January 2004

Original article posted by ravenpaine:

Which is honestly not the goal around here.

I have reached a set of tawdry kinds of conclusions and I would like to adress some of them off of my soapbox and directly into the minds of the citizenry.

I have wronged some people in my time. Almost everyone, actually. Some times I feel justified in such actions, other times I do not. Some times I want to apologize for things that went wrong and some times I want to say things that cannot be said. Other times I want the demented pig fucker that such comments have been lobbed at to twist in the wind and leak from the bowels until he dies.

The latter is much less common then the former.

I suppose the problem with living in a reactionary life is that there will always be something esle to yell out into the world and so few times to simply erase the things that you have done. The unfwitting and unfortunate comprimise is that you must always carry some fragment of the mistake with you. My solution is then to do what I can and make up for it later. Make your mistakes then clean up your mess. It takes a lot less time and aside from the pissing off, insulting, angering, humiliating, and ostrecising almost everyone its a pretty good system.

So here I am. I feel rotten. Shitty, braindrained. In certain cultures ritual suicide is prescribed for errors of this sort. My obsession with honor makes this sound like a solution but my undying belief that living is the only real solution keeps me from it.

There is an apology in here somewhere. It exists between the lines and around the words and says what I want to say in a way that I just cannot say it.

The redcress of grievences thing that I normally try for involves everybody yelling at everybody until things work properly. The problem with this system is that when you fear hurting the person you have a problem with, and you exasperate this condition through a thorough distrust of yourself and your intentions, the end result is that everyone must remain angry and confused and hurt for longer while the solution wanders around stabbing Roman’s in the spine and laughing at you because you didn’t end this sentence when it was a sentence instead of now when the meaning has fled into a rose colored sky somewhere south of Topeka where it will meet a fur trapper turned surfer named Leo and find true happiness at the bottom of the ocean in a bar owned by none other than Napoleon.

Because that would have been a helluva lot more useful then the thing I just typed.

Rodney TGAP
reluctant misanthrope, confused asshole, unrepentant friend


Original article posted by Greg:

Thought I should take an opportunity to write something about ryan. Something entirely true and scathing and possibly rhyming with ‘pants.’

Or possibly none of those things.

Ryan, I don’t know if you’re ever going to come back to the site – I mean, I know I would with a kind of sick fascination to see what people are saying about me, because I’m sick. And fascinated. And sick. – but hey, I hope you read this.

First off, sucka, thanks for the bandwith.

Everybody should know the following things about Ryan:
He has donated his server, his bandwith, his hard-drive space, his time, his thoughts, his programming skills, and his good nature to this website. Anybody who has ever looked upon Six Mile Village should be aware that this is all thanks to Ryan’s efforts. Nobody else involved has donated as much, nor made such an effort. In fact, all that Greg did was take a program that Ryan had already made workable and customize it for the site.

And never asked a thing in return. I mean, I made him an Administrator, but he never asked to be. He just deserved it.

Heck, when we were telling him what we wanted, he would say “No you dont, you want this-and-that.” and he was right. So much of the concept side of things is also his fault. The development would never have been so streamlined without him.

Anyway, no matter what his flaws may be as a roommate, or sappy boyfriend, or anything else – he’s a plain good guy for giving so much for his friends. And I don’t think anybody would disagree.

Just don’t want you to feel underappreciated.

Original article posted by Greg:

After a trip to the St. George Temple on Monday, my girlfriend expressed a desire to go to the visitors center. I thought this was a bit strange, as she has spent many months working in a visitors center in the midwest.

How strange. How strange, I thought.

While in the visitors center, you can hear a message about Christ, delivered in the room with the Christus Statue. It’s nice and peaceful, and also happens to have something like 160 language options.

“We’d like to hear the Christus message in Mandarin, please.” Says Kayeleen.

So I got to meet the language I’m going to spend the next two years studying intently. It sounded like… well, a foriegn language. It was a bunch of wah wah wah wah ni mao mao maos in a string. I have NO idea. It was eerie in a way to hear this language and think that in two years time I will probably be able to understand just fine what is being said.

Or not. I suppose I could end up with only the most basic of understandings. But I intend to do well.

Anyway, that’s all I have to say right now.


