Brad Carps

"“The Moon was crying.” That’s what I told my 6-year-old son as we marched into the..."

Wed, 15 Feb 2012 15:04:31 -0800

“

“The Moon was crying.” That’s what I told my 6-year-old son as we marched into the Ogallala tunnels when the debris started falling, and the sky was filled with endless meteor trails. We wouldn’t see the surface for another 3 years, and by then, the Kansas landscape was red and unrecognizable. Forget “the Dust Bowl”—this is a rock bowl. Few really speak of the asteroid mines and the explosion—I mean, not much we can do to change the past, right? Well sure, The Prophets do, but their caravan doesn’t pass through that often, anymore.

Many have struck out to resettle, but we are staying in the caverns, where water is still plentiful, for the moment. I have a new desalinizer concept I think will enable us to expand farther West, possibly towards the Grand Canyon. Besides, Mark is getting comfortable in the school, and I don’t want to subject him to life in those caravans. In a way, I’m glad that Mark was too young to remember his family back East. I’ve heard terrible stories of tsunamis and floods and… sigh and what /was/ a job relocation in hard times turned out to be close call and a fresh start. It hurts, but I have to think of the future. Who knows, maybe when Mark settles down and I retire, I’ll join those caravans and try to find some answers…

”

- Alan “Lefty” Berkowitz, citizen of Ogallala Cavern, survivor of The Fall

will pay $20 for you to defecate in NEW litter box (San Francisco)

Sat, 21 Jan 2012 13:41:34 -0800

the litter box is behind the two red folding chairs in our front yard. it has clean litter and a fresh liner, so PLEASE DO NOT BRING YOUR OWN LITTER, OR LINER. I CANNOT STAND THAT PINE “ORGANIC” CRAP!

you will ring my doorbell 4 times in the afternoon of the agreed upon day.

i will watch from a distance, to make certain you live up to your end of the bargain. THIS IS THE ONLY REASON because i am not a voyeur.

there will be toilet paper and a garden hose available just in case.

i will drop $20 through the mail slot after you finish and ring the doorbell one final time.

WE WILL HAVE NO CONTACT WHATSOEVER.

if you have done this before i am open to negotiation.

IT IS IMPORTANT THAT YOU ARE NOT A SEX PROFESSIONAL

it’s NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
Compensation: $20 USD

Yeah, this is a re-post, but I thought I would try for the yay area. I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again—this is basically the best Craigslist template, ever.

Dream Treehouse Home in Upscale Server (Minecraft)

Thu, 15 Dec 2011 16:44:00 -0800

Built by renowned architect 200found, this home is one of the most unique in the area. At one time it was a featured home on the Minecraft Street of Dreams, an annual luxury home tour. Tucked away in a quiet server of TheShizz County, this elegant home will take your breath away.

This home includes an open design, loft library and workshop, a greatroom with stunning views from its wraparound decks and ready access to nearby mines, lava, and water. The property requires no maintenance or watering, featuring native oaks, stone and obsidian. Sheep often graze beside the house and a fence keeps most creepers and zombies at bay. The front door is reached via an elevated bridge structure that passes through the oaks.

Other amenities include:

Swimming pond connected via wooden waterway
Vaulted mushroom ceilings and floors
Reinforced cobblestone columns
Lava defense system
Treasure room
Lovely wildlife views
Integrated and tasteful lighting throughout

Neighborhood: TheShizz server has always boasted a family friendly community with plenty to do! The house is close to an underground farm and mob spawner and its many recreational activities nearby. There is easy access to the nearby river trail, a wishing well, underground ravine for hunting and mining, and even a public portal to the Nether!

Location: TheShizz
it’s NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

Gothic Houseplant for the busy hipster - $15 (Sacramento, CA)

Sun, 27 Nov 2011 17:05:00 -0800

Want the joy of a houseplant but are too dark to have living things? Have a busy schedule and don’t have time to feed or water your existing plants?

