaps not the 3 breast part), Minority Report, Bladerunner, and the newest movie from Bennifer, Inc.: Paycheck.

Dick’s (okay, stop snickering) hallmark is the utter strangeness of his stories, with similarities to Twilight Zone (which he preceded). In terms of social commentary and marginally in terms of writing style, Vonnegut has him beat, but in terms of cleverness, Dick beats him handily (har har).

Maybe tommorow I’ll write a witty observational piece instead of a book report. Good night to my audience of perhaps two people.

Thank you to my girlfriend Aileen for logging on surreptitiously and writing something so she can at the same time express her feelings and show I little I even read my own blog. Thank you very much.

I love you David. I love it when you write. It reminds me of when you were nothing more than a screen name on AIM that IMed me tried to whore yourself around the internet for more hits. It reminds me of when we first met, when we first kissed, and when I first realized that the mistakes I made were that I didn’t go with my gut instincts to choose you first. It reminds me of how many trials we’ve had, how much pain we’ve suffered, all of which resulted in more laughter than tears, more hugs than fights, and more love than hate. It reminds me of the reasons why life is so much more beautiful– because you are around, because you are here, and because you love me.

A few days ago I got the results of the neurotest that I took. IQ on the edge of the charts. Word recollection, and processing of information a bit lower than that is expected relative to the results of everything else. They also tested my willingness to score high ( I suppose they have built in tests to catch fakers, etc), and I even often try to ignore my problems or go past them. Recommendation to seek treatment, but I don’t want to go. le sigh.

When I read through Fark.com I usually attempt to read through the comments denoted by an infinity symbol. I got a bit annoyed when people started throwing the word neo-con around when it had nothing to do with the situation. The comments went something like this:

- Yay, Dow Jones past 10000. You liberals are just begging for some kind of scandal aren’t ya? Suckas!

- Whatever, there are plenty of “scandals” like the qaugmire in Iraq, the doing coke when he was young, failing at every business

- Whatever you asshole. Yer just jealous.

- God I hate damn neocons who are so smug all the time.

Where the hell did he pull neocon from? Just because you are a Bush supporter doesn’t mean you are a neocon! In fact, people are most oft labeled neoconservative rather than calling themselves that. There’s a big difference of opinion within the current conservative party between the neocons and the much larger conservative base. It’s just that the republicans are standing behind the president.

Bush may have a lot of neo-con advisors, but he has done some very non-neoconservative things (Ridge announcing a Whitehouse idea to deliver leniency to millions of undocumented aliens to name one). Here’s a more detailed article.

I ordered some posters by Justin Bua, one of my favorite artists that I actually know by name for gifts and for placement into my walls. If you haven’t checked out his work before, you should! He’s awesome. Forgot to add also that I ordered some Escher and a 1940′s era trendy french poster with words I shoud look up on babblefish.

Normally I’m not very jealous of journalists on the Internet. It’s normally the case that I’ll give a brief thirty second glimpse at a few postings, chuckle at some hyper-acute intelligent observation and then move on, usually moving onto Fark.com or Slate.com while I pound away uselessly and childishly chuckling at some inane event in real life while I procrastinate on my school work and my future. Usually their higher degree of mental intellect or their level of success and (usually) their greater grasp of grammar and spelling and their intelligent observations, impressive grasp of vocabulary and their socially aware humor don’t bother me much because I don’t have to ever face them in real life.

But lately though, both my only sibling and my girlfriend always mention how cool this one guy is. “Oh Duke Kim is so cool, maybe he’ll treat me out to lunch or something!”, my sister remarked on her one visit to my home during Thanksgiving.

“Duke Kim is so clever, have you seen his post about rats, Dave? It’s so funny. I love how he just brings to life situations and makes them really funny.” Sparing a momentary glance doesn’t help– my girlfriend wants to read it out loud to me so-help-me-god, so I’ll be sure to be an audience. I feel like Lisa Simpson in that one episode:

Yeah I know he’s cool okay? Even his introduction page with the nifty Nintendo era pixel artwork and his design remniscient of a Dave Eggers inspired magazine is cool. Too cool. I’m going to cry and drink my diet coke and munch on my roommate Chad’s brownies.

I used to be so cool. What happened?