Original article posted by ryan:

Several months ago, Greg and Rodney had a great idea for a website. To create a place where they could coalesce all of their ideas, stories, rants etc etc that have been constantly flowing out from them ever since before I’ve known them. They just needed a place and the means to do it.

So I got involved. I had the server and I had an interest in helping my friends out. I will admit that things have gotten hectic and I have not had the time to put as much into this project as I would have liked. But low and behold, the site is now in full swing.

However, the site has turned out somewhat different than I had imagined. I envisioned a site where we could share ideas and creations we have. Not about things that if you wanted to, you could come down the hall and bitch me out about. I had never imagined paying for a server and bandwidth that would be slanderous to myself. I hadn’t imagined living in an environment where in real life we have conversations like: “Hey how you doin? fine. How are you? fine.” but I have to come online to find out someones true feelings about me. Instead of pulling the plug on the whole site as was my first reaction, I calmed down. I’m ok.
Then I had an idea.

Why not create a new topic that is all about me?
Sure, I might come here and post things occasionally, but this topic is for you guys. Comment on whatever you like or dislike about me. Uncensored, and all the way live.


Orginal comments:

Nickname: ravenpaine
Re: New Ryan Topic
It had demn well better be all the way live. And for the credit and discredit of others, I have to say that I will not stop yakking about things that I will later have to apologize for until such time that someone cuts off both my arms and rips out my tongue. So look out Ryan topic you shall see slander and then you shall see a retraction and then again and again until I learn not to.

Nickname: gandhi2
ryan is such an elitist. “look at me! i’m ryan, and i have my very own personal thread, where people can bitch about me and me alone, lalalalala…”

Original article posted by Greg:

It’s that time of year again, folks. Time to tune up the recliner. Time to stake out a spot at your favorite sports bar. Time to ask yourself “Where are the Panthers from again?”

It’s Superbowl time.

According to MSNBC.com, 54 percent of americans watch at least some of the superbowl. 54 percent. Do you realize how huge that is? That means that at least every other person you have ever known, ever cared about, ever walked by on the street, will be watching this sunday.

If the Superbowl ads were an infectious disease, we would be in serious, SERIOUS trouble by now.

Ah yes, the ads. THE ADS! It all began in 1985 with a fateful tech-noir epic paid for by the Apple corporation. The commercial ended with both a hammer flying into a gigantic television screen and a confused home audience and then never was broadcast on network television again. I think in most cases it happened like this:

“What the deuce?”

But then humanity said, “Hey, that was cool. I’ve never seen that before. Somebody just spent a bunch of money to get me to see something that doesn’t really make sense. Can we do that again? As a consumer, I’m interested in beer and sexy ladies.” Nearly 2 decades later we have ads of an elderly couple beating the crap out of each other to get a bag of Lays Potato Chips. We have Terry Tate tackling an office worker who is slacking on the job.

We have the Bud Bowl.

I have to tell you the truth. I haven’t cared one whit who won or lost the football game for the past 8 years. I have muted the television till the commercials came on. Then I and my critic cohorts have laughed at, commented on, reviewed, criticized, and occasionally ignored the commercials.

Is it possible that 54 percent of americans tune in because the commercials are more entertaining than that other thing that happens at the superbowl? That maybe that game thing is just a way to mark time between commercial breaks?

Well, no. That would be ridiculous.

But maybe that 4 percent… maybe that’s how it is for them.

So here’s the question – How much of the game do you watch versus the commercials? Do you still ignore the Superbowl commercials like you would any other? Do you even watch TV? And do you have a historically favorite superbowl ad you would like to mention here? Please leave comments below.

-Six Mile News team

Orginal comments:

Nickname: Chellee
Re: I Watch it for the Ads
Hello, the ads! I went to a friend’s house to watch the superbowl, but we all sat in the kitchen eating fondu until someone yelled, “Commercials!!! The commercials are on!!!” At which point there was a stampede to the t.v. room with much pushing and toe smashing. It came to the point where we actually set up another t.v. in the kitchen just so we could see the ads while dipping bread, fruit, and meat in the various toppings. It was fabulous.

The best part of the game is the half time show…

Original article posted by ravenpaine:

There are No Bakeries Along the Lonely Highway
an Essay of American Life by Rodney TGAP

It was late Monday evening and I was headed home for the 4th of July. My intent in going home was to ensure that my associates would rally together enough to bake cookies to hand out at the parade, as has become our tradition. Deep within me I knew this was a futile hope. All of my associates had become increasingly hostile and self-centered lately. I would not say that they had fallen completely off of the good deed barometer but they really were not putting any effort into anything any more. Neither was I for that matter, but at least I had the presence of mind to admit it.

