slashdot won't let me post anymore, says i'm on an open proxy. it then tells me what my ip is (correctly) but gives me a port number that doesn't show up via netstat -a.

it's 5 in the morning and i've already had to deal with losing my entire recording drive and all the work on all the music i've done in the past year. i really don't want to deal with this shit right now. can one of my smart friends tell me what the fuck is going on right now please? thanks.

the irony is that i have 5 mod points, but i can't even post.

UPDATE: i just ran a port scan on hackerwatch.org and it said nothing about this port being open.

so i'm watching cnn this morning and soledad o'brien makes a comment that youtube was a "player" in the last election, referring to the "mukaka moment."

youtube is a MEDIUM. so to say that youtube was responsible for the "mukaka moment" is like holding the owner of a gas station responsible for the graffiti on the bathroom walls.

you could make the argument that whoever posted the video of the mukaka moment was the "player" - but you'd still be wrong.

the only person responsible for the word "mukaka" is the one who said it - george allen.

but to hold somebody accountable for the thing that they actually said, makes you somehow a "player"? can you even begin to imagine the hue and cry that would have gone up from the mainstream media if hillary clinton had made that comment?

but here we are again, watching a leading tv personality on a network owned by media megalith time warner attempt to portray as liberal the very MEDIUM used by someone who didn't even use their own words against a GOP candidate, but dared to simply publicize the candidate's own.

anybody else think maybe it's a good time for the people to take back control of the airwaves from the corporate elite?

slashdot, where i created my account about seven years ago, is the last place online where i used the name "bechthros" (more properly rendered as "b. echthros"). all my newer accounts (like myspace) have been using the nick "ikediggety". seems a bunch of others have gone to newer nicks as well (i'm looking at you, ethelred). so, if you add me on multiply as part of this maybe-conversion, do me a favor and let me know who you are on slashdot.

and dammit, bethanie's actually kinda cute. i was hoping she'd be some hideous beast...

plenty of people said the holocaust wasn't happening too, einstein. in fact, more informed people denied the holocaust than are denying global warming. don't be so alarmist, they said. they said it in the 30's when it was just getting underway. they said it in the early 40's when we were just getting into the war. they said it all the way until we stumbled upon the emaciated corpses of those we refused to believe were dying. after all, they said it wasn't true. at the very least, it was controversial.

and from the KKK to ahmedinijad, they're still saying it today.

global warming is scary, but it will be much less scary if we come to grips with it while there's still time to do something about it than it will be if we stick our heads in the sand until we're tripping over the corpses. again. we're saying the problem needs to be addressed. you're saying there isn't a problem.

and you have the balls to call US chicken little?

i'm 32 years old. i'm gonna have to deal with the repurcussions of what your generation has done to the planet we were charged with the stewardship of for the rest of my life. you'll be lucky enough to have escaped the consequences of your actions scot free. so it's all well and good for you to treat global warming as academic - for you, it is. you've stuck us with it. good job. pat yourself on the back. buck successfully passed, personal - and, more importantly, corporate - responsibility successfully avoided.

but do me a favor. if you, who are so unimaginitive to swallow that fallacy that all economic progress is inherently carbon-based, and who are so terrified of the consequences of your shortsightedness that you are willing to accuse those who seek to remedy your wrongdoings of the very cowardice you exemplify, can't be responsible enough to admit that overwhelming scientific consensus exists regarding global warming, and if you then insist on succumbing to the profiteering panderers who would soothe you into complacency and whisper into your cowardly ears the sweet, sweet nothings that you so long to hear, that the holocaust just isn't real... ...then SHUT UP. and may God have mercy on your soul. for those who follow you on the earth will have nothing but amazed contempt that you could carve the words "never again" into a stone monument, but lack the courage to believe them in your heart.

so forward that, o brave armchair Exxon warrior. you can quote me.

i am a hopeless follower. i've created an account there, but my name has changed - henceforth i shall be known as ikediggety. less obscure, but more me, since all my friends IRL call me ike.

anybody who wants in my network - holla at your boy.

jenna jameson has started selling her dandruff as a breakfast cereal.

she calls it.. ...wait for it... ...porn flakes.

nothing up my sleeve.

and now for something we hope you'll really like.

i just finished a remix of the mc chris track "blastic" for his remix contest. check it out if you like hard and dark drum and bass. it should be the first song that plays. if not, it's called "blastic - bear market". hopefully i win.

