<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715</id><updated>2012-02-15T23:11:21.815-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gabriel Koenig Web Log</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>79</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-4935686700173744929</id><published>2009-04-01T14:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T14:54:50.960-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Music Videos with Different Music</title><content type='html'>I just had one of the coolest things happen to me. I was listening to some music (Of Montreal) on the computer while going through the school website to get to the eResources in the library section. On the front of the library page there was an embedded music video by some artist or something. At first I clicked past it, but then I thought I should check it out if the library thought it was worth embedding on their front page. So I went back. I didn't want to stop the music I was listening to so I decided I'd just mute the video player, since it was probably the visuals that were the best part anyways. I started the video playing and then all of a sudden The Party's Crashing Us (by Of Montreal) started playing almost in response. I continued to watch in awe as the video almost perfectly synced up with the music, or vice versa I suppose. I couldn't believe how well they worked together. I never actually listened to the video's actual music but as far as I'm concerned it may as well be the video for The Party's Crashing Us. It was an amazing fluke how it worked out, essentially from start to end, completely perfect. The dancing in the video was even on time! The video was Department of Eages - No One Does It Like You. This experience has definitely interested me in the compatability of different music with different music videos. There are so many great music videos that are awesome independently of their music. The music can completely change the context of everything so switching the audio could definitely do some very interesting things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mostly though I just thought it was an incredible accident. That reminds me of a thought I had the other day and I'm not sure if it's entirely true, but accidents may just be the most beautiful thing in the world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-4935686700173744929?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/4935686700173744929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=4935686700173744929' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/4935686700173744929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/4935686700173744929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2009/04/music-videos-with-different-music.html' title='Music Videos with Different Music'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-6047924703557932886</id><published>2009-02-19T00:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-19T00:37:36.830-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Story in the Mind</title><content type='html'>I watched Alien 3 tonight. I had watched Alien and Aliens over the previous two weeks as I've been working my way through the quadrilogy. I thought Aliens was an amazingly awesome movie so going into Alien 3 I guess I had some expectations. It was a very different movie from the other two, I'm not sure if it was in a bad way though. It was just a very different mood and seemed almost completely detached from the other two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After finishing the movie I went to the imdb forums and started reading. I have never seen so much conflict in an imdb forum. There are a lot of people that have serious problems with the movie. I can understand why when reading their points. There are many plot holes and the film also kills off the only two other characters from the previous movie before this one even begins. I can't say it was a satisfying conclusion to the other two movies. And this is where I am very interested in how I feel about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All three movies are stories, thought up out of someone's head the same way my own imagination can do, or anybody's for that matter. The stories have been tied together by their names, characters, and visuals. But what really validates the stories as a fictional truth? Do I have to accept the events of the third movie as an unavoidable conclusion to the other two? Many people don't, I discovered reading on imdb. So can anyone ignore whatever parts of a story they want to? In my opinion this is an acceptable thing to do. The same way many people reject star wars episodes 1, 2 and 3. The author loses control of their characters and events the moment they share their creations with another person. In general, people like to accept the author's intent for the plot but is it necessary to do so? I think my imagined ending to a book I never finished is just as real as any ending. Maybe that goes against everything a story is supposed to be because it is very difficult to convince myself it's true. I'm fascinated by the feeling of unrest I share with many other fans over the plot of Alien 3. What if instead of watching the movie a friend just made up a different story for Alien 3 on the spot and told it to me? How would I feel about the story then if it didn't live up to my expectations? At what point and degree of delivery does the story develop enough authority to invest my feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like maybe I'm nerding out here and discussing the difference between fan fiction and recognized canon, but I think there's more to it than that. I could walk out of a movie half-way through and decide for myself how things end. The reason I can do this is because unlike real life, a story will only advance from within my own mind. So it is interesting to consider then how much interest we will give to a story that has been brought to a screen or text. If someone were to tell you a character in your favorite tv show was killed you would no doubt be intrigued and perhaps saddened, but realistically it is only the writer that has decided this is true. And what right does a writer have to decide a fact once you have carried the story into your own mind? I don't know. I need to think about this more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-6047924703557932886?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/6047924703557932886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=6047924703557932886' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/6047924703557932886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/6047924703557932886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2009/02/story-in-mind.html' title='The Story in the Mind'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-4044033197514128961</id><published>2009-02-11T01:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T01:31:54.049-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Personal Best</title><content type='html'>I just set a new personal record for longest time riding a public bus as the only passenger. I didn't keep track of time or stops but I can say that it was almost like riding a gigantic taxi for practically free.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-4044033197514128961?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/4044033197514128961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=4044033197514128961' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/4044033197514128961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/4044033197514128961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2009/02/new-personal-best.html' title='New Personal Best'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-4912536647887618202</id><published>2009-01-28T10:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T11:08:36.828-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Free Movie Making in Space</title><content type='html'>In amongst a ton of awesome dreams last night I had one that stood out as one of the most bizarre ideas I have ever dreamed up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was hanging out with some friends and I think we were in a fast food restaurant. One of my friends started telling me about this cool project that someone had done where they sent a bunch of space ships up into orbit around the earth. Each of the ships was equipped with cameras that could be accessed online. In addition to this, the space ships could also be controlled from online. Basic commands could be given to the ships by anyone using the website and then that person could save any video captured and essentially create any kind of space scene that they wanted for a movie. To solve the problem of the ships running out of power, the ships had been loaded with cows and grass. The cows would provide fertilizer for the grass while also creating some form of energy that the ship could use. The cows and ships were in theory capable of staying functional for an unlimited amount of time. I was impressed that they had managed to get so many cows up into space and that they were now just grazing in orbit. I was also excited about the potential of shooting video from space. It was at that point that the dream started making even less sense and I'm afraid I don't know exactly what happened, but I think the cows started dying for some reason.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-4912536647887618202?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/4912536647887618202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=4912536647887618202' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/4912536647887618202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/4912536647887618202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2009/01/free-movie-making-in-space.html' title='Free Movie Making in Space'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-2568178168387249002</id><published>2009-01-18T18:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T18:33:19.461-08:00</updated><title type='text'>That Metaphor</title><content type='html'>I have no problem with coming up with a ton of things to do and saying I'll do them all but then not actually do most of them. Is that basically a rewording of that metaphor about aiming for the stars? I think it's important to vocalize all your ideas, even if they seem unlikely to occur because there is a better chance that they will be remembered, (by anyone even), and they may eventually evolve into something. Not sure if I got that across properly. I've just thought about it several times about how I do make lots of plans for projects but complete almost none of them. No regrets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A micro-dream that I had briefly last night before falling asleep for the long slumber. I had only been out for a minute or so and then I woke up and realized that it was a funny dream but doubted very much I would remember it through to the morning. But I did remember it. I was hanging out with a friend and he needed change for a 20 dollar bill, for something, can't remember. He asked me if I could 'bend' it, which in my dream was actually a well-accepted term for breaking it into smaller change. I couldn't. So he suggested we go to a nearby convenience store to get a 'bender', which was another common term in the dream used to describe a relatively cheap product that is purchased for the sole reason of breaking a larger bill into smaller change. That's it. I actually really like those terms and will try to use them more in the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't posted anything here for a long time. It's been difficult to motivate myself, even though it takes very little time and is also a great way to back up ideas. I'll try harder.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-2568178168387249002?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/2568178168387249002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=2568178168387249002' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/2568178168387249002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/2568178168387249002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2009/01/that-metaphor.html' title='That Metaphor'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-1528475015052192297</id><published>2008-12-23T11:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T11:34:38.405-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pictionary and Beyond</title><content type='html'>I was playing pictionary a couple days ago with some friends. We didn't have the actual game so we googled for some sort of word generator site that we could. We found a forum discussion on that exact topic and used a link to one of the better suggested word generator sites. As we soon discovered many of the words were very difficult to draw, ie. Nominal, and we also had numerous issues with tenses that I myself have never encountered playing normal pictionary. I will not say the game was less fun though; if anything I was laughing harder each round. Some of the approaches to the more challenging words were so bizarre and so removed from the word itself that they became really interesting studies into how someone thinks. It made me want to do something more with pictionary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One idea I had was to choose a really impossible word to draw and then attempt to create an elaborate diagram that could conceivably be created during a pictionary game that would guarantee a single correct guess to who anyone that saw it. It would obviously require a good deal of planning but I think looking at a picture like that would be a lot of fun and be really interesting to see how a bunch of unrelated images could lead someone to just understand it as just one word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A second idea that would probably not work so well would be to play a normal pictionary game only the drawer is not allowed to draw the word in it's literal sense. Using words that rhyme, opposites, and considering larger contexts in which the word would appear the drawer would have to work around the basic image of the word to actually create a solid foundation for the use and understanding of the given word. It's almost like some kind of combination between the game Taboo and Pictionary. It could be a lot of fun. If I can ever convince a small group of people of the game's merits I intend to attempt just such a game.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-1528475015052192297?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/1528475015052192297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=1528475015052192297' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/1528475015052192297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/1528475015052192297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/12/pictionary-and-beyond.html' title='Pictionary and Beyond'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-580470786791985100</id><published>2008-12-19T20:34:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T20:55:01.258-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bipolar on Food</title><content type='html'>I can't think of anything else that makes me feel the way I feel about food. Most of the time I want food, often I want food so much that I can think of nothing else. And when I get food and eat it I generally want nothing to do with food anymore. The more I want food when I get food the more I find it repulsive after I have eaten it. This is all easily explainable, but I find it interesting that nothing else makes me feel this way. I suppose that I could play a game for half a day and not want to play it anymore, but that's not the same. I doubt I would have been craving the game so much that I wanted to play for such a long time, and I doubt I would hate the game at the end, I'd probably just want to do something else. So, I guess food is unique.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brief dreams from last night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In one dream my friend had made a movie based on a dream he had, and I watched the movie, and it didn't make much sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next dream I have a contruction light and I am walking around at night. I am trying to figure out where to set up the light to illuminate some object or space. I think it was supposed to be some kind of art work or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another dream I am sitting in the sand on a beach. The sand starts sinking slowly while I am sitting there. I notice some seaweed that is very slowly crawling away, I thought it was pretty cool at the time. I stand up and notice the sand is suddenly caving in where I had been sitting. It turns out to be some kind of creature living below the sand, like an anemone, and there are several on the beach. I am repulsed and angry because I had been sitting right above one. I want to kill them but I don't know how to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forgetting dreams now. A comment on conversation. One of the worst things that can happen in a conversation with someone you don't know very well is when someone mishears the other person and strongly agrees with a statement only to find out seconds later, when the person has to restate their position, that the person said the opposite of what they thought they had originally heard. It's awkward for both sides. And it leads to one of two conclusions. Either that person strongly disagrees with the other person on whatever the subject was, or perhaps more embarrassing, the one person just tried be agreeable by going along with what the other person said. After that point any hopes of serious discussion dwindle considerably. It happens.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-580470786791985100?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/580470786791985100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=580470786791985100' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/580470786791985100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/580470786791985100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/12/bipolar-on-food.html' title='Bipolar on Food'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-9051628425201440044</id><published>2008-12-10T23:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T23:27:28.229-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Thoughts on Potential</title><content type='html'>It just occurred to me. Potential is the most frightening concept. In every way. To think about all the things that something could become is more alarming than anything else I can think of. Just think about it for a second. Yeah. Not only has your life up to this point probably been wasted, but at any moment you could lose your mind entirely. THAT'S POTENTIAL. When was the last time you did the best you could do? You probably didn't. THAT'S POTENTIAL. How much less awesome will your day tomorrow be than it could be? THAT'S POTENTIAL. I know. Scary stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of scary I had a dream in which I was playing some form of game which involved being attacked by dinosaurs. Later in the dream when the dinosaurs weren't around I started thinking about the T-Rex and my heart rate shot way up. I really wonder if it was just in my dream, I hope it was. It was the most intense anxiety/fear I think I've ever felt. My pulse must have been above 200bpm. I checked my pulse when I woke up but it was normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of pulse, I've managed to get myself hooked on DDR, Dance Dance Revolution. It  is one of the best video games I have ever played. It's a tough game but the more I play the better I get, and the better I get the more exercise I get, and the more exercise I get the better I feel, and the better I feel the more I want to play the game. It works like that. I highly recommend it. It takes some time to get into but never before have I been so hooked on a healthy exercise activity. The only possible downside is that sometimes when I close my eyes or look at a blank wall I see arrows floating across the space. But really, there is no downside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of downsides, I have nothing more I want to write right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-9051628425201440044?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/9051628425201440044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=9051628425201440044' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/9051628425201440044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/9051628425201440044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-thoughts-on-potential.html' title='My Thoughts on Potential'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-5921424662016163706</id><published>2008-12-08T10:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T10:58:08.625-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Exciting Transit Dreams</title><content type='html'>Well I had a bunch of crazy dreams last night. The best ones unfortunately I either cannot remember well enough or they actually just don't make any sense outside of their context and it would be futile to try to explain them here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In one dream I was at a skytrain station with my friend. There were some areas kind of around the track that were made of really old wood. I don't know if we were exploring these areas or what but my friend suddenly had a handful of pennies* that he had found lying around in one of the spots. He knew that I would want them so he just gave them all to me. Then I started looking through them. They were pretty dirty but I was astonished when I discovered one from the 19th century. Then I found another one that was from 1316 or something. Obviously impossible, I don't even know when the first penny was made, but in my dream I believed it somehow and was pretty excited. My friend felt stupid then for just giving me the pennies because he knew they were probably very valuable. I was planning on adding the rare one to my dad's penny book** but I didn't know where they could possibly fit because the book started in the 20th century. I started putting the pennies into my backpack but somehow spilled all the contents of my bag instead. Then the train showed up and I was annoyed because I had to pick everything up and I missed the train.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the dream I was also aware of a special 'transit secret'. There was someway to get onto the skytrain that would basically give you free fare if you could manage it. I think I may have got it right earlier in the dream at some point but later on I couldn't figure it out again. I think it involved getting onto the train between cars when it pulled into the station. Then when it started moving again you could 'ghost' through the window or something, (the only way I can imagine getting back in). If you could accomplish that I think that you'd basically never have to show fare for the rest of your trip because technically and logically speaking you should never have been riding on the train in the first place because what you just did was impossible, (but actually just a secret). The best part was that every time you did it you got to go to the front of the train where the driver was sitting and they would give you a special die. I was trying to collect as many of these die as possible. I don't think there was anything particularly special about them. But they were nice, and they were free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next up, I was getting ready to get on a bus and I was trying to figure out which fare to use. I had my normal bus pass, but I also had this other fare form that was actually an eraser, like one of those big white staedler erasers. It had been used a bit already. Though I knew it was a valid form of fare, I suddenly forgot exactly what it's value was. It couldn't be a monthly pass because I already had one of those and it wasn't a single ticket either. I started questioning it because it started to seem strange that it was an eraser. I was asking my friend as we got to the front of the line to get on the bus but he couldn't answer my questions. I finally got on the bus and presented the eraser, with my hand in my pocket ready with my monthly pass just in case. The bus driver simply nodded. Relieved that it was valid I asked her what the eraser was because I couldn't remember exactly. She gave me some reply that didn't help me at all and then looked at my a little confused. I pretended to understand and went to the back of the bus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stopping the dreams now, I watched Dr. No last night. It was actually full of terrible but laughable parts. I think it's been such a long time since I've watched an older bond movie that I forgot that they were originally pretty full of cheese. The last Pierce Brosnan bond film seemed like such a joke but when compared to Dr. No it does seem like a totally valid bond film, for it's time at least. Possibly one of my favorite scenes from Dr. No was the terrible car chase. I just found it on youtube for anyone that wants to know why I like it so much. It will be obvious. &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fft1l_l8vR8"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fft1l_l8vR8&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*It is a life long goal of mine to collect enough pennies to be able to force them out of circulation.&lt;br /&gt;**My dad just recently got a book for collecting pennies as described in the dream.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-5921424662016163706?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/5921424662016163706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=5921424662016163706' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/5921424662016163706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/5921424662016163706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/12/exciting-transit-dreams.html' title='Exciting Transit Dreams'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-2278753008279269714</id><published>2008-12-05T10:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-05T10:38:28.914-08:00</updated><title type='text'>High Heels</title><content type='html'>Several strange (as aways) dreams I thought I'd record for posterity's sake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most abstract and least interesting dream had me trying to edit a video. The only way to edit the video though was to play ddr (dance dance revolution). And the only way to edit the video well was to do well on the harder difficulties. All I remember really is many arrows and frustration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up at some point thankfully and managed to enter a new narrative stream upon return to sleep. I was walking down the street and I was planning on meeting some friends somewhere. For some reason I stopped into a fast food restaurant. They specialized in hot dogs and french fries I think. By some accident that I cannot recall I ended up ordering french fries and a hot dog. For the small amount of food I was given I was charged $15 and I was really upset. I wasn't even hungry and I was planning on eating with my friends later anyways. I didn't make any complaints as I paid but I was very careful to make a point of not tipping. I left with all the fries tucked into the bun with the hot dog. I kept thinking I should try to return it but gave up once I exited through the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later I was in a mall with some old friends from high school. I thought it would be a great time to put on my high heel shoes, (no idea where I got them from). So I walked around through the mall in the shoes. I got on an escalator and realized I had no traction with my shoes and started sliding down. I didn't fall and it was actually very fun. Lots of people were looking at my shoes and I was returning there looks with smug smiles. I eventually started walking through a part of the mall that was dark and seemed under construction. There were multiple bars around here and I was worried someone in one of the bars would try to fight me because of my shoes. I realized I could always take them off and use them as a weapon but I hurried on. I really wanted to get out of the mall now. Suddenly all the people in the mall were swarming together. There was some kind of job test thing where people could be told what jobs would be best for them. I was sure everyone was brainwashed somehow because they were all walking so mindlessly. I was only interested in finding a way out. I took a turn and walking into a line for freak people that were going to do the test too. They had their own line. I decided I'd stick with the freaks for the time being. I was getting paranoid because my cell phone had no reception and thought it was being blocked somehow. I got on a large fire escape somehow and started going down to the bottom. There was some girl that didn't seem brainwashed and I guess we left together. I didn't know her at all but I suggested we do something fun. I noticed a giant indoor playground for children across the street and said we had to go there because it was awesome. While crossing the street I realized I was still wearing the high heels and knew I wouldn't be able to get in with them. My other shoes were in a locker somewhere from an earlier part of the dream. But then the dream ended.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not enough time to write more but I did have a dream where I had to fight thugs with a hammer. The hammer was really heavy but fortunately the thugs never really rushed me so I managed fine. I dislocated some guy's elbow but then I hit him again and knocked it back into place. That was annoying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-2278753008279269714?