HOLY CRAP DO I HAVE THE PLANT FOR YOU

This ficus was lovingly trained and starved but now it needs a better home—I am currently unemployed and am tempted to water it.

If you are interested we also have two orchids available.

Pots not included.

Your Google+ account has been deleted

Mon, 29 Aug 2011 17:42:36 -0700

We’re sorry to see you leave! Please help us improve by telling us why you are leaving and what we can do better. This survey is optional but your feedback is much appreciated. Please tell us why you’re leaving:

I am doing it partly because I don’t have time for so many social networks, and partly out of protest.

I don’t have time for Google Plus. I already don’t have time for Facebook, but i still post and comment there because it reads my posts from Twitter, which I scarcely have time for. I may rejoin Plus at that point, but the communication will be one-way.

I do it out of protest because of how Google is seeking to require real identites on their services. Anonymity and pseudonymity are vital to political discourse, human rights, whistleblowing, humor, and more. “Real users are worth more to our advertisers” is not reasoning that is compatible with my ethical framework.

—200found, a longtime user, fan, and developer.

"You should eat food. Good food. Not poison. That would be bad. At least to most of us. Or some of..."

Tue, 23 Aug 2011 23:05:55 -0700

“You should eat food. Good food. Not poison. That would be bad. At least to most of us. Or some of us. I’m sure a couple, anyways. Most likely including you. So, healthy stuff. All natural. But no bacterias, even though they are natural, too. You should irradiate them into oblivion. They deserve it. Trust me on this. I’m very trustworthy in a secret agent sort of way, handing off vital information to valuable informations like you. You are definitely informant material, though you would likely “color” the truth a bit. For money or more probably for your own amusement. Just please don’t burn down anything that will be missed by anyone important. Important people should not be pissed off because they have ninjas and the likelihood of a Chuck Norris intevention is rather low, unless you could get a ninja to insult Chuck Norris. They don’t talk much, but you may just be that awesome. Good Luck.”

- Zach

Free plaster skull for evil villain, mastermind, dictator, or mage. (North Highlands, CA)

Mon, 15 Aug 2011 17:26:00 -0700

This skull has served me well as a focus for my villainy and misdeeds, but I am retiring and must part with it.

It is not enchanted or cursed. It is about the size of your fist (not my barbarian, ham-fists).

Her name is “Ginger”.

Evil types, only. Union-preferred. no vampires or clerics, please.

Please include a brief description of your villany and I will pass them on to Ginger for judgment.

UPDATE: Included is the correspondence from “Juan”:

looking to pick up the skull for my pirate fish tank decoration were you located if you still have it

Hello Juan. Ginger does not view the bottom of a fish tank as a place of honor. Thank you anyway.

—Brad

its a fucking school made of shit that goes on your arm when broke get a life dude

Juan, I’m afraid your message was not well-received by Ginger. She alternated between annoyance about how you ignored the specific requests in the ad, confusion about your mysterious phrasing, and anger about your overall tone. But I assure you, her requests for me to start a dark ritual involving Lord Satan (praise be to Him) at the suggestion she live a life covered with fish poop has been ignored.

—Brad

you need jesus in your life nicca head torwards some light and leave behind your holiday frights for halloween buddy its only 2 months away woooooosaaaaaaaa,reapeat with ginger woooooosssaaaaaaaaa

Hello again, Juan. I am not certain who Jesus of Nicca is, however, I looked up your name in the union records, and practicing the dark arts (specifically chanting) without a license or membership in the greater union can get you in a lot of trouble, ESPECIALLY around Hallows Eve.

As for your advice regarding light, that is a mere cantrip, and are at-will.

—Brad

UPDATE: Justen pays me a compliment.

This would look good on my dresser I can pick it up later today

Hi Justen. Your last name sounds fairly evil. Can you please confirm for Ginger, perhaps with a tale of a dastardly deed? Thanks in advance!

