Schrodinger's Cat: Rationalizations of an Existentialist (Part 3: Delayed Feline Arrival)

I suppose I should be happy that I named this blog (or originally named this blog "If I'm the Cat") at the end of the previous installment. Too bad I failed to remember that. Rationalization number seven could be "I Cannot Win"...even better the "Evangelion" stylized version [I Can (Not) Win], but I'd like to believe that my lack of opportunities is because no one wants to step up and be the loser. Explains the local wrestling scene, but what about team efforts?

Rationalization 7: I Am a Shitty Teammate.*

We can go back to high school wrestling and manipulative (and in turn, stupid) Mortonites, but let's keep it current. I've made some decisions that have left me in less than ideal situations, but I've always come through for others. It can be argued that I didn't come through for my parents for the sheer amount of stress I've caused them. But [and the "Game of Thrones" fans can make their claims for my lack of parental respect or make their hypocrite accusations for using the "Stark But Formula (so tempted to add an extra T to the middle word)"] I feel that all my failures are my failures.

They came through for me when I needed help, and have yet to not do so. And so far, I've have yet to fail at being there for them. If they feel I have, they assumed I wouldn't be able to help them. Don't challenge me because I will find a way to meet the challenge. Fight is all I know I have.

The only way that it can be said my failures reflect on my parents is that I am not the adult they wanted me to grow up to be. Can anyone be what there folks want them to be? Actually, that might be true, at least in terms of my family, but that can open up a whole bag of Tim Burton-sized worms that I should avoid.

*So, I've yet to nail down "Rationalization 7." Technically, it's the titles that I keep missing.

Read the rest of this blog and other stories at Main Event of the Dead.com and determine if this thought process can be translated into a B-movie comedy about pro-wrestling zombies.

Schrodinger's Cat: Rationalizations of an Existentialist (Part 2: Sub-Subtext Device)

I was bashing my head against my desk at the day job (don't worry, the manager whose office was across from my cubicle took the day off) trying to come up with an opening to the meat of this two part blog. The best I could come up with was an attempt to attach the irony (at least in an Alanis Morrissete sense) of not having the cellular data to use Spotify for some ironic industrial rock (namely Angelspit's "Cubicle") to something, anything that seemed to be a sensible transition from the abandonment discussed previously.

Some how this blog feels like a victory learning that all I needed was to come up with the sub-sub (sub-sub-sub-sub...sub-subtext device) title to inspire the direction. Originally it was going to be "If I'm the Cat." Despite the cuteness in the my intended blog title, I'm sure that we can get back to a lighthearted attempt at my emotionally dire strait.

Oh for some money for nothing and chicks to redistribute it to. Some one has to make some money from the whimsical concept of a rock n' roll lifestyle or more people will need to be liquidated beyond those who have reality shows on E! and TLC.

I am not coming up with any other music references, so my Penn Jillette homage has lost its fuel, along with my optimism.

Or has it, I seem to be looking on the bright side of every misstep in this writing. Too bad it is going to result in a horrid blog and "Cat: Part 3." There we are, back to my dissatisfaction.

Rationalization 3: Creativity is not intelligence.

Read the rest of this blog and other stories at Main Event of the Dead.com and determine if this thought process can be translated into a B-movie comedy about pro-wrestling zombies.

Schrodinger's Cat: Rationalizations of an Existentialist (Part 1: Sharing)

I hate to be part of the statistics, but as far as I can tell the first week of the New Year is the most depressing. At least for 2014, and I at least earned it.

The year of "our" lord two-thousand fourteen (can't we switch to star dates...as a "Star Wars" fan, I hate to suggest it, but SCIENCE) was kicked off by one of my best friends of the past couple of years cutting off the only way to interact with them (Facebook since they moved six hours away). To her credit, it wasn't because they seemingly wrote me off for standing by my liberal stances, but that I brought potential shame to them. I hope they do not think I have written them off because I won't follow them on Twitter as a compromise.

Rationalization 1: Twitter is for followers, not friends.

Twitter should be about promoting yourself (@xxxRiley does a great job of that). It is not for people you necessarily know, but you find interesting. Maybe they are your friends, maybe not, but you get an insight into what they are thinking, to understand them...or buy their shit. Once Twitter started showing you every tweet "@" said person, the feed is impossible to dredge through (in my opinion).

I also liked Twitter more when it was just about the 140 characters. Once people started retweeting stuff about people I do not give a damn about, that may as well be sharing. Sharing offensive political memes from people who are one of the following:

• Too lazy to make the opinion their own.
• Too brainwashed to think about what they are posting.
• Too scared that they cannot get attention unless they put a loud picture on their page.

Warning: My next blog (following the Schodinger series) be about my anti-offensive meme tweets. If you post an uncaring meme on Facebook, I'll have the blog to share in your comments section. I just want you to think about what you said. It is not personal...unless your a right wing Facebook mole.

Read the rest of this blog and other stories at Main Event of the Dead.com and determine if this thought process can be translated into a B-movie comedy about pro-wrestling zombies.