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/2278753008279269714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=2278753008279269714' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/2278753008279269714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/2278753008279269714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/12/high-heels.html' title='High Heels'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-4491960072296188780</id><published>2008-04-27T09:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-27T10:04:54.656-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I failed the challenge</title><content type='html'>I'll admit it. It's been a while since my last post. No catching up now. Finishing school for the year and starting work has changed around everything a lot. I've got to figure out what I'm doing again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I slept from 9pm to 9am. I wouldn't do it again. I thought sleep was usually awesome but now I wish I never had to sleep. I blame it on the hour-long nap from 8-9 that grogged me up and made me not want to do anything else anymore. It's ironic that my saturday night was the least eventful night by far this week. I'm feeling kind of existential this morning.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-4491960072296188780?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/4491960072296188780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=4491960072296188780' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/4491960072296188780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/4491960072296188780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-failed-challenge.html' title='I failed the challenge'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-4861644137370173485</id><published>2008-04-21T23:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T23:56:25.435-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Less is More</title><content type='html'>I'm also lazy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-4861644137370173485?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/4861644137370173485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=4861644137370173485' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/4861644137370173485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/4861644137370173485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/04/less-is-more.html' title='Less is More'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-4089264942018478864</id><published>2008-04-20T18:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T18:37:30.679-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Movie Ideas</title><content type='html'>Two ideas for movie projects that I want to do this summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first one is based on the movie 'bowfinger'. The premise of the movie is Steve Martin, an aspiring director, is trying to shoot a movie starring Eddie Murphy, the hottest action star of the time. He ends up shooting the movie without Eddie Murphy ever finding out that he was in the movie. It is really funny the kinds of things they have to do. What I want to do is have 2 teams that need to make a movie starring the other team. Neither team wants to be in the other team's movie so they don't know when they are being filmed. The teams need to be sneaky and capture the actors doing things on their own without any direction. The whole project would take place over a month, leaving lots of time to collect footage. Teams probably wouldn't bother to write a story until the footage was collected, but they may wish to set up events that their actors will be forced to interact with. It could be a tough challenge but I think the process would be very fun and the final products could be very interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other idea for a movie is called 'the remake'. Basically every week the same movie is made, from scratch and from memory. I'm not sure yet whether the remake would always be of the original or whether it would be of the previous week's remake. Either way it would be hilarious to watch everything together at the end. I once shot a terrible remake of a terrible movie we made and it was really funny to watch, even though both movies were bad. If this movie is any good I think the final product will be great.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-4089264942018478864?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/4089264942018478864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=4089264942018478864' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/4089264942018478864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/4089264942018478864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/04/two-movie-ideas.html' title='Two Movie Ideas'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-5461324670322424576</id><published>2008-04-19T19:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-19T19:25:49.759-07:00</updated><title type='text'>While I Was Sleeping</title><content type='html'>Last night I was really tired and had lots to drink. I went to bed and sent text messages to everyone that had just been over, just thanking them and stuff for coming. Then today I was talking to a friend and he said he had got my messages. I was confused because I was pretty sure I had only sent him one. We kind of dismissed it. Then he mentioned what I had written and it didn't sound familiar at all. I didn't believe it was from me. Then I checked my phone and it was saved in my 'sent messages' folder. It was bizarre. The only possible explanation is that I fell asleep and sent him the messages while I was sleeping. It is possibly the funniest thing I have ever done without realizing it. The first text read "Could have fallen asleep." The second message read "So tired. Sleep will be tund sweet" There are so many things about these messages that are hilarious. Firstly, talking about sleeping, while I am in fact asleep. I must have been so exhausted. Also, the messages use english and everything but don't make complete sense. Could have fallen asleep is very unclear as to what it is referring to. 'Tund' is a word that I have never heard of before, but I might start using it. It's odd that it just popped into a normal functional sentence and made it ridiculous. Those were the only two messages that I sent out sleeping, both to the same person, after sending multiple awake texts to many other people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole event is so funny for me. I don't normally do things in my sleep and texting seems like a more complex process. I wish I could write more while I am sleeping. It is interesting to see what kind of things the brain does when it's not being controlled by the consciousness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I missed two days of posts. I don't really care though. It felt more like one day really anyways.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-5461324670322424576?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/5461324670322424576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=5461324670322424576' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/5461324670322424576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/5461324670322424576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/04/while-i-was-sleeping.html' title='While I Was Sleeping'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-4047747744132858709</id><published>2008-04-16T19:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T01:04:54.505-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Horribly Arrogant or Very Amusing</title><content type='html'>I had a ridiculous idea the other day to put a picture of myself on every locker at school. Just a black and white headshot on an 8 1/2 by 11 sheet of paper. Then I thought maybe just slip them into each locker. I really like the idea because it is so stupid that no one would ever do it. And those are often things that I like to do. I'm a bit worried though that it would make me look too full of myself. Obviously I could avoid that by using a picture of someone else, but it would mean something different then, and I'd prefer it to be someone at the school. I can imagine people thinking I was a complete idiot for doing it, but I'm not too sure that I care. I would worry more about people that thought it was funny but thought that I was full of myself. I don't know if other people realize it much, but I am often very full of myself and it is a big fear of mine that I might start showing it too much. I think this project could be hilarious, especially in an art school, but I'm really going to have to give it serious thought and consult friends before trying anything. I'm almost thrilled by the idea of being that full of myself to leave everyone a picture of myself, but I'm also a bit repulsed by it. I do believe that to succeed it can be of great benefit to be full of oneself but I'm not sure exactly how this would help me succeed or what in. I want to be careful that I'd be doing it for the right reasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as I finish my low-fi acoustic album I want to do a high production rap album. It comes down to lyrics as my main issue. I was thinking of a bunch of really personally emasculating songs that would contrast the typical rap song completely. If I can come up with ten of these I think I'll be fine. Writing lyrics is so hard when I don't want people to think they're stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again, because I think I said it before, it is alarming how little control I have over my thoughts and feelings. They seem almost arbitrary when I step back, but they also make complete sense when I step forward. I wish I could rationally tell myself what to think. It would make life infinitely easier.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-4047747744132858709?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/4047747744132858709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=4047747744132858709' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/4047747744132858709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/4047747744132858709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/04/temp_16.html' title='Horribly Arrogant or Very Amusing'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-5739497816954388069</id><published>2008-04-15T22:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T00:32:22.038-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Identical Car Collision</title><content type='html'>This is a hilarious idea that my friend came up with that we were discussing more today. I thought I should write it down here because I don't think it was written down yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two identical cars have a head on collision. The drivers and passengers are all wearing identical jump suits. Two different ethnic groups make up th drivers and passengers. In each car there are two of each people from the ethnic ethnic groups. One car speaks all just one language and the other car speaks all just the other language. After the cars collide the ambulances show up and the chaos ensues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the event could be staged properly, using stunt professionals and everything it would be a really neat thing to do. No one would know that it had been staged because crashes like that usually aren't. It would just be this incredibly bizarre event that people would never forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I once saw two identical cars, fancy expensive yellow sports cars, traveling in opposite directions on the same street. I remember that really surprised and amused me. I can't imagine what I would have thought if they had crashed into each other too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel malnourished right now, I haven't been eating properly or regularly for a day. I'm going to try to get my body back on track tomorrow. I always feel much more appreciative of all the food in my fridge when I have been away from it for an extended period of time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had an amusing period of sleep last night where I remember laughing a lot in all my dreams but I'm not sure if there was anything to be laughed at. It was just pure solid fun times. I also kicked a wolf that was attacking me in another dream.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-5739497816954388069?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/5739497816954388069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=5739497816954388069' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/5739497816954388069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/5739497816954388069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/04/temp.html' title='Identical Car Collision'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-8145804281623898601</id><published>2008-04-14T23:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-15T03:46:42.635-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Usually Not</title><content type='html'>Here's something that can be kind of annoying. Sometimes someone will tell you that they have  found the funniest thing you have ever seen and they tell you you have to check it out online. So you do because you have nothing better to do. But the thing isn't actually that funny because you don't share that person's sense of humour and you end up wasting your time. I guess you have to check it because there may be a chance that it actually is the funniest thing ever. Usually it isn't though. There's so much junk on the internet and many people don't know what is worth sharing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slime volleyball is worth sharing. It is a fun game that two people can play on one computer. If you google search it you will find it right away. I recommend the game for two people. Very simple but very fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have come to believe that the suggested doses for energy drinks are generally a good guideline. I'm not sure what happens if you have more than that, but after two of them I feel a bit noxious. I have learned my lesson. I would rather drink too much alchohol because at least I would be able to tell that I had enough before I went too far.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-8145804281623898601?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/8145804281623898601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=8145804281623898601' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/8145804281623898601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/8145804281623898601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/04/temporary-post.html' title='Usually Not'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-2064509510965025949</id><published>2008-04-13T23:54:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-14T00:10:17.733-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Idle Thoughts</title><content type='html'>They are the worst. If there was one thing that I could change about myself it might be my idle thoughts. I just start questioning everything and I'm constantly second guessing myself. Without anything to keep my mind preoccupied I can slip into really unproductive thought processes. I guess meditation would be the best solution for silencing that kind of thing but that's just another thing to add to my continuously growing list of things that I should do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that naps are always even better than normal sleep? And why is it so easy to nap while sometimes it takes forever to fall asleep at night? My new favorite place to nap is in the sun outside. I think it's still to early in the year for the sun to be too dangerous but it still feels great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had an action-packed dream last night. I was with a group of people and we were in some large structure that was completely white and had openings all over the place into other chambers. It's kind of difficult to describe but it was a fun space. I think we were actually a tribe of people or something and we were trying to find shelter against potential invaders. We decided the place was our best bet in case of attack. We went out the front entrance and were on the beach. We saw a giant canoe or something moving really fast out on the ocean and then it started coming towards us and we knew it was an invading tribe. We retreated back into the structure and tried to figure out where to hide. There was one space that people thought would be good but I thought it was still too open and obvious. I ran out of time and ended up hiding there anyways. When the invaders came in I peeked out a window into the chamber below. Then I wished I hadn't because they saw me. They were trying to figure out how to get into my room and I thought I would have to surrender. Up to this point I guess I was worried about being killed by the invaders but then I saw them and they were just normal looking people and not aggressive at all. I became more confident and less worried. It was more like a game of cops and robbers now. I waited for two invaders to choose their entrance and then jumped out another opening to a different room. I proceeded to perform amazing flying diving roll cartwheel type moves around the place through small openings. I was thinking that it was strange because I hadn't been so agile just moments earlier but then I thought it was probably just the need to escape that was enabling me. The dream kind of broke down around that point, but it was a really fun and exciting dream while it lasted.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-2064509510965025949?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/2064509510965025949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=2064509510965025949' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/2064509510965025949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/2064509510965025949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/04/idle-thoughts.html' title='Idle Thoughts'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-6136460103735837379</id><published>2008-04-12T16:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-12T16:51:53.009-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Absolute Darkness is Fun</title><content type='html'>Today is a warm day. The warmest yet this year. I like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I should be writing down more ideas right now but I can't organize them into suitable posting material. Either there are too many of them or I'm just really tired and can't think properly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to have a pitch black party where at one point in the night everyone goes into a space with absolutely no light and hang out and talk. I find complete darkness to be really cool and unsettling at the same time. I am rarely in pitch black environments but every time that I am I always have a neat experience. Not being able to see your hand moving in front of your face really throws off your senses. It's like actually being blind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a funny strange dream last night. I was walking around downtown, and at some point this homeless naked guy started following me. Actually, he wasn't following me, he was just walking beside me everywhere I went. He wasn't creepy or anything, and he was probably in his late 20s or 30s. I guess I didn't have any objections to him going everywhere with me, but I didn't think he should be walking around completely naked. I told him that we had to get him some clothes before he could go anywhere else with me. We went to a place where the clothes were supposed to be really generic and cheap. It wasn't a thrift store, but it was kind of meant for homeless people, or so I thought. We went into the store and the guy went and got dressed in a set of pretty cool looking clothes. Then I was annoyed because his clothes looked better than mine. When we went to the guy at the till we were told that everything we had chosen would cost $170. The homeless guy couldn't afford it. I had been willing to buy the guy clothes, but this was way too expensive. I asked how much the underwear was alone, and it was only $3. I said I'd just buy the underwear and he'd have to find more clothes somewhere else. I could handle walking around with a guy just wearing underwear much more easily. That's all I remember.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-6136460103735837379?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/6136460103735837379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=6136460103735837379' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/6136460103735837379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/6136460103735837379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/04/today-is-warm-day.html' title='Absolute Darkness is Fun'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-1907258121421745045</id><published>2008-04-11T22:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-11T22:58:11.325-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Dreamed of Giant Octopuses</title><content type='html'>The closer I get to finishing school for the year the more excited I get. And I'm already really excited. One exam to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a dream I had last night. A bunch of friends and I are crammed into a car and we're driving along the ocean in North Vancouver. Then all of a sudden we notice out the window that there are giant octopuses swimming along the rocks. Someone says there are four of them, but we notice another one every second and I call out for every new one, "5, 6, 7, 8" and so on until it becomes pointless. We somehow circle around and try to get a better look, I think some roads must have suddenly appeared to make this possible. The octopuses are all migrating or something and there are a bunch of predators at their starting point, I remember two large walruses in particular eating some octopuses. I felt bad for them. Then somehow I am down on the water on some crude floating device and my friend is with me. It is actually a really cool place to view them from so we are excited. We start paddling along so we can keep up with the octopuses as they are swimming. We notice some of the octopuses are large and chunky and it is because they are eating something that is wrapped up underneath them. We suddenly realize that the octopuses could probably eat us if they wanted to and get nervous. One octopus bumps into us from behind and we freak out and start paddling hard. Then we go too far and suddenly hit the biggest octopus ever. This one is massive, I think it was a whole other kind of octopus. It grabs my leg I think and I decide that maybe if I don't struggle or move it won't think I am food. It pulls me under water and I just hold my breath. Then something happens and I can breath and talk under the water, which is really cool. Then the octopus lets me go and explains, (telepathically?), that there is a deal between humans and octopuses that some divers made one time that octopuses will never eat humans. I'm pretty relieved about it. I can't remember exactly what happened after that. Seeing all of those octopuses was an amazing sight, even though it would never look like that in real life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-1907258121421745045?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/1907258121421745045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=1907258121421745045' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/1907258121421745045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/1907258121421745045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/04/closer-i-get-to-finishing-school-for.html' title='I Dreamed of Giant Octopuses'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-5839493964822717613</id><published>2008-04-10T23:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-11T00:05:09.682-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Who Would It Be?</title><content type='html'>I asked a few people today this question. If you were doomed to be pushed off a cliff but you could choose who pushed you, who would you choose? The answers seemed to vary quite a bit. Personally I think I might want someone that was despicable anyways, which someone else agreed with. Another choice was being pushed by someone very honorable, to make the whole event special. The other choice that was suggested,  which I had considered,  was being pushed by someone really awesome. I really don't know what the best choice is. I'm sure they all have their virtues. Thank goodness I don't have to make these kind of choices in real life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was and still am completely burned out today. I am exhausted. I cannot wait to sleep now. I am so tired that I don't even care that I don't have any running water still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was disappointed again today by video art. I am starting to  solidly believe that the term 'video art' is just an excuse to make bad movies. I think it has potential, but the majority of stuff made is just awful. I don't think movies should all try to emulate hollywood by any means, but I think they should still be good, whatever that means.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you know the game 'guess who'? I really want to make my own version of the game using all people that I know. I think it could be really fun, especially since the questions could go deeper than appearances. It wouldn't be that hard to make. I don't have any good excuses not to make it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to get sleep and I can't think straight anymore so I'm just going to close by passing along these cool new things to say. The first one is 'bottom line'. When something is really good it is 'bottom line'. All the cool people are going to start saying it. The other cool thing to say might be 'swift'. It is essentially the same as 'bottom line' but works better in some instances and less well in others. Use your discretion with 'swift'.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-5839493964822717613?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/5839493964822717613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=5839493964822717613' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/5839493964822717613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/5839493964822717613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/04/who-would-it-be.html' title='Who Would It Be?'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-5831014799533237389</id><published>2008-04-09T20:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-09T21:15:05.102-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Probably Nothing</title><content type='html'>Have you ever picked up your drink to notice some unidentifiable particle floating on the surface? And then you consider fishing it out, but you think that maybe if you drink carefully you will be able to isolate it until the last sip and maybe run it up onto the side of your cup? Then you keep drinking and keep a cautious eye on it floating there? Then you let your guard down because the thing isn't moving and as soon as you do you look again after a sip and it's gone? And you know you probably just drank it? And you hope it was nothing? I know I have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been musically productive these past three days. I have recorded three new songs in that time. Rather than using my nice studio though I decided to record them into garage band using the computer's on board mic. They're all just single live tracks of accoustic guitar and singing. I've only showed one person so far, but I hear they are good, which is encouraging. If I can write and record a song in only an hour then there should be no stopping me from cutting and album really soon. I hope to have something in the next month. The songs are pretty low-fi but I like the sound. They're all just simple fun songs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In terrible news, my water is not working again. I would trade the time of having no water for having no electricity without hesitation. Water is so great. Better than computers, watching movies, listening to music, you name it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a bout of hunger today that I could not end. I ate lots, or so I thought. The tapeworm theory gains a bit of credibility today. I almost want to eat too much so that I have no doubt as to whether I am still hungry, because right now I'm not sure. I'm on the edge of something, could be hunger, could be fullness. Only time will tell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also dreamed about doing no-legged push-ups which I guess is kind of strange. I don't normally do exercise in dreams, especially exercises I can't actually do, but I think it was probably closer to acrobatics which is something I commonly do in dreams. It really makes me want to get into much better shape. I was trying to figure out how to force myself to exercise more. I thought I'd probably be willing to pay someone like a personal trainer to force me to exercise. Then I thought that people would probably want a lot of money to have to do that. Then I realized that if someone asked me to wake them up at 5am every morning and force them to exercise and they would pay me to do it I would be all over that. Seems like it would be fun. I now notice this paragraph has jumped several tangents too far so I'm going to call it a post.