—Brad

Dude I just want the skull cuz it looks cool but you are downright fuckin weird so never mind

Hi Justen. Thank you for the compliment. As the ad stated, I was looking for an evil home for Ginger. Thanks anyway!

—Brad

More, later.

Adventures In Death Bus

Fri, 03 Jun 2011 01:26:26 -0700

I don’t know the right way to describe this aspect of me, but I like to cause trouble, to push boundaries, to tinker. When I play games, I like to understand what the developer had in mind, because I have been involved in game development—it’s interesting to me.

Every week or so, I get to play Grand Theft Auto IV (I don’t own a console), and in that game, every vehicle has a certain, fixed amount of damage it can take. Certain parts of the vehicles take more damage than others, certain ones less. Me and my friend Brandon have discovered that the front of the bus is nearly invulnerable.

Fluke or not, “death bus” is the perfect vehicle to go on a 1-3 star rampage through the city. As long as you can avoid people shooting at you or otherwise damaging your rear, you are effectively invincible.

As you might imagine, this makes for an amusing session.

The police can not stop you if you ram them: their own cars will explode before even come close to stopping Death Bus.

I recommend changing views and slowing the action down. This resulted in the most surreal Death Bus moment: with the Bossa Nova jazz station playing, Brandon drove the “America’s Next Top Hooker: It’s Back” Death Bus behind a cop who was walking through a park, spinning his baton. The view changed such that the bus looked like a shark off in the distance.

We have yet to destroy Death Bus by frontal collision. Please let me know if you have managed this.

Attention

Thu, 10 Mar 2011 19:51:07 -0800

A student said to Zen Master Ichu, “Please write for me something of great wisdom.”

Master Ichu picked up his brush and wrote one word: “Attention.”

The student said, “Is that all?”

The master wrote: “Attention. Attention.”

The student became irritable. “That doesn’t seem profound or subtle to me.”

In response, Master Ichu wrote: “Attention. Attention. Attention.”

In frustration, the student demanded, “What does this word ‘attention’ mean?”

Master Ichu replied, “Attention means attention.”

My Sweet Tea Recipe

Tue, 22 Feb 2011 23:55:00 -0800

On those rare occasions I do entertain, I like to make sure there is some form of tea available, be it Chinese, chai, milk tea, or sweet tea. If I am running low on loose tea to serve or am craving something sweet, I like to make a batch of this.

Measure out a quart (4 cups) of fresh water, and bring to a boil.
Add 3 teaspoons or 3 bags of black tea. I prefer an Assam/oil of bergamot blend. If you’re looking for bulk, I recommend your local Asian food store. I buy my nice tea from Teaspring.com
Optional: To reduce the caffeine, pour the water out and steep again with fresh water and the same tea.
Stir in 3/4 to 1 cup of sugar. Unprocessed sugar will taste less bitter than cane sugar.
Listen: add a pinch of baking soda to take away the bitterness and clarify the tea. This is very important!
Let steep for about 3-5 minutes or until it’s as dark as you like.
Remove the tea. If you use bags, don’t squeeze them.
Serve over ice or refrigerate for a stronger tea.
Add a sprig of mint or rosemary and a squeeze of lemon.

If you have any suggested improvements, please let me know!

"Why?" Part 1

Wed, 19 Jan 2011 05:48:15 -0800

I often have a hard time answering the question “why Buddhism?” This morning, I woke up with an insight: Zen is housecleaning for your mind.

I don’t generally dream. While I sleep, I think my brain instead just crunches thoughts I’ve pondered throughout the day while it is the least distracted.

I am going to attempt to elaborate on this answer throughout the week.

Free Cat to Loving Home or Wherever

Sun, 26 Dec 2010 19:04:00 -0800

FOR YOUR IMMEDIATE CONSIDERATION

One, large, neutered, all-white, 13-year-old male cat with all his shots. Responds to “The White Kitty” and is in good health and fine temperament, with a few minor exceptions.