Embarking on this journey I came to a sudden realization that there is a very large lack of bakeries along the highways of our “great” nation. Convenience stores and gas stations abound on all of life’s highways. But truly there is no place to stop, to smell the wondrous rising dough and purchase a dozen fresh glazed. The Krispe Kreme craze is one that I have only been told about and not really been exposed too. Therefore I find it increasingly difficult to understand how people will occasionally risk their lives for a fresh glazed donut.

I do however see their point metaphorically. Who wouldn’t risk their lives to grasp on to one pure moment? One fresh original thing, made with care, or some monosodium glutamate replacement. Too often we sacrifice the things around us that are important for things that are less so. I do not think that humanity, and particularly Americans are sadists or masochistic, but I do believe that we are gullible, tired, and afraid. Thus did we create religion.

Do not get me wrong, I have faith. I have a spiritual belief in things that I cannot see and that I have a problem understanding or explaining. I just do not happen to carry around a brand name version of it. I do not subscribe to any church or religion’s newsletter. Actually I subscribe to all of them, but that is another essay altogether. The reason I mention religion is that people use religion as a crutch more often then is really necessary.

It is understandable to need to believe in something bigger than yourself, I admit to it, but that is no reason to give up leading any sort of life merely for the benefit of never having to think again. Like Fyodor Dostyevsky said in The Brothers Karimozov Jesus died for us to give us free will, and slowly, through many generations and much strife the Catholic Church was able to remove the free will from its believes and tell them what to do and when to do it. Problem with that is it’s horrible. No one, honestly, wants to live as a slave or a zombie. If they did then I would certainly have fewer qualms about manipulating the thousands of people who adore me.

Free Will, or Free Agency, or Human Nature, whatever semantic ammo you take with you everyone is carrying the same .45 caliber truth. Some people do not know how to load their guns, some people have trouble aiming. Some people take delight in shooting straight into the air, with no prevailing worry about where that bullet will land. Occasionally you find someone who has a sense of responsibility to the people around them and they take careful time to aim and shoot when and where needed. But there are a lot of enemies and only a few people who can handle a firearm properly.

Well, the driver on this walk across America has been trying to kill me for the last thirty minutes by swerving quickly, driving too fast around corners and making kissy faces at the Gandhi riding shotgun. I feel that continuing on would be pointless for the time being and will merely putter out a final few lines and words about the importance of the true heart in us all that is desperately seeking a fresh glazed donut and a warm sympathetic person to lend us the money to purchase one while we cruise along the American highway of life.

Original article posted by ravenpaine:

Journal of a Night

Entry 28 – January 28

So yesterday afternoon I had the misfortune of hearing an odd repetitive beeping noise. At first I thought that it was my speakers giving out or my PS2 doing somthing odd. Neither of these were the case. I then suspected that Ryan had left something on in his room. This was also not the case.

I think that the noise is coming from upstairs, in that place where technically no one is living because there is no power but I keep hearing noises from up there so I have to wonder, I said to myself.

So I stalked up the stairwell to the top an opened the door that is chained from the opposite side. When smoke billowed out I realized that drastic action had to be taken. I reared back and let forth with a stirring BOOT and the door ripped assunder. I ran down the hallway to find the impetus of the smoke. Candle wax had caught a shoebox lid on fire and was quickly spreading across the bathroom counter. I slapped at the fire ineffectively with my hand, and in a moment of stupid panic tried blowing on it.

When sanity and Vincent kicked in I used a plunger to shove the mess into the sink and started spraying water on it, while soaked toilet paper wrapped about the plunger took care of the counter.

For the rest of the day I played Baldurs Gate Dark Alliance II, which rocks.

That was a day.

Rodney TGAP
Bonne nuit, bonne nuit to you all.

Orginal comments:

Nickname: ravenpaine
Re: Ben Boot Action!
Massive and important update.

I did in fact save the house with in mere moments of large scale ignition according to experts who investigated the fire site. So, I’m a would be hero, because you don’t get a lot of praise when you prevent things from happening, the praise comes only when you save animals or precious objects from the blaze.

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