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-5831014799533237389?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/5831014799533237389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=5831014799533237389' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/5831014799533237389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/5831014799533237389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/04/have-you-ever-picked-up-your-drink-to.html' title='It&apos;s Probably Nothing'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-9052102699381800108</id><published>2008-04-08T16:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-08T16:56:48.147-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Little Alarm Never Hurt Anybody</title><content type='html'>I knew that I had to get out of the house for a while today so that it wasn't another completely uneventful day. I had an excuse too because I had to go to the bank. I decided to go about an hour before the bank closed. The weather, which had been miserable earlier, had cleared up very nicely. My luck with the weather is usually good like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get to the bank and get in line. I'm only one person from the front of the line and suddenly a firebell goes off. I've only really had firebells go off in schools, rarely anywhere else. I was wondering what the proper procedure was for a bank. There were a lot of people just standing around probably wondering the same thing. I guess the people at the tills finished up and then all the bank employees put on their jackets so I walked out. It was really funny how disorganized the whole thing was. I would have expected someone to calmly tell people they had to leave but it didn't happen. I would have happily kept banking. It just looked kind of like all the employees had decided to go on break at the same time, and there just happened to be an alarm going off in the background. I've never actually been in a bank when an alarm has gone off so that was kind of exciting too. It probably would have been a different sound though if there was a robbery. Anything out of the ordinary in a bank is exciting though. They just seem like such orderly boring places.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided to wait just outside because I didn't think it would take too long for them to come back. I also got to watch everyone's reaction to the event and the ensuing disorderly conduct. The funniest part was watching the bank manager trying to lock the door after everyone was out. For some reason she could not lock it, not even with help from other employees. They had pulled the gate shut inside, so the majority of the bank was closed off but I guess they wanted to lock the front door too because if there was a fire they would be liable. They just gave up on trying to lock the door and then left. I thought it was kind of irresponsible but I didn't care so it was mostly hilarious. Especially when some guy just walked up to the door a minute later and went in to use the instabank machine. The alarm was still going off and nobody else was in the bank but it didn't seem to bother him at all. I assume he took care of his business in there and then he came out again. A few minutes later another guy actually went in too. Alarm still going strong. I don't know which was funnier, those two guys or the bank manager not locking the door. It really made me think about how no matter how professional someone may act or appear in a certain situation, there will always situations in which they will have no idea what to do. That's when someone's character is put to the test.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fire truck came and turned off the alarm and the bank people came back shortly after that so I was able to take care of my banking. I left thinking slightly less of the bank, (not that I'm a fan of the bank by any means in the first place).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During this time the weather had started up again the rain was back. It started pouring while I was crossing a field but it was such great rain. I was not dressed for the weather at all, but something about it was really peaceful and calming. It was a really soft rain, there was lots of it, but it was fine droplets. I was soaked by the time I got back home but I'm almost dry now. My ipod surprised me once again with the perfect soundtrack for the rainy walk home. Really mellow songs from Blonde Redhead, then Sonic Youth, then Interpol and finishing with Stars. I could not have planned it better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a new theory about rain. Rain is only miserable when you wear lots of clothes and try to stay dry. In the winter it is necessary to wear lots because it is cold outside, but in the summer the rain is great. It's logical. Showers are the best, and summer rain is basically a natural shower. I need to make a note to go out more wearing just a bathing suit when it rains in the summer. I don't think I've done it before but it seems like it would be a good time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a dodgeball dream last night where I was playing really well. My team was down most of our players and the other side still had 4 people. I picked off the guys one by one getting awesome foot hits. Then their last girl player was crouched down at back wall. I was really worried that she would catch one of my throws but after several throws I got her in the foot and the ball bounced right back to me. It was over. I was pretty happy about my playing. I wish I could play that well in real life. To be fair though I think the players on the other team weren't playing much offense.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-9052102699381800108?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/9052102699381800108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=9052102699381800108' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/9052102699381800108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/9052102699381800108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/04/little-alarm-never-hurt-anybody.html' title='A Little Alarm Never Hurt Anybody'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-7006931600377800311</id><published>2008-04-07T23:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-08T00:12:22.241-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dealing With Losing</title><content type='html'>I would say that I often lose more than I win. I'm not a loser, but I'm also not at the top of anything. It's actually kind of a nice place to be. I usually find that if I am the best at something, (usually only video games) and someone comes and seriously challenges me I can get really frustrated. If I'm only mediocre at something I can lose and usually still feel good about it. For that reason I am very glad that I don't excel at too many competitive things. Two examples from today. I was playing video games with my brother and was losing most of the time. I was getting kind of angry, though nothing serious. It was just while playing the game that I would get incredibly frustrated. It was surprising how quickly I would not care again once the game was over but how soon that same frustration would be rekindled immediately into the next game. Tonight playing dodgeball was not as bad because I know I am bad at the game. I would put on my game face while playing but as soon as I got hit I couldn't help but smile and laugh. Even when I got smoked in the neck 2 seconds into one game. I didn't have high expectations for myself and so I never got too upset about losing. I guess it's bad to have low expectations but on the other hand it makes life so much more pleasant. I think the trick is definitely finding a balance. I'm not sure exactly what I'm trying to say. I would say that overall I am a bad loser but my reaction is always mild and I end up not caring fairly soon after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've decided I should probably start a list of things for myself. If I'm going to get stuff done it is a good way to keep track of it. Maybe I'll start the list tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I noticed today that another one of my videos was taken from archive.org and uploaded to youtube. I guess it's totally fair because I licenced them to be free to use with crediting me, which was done. It's just kind of annoying that someone else takes a video I made and posts it up and gets credit for the movie, even with my name attached to it. The movie had more hits than most of my youtube stuff combined. I should try to capitalize on that popularity but I'm not sure how to yet. I don't want to be an ass and complain about people taking my stuff because that's not the issue but there has to be a way that I can get more attention for myself. Having an audience is never a bad thing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-7006931600377800311?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/7006931600377800311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=7006931600377800311' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/7006931600377800311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/7006931600377800311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/04/dealing-with-losing.html' title='Dealing With Losing'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-3524277276479694309</id><published>2008-04-06T22:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T23:13:02.673-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Days Like This</title><content type='html'>They make it difficult to write things everyday. If I'm writing down as much as I can think of each day at the time of writing it doesn't leave much carry over to the next day. This means that I usually need some kind of new provocation for ideas before I find something to write. When nothing really happens during the day there is very little material to work with for writing. I'm not saying that I don't have any more things to say, I'm saying that when I sit down for these 5-15 minutes to write I don't always have prepared what I want to say. The worst part is probably knowing that I have a bunch of things that I want to write down but just can't remember them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I don't need to worry about it too much because no one checks here regularly so I can have days without anything too interesting and no one will be terribly disappointed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been sitting here a while now trying to think of something and I've got nothing. Today wasn't a bad day, but it was relatively uneventful and I'm afraid I didn't leave the house. I wish I had now. I'm just going to call it a post and apologize for the sorry excuse.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-3524277276479694309?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/3524277276479694309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=3524277276479694309' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/3524277276479694309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/3524277276479694309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/04/days-like-this.html' title='Days Like This'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-5711813170517788176</id><published>2008-04-05T23:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-05T23:57:55.409-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Changing My Viewing Experience</title><content type='html'>I watched star wars: a new hope tonight, and I have to say I did not enjoy it as much as I normally do. I think my main problem with it was that everything was pretty under control and almost all the dialogue and events were feeding directly into the story. I kept looking out for pointless or unplanned moments but there were hardly any. The movie was just so straight forward. My favorite new line in the movie is when one stormtrooper is talking to another one while Obi Wan is walking by. Their discussion goes something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You seen that new VT-16?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah. Some of the other guys were telling me about it. They say it's quite a thing to see."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought it was a really funny line because it seemed so unmotivated by the story. I also liked that it wasn't a funny line but simply by existing through its randomness it was funny. Of the past few movies that I have watched, my favorite parts have all been similar moments. Just small interactions between characters that seem genuine but unnecessary to the plot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a couple ideas for some short videos. They are actually more like production techniques that could be used for more than one project.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first one was shooting several friends, (or strangers if possible), and focusing on their actions and facial expressions. Then during editing all the audio would be re-recorded, including all the dialogue using brand new lines that may have not been used at all in the original. Sound effects could also be added to change the original feel of the moment. I think it would be fun to transform a casual conversation into something really serious or vice versa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other idea was basically the opposite. Record a conversation between some people. Then shoot new footage to add to the sound. The actors would have to learn the lines and remember the pacing but it would maintain the spontenaity of the original conversation. The scene could also be staged very effectively to enhance the original sound recording. In my opinion, the funniest things said aren't always meant to be funny. I think scripts often don't leave room for the way people talk normally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I re-enacted the 'bet you can't laugh without smiling' video today with a friend that hadn't seen or heard of it. He actually played the part of the second guy really well, only he completely lost it when I started laughing without smiling. There were actually four of us in a car at the time and we were all laughing super hard. For me, the whole thing was at least as funny as the original video. I want to talk to more friends now that haven't seen the video yet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-5711813170517788176?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/5711813170517788176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=5711813170517788176' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/5711813170517788176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/5711813170517788176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/04/changing-my-viewing-experience.html' title='Changing My Viewing Experience'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-4154856161495955286</id><published>2008-04-04T23:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-05T00:11:22.830-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Overwhelmed by the Beauty of Life</title><content type='html'>It happened to me today. I have been having such a great week and have been laughing all the time. Today I went out to wait for the bus. I was standing under a tree because it was raining. Then I coughed and the guy sitting under the bus shelter looked out at me. He told me to come and sit down. I didn't want to be anti-social so I went and sat next to him. He started talking to me and forever changed my life. He really liked to talk so I mostly just listened. His conversation ranged from topics on encounters with famous people to food to human behavior. Some of the things he said struck me as really meaningful things. He really felt strongly about the importance of human interaction and caring for each other. Twice during his talking I started to tear up slightly but managed to hold back because really didn't want to cry in front of him. Then he got off the bus and I lost it. I cried on the skytrain and on the next bus. I could not stop. I tried really hard. I was in a state of carefree bliss. I actually tried to think of depressing things so that I didn't feel so happy because it was being so happy that was making me cry I think. It didn't work because everything I could think of seemed so beautiful still. The music on my ipod was also not helping because it was so great. It was a crazy experience that I have never had before. I eventually got over it, but I think its effects could be long lasting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-4154856161495955286?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/4154856161495955286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=4154856161495955286' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/4154856161495955286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/4154856161495955286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/04/overwhelmed-by-beauty-of-life.html' title='Overwhelmed by the Beauty of Life'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-60925780941500358</id><published>2008-04-03T22:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-03T23:06:19.226-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Slowly Figuring It Out</title><content type='html'>I think making my latest video has changed the way I am thinking about making movies. I also think that I'm getting more from watching other films as a result. I'm getting really excited about the whole thing. I've been talking to people about my ideas and I think I should write down what I have. Here is a list of things that I now think about making videos:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Stories are not important. Things should probably happen, but I definitely don't think it is necessary to have a specific end point for a movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Events do not need to make any sense. Events in real life do not make any sense, so I think it's only fair that a video is allowed to reflect this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Continuity is a convention that should be broken. Why not? Using cuts is a great reason to change anything in a scene at every available opportunity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Identifying the fact that everything is staged and jumping in and out of different planes of fiction is fun. A movie shouldn't need to be confined by any particular idea of reality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Sound has no obligation whatsoever to follow the image. Recording all the audio separately and after shooting allows for many more options assembling a soundtrack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think these ideas should apply to every movie, and I am glad that they don't. These are merely ideas that I am very interested in following with my own work. I could change my mind later, but right now I think this is what I want I do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-60925780941500358?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/60925780941500358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=60925780941500358' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/60925780941500358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/60925780941500358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/04/slowly-figuring-it-out.html' title='Slowly Figuring It Out'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-5317689318627942942</id><published>2008-04-02T14:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T15:28:50.165-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Ideal People</title><content type='html'>The ideal people in my opinion are those that do everything in their power to make everyone around them happy. It isn't an easy thing to do, and also seems daunting because strangers can be so difficult to please. My bus driver this morning was certainly trying his best to be an ideal person. It was about 8:30 and I got on the granville bus at howe and dunsmuir. I notice getting on that there are a bunch of chocolate bars hanging over the ticket dispenser. I'm wondering why they are there, and whether they are for anyone because it would be a bad place for the driver to store his private stash. The bus leaves the stop and shortly after a thick eastern European accent can be heard over the intercom. The driver introduces himself and states that he wants to put a smile on everyone's face before they head in to work or wherever it is that people are headed. It's like a gameshow. He says that at that time, on that bus every weekday it is trivia time. He says that the winner of each question will be able to come up and take a chocolate bar. I can't help grinning non-stop, especially watching a few other people on the bus unable to contain their enjoyment of the whole scene. He pops the first question, "When was the washing machine invented?" I think the answer turned out to be 1915 but unfortunately I had to get off the bus because it was my stop so I never really found out. But the good had been done. I left that bus feeling great. If everyone was such a fun-loving human being like this bus driver imagine how much more incredible life would be! I think more importance should be placed on being super sweet like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw a baby wearing sun goggles. I don't think I've ever seen that before, either a baby wearing shades or sun goggles. I think it's a good idea. Babies eyes need to be protected from the sun but they can't wear sunglasses because their faces are so small and they are likely to fall off. Sun goggles cover every opening to the eye and also wrap around the back of the head to ensure they stay on. My only concern would be if it was too tight it could be bad for the baby's soft head, but the baby looked pretty rad. Now that I think about it the baby looked kind of like a baby Vin Diesel in Pitch Black.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't had any memorable dreams the past few days but I had a bunch last night. Some I have more details for than others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think my dad drives me and my brother and maybe a few other people out to some remote location in the interior. He sends us out and leaves. It's kind of like camping only we don't have anything and we are supposed to make our way home over the next few days. Somehow it is a really enjoyable experience and we are having a great time in some swamp. I think the dream was inspired by the movie 'Into the Wild' which I saw recently. I guess we got back home again and then I was telling my friends about what we did and I'm trying to plan another trip for the following weekend because it was so much fun. I don't know what we did for food but I recall that everything was problem free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another dream, Will Smith is my gym teacher. I'm not sure if he was my actual gym teacher or if we were in a movie and he was playing my gym teacher. He was a really inspiring, playing a never-give-up character.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This next dream was pretty bizarre. I am standing around on the street in the city and suddenly I see a huge space shuttle type thing fly over head and disappear in the distance. I remember that it is the second or third year anniversary for some kind of shuttle crash that happened right there. I'm not sure why I saw something if it was an anniversary but I did. In fact I saw it at least once more. I texted a friend and asked him if he had seen it too because it was great and it was done every year or something. I think I was also asking him if he wanted to celebrate the anniversary or something. Shortly after that I decide that it is actually supposed to be a plane, not a shuttle that flies overhead and so a plane flies spiraling overhead. Then it becomes like a video that I am editing and I am moving the time line forward and backward observing how cool the plane looks when it is spinning so low to the ground totally out of control. I also notice smaller details like a car that gets thrown by shock wave off of the road. I don't really know what was going on but the images were amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a bike and I need to bike home but the tire is flat. There are several other people around with bikes so I figure they must have a pump or something. There is a girl with a french name and though she speaks english I think it is imperative that I address her in french. I say, "As-tu l'air?". I am really hesitant on the air part because I can't for the life of me remember what air is in french. It is really embarrassing for me. She doesn't care about that but she gives me a pump for the bike. I try to hook up the pump to the tire but it just keeps leaking out the side. I need help. Then Heather Graham, (who had been in the brief bit of Arrested Development that I saw the day before), is my assistant or something. Also the bike is now a couch but the legs still need inflating. With the help of the girl with the french name and Heather Graham we re-inflate these legs and fix it up. I don't know why I needed to fix the couch because it was no longer useful for getting home with but that is where the dream ended I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strange dreams with random cameos by Will Smith and Heather Graham. Looking back, what a hilarious series of events.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-5317689318627942942?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/5317689318627942942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=5317689318627942942' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/5317689318627942942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/5317689318627942942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/04/ideal-people.html' title='The Ideal People'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-8430874252509599283</id><published>2008-04-01T10:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-01T10:17:02.366-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Down To It</title><content type='html'>Today is a very disappointing day. I could be playing awesome pranks on all of my friends, but instead I have a science project to do. I've been putting it off for way too long and this is my last day so I don't really have any options. Handing it in late would only be giving in to my procrastination. My day is decided. Better luck next year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I realize that anything I write here may not be taken seriously today so I'm just going to end it now. If I feel like it I may come back and add more later, but I doubt that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-8430874252509599283?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/8430874252509599283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=8430874252509599283' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/8430874252509599283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/8430874252509599283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/04/down-to-it.html' title='Down To It'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-2549185142913389991</id><published>2008-03-31T23:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-31T23:35:54.883-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Sure It's Happened Before</title><content type='html'>I was riding the skytrain to school this afternoon. I was really tired, as usual. I think I was in some kind of zone of thought where the rest of the world took on a second reality, it was there, but only by coincidence perhaps. I'm just trying to explain how out of it I was when the train started leaving the station before my stop. As soon as the doors close I absentmindedly reach up for the cord thing that I would normally pull for my stop on a bus. This is not a bus though so my hand finds nothing. My hand somehow keeps searching and finds something to push, which happens to be the emergency silent alarm strip. I think it was almost immediately after pushing it that I came back to full consciousness. My hand was still raised when I realized that I had pushed the silent alarm and I kind of freaked out. I was looking around the train at everyone else to see if anyone had seen me push it. Sure enough there were a few people who were kind of watching my raised hand with a kind of curious disapproval. When they noticed me looking at them they quickly looked away, they must have been afraid that I was looking for trouble or something. I didn't know what to do. It had been such a distant action that I wasn't even sure anymore if I had pushed the strip anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The train pulled into the next station and much to my annoyance there were some transit people waiting outside the doors, I don't know if they knew exactly which car had triggered the alarm or if it was a coincidence but they were right there. I was ready to get off the train as soon as the doors opened but they kind of stopped me with raised hands like they wanted me to wait for a second. They looked into the train and I looked with them. There was some guy sitting behind where I had been sitting and he was just pointing at me, not saying anything. I don't know what his deal was, I think he must have just been a complete tool idiot jerkwad because I have never seen anyone act like that. The transit people took the hint and asked me if I had pushed the silent alarm. I had to explain that I had just been so out of it that I had pushed it by accident, thinking I was on a bus. They didn't look convinced but they gave me a warning that I could be fined for pushing the alarm without reason and then they told me to go. I was pretty embarrassed. I was mostly still burned by that guy pointing me out. I cannot believe that someone would do that. It didn't get him anything and it just put me through an uncomfortable dialogue. Some people just don't know when to ignore stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to a 7-11 after that to get my new bus pass. In front of me in the line was a really old looking dude who was buying a jumbo slurpy. I thought it was really funny to see. He was your typical old man, but here he was sipping on this huge cup of frozen sugary syrup. I didn't even know old people could handle that kind of thing, let alone enjoy it. The look on his face when he sipped it was priceless too. I would describe it as serious contemplation combined with joyful nostalgia.