in milwaukee, in 1998, my girlfriend and i walked through sleet to the elementary school a block and a half away from our house. we figured that, being the closest public building, it was probably where we were supposed to vote. we were turned away and told that our polling place was in the public housing projects on locust and oakland - which meant we had to walk four more blocks south, then walk 2 miles across a bridge, then walk back again when we were done. it was sleeting the entire time, but we considered ourselves not only happy but lucky to be able to do what we were determined to do that day - cast a vote for senator russ feingold. feingold was the only senator to oppose the patriot act. feingold consistantly speaks form a position of uncommonly common sense and genuine intent to respresent the people of wisconsin.

here's what he has to say about the iraq study group:

The fact is this commission was composed apparently entirely of people who did not have the judgment to oppose this Iraq war in the first place, and did not have the judgment to realize it was not a wise move in the fight against terrorism. So that's who is doing this report. Then I looked at the list of who testified before them. There is virtually no one who opposed the war in the first place. Virtually no one who has been really calling for a different strategy that goes for a global approach to the war on terrorism. So this is really a Washington inside job.

1. What is your occupation?
audio-visual technician

2. What color are your socks right now?
mostly white

3. What are you listening to right now?
laptop fans and the a/c

4. What was the last thing that you ate?
a mixture of potatoes, cheese, sour cream, and pulled pork

5. Can you drive a stick shift?
boy can i.

6. If you were a crayon, what color would you be?
probably indigo

7. Last person you spoke to on the phone?
my drummer's voicemail

8. Do you like the person who sent this to you?
all four of them

9. How old are you today?
32

10. Favorite drinks?
really good beer, really good coffee, water in a glass bottle

11. What is your favorite sport to watch?
green bay packers mothafucka

12. Have you ever dyed your hair?
many, many, many times

13. Pets?
none

14. Favorite food?
that's a really hard decision. whatever it is probably involves bleu cheese

15. What was the last movie you watched?
borat

16. Favorite holiday?
thanksgiving

17. What do you do to vent anger?
bitchslap stupid libertarians on slashdot

18. What were your favorite toys as a kid?
Legos. i still have em too. i keep hoping it'll get me in good with a cute lady with a kid. so far, no go.

19. What is your favorite: fall or spring?
Spring.

20. Hugs or kisses?
yes please

21. Cherry or blueberry?
blueberry johnson

22. Do you want your friends to send this back?
a good chunk of them already did it.

23. Who is the most likely to respond?
no idea

24. Who is least likely to respond?
no idea

25. Living arrangements?
with my folks. it's actually more like they live with me.

26. When was the last time you cried?
February

27. What is on the floor of your closet?
some dirty clothes

28. Who is the friend you have had the longest that you're sending this to?
i'm posting it, not sending it

29. What did you do last night?
drank beer and watched tv

I am now a circuit bender. I know, I know, it's been going on for years and I'm a johnny-come-lately wanna-be trendster.

Fuck it. I'm having a blast.

Check me out. I've since added two aleatoric triggers and a hard volume control for the line out. I still need to add a speaker bypass switch (I can be really annoying at parties with this thing).

I'm not feeling human anymore.
Half connected all the time.
Each night I document the things I've done.
The pointless points I've made for stupid reasons.
Every night.

A dog's life.

What I wouldn't give for it. Three dogs live at my house. Two shelties and a black lab. They all posess varying degrees of sentience, but even the most self-aware among them, Dusty, has a consistent pattern of behavior: eat, shit, sleep. Iterate. Sure, she has moments of vanity and moments of affection (the latter of which I confidently feel are motivated solely by my food-providing abilities), but at the end of the day, she has her plan and she sticks to it. This plan will be good enough for her until the day she dies. When I find her lifeless and stiff body, feet up in front of the piano, I will be able to say with 100% certainty that the absolutely last thought on her mind will not have been her relationship to God. It will not have been on what she has contributed to the world. It will not have been whether or not she was an accomplished, self-actualized canine.

It will have been eating, shitting, or sleeping.

A while ago I was watching this comic on TV. I don't remember who he was, or a single thing about his routine, except for one thing. It involved a joke about a woman asking why men never share their feelings. His response was that the extent of mens' feelings were, basically, "bzzzzzzzzz".

What I wouldn't give.