This cat meows like a broken, skipping record. Even after you feed him, change his litter and water, pet him, and keep him warm, he will not relent. It may seem completely random, but I assure you that his method is your madness.

A mild stroke has caused this cat’s head to slightly tilt to one side, like an owl looking around a corner. It does not seem to adversely impact him, though it has earned him the nickname “Crooked-head Panther-face.”

The White Kitty displays affection with snot. He will show his appreciation for all your food and warmth and petting by sneezing directly into your face and on everything you value. Books, personal electronics, food, clothes… everything is fair game for his love and he will love you.

If your legs have a tendency to cramp, it is not advisable to allow him access to your bedroom. He lives for the warmth between your legs and will find his way under your covers to secure this strategic position. He particularly enjoys sleeping with people and has no qualms about watching or interrupting any bedroom activities, especially at 4am: his preferred feeding time.

The White Kitty is connoisseur of human flavors. He will enjoy licking your arm, face, foot, and head at all times of the day. At the end of the day, when he is relatively silent, he will spend a great deal of time licking, munching and otherwise loudly chewing on himself with very little shame.

I recommend installing a pet door for the cat to enter and exit your house. Otherwise, this cat will wait in the door frame for minutes, deciding if he really wants to venture out.

Food he will snub, toys he does not play with, and litter he will scatter everywhere are included.

NO REFUNDS OR EXCHANGES

who was OldDirtyBtard?

Tue, 02 Nov 2010 05:12:58 -0700

A 50-year-old troublemaker from the UK. He had an intense fondness for Mudkips.

RIP, OldDirtyBtard

Mon, 01 Nov 2010 18:28:00 -0700

I was just now informed that ODB finally committed suicide. We weren’t too close, but I’d like to say a few words.

He was a good guy to me; always helpful, funny, and nice. He showed me around Encyclopedia Dramatica so I wouldn’t look like a fool, and taught me how to use wikis. He gave me good advice during some internet drama I’m not particularly proud of.

After I gave up internet trolling, he recommended the work of Dalai Lama, during our discussions on Buddhism and the nature of suffering. This was extremely important to me because I was on an atheist streak, and wrote off Tibetan Buddhism as being too ritualistic to be of value. Little did I know!

His pending suicide was no great secret on ED; it’s been “a quarter ‘til midnight” for awhile now. He may have been an internet troll, but he was a hell of a guy. I am glad he is no longer suffering. Goodnight, sweet prince.

The Queen's Wave

Thu, 30 Sep 2010 19:24:00 -0700

For some reason, people love to shout at me while I walk home from work. Maybe it’s my height or my new beard, or that I’m read-walking, but today I managed to interrupt them with loud laughter. It was just quick enough that I could see their reply expression.

Friend Shawna taught me a similar technique for dealing with obnoxious drivers: get everyone else in the car to slowly do the queen’s wave until they are no longer in visual range. It’s the disarming, creepy opposite of road rage.

A Concerned Letter to the Banned Book Week Project Regarding "The Catcher in the Rye"

Tue, 28 Sep 2010 18:46:26 -0700

Greetings, fellow caretakers, librarians, intellectuals, and members of bannedbooksweek.org. I am writing to encourage you to remove any mention of J.D. Salinger’s The Catcher in the Rye from your list, campaign, and website, so future generations of students may be saved from the chore of reading this “classic.”

While it’s a classic in the sense that it is widely distributed, it’s a chore, an offline MySpace blog about a self-absorbed, obnoxious twit. To clarify, I don’t believe the book should be banned. No, that was exactly the cause of its fame, and why I was subjected to it during my youth. It should be ignored as poor literature, relinquished to a dusty shelf to rot in the forgotten library of our inattention.

As a teenager, I recall it was banned because of the extensive use of curse words, in particular, “fuck,” and every time I attempt to re-read it, that exact word comes to mind. As in, “why the fuck am I reading this again, this is the third fucking time?” or “J.D.-fucking-Salinger would not have had a career if this fucking book was not banned.”