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-2549185142913389991?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/2549185142913389991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=2549185142913389991' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/2549185142913389991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/2549185142913389991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/03/im-sure-its-happened-before.html' title='I&apos;m Sure It&apos;s Happened Before'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-7619760393419700834</id><published>2008-03-30T23:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-31T00:35:43.527-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Laughed, and then I Laughed But Didn't Smile</title><content type='html'>My brother told me I had to see this video today. He always says that kind of thing to me, but today it was actually true. He found it because it was featured on the main page. I think I can say it is the best youtube video I have seen in a long time, it is extremely funny. You can watch it &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0xLRQohZtuo"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. Everything about it is hilarious. You have to watch it. I won't say anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also saw a video on youtube today of a giant octopus fighting a shark. I won't say who the winner was but I will say it was surprising to watch. If you're curious you can check it out &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p9A-oxUMAy8"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. Animal fights can be exciting and educational.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shot a video project today. It was really funny. I realized quickly into the shoot that it would have been awesome to have an extra person shooting the making-of. A lot of the behind the scenes happenings were even better than the movie we were making. We decided that we would have to write more simple shorts and then shoot making-ofs while making all of them. I think it would be hilarious to see that kind of work when it is done by a group of friends that aren't too organized or concerned about wasting time. A comedy short shoot is just a fun place to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I have to do something the next day and it involves being ready by a certain time in the first half of the day I usually don't sleep so well. I usually dream about needing to wake up to be ready and then everything usually doesn't work out anyways, either I completely missed what I needed to do or I'm not organized enough to do it when the time comes. I think I suffered from a bit of that last night but I know I also had some fun dreams too. I'm pretty sure I did a bit of freestyle walking. I would say the best thing about being a freestyle walker is being able to dream in freestyle walking. I haven't done any real freestyle walking in a very long time because it isn't fun alone and I'm also out of shape and I don't want to hurt myself doing anything extreme. I still have enough of the mindset though to dream about it. Physics can be ignored and I can jump around and slide and defy gravity in the most fun ways possible. If I were to recommend freestyle walking to someone the main reason would be to open up freestyle walk dreaming. I don't know if dreams get any better than that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-7619760393419700834?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/7619760393419700834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=7619760393419700834' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/7619760393419700834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/7619760393419700834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-laughed-and-then-i-laughed-but-didnt.html' title='I Laughed, and then I Laughed But Didn&apos;t Smile'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-3787629595346952944</id><published>2008-03-29T21:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-29T22:25:44.362-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Solo Silent Darkness Dance Party</title><content type='html'>So today I think everyone was supposed to turn off all their electricity from 8 to 9. I didn't think it was too important to do, but I didn't want to be the asshole that didn't do it, so I went along with it. No one else was home so I wasn't quite sure what I was going to do with no electricity. I decided that I should load up my ipod with a bunch of awesome dance tracks and just dance for an hour with no lights on. It was great. I was so pumped when it started up with 'We Are Scientists', I almost slipped several times on the wood floor in my socks. I danced all over the house, dancing like crazy. No one could see me so I could do the most wild ridiculous moves without feeling too stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My cat was there and she wanted to go out a few times but when I opened the door she didn't want to go out anymore, I guess because it was wet. The second time this happened I was walking by her and she suddenly batted at my leg and hissed at me. It kind of freaked me out, but I was also listening to Chuck D and Anthrax playing 'Bring the Noise' at the time, so I actually snapped at my cat with the loudest "Hey!" I could make. I think the music must have influenced my reaction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Considering I was listening on headphones the whole time and dancing like crazy, it was a small wonder that I didn't yank the cord off by accident more than once. It happened during 'Romantic Rights', if it was going to happen for any song it would be that one. By the time 9 o'clock rolled around I was thinking about stopping. I loaded more than an hour onto my ipod but the songs had been slowing down a bit. After all, the power off hour thing was over. Then just after 9 the next song started and it was 'Little Sister' by Queens of the Stone Age. I had to keep going. The music stayed good so I just kept going. I knew there wasn't too much more so I thought I'd wait until everything had played.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't quite recall if I had put on an Oneida song because I figured that if I had I would probably stop if it came on. My reason being: the song only has one part that basically repeats every two seconds for a total length of 14:13. I'm not sure why I included it in the playlist. Anyways, this song 'Sheets Of Easter' starts playing and almost immediately I feel reinvigorated to dance the whole 14 minutes of it. It was so intense. You have to listen to the song. I've listened to it in its entirety twice now. You need to be in the mood but it is great. I had to take a phone call in the middle of the song so I kept listening with one ear and dancing while talking. I had to explain to a friend that I had been dancing alone in the dark for the past hour and a half when he asked me what I was doing. He didn't get it. The song was so long, I had no idea where it was in the time line either. It finally finished and the last song, which I knew was still left played. It was the Sammy Danger Remix of 'Black History Month' by Death from Above. It was a good final song. I guess it finished around 9:40. I think I could do that every night. I had a nap earlier but I don't think I'll have trouble falling asleep after dancing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What did other people do for their hour of no electricity?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also went running with my brother this morning. I pushed myself until I felt like I might be sick and then I had to stop and walk. The worst part was the back of my throat tasted like blood because of all the cold air I had breathed in. I had tried to breath in through my nose but after a while it wasn't good enough and I needed my mouth. Comparing the running with dancing, I would say that dancing is much better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-3787629595346952944?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/3787629595346952944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=3787629595346952944' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/3787629595346952944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/3787629595346952944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/03/solo-silent-darkness-dance-party.html' title='Solo Silent Darkness Dance Party'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-1918794593095692433</id><published>2008-03-29T00:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-29T01:23:35.478-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Terrible Transit Reading Material</title><content type='html'>First off, this is friday's post. I'm going to say right now that 6 am is going to be my official new day time. After midnight is not the next day as far as I'm concerned. It's six hours after that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another transit story today, not a great one though. I thought it was funny though. I know it's not nice to make fun of fat people but I'm just going to make some observations. There was a really fat guy in the back of the bus today. I looked at him a few times and noticed that he was quite large. When I looked at him again about a minute later he was leafing through a collection of coupons for mcdonald's. I could just imagine him thinking about whether he wanted to get two big macs or a two can dine meal deal. He may have also been cursing the fact that breakfast was only offered until 11am. Most people read books or newspapers on the bus, this guy reads coupons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think reading newspapers is much better though. I have something more than a strong dislike for the 24 and metro papers. I think they are just about the most mind-numbing words that anyone could feed to their eyes and mind. I'm biased against the news as it is, but if I do care to read up on current events I usually check out the bbc, they seem to have it together, and also have the atlantic ocean between them and the US. I can still remember when there was no such thing as the 24 or metro. It seems strange how easily it has been accepted. I don't know what their agenda is, but I don't trust whoever is producing those waste-of-tree publications.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only a few more weeks of school left. I really need to get serious about my stuff, I've been putting it off way too much. As it is, I think some of my grades are going to suffer. I do hereby state that at no time before April 18th will I play any video games without the company of another person playing the game with me. I figure that if I write it down here it's harder to ignore. I think I can stick to that. I'm sure I'll have other distractions as it is anyways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two dreams from what I think was a very busy night of dreaming. There were tons of details so I'm going to try to only include things that make sense or are funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first dream, I'm in prison with a couple friends. I don't think I know why, but it may very well be political because it is in the states. My friends and I have to do labour as part of our prison term, and we all have specialized jobs. I realize that the three of us, with the tools of our jobs, are perfectly equipped to break out of jail. I know one of us had wire cutters or something and I became surprised that the prison would be stupid enough to give us such tools. We plan an escape from the prison and make a run for it. The prison was right on the US/Canada border and we want to get back to Canada. The border looks more like the US/Mexico border though and there is a big river between the countries. My friends and I jump into the river and begin swimming as fast as we can. We know we only have so much time before they notice we are missing. The river is filled with a strong bleach-like chemical and we are all burned by it but keep going. I switch into a fierce backstroke so I can keep my face out of the water. We get across the river fairly quickly because our swimming is unrealistically fast. On the other side is another prison, a Canadian one I guess. We can't go around the prison for some reason so we have to go through. We scale the wall and sneak in. We don't want to be seen because we know the guards will not recognize us. We're also worried about being seen by other prisoners because they might rat us out. Nothing really happened after that, I don't think we ever got out of the prison in the dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my second dream I had to shoot a video for a class. I don't think I was really aware of what was going on a lot of the time. I think I had been planning to shoot the video on my own time but the instructor had given me time in class to do it and I wasn't sure what to do. I was all over the place trying to plan things and I had never organized anything because that wasn't my style. My instructor, whom was not from real life, started getting really mad about my lack of preparation. She wanted me to come back to the class because I was somewhere else just doing what I wanted to. I said I didn't need to plan anything really and would not go back to the class because she had given me time to work, even though I was not working. She got really mad and grabbed me by the elbow or something. I then got super angry that an instructor would use physical force when I refused to cooperate. She was old but had a mean grip on my arm and was kind of twisting it. I yelled at her that she had no right to touch me at all in any circumstance. She retaliated by explaining that it had once been her job to touch people. Somehow I knew what she meant, and she meant that she had worked in the movie business and she had been really good at calming actors by simply touching them. She dragged me back to the class and I was still furious, saying she would not get away with her forceful ways. She reminded me again that it had been her job to touch people. I had had enough so I yelled fully in her face that she sucked at touching people, a harsh comment, and then I took off again, breaking free of her grip. That dream went on for a while but I thought that was the most interesting part because of the super intense confrontation. That's the second dream now where I have had a major disagreement with an instructor. It must mean something. My guess at a meaning would probably be that I don't agree with my instructors.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-1918794593095692433?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/1918794593095692433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=1918794593095692433' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/1918794593095692433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/1918794593095692433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/03/terrible-transit-reading-material.html' title='Terrible Transit Reading Material'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-7350386196827196428</id><published>2008-03-27T22:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T22:30:16.780-07:00</updated><title type='text'>10 Times More Exciting (At Least)</title><content type='html'>Some friends and I developed a new way of greeting your friends that makes the whole affair at least 10 times more exciting. With one friend we somehow started hiding whenever we saw each other. We would then try to sneak up on each other for no real reason, even though we both saw each other already. That's been happening for a month or two, but today it was taken to the next logical step up. I was walking towards two friends and waved to them. Then when I got close to a short wall I ducked down and disappeared behind it. I wasn't sure what they were doing but I could hear them whispering. I peeked around the corner after a brief wait and had to duck back again when I saw my friend pointing his imaginary gun at me. I prepared myself and whipped back around the corner letting of my own imaginary shot and it got him. I crouched up over the wall to see where my other friend was at and he tossed a grenade my way. Since the grenade was imaginary I couldn't find it and it exploded before I could scramble away. It was awesome. We decided that it should happen more often. Now, whenever we see a friend that we know is playing the game we need to either be quick on the draw or find good cover fast. There aren't really any rules, just point your fingers and make some kind of imaginary gun sound and hope the other person admits that they had no chance against your quick reflexes. I'm a little worried that maybe I'm just being a stupid guy and that the game is pointless and also violent. I don't think I've discussed it with any females yet, I'm sure they wouldn't approve. I guess I do know that it is a stupid, violent, guy thing to do, but the truth is it is fun enough to outweigh those cons. Maybe it will get old fast, but until then I will have a great time every time I run into a friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leaving my backpack in the trunk of my friend's car has turned out to a great break. I hate carrying around more than I need to, and wearing a backpack makes me feel restricted, (I'm not sure exactly how), yet I wear a backpack everyday without thinking about it. This week I have not had a backpack and it made me realize that I don't actually need it. I regret that my ipod is in my backpack right now, but other than that it has been sweet liberation. I think I will most likely continue using it less once I get it back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was sitting next to a really loud breather today in a lecture. It was very distracting. Worse than that I was a bit worried that my friends sitting with me might think that I was making all the noise. I usually try to breath quietly and I actually do have to try because my nose is just noisy. This woman was super loud though. It also sounded really forced. I'm glad I didn't think it was funny at the time because I could have started laughing which would have been bad sitting in the front row right in front of the speaker. If you don't already, consider your breathing volume the next time you are sitting around. If it's really loud figure out why it is and maybe find a way to reduce the effect. That's my advice for today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was yanked out of my dreams this morning by my alarm and lost all memory of the night. It was really difficult to get up. I think I am genuinely exhausted. I would consider getting more sleep if I wasn't having so much fun being awake.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-7350386196827196428?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/7350386196827196428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=7350386196827196428' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/7350386196827196428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/7350386196827196428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/03/10-times-more-exciting-at-least.html' title='10 Times More Exciting (At Least)'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-5433130538936050818</id><published>2008-03-26T23:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T00:53:08.700-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Time Stamps Mean Nothing</title><content type='html'>I noticed recently that all my posts are time-stamped with the time that I opened the 'new post' window. This means that I can keep a window open from any particular time and submit that post whenever I feel like it. I've been doing that for the past few posts because I haven't gotten around to writing them until after midnight, and it is always annoying when it displays being the wrong day, even though it is technically right. The time stamp on each post really means nothing though. I could have a window open from last week and publish a post in that window today and it would be stamped with last week's date, at least that's my theory. It definitely works on smaller time scales and even carries over from one day to the next. Also, I'm pretty sure I can go back and edit any post and it will not give any updated time or date for when any changes were made. The lesson of this pointless observation is the time stamp means nothing, but if you want to write your post after midnight but want it listed from the day before, just open the window before midnight and write that post whenever you feel like it. Also, unless you check this site regularly, I could be constantly going back over everything I write and you would never know. Somehow I feel like these observations were a waste of everyones time but I already wrote them all so it would just waste more time to go back and delete them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now for a mystery. Today, while walking to a friend's house, I encountered a piece of dog poop on the sidewalk. There were several strange things about this poop. Firstly, the poop was right in the middle of the sidewalk. Maybe that's not strange because I suppose it's possible that someone is just that much of a lazy ass that they won't even push the poop to the side of the walk. Or maybe they thought that it would be easier to notice and therefore avoid if it was in plain isolated view. Anyways, the strangest thing about the poop was something I did not notice at first, and for good reason. As I continued down the sidewalk I encountered another piece of the same poop, I'm guessing it was the same because it looked the same, I did not taste it to find out for sure. This was about half a block past the first piece. I considered it odd that the poop could have travelled so far down the sidewalk. I didn't think it likely that someone would kick a piece down the sidewalk until they realized what it was, nor did it seem very likely that the dog had been pooping on the go and the owner had let it happen everywhere. The real puzzler came when I crossed the street at the next block. There was more of the same poop. How did it get there? How did a piece of poop manage to travel half-way down one block and then cross the street? I have no clue. I'm going to have to label this one 'The Mystery of the Roaming Poop" and file it under 'unsolved'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided that April will officially be poll month. I'll try to have as many great polls going as possible. I'm not sure how many people actually visit this site daily, or even at all, but I was thinking of making the polls only last for a few days each. In preparation for this I'm putting up a new poll to find out a bit about visitors here. Please participate. The superior fruit poll is almost over, and apple is winning by one vote. If you don't agree that apples are superior to oranges you'd better vote now or forever hold your peace (piece? which one is it?).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some amusing dreams that clearly show again that I have been playing too many video games. The interesting thing about these ones is how I incorporated the video game format into real life. Often when I dream about video games from playing them too much it is just about the game itself and trying to complete difficult parts. Not in these dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the first part I had to fight the boss, who was actually the evil female boss from Ugly Betty and my boss in the dream. I guess it didn't matter that she was my boss because I had to defeat her. I had to run around this pond while stomping on guitar effect pedal type switches that would launch balls or something at the boss. The first one I launched was a good hit but then it got difficult to aim and time properly. I was getting scared about being caught by the boss but then she walked by me while I was running around and I noticed she didn't try to attack me so I felt safer. She was only a normal human after all. I think in the end I gave up and she didn't care that I had tried to defeat her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the second part I was in my oma's house and Ridley from the Metroid games was flying outside the windows. Ridley is a giant dragon type monster thing. Me and a group of people all had to run up and down the stairs to hide. The way it worked was that if Ridley saw us for longer than a few seconds he would attack us. We didn't really have any way to attack back so we would run upstairs until we saw his eye out at the window and then we would run back downstairs until we saw his eye down there and we'd have to run back up again. At some point I stopped worrying about Ridley and noticed a guy outside the front door. I was pretty sure that he was working for Ridley somehow, and I was also pretty sure that he was french. In my best french accent I told him to get lost and that nobody wanted him around. I was with a bunch of friends and they thought my accented verbal assault was awesome. Another friend got really into the attack and said the guy's clothes were really bad or something. The guy was clearly offended by this and started walking back to us to explain to my friend who had made the comment that my friend's clothes were actually much worse. He also explained that women were attracted to his clothes which he demonstrated by getting his female friend who was suddenly there to nod in approval. That's all I remember.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-5433130538936050818?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/5433130538936050818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=5433130538936050818' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/5433130538936050818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/5433130538936050818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/03/time-stamps-mean-nothing.html' title='The Time Stamps Mean Nothing'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-8532151269040354148</id><published>2008-03-25T22:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-25T22:50:07.030-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Some Musical Discussion</title><content type='html'>I had a new idea for making music. I really like making both mellow acoustic songs and energetic electronic songs. What if I recorded the same song in both styles? I think it would be fun and would work well. I always like hearing covers and remixes when both songs are good. It would save me the trouble of writing new songs but the arrangements and instrumentation could be radically different. Maybe that's lazy, but I think it could be effective. I know I'm always coming up with ideas for music and never follow through with them so there's no guarantee that this will ever happen, but for now it will be my goal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I said it before and I will say it again, Blonde Redhead's newest album '23' is so good. If you take one thing from reading this blog let it be that album. I find the songs so powerful and the sounds are so rich. I love it. I haven't listened to it too much, which is good because I usually listen to my favorite albums over and over and then lose interest. I'll try to savour this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking on that topic, we listened to Bach's Mass in B Minor the other day on Easter. We're not religious but my Dad wanted to play it anyways. He's said it on several occasions now that it is on a lot of desert island lists. What I mean by desert island lists is that if you were stranded on a desert island, the list would say what you would want to have with you. Apparently Bach's mass is so deep and complicated that you could probably listen to it over and over again without ever getting bored of it. While that might be true and the typical pop album might not hold up too well on a desert island I don't think I would want to listen to a mass, (I believe that's a funeral piece), everyday if I was stranded on a desert island. I was trying to think of something better to listen to, that would still not get boring and I realized I would just write an algorithm on a computer that could compose new songs that would always be changing and always be awesome. They'd probably have to be minimalist electronic music because I imagine it wouldn't work to use real instruments if it was all on computer. I think I could definitely get by on a desert island with a soundtrack like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm thinking I'm going to try to learn some PD, (pure data). It's a visual-based computer language that lets you do awesome things with music. It might take a while but the possibilities are endless. It would be cool to use a computer as an instrument. They are difficult to learn but their capabilities are stunning, and they can also maintain full performativity which is sweet. For example, I could use a camera capturing my motion on the computer to control the sounds it creates. The best part is that PD is free to download and use and is open source and runs on basically every operating system.