dumping ground for the Images of my brain mind

mushroom: can you feel your heart burning? can you feel the struggle within? the fear within me is beyond anything your soul can make. you cannot kill me in a way that matters

>completely deranged movie that re-invented the mythology of WWII and forged it into a spectacle of righteous bloodshed

>has a character whose arc is completed by overcoming his resistance to gunning down unarmed, surrendering enemy prisoners

>whole thing is sheathed in uber-sentimental Spielbergisms about the duty and honor and sacrifice and shit

>Sets up Dreamworks Interactive

>Produces Medal of Honor, released 1999

>invents the genre-form of the military shooter and, again, slathers it in rousing sentimental justice and honor and shit

>In 2001, releases Band of Brothers, which he "created" and produced alongside Tom Hanks

>show all about camaraderie, and soldiers' duties to one another, about the bonds they form and the resilience these relationship provide these men in the face of the difficulty of what they must do, that being the war

>each of these stories are essentially about the burdened masculine duty of warfare, doing the difficult thing that must be done, the honor and dignity and sacrifice in the only war we've ever had that was ethically justifiable because of the the universal aggression of the axis forces

>makes the perfect case for why, sometimes, in the face of a truly great evil, warfare is just, and righteous, and men can choose to do it out of goodness, to protect that which they love, and that there is immense, heightened beauty in this love during war the likes of which nobody but a warrior can truly understand

>the first episode of Band of Brothers airs on September 9th, 2001

>In 2002, after working on and releasing Medal Of Honor: Allied Assault, 22 members of Dreamworks Interactive start their own studio

>In 2003, they release their first game

Mr. Clean is trade, but not the scary kind. Not the kind you blow in the backseat of a Ford parked behind the Saint Paul Episcopal at four in the morning. It's been a long time since you were seventeen trawling Craigslist in your shoplifted Target dress. You're a grown woman now. You’re not that girl, and he's not that guy.

He doesn't try to get you to put out on the first date, or the second. Not even the third or fourth. But the fifth? Well, now you’ve gotta have him. You slip up and call him ‘daddy’ but he just rolls with it, real smooth. “Dirty girl,” he growls, and now you’re digging your acrylics in his shoulder. He can take it. “That’s my dirty fuckin’ girl.”

He’s ex-Navy, blue collar, not rich but he’s got his shit together. Stays at the trailer park down Dryer Street. It’s nice inside, cozy and neat. Man’s got better taste than all the other bachelors in their mid-forties you’ve tangled with. Bi, which is fine. Not exactly out and proud, but he never treats you like a secret. You wake up in his sheets and here he comes in that tight white T-shirt with a plate of bacon and eggs and a glass of OJ just for you. Tells you he’s got his VFW buddies coming over later to shoot the shit over some beers but it’s just a matter of fact, doesn’t have the ‘so you better get going’ sting to it. But you go home anyway, ‘cause it sure as shit doesn’t sound like fun. He gives you a ride and mom doesn’t think to ask where the hell you’ve been the past two days.

So you’ve been seeing him the past couple months now. The man’s so easygoing when you’re with him you feel like you can let your guard down for the first time in Christ only knows how long. Soon enough you’re tangled in his big arms every Friday and Saturday and you’ve got him watching Survivor and I Love New York with a big bowl of popcorn, a glass of wine for you and a can of Miller for him. You don’t need to watch how you laugh with him, or the way you cough or clear your throat. He doesn’t give a shit how you sound. Maybe he’s too good to be true, but you don’t care. He just makes you feel so safe.

‘Til one night you drive to the Love’s down the road, the one where you pick up Marlboro Lights for yourself and Pall Malls for mom. This time there’s a new guy at the register. “You a dude, or what?”, he says, right when he rings you up. Fuckin’ hick asshole. It’s been a minute since you got any of that bullshit and it puts you in a funk for the rest of the week. A real bad funk.

And now you’re damn near black-out drunk in his bathroom, puking your guts out, crying ‘til your eyes sting. You feel disgusting. Ugly. Damaged goods. Just a fuckin’ tranny. That’s all you’ll ever be.

But all you can choke out between the heaves is, “I’m a mess, I’m such a fuckin’ mess.”

…which means it’s time for an annual reminder not to kidnap baby birds. Fact: most species of birds have almost no sense of smell. Someone probably told you that if you touch a baby bird, the mother will smell you on it and reject her baby. THAT IS NOT THE CASE. If you’ve found a baby bird and you touched it, all is not lost, you can still return it to mom and dad!

Pictured: a young Mourning Dove, after being rescued from the tender mercies of my dog, circa spring 2005. It’s a fledgling! Note how it has most of its feathers, but still looks a bit awkward and scruffy, and, being unable to properly fly, can be caught by an elderly husky or a child. 

Help, I found a baby bird on the ground, what do I do???

Hatchlings/Nestlings: IF it is naked or covered in fluffy down and/or pinfeathers and cannot flutter successfully, it’s a hatchling or nestling, and has fallen from its nest prematurely. Look for the nest- if you find it and can reach it, return baby and then leave and let the parents return. If you can’t find the nest, or if you find it in pieces on the ground, use a small box/yogurt container lined with dried grass and attach as close as possible to where you found the bird or where you think the nest was. If it’s cold, warm it in your hands for a few minutes before putting it back. RETURN BABY!!!! 

Fledglings: If you spot a young bird covered with feathers (may have a few patches of fluff) on the ground, it’s a fledgling (bird tween) who is currently working on flying 101 homework, which is normal and fine. Hanging out on the ground is part of the learning to fly process! If it looks like it’s in immediate danger (i.e. of being run over, stepped on, or eaten by a cat or dog), the best thing you can do for it is to gently scoop it up and place it in the low branches of a nearby tree or shrub, and then LEAVE. The parents are likely nearby watching, and will return once the coast is clear. If it flutter-hops away from you and you can’t catch it, then don’t worry! It just successfully avoided a predator (you), and therefore can probably continue to do so. LEAVE BABY ALONE!!!

DO NOT: Try to feed it, bring it into your house or car, or take it to your local domestic animal vet or shelter. 

i am a complex organism brutally engineered by uncaring forces of nature

i am a product of billions of years and trillions of deaths

i am building a machine greater than myself