You see, faithful readers, I am blighted - nay, cursed - with overwhelming sentience. Not only am I aware that I exist, but my every waking moment is consumed with it. Somewhere along the line in my life, and I would love to know who was involved so I could go find them and smack the living shit out of them, I became convinced of three things that have proven to be singularly debilitating in my life: a) that my life could have some degree of positive significance to others; b) that, quantitatively, my thinking could somehow affect the degree of said significance; c) that if my life had a high degree of positive significance to others it would be an inherently more rewarding place for me to live. The inevitable end-result of this being that I think about everything, all the time, no matter how pointless it always proves to be. At this very moment I am so self-aware I'm posting a blog about how self-aware I am, knowing full well that there is no realistic reason why anybody else should ever give a shit. Could I possibly be more boringly post-modern?

In all my life, there have been only three things that have ever been able to erase this hideous pox of sentience from my life: music, books, and drugs. Bereft of this holy triumvirate, I am cursed with myself, cursed with mirrors and fingerprints and report cards. Cursed with evidence.
Sartre once said that hell is other people. Don't I wish it were that avoidable. Hell is me. I would be perfect if I didn't exist.

One thing I have learned about myself is that there is no single thing in the world I find so desirable as that state of mind in which I forget I exist. This is why I know I can never try heroin. This is why I know I can absolutely never, ever, surrender my consciousness to any kind of hard drug whatsoever. Because my consciousness would be completely eradicated by any such experiment. And I would find that state of eradication to be the single most desirable thing I had ever experienced. When I forget I exist, all kinds of wonderful things happen to me. I play awesome shows, I beat previous high scores, I get laid. These things never happen to me when I'm thinking about it. Thinking is the single biggest impediment to doing. Ever. Thinking is highly overrated and, for me, utterly useless. When I think about what notes to play I play the wrong ones. When I think about how to approach a woman... I usually don't. When I start to think about anything at all is when it usually all goes to shit. Most people everywhere live their entire lives in a state of such insentience. And it fills me with gibbering, incoherent rage, born strictly of jealousy.

How to stop thinking? How to render myself supine and supplicant to every ecstasy life has to offer? Because I've seen enough of my life to know that rewards only come to me when I'm not seeking them. Is it even possible in this day and age to go in for a voluntary lobotomy? I'm pretty sure I'm the ultimate candidate.

One of the things I've been telling my friends lately, and one piece of my own wisdom I seem completely unable to take to heart myself, is that control is an illusion. We have little to no control over our own lives. The most we can affect is the most trivial of details. You can turn the boat, but you can't fight the current. To put it into the more abstract and pseudo-mathematical terms of which I am so fond of reducing my life and those of others, all of our lives, all of everybody's lives everywhere, are simply a manifestation of potential energy becoming kinetic, as all potential energy is wont to do. My most original, and favorite, prayer is this: make of me a plastic wal-mart bag, O Lord, and blow me in the wind of your will. Que sera sera. Let it be, oh let it be.

Every night I pay off my debts.
Trust me I don't forget.
Tonight
Every night
I will analyze everything
And make myself count the ways
I fucked up today.

check out www.myspace.com/theinstantwinners and check out my new song, mr silverstein. best thing i've done in years. go ahead, tell me how awesome it is.

Mr. Silverstein
I need something from you
Won't you tell me please
Say the story
Has another end
Where I don't lose my missing piece

Say you got a call
From Hollywood producers
In Heaven late last night
Who said this simply would not work
And demanded a rewrite

They'd shown the script
To marketing
And it wasn't testing well
And they needed you
To change some things
Around so it would sell

It's a picture Jerry Bruckheimer
And Tom Cruise want to do
And all these people
Have their reasons
And I have reasons too

Like everywhere I go
There are strangers with her name
And paintings with her face
Every drive I take
I pass by her house
She lives everyplace

And every song I hear
Would sound better from her lips
Every melody be sweeter
And every room
Would light up if it was
The room where I could meet her

And every radio
In every discount store
Sings her songs to me
And she's where I'm not
So change the plot
Mr Silverstein

(solo)

And the bittersweet
Still lingers in my mouth
As if it's wanting to
It'd be easier gone
But then I'd miss
The bittersweet of you

Just a Little Off
You scored 11 out of forty on the psychopathy scale Youre not mad by any means, but the average score for a "normal" person is around five. Look on the bright side; at least you've got enough corks to make you interesting. Try to cut back on the number of kittens you eatthey can give you poor digestion.


My test tracked 1 variable How you compared to other people your age and gender:

You scored higher than 50% on Maddness

Link: The Are You an Psychopath Test written by Elias_Killjoy on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the 32-Type Dating Test