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dreams I'm going to describe from last night both contain similar shocking and graphic violence. You have been warned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My cat hates it when other cats walk around just outside the back door. They walk by fairly often. We always have to chase them away. In my dream there was one cat outside that I was trying to scare away. My cat was sleeping on the rug by the door and I didn't want her to get upset. I knocked on the door to scare the cat but it did nothing. I then opened the door and barked at it and it ran a short distance away. Then it looked at me with curiosity and walked back to the door. I closed the door but somehow this weird cat ghosts half way through the door so that its front paws and head are inside the house. I'm kind of freaked out but I'm mostly concerned about my cat sleeping right there. I think the other cat might try to attack her. I try to stop the cat somehow and my mom tells me to scratch its eyes. I am completely revolved by the idea of scratching the cats eyes out and do a gross out dance in disgust. Meanwhile my mom gets a small dust brush and starts smacking it across the face to try to get its eyes. I'm still doing the gross out dance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second dream was even stranger. I think I was at some amusement park and some huge family comes up to me with their camera and asks me to take a photo of them. They are standing in a group but I can't seem to frame them properly. I feel like I need to move farther back. Somehow I end up shooting them from around a wall and all I get is a picture of the father and his son, which is an awesome picture, just not a full family shot. The details get blurry here for a second but I think that the entire family was killed or something by being shot with guns. I think it was some gangsters. I run into the gangsters nearby and they decide they need to kill me. I have a gun from somewhere, maybe it was theirs, and I try to shoot them. There are only two of them. I think I kill one right away but the other one is difficult. It's because the gun sucks. It shoots large cork bullets which aren't very strong, and the gun isn't very accurate. I'm running from the gangster the whole time and right when he catches up with me I manage to get a good shot right up in his neck. The cork bullet goes in and he is temporarily stunned by the shot. By this point I am standing right next to a waterfall observation deck and I throw the gangster over the railing. He rolls down a chainlink fence roof for a short distance and then disappears over the edge of the cliff. I'm relieved that I took care of the gangsters. Very shortly after that I am suddenly grabbed from behind and it is the gangster. He climbed back up from the bottom and he is wet. I am freaked out because now he is really pissed and he is definitely going to kill me. He is super tough and he has huge muscles. I try attacking him and he basically lets me because he knows I can't hurt him. I punch him in the face several times with what I would consider good hits but he just ignores them. I'm wondering why he's dragging it out. I'm also kind of mad about it. I get him on the ground somehow and start going for his eye. I don't know if he was still letting me do this but I don't think he wanted me too. All I know is I have to kill him before he gets bored of me trying and  just kills me. I push my fingers into his upper and lower eyelids on one eye and his eyeball starts bulging out. I can basically rip it out at this point but I don't know if I want to because it is seriously disgusting. I think the dream stopped there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that I've always said I would do anything to defend myself if someone was trying to kill me but now I don't think I could. I have never been so close to taking out someone's eye and it felt very wrong. That kind of hands-on gruesome violence is tough to handle, even in a dream. I hope I never get into a real life or death situation where I have to rip someone's eyeball out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-8532151269040354148?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/8532151269040354148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=8532151269040354148' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/8532151269040354148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/8532151269040354148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-had-new-idea-for-making-music.html' title='Some Musical Discussion'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-8936395608157208380</id><published>2008-03-24T23:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-25T00:53:30.324-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It Happens So Fast</title><content type='html'>I took a walk in the park today because it was a beautiful day. It amazes me how quickly nature changes in the spring time. The greens are unbelievably green. It almost has an unnaturalness about it but I think it's just the winter colours that are still in my head. This is spring. Everything is new again and better. I don't think it gets any better than this. To see bright young leaves sprout from the bare branches is a sight that no other season can offer. I intend to get out into the park as often as I can over the next few weeks so I can observe the changes. The plants grow up so fast, before you know it their leaves are turning red again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took the example from my cat this afternoon and had a nap in the sun. I just lay down on my hardwood floor with one pillow for my head and fell asleep quite comfortably. The air outside is still cold, but the sun coming through the windows is lovely. I can't think of a way I'd rather sleep. I close my eyes and feel the sun spreading across my face. Maybe that is how plants feel. I can't believe how comforting a burning ball of gas can be. I love the sun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was only one dream that I thought was worth remembering today. One of my friends was telling us about his dream and for some reason we were reenacting the whole thing the the dream. There were werewolves in a public washroom and they were making sure that anyone that wasn't a werewolf was made into one. The details are really hazy now, but they were tearing some people to shreds for some reason. When it was my turn I was wondering if it was really so necessary to do such a faithful reenactment and why we were doing it in the first place. I didn't want to get scratched up so I think we skipped that part. I don't know if that makes any sense, but I like the idea of reenacting a dream inside a dream. Any dreams that deal with dreams are kind of cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, I love having awesome secrets. I hate having to keep them to myself but on the other hand they can only get bigger and better if you hold onto them. I recommend finding some for yourself. They will make your life that much more meaningful and exciting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-8936395608157208380?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/8936395608157208380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=8936395608157208380' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/8936395608157208380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/8936395608157208380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/03/it-happens-so-fast.html' title='It Happens So Fast'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-4072665529165148224</id><published>2008-03-23T17:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-23T17:25:28.511-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm In Bad Shape</title><content type='html'>It's all too true. I am not fit. I'm a fat guy in a thin guy's body. I don't get close to enough exercise. Evaluating my priorities I think that exercise is definitely something that I want but for whatever reason I don't get enough. I think it's difficult for me to jump right into a good routine for daily exercise, especially when I'm busy and every day is really different. I'm hoping that with weather warming up I might be more encouraged to get some activity going. I need help with this too. Please suggest playing sports to me if we are trying to figure out what to do. I love playing tennis but I think I would play any sport if the people are fun. I just really need to get back into moving around. I could very easily be one of those 22 year olds that dies from a heart attack. I know I may not look it, but I am probably in some of the worst shape of my life. I blame my super sore back injury on being out of shape too. If I had been in better shape when I had done my mid-air twisting dodgeball throw I'm sure it wouldn't have tweaked my lower back like that. I'm not saying I'm going to get into great shape now, but I am saying I would like to try, and I need help. Exercising alone is not fun most of the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a strange dream where there was a fairy or something granting people wishes. I think it was actually just some woman who may or may not have had wings. She asked me what I wanted to wish for and I asked what the restrictions were. She said that if I wanted an awesome dance party with all my friends it was probably beyond her power. I was disappointed but realized what I really wanted was some toast with the tastiest spread ever all over it. She said she was out of toast. I was not impressed. I asked her what she suggested I wish for. I can't remember what she said but the whole event reminded me of going to a bad restaurant and then ordering something that sounds great and being told that they can't do that item, and then being told that only the desert menu is still available.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-4072665529165148224?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/4072665529165148224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=4072665529165148224' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/4072665529165148224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/4072665529165148224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/03/im-in-bad-shape.html' title='I&apos;m In Bad Shape'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-3225358844596966538</id><published>2008-03-23T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-23T00:24:02.556-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bottled Water</title><content type='html'>I would not be surprised if one day they even charged us for 'bottled air'. Oh wait, they already do. It seems like as soon as something is put in a package it gains value and people are willing to pay for it. I really need to get in on this lucrative business. I think the only problem is that they already sell basically every single useless thing you could possibly imagine that you can already get for free. Not only is bottled water a waste of money but also a waste of plastic. Especially in vancouver where the water is already so good. Bottled water frustrates me. I am completely confident that if it did not exist our lives would be better. I'm not sure how or why, but somehow they would be, even if it was only from not having to consider the stupidity of bottled water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I witnessed an awesome scene on the skytrain the other day. There were two tough looking dudes standing across from me. They both had shaved heads and sunglasses and black clothing. The tougher of the two had a goatee and had tatoos all over his head and down his neck. He was also wearing an ultimate fighting championship hoody. I wouldn't want to mess with him. A few stops after I got on, a young man (say 20ish?) and his mother (say 50ish?) get on the train with their bikes. I stop paying attention to these people for a second and when I turn back the two bald dudes are chatting it up with this kid and his mom. The secret to the conversation? They are all francophones. I thought it was so cool that people that I would never expect to talk to each other were now having a friendly discussion, all because they shared a foreign language. It's amazing how these details can bring people together. I'm very sure that were they in quebec or france they would not be on the same terms. As a minority here however they were able to bond just like that. I found it kind of touching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm writing from my basement right now and seconds earlier I noticed something floating in front of my face. I thought it was a dust ball or something, which wouldn't make too much sense, but I was about to brush it out of the way with my hand. I then focused on it and noticed it was a spider climbing down from the ceiling. It was a bit of a startle. I told it to get out of the way and moved it with a pencil. I lost track of it when I moved it and now its sitting somewhere down here with me. I don't have a big problem with spiders, but I definitely do not like them suddenly appearing right in front of my face. It also makes me realize that it could have very easily landed on my head and I may not have noticed. It's a little bit creepy to think about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My apple cores were gone today. A victim of spring cleaning. I'll have to start again soon and try to beat my record of three. I challenge anyone else that lives with other people to leave apple cores lying in a communal space and see how long they will sit there. You may be surprised.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, this is saturday's post. I just missed getting it in before midnight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-3225358844596966538?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/3225358844596966538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=3225358844596966538' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/3225358844596966538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/3225358844596966538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/03/bottled-water.html' title='Bottled Water'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-7024667084192751798</id><published>2008-03-21T14:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-21T14:32:33.190-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring Cleaning</title><content type='html'>I like everything about the word spring. It's fresh, it's fun, it's warming. But when it hooks up with the word cleaning it just gets bad really fast. I'm not sure what I don't like about spring cleaning so much. Maybe it's the laborious cleaning. Or maybe it's having to go through everything I have shoved to the corners of rooms and tried to ignore. Whatever it is, I am not a fan. I guess I have been assigned bathroom cleaning duty. At least bathrooms are smaller rooms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While my parents were cleaning out the cupboards in the kitchen they found a 3 litre beer bottle. I'm pretty excited about that. I don't think spring cleaning will get any better than a discovery like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To anyone religious, happy good friday. Thanks for the day off. Is this the day Jesus is supposed to have died on?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you remember the apple core on the bookshelf that I wrote about a few days ago, I now have 3 of them sitting in a line. No one has said anything yet. My new goal is to see how many I can get up there before they get thrown out by someone. With spring cleaning it might be tricky though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a strange dream where I was being tested with a bunch of people, including some friends, for a job testing video games, which is my plan for the summer, only the test made no sense. There were no video games involved. There were small balloons scattered across the floor. I can't remember what I was supposed to do, but I passed the test. As a reward for passing, everyone was given some kind of prize. I got a huge pile of small paper tickets. One of my friends thought it was really ironic because I already had a pile at home. I wasn't so enthusiastic because I realized that they were completely useless. Another friend proposed that everyone that passed should join in a huddle to celebrate our continuing to the next round. We had a huddle just like a football team. That's about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have much more to say today, I've been finishing a paper since I finished breakfast. I'm done now. I feel awesome.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-7024667084192751798?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/7024667084192751798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=7024667084192751798' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/7024667084192751798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/7024667084192751798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/03/spring-cleaning.html' title='Spring Cleaning'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-7580235737133530450</id><published>2008-03-20T22:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-20T23:54:35.179-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Somebody Killed Skytain Etiquette</title><content type='html'>Imagine a world where lines do not exist. A world where no one cares about you and everyone fends for themselves. A world where there are no rules. Imagine no longer. This is the skytrain. People will slide in front of you before you know what's up. They actually force you to be an asshole if you want to get on the train because if you were polite and waited for someone to let you on, you could be waiting until rush hour is over. I have seen things on the skytrain that I almost refused to believe because they were so blatantly assholish. I don't know what people are thinking, but I lose all respect for someone when they try to slip in front of me at the last second.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not going to say that I'm really badass or anything, but I don't like to let people get away with that stuff so easily. If I'm with anyone else I will usually make a loud comment about how stupid and rude people are, with swears included. If I am at the front of the line I will take my bag off and forcibly block people trying to squeeze past me. I won't look at them, I will act like I don't even see them. They won't say anything. These people are actually cowards. If there is a man that I think has been rude in trying to get on the skytrain I will usually stand really close to them on the train, partly because I have to, partly to bother them. Again, I will not look at them or try to stare them down. I think it's more effective that way. I feel better when I do any of these things. I usually find it funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing that I found funny today on the skytrain was this dude listening to music on his headphones. He was totally into it and moving his head around with his eyes closed like he was in a trance. This older woman was watching him and smiling. She must have thought it was nice to see the guy feeling the music so much and so openly. I think she had to be the talkative type because she leaned over to him and asked him what he was listening to. I don't know why she would ask because it seemed like she was too old to appreciate the kind of music this guy's age demographic would generally enjoy, he must have been late 20s, she was probably late 40s. The guy pulls down his headphones just for a second and answers her. In a really normal voice he just says 'The Sound of Children Dying" and then puts the headphones back on. I'm not sure if that is a band or not, but it didn't matter because the look on the woman's face was so funny. I don't know how to describe it. Maybe a mix between disguised shock and regret at having asked the question in the first place. I couldn't look at either of the two for the rest of the train ride because it was too funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've already written a lot so I'm going to only write my favorite dream from last night. It was my brother's birthday, which is actually about 6 months away. My oma (grandma) had made a cake for him. It was weird cake though. It was just a small strip of cake, and it went up in small steps. Someone thought that it wasn't really enough cake. I had to explain that it was a bonus game cake, here's evidence I played too many video games last night. I picked up a pencil and began to demonstrate. With the eraser I tapped each step on the cake from the bottom to the top. When I hit the top step another set of steps rose up out of the plate and I continued tapping those steps. The cake began to grow as I quickly and effectively tapped all the right spots. At a certain point the cake stopped growing and peanut M&amp;amp;Ms started appearing on the top of the cake. I kept going until I realized my time was up and the bonus game was over. I then explained that I unlocked as much of the cake as I could. It is a really bizarre translation of video games in my opinion. My mom said I shouldn't eat any of the cake because I was getting too fat. I agreed, and I didn't care because I didn't really want any cake. I was pretty happy about getting fat though. I have never been able to gain weight and I guess putting on a few pounds was an achievement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had some other dreams that made no sense at all so I won't even try to explain them. I think in one I walked into a horror movie trailer by accident somehow and then had to save some little girl from the bad people. It was intense, but I don't think it made sense narratively so I'll leave it at that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, my friend showed me the footage today that he got back for his film he shot. It looked really good. He was telling me how his instructor had said that the dailies, the quickly processed shots from the day's shoot are often the most rewarding part of making a film. By that logic we thought it would be cool to make a movie of just dailies. I also thought that it would be cool to shoot short 1 roll films every week and then put them online, without editing them at all. Film just looks good, I think it would be fun to see. The only thing I would be concerned about is the compression getting the videos up online taking away from the awesome film look. I guess they wouldn't have to go online, but the audience would be much smaller. It's just an idea I wanted to get down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all for today, more than enough I think. Actually, I'm wondering if people will read all of this because it is so long and time consuming. Thoughts anyone?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-7580235737133530450?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/7580235737133530450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=7580235737133530450' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/7580235737133530450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/7580235737133530450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/03/somebody-killed-skytain-etiquette.html' title='Somebody Killed Skytain Etiquette'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-1764822353482123776</id><published>2008-03-19T20:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-19T22:51:40.559-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cloning Isn't As Cool/Terrible As You Might Think</title><content type='html'>Listening to some people in my bio class today made me think that maybe I should post my rant on cloning. I've only ever said it out loud, usually when someone is doubting whether cloning is such a good idea. A lot of people seem to have problems with the idea of cloning humans. What is the problem? A twin is essentially a clone. In vitro fertilization is essentially cloning. No matter what the movies say babies cannot be grown in tanks of pink or yellow liquids. They need a mother. I don't believe any animals have been cloned without being born from a mother. I wish cloning was as awesome as it is in Star Wars, but it's not. I'm no professional, and I'm certainly not very educated on the subject, but to the best of my understanding to clone a human is actually really boring. The scientists take a dna molecule and then fertilize an egg with it or something. Then they need to plant it in a woman's uterus where it can continue to grow just like every other baby. Maybe people are aware of this when they say human cloning is wrong, and if they are I think they are crazy. If I suddenly found out that I was a clone of someone from the past I really don't think I would care. What's the big ethical dilemma? If we can drive cars and cut down tree to make useless shit and hunt animals to extinction then how could human cloning possibly be so wrong?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A seagull flew over me today and I had to ask myself, if birds were really good at aiming where they pooped would they be pooping on me all the time? I wonder if birds are even aware of where they poop. I always feel like they have some kind of superiority complex feeding animosity towards us ground-dwelling humans and it seems like they would be out to get us in whatever way they can. Whatever it is, I'm glad they either have bad aim or generally don't want to poop on us because life would be a lot grosser if they did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came up with an awesome idea last night just before going to bed. Dream betting. The premise is very simple. The participants decide on a particular subject together, generally one that is very bizarre and random. Then each participant tries to be the first person to dream about that particular subject. That person wins the bet and whatever was at stake, say $2 or something. Obviously the honour system is the key here since no one can know if you actually dreamed something or not. That's why low stakes are safer. Subjects could range widely, and there could also be multiple bets going at once, some with higher stakes if they seem more difficult to dream. I think the game would be tons of fun. I wanted to test myself to see if I could dream a bizarre subject on command so last night I focused on 'fighting an albino kangaroo' while lying in bed. Apparently I dream in irony now. Rather than fighting an albino kangaroo in my dream I dreamed about explaining dream betting to my mom, using the example of fighting an albino kangaroo. At least it was on my mind. Before each bet is made, rules should be established for what the acceptable conditions of dreaming the subject are. For example, if I merely observed an albino kangaroo or challenged an albino kangaroo to a fight but it declined these would not be bet winning conditions. I intend to start dream betting as soon as I find willing participants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also had a dream that I was in a video game with my brother. I guess it was a video game because we had objectives and stuff but we were doing everything in real life. We had hijacked or were going to hijack some important technology from UBC and were trying to stay ahead of the authorities, driving down a highway that was supposed to be around UBC but did not look much like it. It looked more like a generic racing game highway, or maybe Richmond. I don't really remember much else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I figured out this morning that one of my dream collection strategies is that if I wake up without anything to remember I just go back to sleep and get some new dreams. I couldn't do it this morning at all because I had to get up early and leave, thus the lack of detailed dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, Simon and Edgar, if you are reading this, please consider a trilogy because Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz are so good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-1764822353482123776?