Please pardon my coarse language. My inner voice is often quite harsh in regards to this particular topic.

While I doubt my request will be seriously considered, please at least take the time to re-read it for yourselves to verify my claim, or read it for the first time. Then proceed on to something more rewarding. Personally, I am poring through a wonderfully-illustrated copy of Twain’s The Innocents Abroad, which I highly recommend. I wish I was forced to read Twain as a teenager, instead of Salinger. Perhaps I would have started on the classics, sooner.

Finally, I don’t blame you for your well-intentioned and largely positive campaign. I just wish my former teacher had chosen chosen a different book from your list.

Thank you for your consideration.

"Kindness" by Naomi Shihab Nye

Sat, 18 Sep 2010 12:31:00 -0700

Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand,
what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and chicken
will stare out the window forever.

Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness,
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans
and the simple breath that kept him alive.

Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.

Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day to mail letters and
purchase bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
it is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you every where
like a shadow or a friend.

Passion sets a Precedent

Fri, 17 Sep 2010 05:36:32 -0700

Your passion will not only inspire others, it will make it more acceptable for them to follow in your footsteps. This is important to remember while your critics are sharpening your swords.

Being truthful, speaking my mind about what needs to be done, and following the [written] rules may cost me my job, but I have the satisfaction of genuine improvement and I sleep well at night.

If I am fired, I find another job. So it goes.

My Review of "9/11"

Sat, 11 Sep 2010 21:11:00 -0700

“A group of militant, mostly Saudi troublemakers convince the superpowers of the world to strip away many of their freedoms in the most ineffective and expensive game of cat and mouse ever.”

Several new friends of mine have asked me the old question “why is 9/11 a joke to you?” and my answer is still: I read a lot of Kurt Vonnegut Jr. If he was still alive, I am certain he would have written a piercing, witty tale of the life of Khalil Ibrahim Omar al-Muslit, Saddam’s supposed driver. Or perhaps the brief tale of the world’s most nervous suicide bomber!

Humor is quite possibly the best coping mechanism our species has. I wasn’t myself after 9/11 until I saw the home page art on The Onion. It had an amazing “9/11… HOLY SHIT” feel to it, and shocked me back to my senses.[1] There is a time for mourning, but that time is not forever. To paraphrase an ancient saying: “over time, the tragic becomes funny.”[2]

9/11 has become a tool for intolerance, divisive politics, and justification for all manners of heinous international warcrimes. In my opinion, this is far more debasing of the memory than my tasteless jokes.

As usual, I present “The 9/11 Terrorcore Mix,” by the GeoJedi, one of the finest commentaries on 9/11 to date:

A higher-resolution version can be found at his site: http://www.geojedi.org/professorpost911/

Shame their archive doesn’t seem to have it.
I have experienced and witnessed the truth of this statement countless times. My best stories are my most embarrassing or tragic.

I Really Like Pie

Mon, 06 Sep 2010 22:38:24 -0700

Brad: Someone is feeding me the old argument that if enough people don't vote, it will send a message to Washington, and somehow, things will change, as though inaction is a boycott. Naturally, I pointed out that if only 10% of people vote, then they simply hold all the power.
Brad: If other people stop eating the pie out of principle, it means more pie for those who still partake.
Brad: And shit, I love pie.
Brad: I wish I had a pie fetish.
Brad: Except I wouldn't stick my dick in a pie, I would just dive into it.
Brad: See, that would be the best thing about those micro sex fetishes: pie and all other delicious food is bigger.
Brad: Ha, I was just about to write "who gives a shit about sex."
Brad: Man, I am getting old.
Brad: Apparently I rank food higher than sex now.
Brad: Becky was watching this one TV show about people going to a strip club, and one of the older main characters was saying how such clubs were degrading, but suddenly exclaimed "come to poppa!" -- he was talking about the breakfast and wings buffet, offscreen.