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Name: Michael
Birthday: 5/8/1982
Gender: Male
Interests: Comic Books, Books, TV, Movies - I like anything with a good story.
Expertise: Hmm, expertise is it? Well for the moment, I'm not an expert at anything but if I had to peg something, I'd wager that I'm good with pop culture and with movies, tv, and comics.
Occupation: Administrative
Industry: Medical
Message: message me
AIM:  ThePrimeDreamer
Member Since:
3/5/2005
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| As sad and pathetic as it seems, certain TV shows instill in me such an affection that fabricated characters become real breathing and talking people. Just as I do in the books, comics, and games that I read and play, in my mind the characters that I watch on TV come to life. On Tuesdays, I go to Luke's Diner and become a local of Stars Hallow and watch the wonderful banter between Loralae and Rory Gilmore. On Wednesdays, I become one of the background survivors of Oceanic Flight 815 and on Mondays, I'm a CTU agent.. But tonight as syntox nerve gas infultrates CTU LA headquarters, one of the show's new characters gets locked out and succumbs to the nerve gas. Edgar Stiles, who was introduced in Season Four, quickly became the male counterpart to Chloe and soon became a favorite of mine. But he's dead. DEAD DEAD DEAD. Or is he? Ah screw it! Poor Edgar. You will be missed.
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| Simon talked about the sad irony in our lives that we face when we work. During a beautiful bright day when one should be out and about and enjoying the good day, we imprison ourselves in our work, in our space, in our 4 by 4 office space. Working in a clinic and being nearby a hospital makes me think of another irony. The theory of "survival of the fittest" basically puts forth that the best and strongest of a species will survive and thrive and thereby continue the traits and characteristics that strengthen a species. But in our modern society, we create a world where this isn't true. If we can't see well, we where glasses or contacts or undergo surgery that does make us see better. And in some respects, we make ourselves worse off than before with our processed foods and calorie rich soft drinks. What heck are we doing? It's on a cloudy, wet, and rainy Friday that makes me think we're creating a slow-dying race, whose back was stabbed by a dagger of many ironies. | | |
| Ok. Here's goes: One day there lived a little boy who lived by a pond and lived with his mother, father, and his beautiful sister, Rain. And after a rain storm had passed, Rain noticed a beautiful rainbow by the pond and decided to go out and see it better. But the ground was moist still and Rain slipped and hit her head. Rain was ill for many months and finally left her family. The boy was angry. He was angry at the rain and angry at the rainbow. But he was especially mad at the pond and decided to fight it and kill it. But one can't fight the pond. And the boy died. He went into the pond and descended to it's depths and used his fists to hit and bash the water around, all the while losing his breath and drowning. But the Mistress of the Pond felt ill-compassion for the boy and granted him a single tear that flowed from her eye. And with that tear, the boy lived. But he kept on living. He lived and lived. He lived past his father and lived after his mother fell ill and died in her sleep. He lived while the pond dried up and the lived as the Mistress moved on. He lived and lived and lived some more. He became a being of "forever more," became the hushed whisphers of folks who called him the "Boy of Forever". He lived. He lives. He lives right now. Today. Somewhere. And where ever he is, he will live on and live angrily still, for he misses his sister, Rain, and still angers against the Pond and the Mistress, who took his life, and the life of his sister too. How was that?
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