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/1764822353482123776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=1764822353482123776' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/1764822353482123776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/1764822353482123776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/03/cloning-isnt-as-coolterrible-as-you.html' title='Cloning Isn&apos;t As Cool/Terrible As You Might Think'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-3976944783579145523</id><published>2008-03-18T19:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-18T19:47:06.382-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm No Word Processing Expert</title><content type='html'>I was writing a paper for school today and not having an especially great time. I was doing what I could to procrastinate every five/ten minutes, but I think I was making some good progress. Then, all of a sudden I notice something I want to change just a sentence earlier. I click and go back. Then I start typing, expecting the text to move to make room for what I am adding. No such luck. It's just writing over what I had before, each letter I type eats the next one in line. This is no good. Now normally I know just what to do, hit the insert button and I'm good again. I'm not sure how the problem started in the first place, but when I look at the keyboard I notice there is no insert button. In its place is a 'help' button. I can tell you, pushing that button certainly did not help. I tried tons of button combinations. I scoured the word menus several times, and then again. I asked the help menu that popped up when I pushed the help button. I searched google with the only words I knew, insert delete word. I found a forum discussing a problem similar to mine, but still it took some time before I could figure it out. Maybe I was just not thinking properly at the time, or maybe this stupid keyboard should have an insert button, but it must have wasted at least 20 minutes of my time. I didn't really talk about the time I spent just sitting there swearing, but it was considerable. I like to think I'm good with computers, but this is a bit of a blow to my ego. Oh well, it's only word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To further my frustration today, I still had no running water for a long time. I felt pretty gross. No shower, no washing my hands in fresh running water. It was not enjoyable. I decided the day would just be a bad day, I would be unclean, I would wear sweatpants, I would not leave the house, and I would work on my paper. I think the worst part was having clammy hands from not being able to wash them properly. I got into a bit of a cranky mood. I haven't written a paper in a while, so it could have been that too. When we got the water back around 5 and I had a shower a little later I felt like a billion dollars again. I know I will cherish this water for at least a few days now before I go back to simply finding it useful. Sorry about my bitching about the no water. You could always use it vicariously to better appreciate the amazing plumbing that I'm sure you're enjoying right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a magazine sitting on a shelf here and I just read the cover the other day. It said 'The Running Issue". I was really confused by that. It showed a picture of a middle aged woman smiling and jogging. She didn't look like anything was wrong. I couldn't figure out what the issue was with running, I figured it was probably hard on people's knees. Today I had the epiphany that 'issue' was actually referring to the magazine, not a problem. Everything came together for me. I'll admit I feel a little bit stupid for making a mistake like that, but consider this as well: maybe I'm just so used to the media presenting negative stories that I immediately assumed it was another one of those. You have to agree, the news is almost always bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dream time, two funny stories, though I'm sure there were more. I had a really fast flashback eating dinner tonight but it was gone again like that. I wish I could get a fuller outline of the night's dreams sometime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first dream, I am hanging out with my friend who is currently at school in Ontario. We often play sports together and go on bike rides when he's around. In my dream he's back here in Vancouver and we decide to go roller blading. I never roller blade, which is probably why my understanding of it in the dream is so mixed up, though it is also strange that I would dream about it in the first place. I have some old roller blades in a closet so I pull them out and we go. We're going off road a lot through a forest trail. I remember being surprised how easy the ride is going over mulch and gravel and dirt and everything you could find in a forest. I'm not gliding too much, most of it feels like walking, but walking like I am pretending to roller blade. I get worried about a few steep parts but everything goes fine. We get back to my place and then we decide to go play tennis. My brother is going to join us. My brother and I are both going to play against my friend, and we are going to wear roller blades while doing it. Nothing seems strange about this, it's basically the same as roller hockey or something like that as far as we're concerned. We start to go but then realize my roller blades are sucking. The wheels are all deformed and flat. I pull the whole thing apart and the wheels turn out to be really cheap and hollow plastic. I wonder how I had been riding on them before and figure out that I was actually just mostly walking the whole time. I try to put the roller blades back together but give up because they are cheap anyways and old and they won't work anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other dream, I'm at Red Robin's with a couple of friends for lunch. We order burgers and are sitting around eating and talking. When we finish we stay there and keep getting bottom orange crush refills and bottomless fries refills. There must have been some time lapse somewhere because before too long I notice it is around 8pm already. We've been there all afternoon and now it is later evening. I suddenly notice two servers standing nearby watching us anxiously. I suddenly realize they want us to leave because we have been there forever and they haven't been making any more money from us eating and drinking on free refills. I tell my friends we should go so we get the bill. I pay in cash and though I don't think it actually was a great tip, both me and the server think it is a generous tip. There's a nickel sitting on the table for some reason and she doesn't want it because its not very much and she is getting a good tip anyways, so she gives the nickel to me. I put it in my mouth and test it with my teeth. I'm getting ready to swallow it because that is what I do with small change. I don't want it taking up space in my wallet. Then the server says she doesn't think I should swallow it. I was thinking the same thing because I was very familiar with the sensation of swallowing nickels and it is not pleasant so I pull it out of my mouth and put it in my wallet after all. Oh well, I just couldn't go through with swallowing another nickel. After everything I ate, I think the nickel is the only thing I actually tasted.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-3976944783579145523?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/3976944783579145523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=3976944783579145523' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/3976944783579145523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/3976944783579145523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/03/im-no-word-processing-expert.html' title='I&apos;m No Word Processing Expert'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-8292593330356547061</id><published>2008-03-17T20:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-17T21:26:43.391-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Playing a 19th Century French General...</title><content type='html'>On my way home today I was discussing huge ideas about the world with my friend on transit. While repeating the discussion here would not do it justice because we covered so much, we did briefly touch upon the idea of recording the conversation. I thought the easiest way to do it would be to type it out in an online chat perhaps so that we could pick our words more carefully, while also instantly creating a textual record of our thoughts. We could just copy and paste the discussion and other people could read it if they wanted. I don't know. I'm sure people do that already, but I was just thinking it might be worth joining them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm starting a new habit. I eat apples while I'm at the computer and then I leave the core on the bookshelf. Someone else always throws it out, but I rarely hear about it. I know my parents have left apple cores lying around in the past, so its not a big deal. I think I'm going to keep doing it until someone makes a point of really being annoyed by it, if that ever happens. It could just become a habit of the others to throw it out. That would be an interesting experiment. Like the straw that never broke the camel's back, despite the straw being annoying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to add right here that I hate it when I have a bunch of awesome things to write down here and then lose a bunch just before writing them. That is happening now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In dreams, here's a funny one. In reality there is a show called Prank Patrol on YTV where they basically help kids pull sweet pranks. Anyways, in my dream I have applied to be on Prank Patrol and I get accepted to do a show. I don't think I actually applied, but somehow my name comes up and I am doing it anyways. I don't think I choose the prank I get to do though because it is really unusual and I never would have thought it up, although I did in fact dream it up. I skip over all the planning in my dream and it goes straight to the prank. I'm watching it happen on TV when it does, kind of strange organization of events. I think I may have been watching it there on TV but I think the prank was also happening right then, so I was two people? Anyways, I am dressed up as a 19th century French general and I am doing a play on stage in the prank. I'm in the middle of a monologue in French. I notice watching it on TV that I don't have my mustache and I guess that I must have shaved it off for the prank, but I don't care, it's more just an observation. I finish the monologue and pull a really fancy pistol/musket from my side. It has a whole bunch of switches and triggers and it's covered in gold in places. I start holding it in a really flamboyantly gay way and then I pull the trigger in the same fashion, pointing the gun at the crowd. The prank starts now when a member of the audience pretends to get shot. Everyone in the audience freaks out and scramble to leave the theatre. It's actually a really dumb prank. I don't think anyone was really thinking that it would be good, but it was done anyways. I don't even know who's idea it was. Like I said, the planning stage was completely skipped in my dream. Apparently there were tons of little kids at the play when the prank was done and they were all terrified. Later I'm standing around and all the kids are coming up to me one at a time and telling me how much they liked the performance after they got over the fake shooting. The kids must be about 5 or 6 but they are telling me that they think I am an amazing actor and they can imagine that I will do great things. I think that's all that happened in the dream. It is possibly one of the strangest and most bizarre dream I have had recently. It's too bad I don't have a picture of me dressed up as a 19th century French general holding that weird gun because it looked hilarious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During my solo bus time coming home I thought up a new idea that I'm excited about. I can't actually share it, perhaps never. I am writing it here more for a record than anything else. All I will say is that I hope people like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, Ericsson, if you're reading this, I think my dull but persistent headache is the worst physical pain of the day. I got off easy for sure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-8292593330356547061?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/8292593330356547061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=8292593330356547061' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/8292593330356547061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/8292593330356547061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/03/im-playing-19th-century-french-general.html' title='I&apos;m Playing a 19th Century French General...'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-7664235326426731915</id><published>2008-03-16T23:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-16T23:41:48.315-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Really Like Water</title><content type='html'>You probably really like water too. You might just not realize it. My house has no water for a few  days which I can say is a really sucky thing. It's kind of like camping, only not fun. I can't bathe, I can't drink from the tap, and I have to manually flush the toilets. I am not happy about it. I realize that many people do not have the luxuries of running water, but the thing is that I am very used to them, and not having that regularity is a big deal for me. I love water. I can't wait until it comes back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I had around 10 eggs for breakfast. They were scrambled up with all sorts of delicious foods such as mushroom, tomato, spinach, onion, sausage, bacon, marinara sauce, and olives. I don't think I would have it again, but I'm glad that I did. It was an experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had some funny dreams last night too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first one was a continuation of the party that we had just had in my friend's house. We were all still sitting around and the door was open. Some young wanna-be-gangster kids came into the party and starting acting like idiots. I was wondering why they were there because they were young, I didn't know them, and they seemed like people I would not like. I guess one of them started dancing. I noticed a few that were just outside that were looking kind of shady. They were up to something, I wasn't sure exactly what. Apparently they had just come by to use the bathroom. I told them that if they expected to use a stranger's bathroom they should be on their best behavior and definitely not vandalize the front yard. They were rude and insolent. I went outside and started yelling at them, using the word 'fuck' very often. I was really angry that these punk kids were causing trouble at my friend's house while he was having a party. I told them to leave, and to make sure they understood me I was carrying a landscaping sandbag around really menacingly while addressing them. I really wanted to hit them but I knew it wouldn't help much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another part of the dream we were driving around downtown I think, or walking. One of my friends really wanted a veggie burrito with bean sprouts and beans. He said he knew an awesome place. His description had me visualizing the burrito and I realized I really wanted one too. He navigated us through a sketchy alley and we found our way into a surprisingly busy restaurant/pub place. We got a table and it seemed like we immediately all had beers. Someone handed me one and I wondered who was paying for it. I initially thought that my friends had ordered it but then I found out that another table had bought us the drinks. I was trying to figure out what table had bought us drinks. I thought for sure it was the table of loud people that were probably getting drunk. Someone pointed to the actual table that bought us the drinks. All the people were wearing yellow uniforms. They were a baseball team. The players may have been changing because at one point I thought they were all kids and later I thought it was weird that there were 40 and 50 year olds on a kids team. It turned out that it had just been one girl that had bought us all drinks. I was really confused because she looked like she was probably only 16 and way too young to try to pick up me and my friends, but I don't think she was really interested in us that way. I couldn't understand her motives at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only other part of a dream that I can assemble here in some sense is when I used my friend's bathroom. I think I made #2, and then flushed. My friends came in when I opened the door and they noticed poo in the bottom of the sink. I swore that I had not pooped in the sink. I realized that it was a problem with the plumbing from when I had flushed the toilet. The poo had just come back up through the sink pipe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I woke up I was joking about the dream with the 16 year-old girl buying us drinks with my friends and we started to wonder if it would actually be possible for someone underage to buy drinks for another table. They would never have contact with the alcohol so it makes sense logically. BC is a stupid place though when it comes to alcohol. So many dumb laws an regulations. If I was underage I would definitely try buying a drink for another table. I think it would be funny.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-7664235326426731915?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/7664235326426731915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=7664235326426731915' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/7664235326426731915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/7664235326426731915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-really-like-water.html' title='I Really Like Water'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-3141953418162302322</id><published>2008-03-15T15:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-15T16:11:09.979-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It Was Much Lamer Back Then</title><content type='html'>Last night I asked a friend a fairly random question. I asked "if you were alive 500 years ago, what do you think you'd want to be?" He said he would want to be an artist for sure. But then we talked about it and artists really didn't have it very good back then. They were mostly working for the church, and they couldn't do anything radical. They also relied on the patronage of the wealthy, there was no public art-sphere in existence. So what would be the best thing to do 500 years ago? I think being royalty would really be the only thing you could aspire to, even though if you weren't already you'd have no chance at it. Sure, you could follow your interests, but at a certain point it might interfere with someone important and they'd have you shut down. I think that society has at least become much more hospitable for a greater range of people, if only slightly. I'm not sure what I'm getting at but in conclusion it would suck to have lived 500 years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was thinking the other day that I'm posting a lot of ideas here and anyone could just come along and steal them, even the bad ones. Then I realized that every time I post it gets stamped with a date and probably goes into some database. Maybe a blog is an ideal place to post ideas because it can be accessed by everyone but still keeps it under your name. I'm totally fine though if people want to use my ideas. It would just not be so awesome if someone took something, called it their own and made tons of money from it, not to say that I'm a genious pool of invention or anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the dream front I kind of didn't bother to remember them because they were all just about socializing and dealing with the same problems I deal with in real life, which I wouldn't bother talking about anyways and probably aren't very interesting for the most part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ericsson, if you're reading this my back hurts a lot. I did something to it again in dodgeball. This kind of injury makes me realize how frail our bodies really are. It doesn't take too much to wreck yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buffets always seem like a great idea before and even during, but after, when the regret builds up with the over-eating it definitely is not so appealing anymore. Please do not suggest going to do buffets with me. I love them, but I always regret them. Eating too much is a weakness of mine. I can't stop. The worst part about buffets is when you pay afterwards and you really don't think it was worth it. I'd rather pay the same amount for less food and not feel sick afterwards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's the best I can do for this saturday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-3141953418162302322?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/3141953418162302322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=3141953418162302322' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/3141953418162302322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/3141953418162302322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/03/it-was-much-lamer-back-then.html' title='It Was Much Lamer Back Then'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-8109500580535546233</id><published>2008-03-14T09:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-14T10:29:11.744-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dream Appropriation</title><content type='html'>I woke up several times in the night and had only a half-second of awareness of my dreams before they instantly faded. This sucks especially because one time after waking up I felt like something really exciting had happened, like maybe something to do with a giant monster. I wish I could remember that. I was pretty happy when I finally got up this morning to have some recollection of my most recent dreams. Most of the details are difficult to tie together, but I found a lot of amusing stuff that happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty sure I was at a party with a smaller group of my friends. Either that, or we were getting ready to go for dinner or a party or something, but there was a group of us in a house that I don't think I've ever been to. All of the events that I can remember took place in here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first event that I want to mention strikes me as hilarious. As I said a few days ago, my friend Mitch has started a dream blog and I have been reading it daily because dreams are really cool to read. I was reading his most recent dream last night and in one part he had a dream that he was eating meat, which upset him because he has been a vegetarian for a year. He's also mentioned that he's had these kind of dreams to me before too. He'll just be eating something in his dream and then all of a sudden he realizes it is meat and he wonders how the hell he started eating meat without knowing it. Enter my hilarious dream... I'm sitting next to Mitch at a table at this party thing and there is a bowl of what looks like pieces of bacon in it. Next thing I know Mitch reaches for a piece and pops it in his mouth. I remember watching with curiosity, not wanting to interrupt his action immediately. After a few seconds I say to him "Hey Mitch, way to eat bacon", I think I was happy about it for him. He turns and looks at me with surprise. "This isn't bacon, it's ______." I can't remember what he thought it was, but I didn't think it was that. "I'm pretty sure it's bacon, let me try some." I take a piece and eat it. It definitely is bacon. "Yeah, this is bacon." He pulls out as much of the bacon from his mouth that he can, and I wonder if he ingested any of it and whether that's a big deal. I say that I think it is hilarious that he keeps dreaming about eating meat without knowing it and now he has done it in real life somehow. He isn't very happy. I can't remember, but I get the feeling that he might have just said 'whatever' and eaten more anyways. I think I was happy about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another part of my dream I am sitting next to my friend from high school on a couch. He is a pretty big guy, tall and solid, not fat though. He is explaining that no one ever calls him tall anymore, they all call him wide, which is actually a compliment because it is referring to his wide shoulders. I mention with some regret that I am only called tall still, never wide. I'm disappointed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess the party hasn't really started yet in the dream, but we are all kind of getting ready. I'm drinking beers. For some reason every time I pay attention to my beers I seem to have more opened. I'm thinking that I probably shouldn't keep opening beers. At one point there are more uncapped bottles than capped bottles and I'm not happy because it was stupid to open more than one at a time. I don't even know where all the beer is coming from. I'm trying to finish the one I'm holding before we leave and everyone is waiting on me. I'm trying to chug it as fast as I can but I realize that I will definitely need to pee before we leave because of all the liquid. I feel bad that I will hold everyone up even more and I'm afraid they might lose patience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other things that I remember are showing off the music I made last night to everyone. I am saying how awesome it is and people are generally agreeing I think. Some of my friends are going to do a bunch of drugs before we leave, and they are outside downstairs doing that. Some people are just getting ready to go out to join them and I think it is funny because they don't really do drugs but they seem really casual about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also have to keep a secret in my dream and I keep getting really close to letting things slip at the wrong times. I'm good at keeping personal secrets but when it's about awesome things I can sometimes forget about not talking about them. I always feel under pressure when I am made privy to that kind of confidential information.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I dreamed about way more, but this is all I can remember solidly enough to write about. It's still the morning and considering I wrote my other post late last night I don't really have anything but dreams to report for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-8109500580535546233?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/8109500580535546233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=8109500580535546233' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/8109500580535546233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/8109500580535546233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/03/dream-appropriation.html' title='Dream Appropriation'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-5967346488402865784</id><published>2008-03-13T23:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-13T23:46:35.186-07:00</updated><title type='text'>They'd Have No Choice</title><content type='html'>While crossing the street this morning there was a car that was kind of coming my way but I thought to myself that I was far enough to the side that it could move around me. Then I thought about the other two people that I could hear talking somewhere behind me. I realized that if they were in the middle of the road when the car was right there, the might actually swerve into me. In this case, killing me would be the lesser of two evils. I think having to die so that more people don't have to die is a pretty lame way to die. Especially if it's something stupid like crossing the street. If you give your life to save people that is entirely different. This would be out of your hands and you would just get killed because the only alternative would be killing more other people. The funny thing is that I was in a great mood this morning when I thought the whole thing up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regarding dreams, I recalled absolutely nothing this morning. It was strange. Normally I have quite a bit but lately it has been getting less and less that I can remember. I was packing my tiffin later this morning, my metal, multi-part food container that I fill with indian food at the market, and I suddenly had a feeling of relief that I had my tiffin. Then I suddenly had a flashback to my dream where I had forgotten my tiffin at home and it was thursday, and I always bring my tiffin on thursdays, and it was also tiffin thursday, which is when I get a discount. I remember I was really upset and I think I was shouting "Noooooo!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may have also dreamed that I was speaking with an accent a lot. I'm not sure though because I've been doing it in real life a bit too, but I seem to recall doing it more than I usually do. I think it was Scottish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This may be my one month aniversary for the blog. That is some thirty posts now. It is crazy to think that if I can stick with my original challenge I will have 365 posts in another 11 months. That's enough for a book, not that this is really worth publishing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went with only 1 meal for today again. Until I got home. Then I made myself a burger and then I made a 3 egg omelette with sausage and fries. I'm still kind of hungry. I am impressed that I did manage to go that long without food and I felt alright after a while. I'm learning that I can push my body much further than I thought I could, in terms of food and sleep at least. It's probably not good for my health, but I still feel great emotionally and I think that is the most important thing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-5967346488402865784?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/5967346488402865784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=5967346488402865784' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/5967346488402865784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/5967346488402865784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/03/theyd-have-no-choice.html' title='They&apos;d Have No Choice'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-6185977226503167074</id><published>2008-03-13T00:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-13T01:25:16.068-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This is actually my post for wednesday...</title><content type='html'>I think it's probably going to say thursday but it's really still wednesday. I haven't had a real chance to write anything yet, so here it is. I have a list of things that I wanted to remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Firstly, this is kind of on the same vein as the stranger that came to my house. Yesterday, I got a phone call. It was the usual, "hello?... hello?... hel-lo?..." call. The kind that really annoys me where no one answers. But this time I heard someone on the other line. It sounded like a woman. The only words I heard this person speak were kind of an exasperated "oh god". Then they hung up. I thought it was funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a dream last night that I only just remembered today in class. I was in class and the instructor was asking us to compare art and something else. She called on me to make some points. I stated very clearly that I didn't really believe art was real, and there was no such thing as art that I could accurately compare with something else. She told me to just do it anyways. I repeated that there was no such thing as art. Then she gave up on me and asked someone else to ignore me. I felt frustrated that my opinion had been overlooked so quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While walking downtown today I came up with a fun game for 1 or more people. Look at a random stranger and imagine them cast in a movie. They only have one line that they say, and it has to be the funniest line they could possibly deliver. Imagine that line, and imagine them saying it. Then smile to yourself, or if you are so clever, perhaps even laugh softly, being careful not to laugh at the stranger. Some people are easier than others, but all of them can be fun. It's also a good challenge and can even be a competition when you play with your friends. It would be really cool to actually shoot 5 second movies with all the people saying their lines, if you could convince them to perform.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't like crossword puzzles. They make me feel like I don't know very much, which I'm sure isn't too far from the truth. But the truth can hurt. I also don't like the way that if everyone does their puzzle correctly they will all be exactly the same. It just seems so mindless, especially when words can be so exciting and creative. That's why I came up with a much more satisfying way to do crossword puzzles today. Basically write in whatever you want into the crossword to create some kind of message reading from left to right. Don't worry about reading it vertically. To make it a challenge, make every word fit the spaces perfectly. It could be a new form of poetry or something. I think my favorite part about this is that you could leave it in a public place where someone is likely to pick it up, and they might have a look at it, and then they would realize that it was all wrong, and then they would realize that it didn't matter because it was saying something else entirely, and then it might change their day. That would be exciting. I'd love to find a crossword poem lying around somewhere. I think I first got the idea when I only filled in one really stupid answer, correct nonetheless, in a crossword I found on a table at school and imagined someone else finding it and wondering if out of all the words that was the only one I could figure out. I thought it would be an amusing discovery. And then I thought of crossword poetry, and I think that's much more interesting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-6185977226503167074?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/6185977226503167074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=6185977226503167074' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/6185977226503167074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/6185977226503167074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/03/this-is-actually-my-post-for-wednesday.html' title='This is actually my post for wednesday...'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-4260541888839647320</id><published>2008-03-11T14:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-11T14:35:52.191-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Does This Look Like the Right House?</title><content type='html'>I knew that if I waited a bit I'd get something good to write about today. Sure enough I was right. Just minutes earlier the doorbell was ringing. I was making music in my studio so I had to go run and get it. I was wondering who would be calling at this time of day, late afternoon. If it was someone I knew they probably would have called first. I thought it might be the mail-person with my record, but it seemed too late in the day. I looked out the window before opening the door, just to see if it might be some religious person trying to convert me or someone selling some other idea that I don't want to invest myself in. All I could see was a purse, which didn't seem like it fit any of those people, so I went ahead and opened the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's this asian woman right outside with a big smile on her face. She says "Hello!" in an enthusiastic friendly voice. She makes a move to come in. I'm thinking 'what is going on?'. Am I supposed to be expecting this person that I have never before seen? Then I guess she held back for a second, I hadn't made any moves to welcome her in, and she may have been starting to notice that I was tall and white and very not-asian. "Is Muriel here?" she asks, her enthusiasm still surprisingly strong. "No" I say. Then she picks up her small paper note and reads it again, which she should have done before she rang my doorbell. She realized it was the house next door that she wanted and apologized and left. She had the wrong house. The funniest thing is that she actually made a move to come in, despite my appearance. Way funnier than a wrong phone number.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dreamed about dodgeball last night. At one point I was on a luxery cruise ship playing dodgeball. It was a massive game, probably at least 100 people. One side was coming down a huge staircase and the other team was in an arena that closely resembled the arena in Attack of the Clones. It was chaos, but it was also pretty sweet. I also played &lt;a href="http://www.manhunt-vancouver.com/"&gt;manhunt&lt;/a&gt; on the cruise ship which was really fun. Playing dodgeball in a gym later I made a succession of terrible shots. I couldn't believe how much I sucked. I was even worse than in real life. I also had a dream that I was with friends and we were all looking at velour sweaters. I find that very amusing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-4260541888839647320?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/4260541888839647320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=4260541888839647320' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/4260541888839647320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/4260541888839647320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/03/does-this-look-like-right-house.html' title='Does This Look Like the Right House?'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-9186072818831853579</id><published>2008-03-10T14:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T14:24:24.930-07:00</updated><title type='text'>VS and Brutal Anonymity</title><content type='html'>I was thinking about waiting until later to write my post for today because I don't really have anything very interesting to report. Then I remembered that I just like my posts to be interesting but my primary goal is to just write something down everyday. This is all I have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While joking with a friend about asking people who was more shallow between the two of us we somehow developed the idea to start a website, possibly a blog, in which we put our friends against each other head-to-head in polls deciding who is more something. For example, who is more intelligent, who is more polite, who is more fun. We could tell all of our friends to vote anonymously to reveal which friend is preferred in certain circumstances. It is really a harsh thing to do, but I don't think it would need to be malicious. Obviously people aren't all the same when it comes to abilities and personality traits. I feel like a bit of a jerk suggesting it, but it might be a fun thing to do. We'll see I guess. I wonder if people would be comfortable making such judgments even with the cover of internet anonymity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got the new smash brothers game yesterday, the day it came out. It is really good. I'm actually glad that I have so many other things that I need to/want to do because I can see myself wasting a large amount of time playing this game. I still haven't finished the new mario or metroid games yet either. My hours are building up but fortunately no one cares whether or not I actually finish the games. It will happen eventually but there's no rush. Smash Brothers is great though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been having problems recording vocals for my newest song because I am not a great singer and I can't figure out what to do to make it sound the best it can. I tried a new vocal style today so I'll have to see what people think when they hear it. I'm still not totally happy with it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-9186072818831853579?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/9186072818831853579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=9186072818831853579' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/9186072818831853579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/9186072818831853579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/03/vs-and-brutal-anonymity.html' title='VS and Brutal Anonymity'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-9164450311748606119</id><published>2008-03-09T16:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-09T16:37:42.594-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Inexplicable Nighttime Events</title><content type='html'>I still haven't gotten over this, and I'm not sure that I ever will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to bed early last night around 11:30 because I was running on only 3 hours of sleep from the night before and I had to wake up early for another day of shooting a film. I tried calling my friend to find out what the plan was because he was going to pick me up in the morning. I couldn't get through so I just texted him and told him to text me back as soon as he could with details. I figured I would wake up as soon as I got the message and then I could set my alarm appropriately. So I go to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my dream I started to think, "maybe I should check to see if I got that message yet". Then I'm not sure what happened. Dream and reality collided at some point but I can't figure out where to draw the line. I suddenly woke up with my eyes open. Then about 2 seconds later my phone went off and I checked it. It was the details for when I would be picked up. I set my alarm. I checked the clock and it was 2:30. I remember thinking how incredibly strange that I had woken up just moments before the message came through, especially since 2:30 is a pretty strange time to wake up like that for no reason. I go back to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my dream I tell some friends about how crazy it was that I woke up just before the phone went off. I'm basically repeating the above paragraph to everyone in my dream. I think in my dream I may have realized how coincidental it really was and maybe I had been dreaming the whole thing. I couldn't actually be sure anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I woke up I was thoroughly puzzled by the events. I wondered if it had actually happened. The thing is, my alarm was all set properly, and I only remember setting it once, right after I got the message, so I'm pretty sure that I didn't dream that. I checked the time that I had received the message at, and it was actually 1:30, not 2:30 like I had thought before. This caused me to question everything again. If it wasn't all very strange already, I learned early this morning that it was actually daylight savings time. So my 2:30 time was the correct time of the message, my phone just hadn't changed the clock yet. So what happened? Did I misread the clock when I woke up? I was very sure it was 2:30 until I checked the time on the message later. Did my phone's clock change times a couple times in the night? I doubt it. Did I dream 2:30? That would mean I accurately dreamed the time, even accounting for the daylight savings change that I was not even aware of at the time? Everything about the night seems very coincidental. I don't know. Bizarre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since anything more I write in this post for today will sound pretty normal and probably boring I'm just going to say that's it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-9164450311748606119?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/9164450311748606119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=9164450311748606119' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/9164450311748606119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/9164450311748606119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/03/inexplicable-nighttime-events.html' title='Inexplicable Nighttime Events'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-4267617312204685011</id><published>2008-03-08T19:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-08T19:33:40.813-08:00</updated><title type='text'>An Idea for a Mockumentary</title><content type='html'>I was thinking it would be called something like "My Afterlife as a Ghost and an Asshole". It would be the story of a ghost who is an asshole to people. The ghost would be able to guide the audience through the house and demonstrate all the nasty things it does to the residents. The camera would also be treated as a ghost in these parts, so all the living people would be completely unaware of what was going on but the ghost and camera would be there in secret. The people would only become aware of the movie when they were interviewed by the camera. I'm not sure where the movie would lead but I just like the idea of having most of the people completely unaware of one character messing with them just for the camera and the audience. Maybe it's a bad idea but now that it is written down here I won't forget it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I often worry about forgetting to flush the toilet when I am at other people's houses. It would be really embarrassing to leave something disgusting in someone else's bathroom, or in any bathroom for that matter. I'm not sure if I ever forget to flush the toilet but nonetheless I find myself double-checking sometimes just to be on the safe side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend Mitch started a blog this week that is about his dreams every night. It is really fun to read. I guess I wrote about parts of dreams in some posts before, but reading his blog makes me want to focus on my dreams more. It sounds like since he started he has been able to remember his dreams more clearly, which is sweet. I think I normally have really fun dreams. I haven't had a chance to recall my dreams for the past few days but I think I'd like to make more of an effort. I don't think I'll write exclusively about dreams, but I may try to include it as a daily part of my posts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-4267617312204685011?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/4267617312204685011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=4267617312204685011' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/4267617312204685011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/4267617312204685011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/03/idea-for-mockumentary.html' title='An Idea for a Mockumentary'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-9155204304436314775</id><published>2008-03-07T23:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-07T23:43:33.523-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Team Unicycle</title><content type='html'>I was taking the bus into school today. I was just crossing Kingsway heading into Joyce station when I noticed two unicyclers crossing the intersection. I figured that they were coming back from 7-11 across the street because they each had a slurpy and identical bags hanging from their sides which I assumed were candy. The first thing that struck me was their confidence unicycling across a busy street. They seemed to be chatting it up and their slurpies made the whole thing really casual. I was impressed, but thought they were a little foolish with their helmets not strapped on properly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hill on that street gets pretty steep after crossing Kingsway and I was wondering how they would deal with it. They already seemed so relaxed but I didn't think they'd be able to handle the steepness. They appeared to be going down fine at first. These kids couldn't have been more than 17 from what I could see. Here they are starting down this steep hill and all of a sudden one of them loses control. Their balance was thrown off momentarily. Through some fluky accident the guy starts to flail and somehow manages to fling his slurpy out into the street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't see too clearly from where the bus was waiting but I'm pretty sure the slurp hit a car that was waiting at the light. The driver had just half opened his door and was starting to get out when the light changed and cars started honking behind him. The one unicycler had recovered his balance by then and both of them looked like they were ready to run for it. The driver didn't have any choice so he had to take off with the rest of traffic and the unicylers started back up on their single wheels and continued along their way. At this point I was quite amused and looked around and the other passengers on the bus, wearing an obvious smirk. No one else seemed to have noticed though and I was really disappointed. I consider myself very fortunate to have witnessed such a fluky event but it is sad that more people weren't able to get in on the excitement. It was great.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-9155204304436314775?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/9155204304436314775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=9155204304436314775' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/9155204304436314775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/9155204304436314775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/03/team-unicycle.html' title='Team Unicycle'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-3770914642938969643</id><published>2008-03-06T23:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-06T23:24:23.221-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Having a Super Day</title><content type='html'>I'm super fried right now because I only had 3 and some hours of sleep the other night and I still need to write an essay proposal but I have to say I feel amazing. I know sleep deprivation is sometimes used as torture but I think it's only torture when you have bad company and you are locked in a cold prison cell. That hasn't been the case for me though. I feel so buzzed and really happy. I feel better than usual despite the lack of sleep. I think the only thing suffering is my problem solving skills. For one, I sucked at scrabble today. I'm not good at the game anyways, and I don't much like it, but I really had a tough time focusing on the words. Even now, sitting here and typing, I'm pretty sure I'm forgetting everything I was thinking of saying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Possibly one of the best surprises today, and there were several I guess, was checking my emails when I got home and being informed that I had won a record. Some blog on local music had a contest and all I had to do was send an email with the contest in the subject. So I did that, and I won it. Now I've got a 12" vinyl coming in the mail. And I can't think of anything cooler to get in the mail right now. Try to beat that. I have no idea who the band is, or what it will sound like, or what I will do with the record, but I am excited about it. The lesson here is always enter contests when you have nothing to lose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was also really surprised when I realized I only had one meal until 10 tonight, when I got home and ravaged the beans, sausages, and asparagus that were left-over. I think my lunch meal was placed perfectly in some sweet time slot so that I was not hungry for the largest amount of time possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I honestly can't really think anymore right now. That is all I can do for today. I can't wait for bedtime.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-3770914642938969643?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/3770914642938969643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=3770914642938969643' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/3770914642938969643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/3770914642938969643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/03/having-super-day.html' title='Having a Super Day'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-3825563507743888859</id><published>2008-03-05T16:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-05T17:11:30.191-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Everything is Tainted</title><content type='html'>I walked to the library this beautiful day to pick up a couple of cds that I had on reserve. The library is super close which was useful when I had about 15 cds on reserve at once one time and had to make several trips in a row because they only let me take five out at a time. I left around 12, which I guess is lunch time. The fastest route to the library cuts through an elementary school field and because of the time all the kids were out on break playing. I always feel kind of weird going through large groups of small children because I remember when I was that size we were always cautious of older people. I'm obviously not dressed in a trench coat or anything but I still feel like maybe I shouldn't be walking through the school area when all the kids are playing mostly unsupervised. I make an effort not to pay attention to the children and walk around the large groups.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made it to the library alright and picked up my cds. I got the new Stars album and an old White Stripes album, White Blood Cells. One of the dudes working at the library noticed and made a comment of approval about the White Stripes. I'm not really a fan of the White Stripes so I just nodded. Then I left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was walking back across the school field and now there were several soccer games going. I usually watch the kids play soccer while I'm walking by so that I don't get hit by the ball and also because it is sometimes entertaining. I make it through the first game without incident, witnessing an impressive goalie kick considering the size of the goalie. I'm getting closer to the second game and the action is looking like its going to intercept me on my path. I don't want to go around or wait so I just take my chance and go for it, maybe there will be a turnover or something. There isn't. I'm right in the middle of it when one of the kids makes a break for it and kicks the ball out front. He's running towards me and the ball is between us. I don't have time to get out of the way so I just dodge his kick at the last second. He kicked it pretty hard. I turn to watch the ball and right there maybe two metres behind me some small kid gets smoked in the face. The kid is down and almost immediately starts to cry. I know kids have a predisposition to cry, but to be fair it was a nasty hit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of the kids nearby stop playing and wander over to watch. I had stopped walking since the kick and I'm not sure if I should just leave. On the one hand I don't want to abandon someone in pain, but then its also not my responsibility and I don't want to be a creepy stranger talking to little school children. I'm trying to figure out what to do and then I notice that most of the kids are looking at me, like its my fault or something, or maybe they're waiting for me to do something. I started feeling pretty uncomfortable. I was about to say something but then I didn't and I left. I could hear the kid still sobbing lightly as I walked away but there was nothing I could do. I'm sure he was fine, but I still feel bad about it. What could I do? I guess if it was a real emergency I could have stepped in, but it wasn't. Everything is tainted.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-3825563507743888859?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/3825563507743888859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=3825563507743888859' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/3825563507743888859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/3825563507743888859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/03/everything-is-tainted.html' title='Everything is Tainted'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-271397489951947426</id><published>2008-03-04T18:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-04T18:51:45.572-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Music Store Showdown</title><content type='html'>I was at the music store. I went to look at bass amps but as usual I was browsing everything. There was some older dude with long black hair in a pony tail playing lounge-type guitar music. Those kind of guys always seem to be there, just playing and showing off and providing a good vibe for the store. Anyways, there were some kids there who must have been renting band equipment or something and they were watching the guy play. When he finished a song they clapped. I noticed a tattooed guy with a shaved head watching too. He didn't seem too impressed though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was over in the PA section of the store when I heard it start. The bald dude had plugged in a guitar and was starting to shred pretty hard and was drowning out ponytail's lounge garbage. I thought that was pretty sweet, though I'm not really a fan of shredding. Then I hear a second guitar start shredding. I look over and there's ponytail fighting back with some licks of his own. Apparently he was a master of several styles. Both of them are being reasonably loud and many of the other shoppers are wandering over to watch. I'm wondering if the employees are going to say anything but I notice a few of them standing to the side grinning and watching contentedly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The battle is getting pretty good, baldy and ponytail are kind of taking turns now trying to show each other up as soon as they get a chance. Then one employee comes marching in and I think he's going to shut them down. But he doesn't. He grabs a guitar too and plugs it in. Now there's three of them going at it. I think it was baldy that first turned up his volume to try to come out on top of the sonic battle field. The other two follow and the show is suddenly really loud. Some people watching start plugging their ears and moving away a bit. The employee is killing the other two. He's one of those heavy metal dudes that never made it and decided to sell guitars instead. In the field of shredding he is unmatched. The other guys can't be serious about shredding in the same way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baldy realizes he's being shown up and cranks up his amp a bit to compensate. Things are getting intense and ponytail can admit that he can't compete and he bows out, literally. The employee has to boost his amp now to keep up. He made the mistake of choosing a smaller amp, so he really has to max out to keep up with baldy's huge amp. So they're going for a few bars and baldy is choking bad. Suddenly there are some crackling noises. The employee's amp is sparking and starts to smoke. He notices pretty quickly and pops the power off. Baldy seems kind of sheepish now and turns off his amp too. Now there's just the employee guy there looking at his smoking amp. It seemed like a good time to wander over to another part of the store to look at something else. The show was over.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-271397489951947426?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/271397489951947426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=271397489951947426' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/271397489951947426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/271397489951947426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/03/music-store-showdown.html' title='Music Store Showdown'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-1373522165363094325</id><published>2008-03-03T14:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T14:29:38.619-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Dump</title><content type='html'>I went to the dump the other day. I was helping someone move a bunch of construction garbage from their backyard. So the dump is actually really gross. We drove into the big dumping room which is basically a warehouse with a pit at the centre where everyone piles their garbage. They actually tell you to stay 6 feet away from the edge and just drop your stuff right there. They have a small bulldozer type thing that pushes everything down into the pit afterwards. There is also a giant bulldozer that drives around in the pit and moves stuff and crushes it. The whole place smelled terrible and the ground was coated in muddy garbage scum. Imagine living in your garbage can, that is what it was like, although I got used to the smell after a while which was kind of scary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're pulling all these pieces of wood and stuff out of the car and throwing it down and we have a huge pile going. There was a glass window near the bottom of the pile in the back of the car and when we tried to pull it out it was already cracked. The whole thing just crashed to pieces when we tried to lift it. There were bits of glass everywhere. Fortunately many pieces of sharp broken glass are not a problem in that place. No one said anything so we just threw all the pieces out of the car and onto the ground, breaking them even more. It was a mess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we had some large flat sheets of wood at the bottom of the pile. They were really light. I was trying to throw them to the side because the pile we had right in front of us was starting to slide towards us. The sheets that I threw would almost glide for a few seconds when they were thrown and I was kind of worried that they might fly over the edge into the pit. Then that was exactly what happened. I threw a big sheet and the angle that I projected it at caused it to shoot up a bit and it drifted right down to the pit. It probably wouldn't have been a problem except for that the big bulldozer happened to be driving by right there at that moment. The sheet of wood hit the top of it. I was pretty nervous about it. One of the attendants came over quickly and told me to be more careful. I apologized and went back to emptying the car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was about everything that happened at the dump. Pretty uneventful now that I think about it. It would be a horrible place to work in my opinion.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-1373522165363094325?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/1373522165363094325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=1373522165363094325' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/1373522165363094325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/1373522165363094325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/03/dump.html' title='The Dump'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-8902194643217244321</id><published>2008-03-02T19:31:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-02T19:57:25.704-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Even Better Than the Movie</title><content type='html'>Last night I was walking to the video rental place. I was going through a forested path and then I suddenly saw a raccoon up ahead. I didn't want to walk right into it so I stopped and waited to see what it would do. I was far enough away that it didn't notice me. Then I noticed some dude off to the side that was offering the raccoon something. I thought it must have been food. The raccoon was getting pretty close to him and I was thinking how stupid this guy must be to be feeding the raccoon by hand. Then the dude just stood up super fast and kicked the raccoon as hard as he could. I couldn't believe it. The raccoon couldn't either. It took the kick fully in the underside but because the kick was so fast it didn't have too much power. That was the guy's mistake. The raccoon was kind of rolling back but it looked like one of its claws had managed to snag the guy's pant leg. It wouldn't let go. The guy was trying to shake it off but his efforts were pretty sloppy because I think by that point he realized that he was in a very bad situation and he was panicking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you've ever heard a raccoon fight before you will know that they sound really eerie. I was still locked in my place a distance away and all I could do was mutter profanity under my breath. The raccoon was still holding on with its one hand and the other 3 legs were scrabbling all over the guy's leg. The guy tried hitting the raccoon with his hand a few times which didn't really phase it and then it started trying to bite his hand when he brought it down so he quickly stopped that. The guy had been shouting and swearing since the animal had latched itself to him and he was still going. Time seemed to have slowed down for me watching the whole thing but it must have been only 6 seconds or so. The guy started spinning around in a circle as fast as he could which actually seemed to take some effect. Raccoons are heavy, so the centrifugal force from the spinning was kind of pulling the raccoon back a bit. It stopped trying to scratch the guy and just kind of held on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was the funniest thing to see. The guy is spinning around screaming his head off and the raccoon is just clinging to his leg trying not to fall off. This obviously couldn't last for very long. The dude started getting dizzy or something and stopped and started to stumble around a bit. The raccoon must have been a bit dizzy too because it didn't make a move right away. The guy reached for his belt buckle and had his pants down around his ankles in no time at all. The pants fell over the raccoon's head and it was temporarily tangled up in the confusion. Then it must have thought that it had had enough so it shot off of the guy's leg and ran bouncing into the trees on the other side of the guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here's this guy standing alone now with his pants down, panting, swearing and probably bleeding quite a bit too, (it was hard to see how badly in the dark). The dude pulls his pants back up and staggers around a few seconds before starting down the path away from me. I then realized that I was lucky that he didn't start walking in my direction. That would have been incredibly awkward to say the least. I was kind of hidden in the shadows but I'm not sure if I would have been able to leave without being noticed. I ended up back-tracking and going a different route just because I didn't want to risk seeing the guy again as I probably would have cracked up laughing. I still can't believe how stupid he was. He must have been drunk or something. It was such a crazy sight, even better than the movie I ended up renting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If there's any moral to this story it's don't fuck with raccoons.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-8902194643217244321?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/8902194643217244321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=8902194643217244321' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/8902194643217244321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/8902194643217244321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/03/even-better-than-movie.html' title='Even Better Than the Movie'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-5484733813798460679</id><published>2008-03-01T18:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-01T18:51:41.450-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mixing-Up the Format</title><content type='html'>I'm going to try something different today. I'm not sure what it is yet but I'm hoping that if I just keep on typing good things will happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Technology has transformed me into a very dependent and useless animal. Within the world of technology and consequently most of society I have some very useful skills but if technology were to suddenly give out and I had to live like people lived even half a century ago I would be in trouble. Obviously I'm relying on technology to not completely give out any time soon. Essentially all of my usefulness to the specialized job market is in computers, which I think is an important area to be knowledgeable in right now, but I can't help but feel like I'm throwing all my eggs into one basket. My knowledge in the basics of simple survival skills are probably not enough to keep me alive on my own in a difficult situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should I be concerned about retaining these older 'animal' skills or do they actually only carry a value prescribed by idealized ideas of human ability. It does seem sad to think that many humans have become part computer simply by the fact that they would not be able to live like they do without technology as it is. I can recognize this, but is my wariness of technology causing me to doubt my investments in skills? Would my life be better if I was confident that I could live in the wild on my own? I doubt it would hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I think about it rationally I think the skills that are most important to have are those that can provide me with the most happiness. I don't need to be self-sufficient in the wild to be happy, at least as long as I'm not trying to live in the wild. Even so, I think computers have taught me one skill that applies to everything and that is how to teach myself quickly and effectively with the tools I have been given. At least I hope this skill translates into other aspects of life. Maybe I'm in better shape here than I think. Humans can be surprisingly resilient. Writing everything out now actually makes me feel better about it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure if everything I wrote is completely cohesive or if I included every point that I should have. I could be making the necessary logical links in my head instead of having them occur in writing like they should. I am fired tired so I'm just warning it could be a rant. I had to write something. I should stop defending what I'm writing. I just going to stop writing this post now. This entire paragraph was unnecessary but I'll leave it so my thought process is visible.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-5484733813798460679?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/5484733813798460679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=5484733813798460679' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/5484733813798460679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/5484733813798460679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/03/mixing-up-format.html' title='Mixing-Up the Format'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-6332335267621144929</id><published>2008-02-29T10:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-29T10:46:44.575-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Congratulations to the Babies Born Today</title><content type='html'>They just messed up everything. Way to go babies. It's a leap year. That means we get an extra day this year. That's an extra 24 hours. It really should be a holiday or something. It should be called 'Yourday' and people are encouraged to do what they really want to do, as long as that doesn't involve some violent criminal activity. I think if I could do anything today it would be not to write the exam that I have to write later today. That would be an amazing day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had some messed up dreams last night. In one of them I was Mario of the Mario Brothers. I had to infiltrate some enemy base and find important artifacts while simultaneously destroy their surveillance system. The strangest part was probably collecting mushroom power-ups. They were all over the place and I would pick them up often. I was never sure exactly how to make them take effect though. In the game Mario always just bumps into the mushroom and gets powered-up on contact, but this doesn't make so much sense when translated into real life, or at least real life in a dream. They turned out to be inflated plastic/rubber like beach balls. I sometimes tried to eat them but as you can imagine eating that material was disgusting. Sometimes I just popped them and then they worked. It was fun for the most part but at the end I realized that the bad guys would be super pissed when they realized I totally messed up their base and they would probably come after me and attack me while I was at home or something, so I was a bit worried about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also had a dream that I wish I hadn't had. Do you ever get dreams that are just really real and they have a strong impact on you and when you wake up you're still feeling that impact and it changes the way you feel? I had one of those. I'm hoping it wears off quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What did the tree say to the sky?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm sorry that I'm pointing at you. I know it's rude but I'm kind of stuck like this."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In honour of the leap year today I'm going to not draw a picture. I hope that doesn't become a habit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The catch phrase of the day is "Polar Glow Field". I actually spent several minutes there trying to thinking of something. I think this phrase is appropriate for just about any context.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-6332335267621144929?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/6332335267621144929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=6332335267621144929' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/6332335267621144929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/6332335267621144929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/02/congratulations-to-babies-born-today.html' title='Congratulations to the Babies Born Today'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-1026728815889901829</id><published>2008-02-28T16:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T16:38:14.490-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Future of Ghosts</title><content type='html'>I decided a while ago that when I die I want to become a ghost. Today I realized that with technology getting more sophisticated, ghosts will most likely have learned how to use it to some degree. I think when I become a ghost I will haunt computers and probably the internet. I could change wikipedia articles and stuff and edit myself into history. I can't think of a better way to spend my ghost time. I could also play online poker and always win and have the monetary winnings sent to a friend or family member that was still alive. I'd be like an untracable hacker. I doubt virus software could stop me, though it would suck if I got stuck in a firewall or something for eternity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was thinking about it the other day, and if I had an animal as a roommate I think I'd go with an octopus. We would both have clearly marked territory, mine dry, the octopus's wet, though the bathroom might cause some conflict. I have read that octopi also like to play, and they express emotion through colours which could be helpful if the octopus didn't like my interior decorating style. I also enjoy seafood so we could share a lot of our food. An octopus would definitely be a great animal roommate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I had an exciting idea. Be warned it is also kind of cruel, but if you like animal fights you will like this. I think I'm going to buy a lobster and put it out on the docks and see if it can survive the seagulls for 15 minutes or so. I'd be very curious to see how the seagulls would approach it. I realized that they would probably just tear it apart so I'm now thinking it might be necessary to design some kind of lobster armour to give the lobster a fair chance. As soon as I figure out how to make this armour I think this event will probably happen. If the lobster makes it through alive I will cast it into the sea and hope that it has a good life there. If people have a problem with any of this idea keep in mind, lobsters are hunted in nature by predators too and were it not for my intervention, this particular lobster would definitely be cooked and eaten by a human. I'm giving this lobster a shot at freedom, just like the gladiators. It would be an event that no one should miss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There will be no picture today because I am not at home and don't have my tablet. I wasn't sure if I'd have time when I got home, so that's it for today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-1026728815889901829?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/1026728815889901829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=1026728815889901829' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/1026728815889901829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/1026728815889901829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/02/future-of-ghosts.html' title='The Future of Ghosts'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-604935088468462160</id><published>2008-02-27T14:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-27T14:52:44.916-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time</title><content type='html'>I had another interesting dream last night, but its logic did not carry over into reality so well this time. It was some kind of gift-giving time, similar to christmas but not christmas, and my brother had given me a pineapple that allowed me to float. I could only move at normal walking speed, but being able to sit down and just float around 6 feet in the air was really cool. I can't remember how I actually rode on the pineapple. I'm pretty sure it wasn't a pineapple when I was using it for floating. I also got to eat the inside of it because the outside was the only part that mattered for floating. My brother had one too and I was complaining to him that he had given me the smallest pineapple. He was getting offended by my suggesting he had intentionally given me a lesser pineapple. The pineapple tasted really good and I wanted more. If only pineapples were that amazing in real life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've developed a bit of a napping addiction. I feel like napping everyday. Napping is the best. I feel like napping right now. I napped too much yesterday and then I couldn't fall asleep which was bad because I had to wake up early today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt really good today. I had at least several minutes of being in a state very close to ecstasy. I had just left my biology class to go home. I think I rocked the midterm exam and that felt good. I had also had a coffee which made me feel good. I put on my ipod shuffle and was met first by Of Montreal which made me feel cheerful. Shortly after that The Arcade Fire came on and I just felt amazing. After that I think it was Islands that played and I became convinced that my ipod was reading me or something. I can't say enough good things about my shuffle. It's like my personal radio station without any commercials, annoying DJs, and all the music it plays is stuff that I know I like. Sometimes it gets on a roll with some really awesome tracks and it blows me away. It's like magic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got home I was starving. I made myself a four egg omelet with ground turkey, rice and corn, (leftovers from the night before). It was good. I'd recommend it. Rice omelets are usually pretty hearty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What did the rice say to the egg?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You've got so many options! Fantastic."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's picture is taken from the flying pineapple idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_s1Vnw1PG9IE/R8XpAqNcqqI/AAAAAAAAABE/z1Oq1tqiBNw/s1600-h/Picture8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_s1Vnw1PG9IE/R8XpAqNcqqI/AAAAAAAAABE/z1Oq1tqiBNw/s320/Picture8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171795944644848290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;That wasn't really how it worked in my dream, but I liked the image of someone riding on a flying pineapple.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-604935088468462160?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/604935088468462160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=604935088468462160' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/604935088468462160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/604935088468462160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/02/seemed-like-good-idea-at-time.html' title='Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_s1Vnw1PG9IE/R8XpAqNcqqI/AAAAAAAAABE/z1Oq1tqiBNw/s72-c/Picture8.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-3641610475184884664</id><published>2008-02-26T10:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-26T11:51:35.964-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Way to Reuse a Bad Book</title><content type='html'>I had a dream that I won a pack of books. I was looking over some of them with a friend and just judging from the cover of one, which featured a knight with a spear and stuff, I could tell that it was probably a poorly written medieval fantasy novel. My friend and I were discussing whether the book was still worth anything because it obviously had some kind of entertainment value even if it wasn't the greatest. Then I woke up and instantly considered highlighting only the words in the book that I wanted to have read. I could rewrite the entire book to be about something else entirely by picking out only the words that I wanted. Then I was wondering if anyone would be able to write a decent book in this way and how many of the original words actually be used and which books would be best to do this to. I thought it was a neat idea at the time and I'm surprised to say that I still do think it sounds cool. Sometimes ideas from dreams that seem so obviously amazing turn out to be complete garbage in the context of reality. I might just have to buy a cheap book and give it a try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've decided to discontinue my 'most painful thing of the day'. It is really just whining. And though I love to whine, I think it's a horrible thing to post here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What did the pencil say to the bird?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If only you had an opposable digit we could be friends."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MIDI is super exciting. There is so much that it can do that I had never considered before. I won't say any more because it would be boring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A picture a day is what I say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_s1Vnw1PG9IE/R8RtEKNcqpI/AAAAAAAAAA8/kv3FVPSNlAs/s1600-h/Picture7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_s1Vnw1PG9IE/R8RtEKNcqpI/AAAAAAAAAA8/kv3FVPSNlAs/s320/Picture7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171378190355835538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I once kicked a wasp nest to see what would happen. I was only stung once.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-3641610475184884664?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/3641610475184884664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=3641610475184884664' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/3641610475184884664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/3641610475184884664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/02/way-to-reuse-bad-book.html' title='A Way to Reuse a Bad Book'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_s1Vnw1PG9IE/R8RtEKNcqpI/AAAAAAAAAA8/kv3FVPSNlAs/s72-c/Picture7.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-6161791928110251620</id><published>2008-02-25T10:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-25T11:15:09.075-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Apples Vs. Oranges</title><content type='html'>Which is better? The apple or the orange? There isn't a straight up one or the other answer, as usual it entirely depends on the context. By itself, I would say the orange is superior. Oranges can be sweeter and have a beautiful texture. They are also juicy, something that most apples do not excel in. Now, oranges have several disadvantages. Being juicy makes them much messier to eat than an apple. One can eat an apple without getting sticky fingers, but it is exceedingly difficult to do so with an orange. Oranges also have a peel that generally needs to be removed. This slows down the process of consuming the orange and I know for myself I have gone with apples precisely because I didn't want to have to spend time peeling my fruit before eating it. Lastly, I would argue that oranges don't mix with nearly as many other foods as apples do. Apples can be baked into a pie for example, but I have never heard of an orange pie. In conclusion I would say oranges are the better fruit, but apples beat them simply by their universal accessibility and ease of use.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What did the paper say to the cloth?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wow, you can fold in every direction and you don't really get crease marks. That's awesome."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again that was not a joke. Yesterday's post will explain exactly what was going on there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I almost forgot about the picture for today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_s1Vnw1PG9IE/R8MTlKNcqoI/AAAAAAAAAA0/vHdO3kjWA38/s1600-h/Picture6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_s1Vnw1PG9IE/R8MTlKNcqoI/AAAAAAAAAA0/vHdO3kjWA38/s320/Picture6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170998326268308098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I managed to draw a figure and then I couldn't figure out what else to add, so I just went ahead with the titles. It is less interesting to look at but I think it still works. The writing also takes up lots of space which is helpful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-6161791928110251620?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/6161791928110251620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=6161791928110251620' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/6161791928110251620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/6161791928110251620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/02/apples-vs-oranges.html' title='Apples Vs. Oranges'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_s1Vnw1PG9IE/R8MTlKNcqoI/AAAAAAAAAA0/vHdO3kjWA38/s72-c/Picture6.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-7615248992753970879</id><published>2008-02-24T21:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-24T22:19:28.574-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Is it Wrong to Talk About Bathroom Stuff?</title><content type='html'>I had lunch with some friends today and the topic of poop came up several times in conversation, often by my contributed statements I'm afraid. When lunch was over and we all went our separate ways I realized that I was somewhat embarrassed to have encouraged such a topic of discussion. To be fair, I think I was serious about what I was saying, not just making disgusting poop jokes. But it still seemed inappropriate. I would not be the first person to tell you that I am immature in many ways. I think poop is often very funny. I need to grow up. I wonder though if there is an appropriate context in which several people can discuss poop without it being gross or crude, and not just among doctors or other scientific folk that may work with poop itself. I think there should be. I think there should be safe ground for any topic of discussion and I don't feel like poop, or urine, really has an accepted place in any conversation at this point. Am I right or am I just being immature some more?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm happy to say I did not experience anything too painful today. In fact, I had almost no pain. About as little pain as one can get through an average day with I would say. It's almost not worth reporting. I will refrain in the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized some exciting stuff that I might be able to do with MIDI today to make my music playing setup even better. Skipping all the technical how to stuff, basically I hope to make my drum machine play my keyboard. I'll be able to have two automated instruments that way, leaving me free to play guitar, sing, and occasionally push any other buttons that might be available. I just need to get the proper cable sometime this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What did the anchor say to the ocean floor?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's nice to finally sit down. I've been hanging all day."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That wasn't a joke, so don't think I have a terrible sense of humour. I just suddenly thought of the question in the form of a joke and decided to write it down quickly, without any idea of what a punchline would be. Then I decided to answer it not in a funny way, but in a realistic way, (realistic if you accept talking anchors and ocean floors). It was an interesting exercise. I think I may try it again tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is all for today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-7615248992753970879?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/7615248992753970879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=7615248992753970879' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/7615248992753970879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/7615248992753970879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/02/is-it-wrong-to-talk-about-bathroom.html' title='Is it Wrong to Talk About Bathroom Stuff?'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-5887586530354511100</id><published>2008-02-23T20:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T22:35:27.723-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Are Humans Meant to Work?</title><content type='html'>I've been meaning to bring this up but I forgot the last few days when I got to writing. I was working the other day, and I haven't actually 'worked' in a while. I started to feel pretty good. The work wasn't especially fun, and it was manual labour, but I felt like I was doing something good. That got me thinking about whether humans naturally enjoy being productive or whether it is something we have learned from a production based society. Our primary value to society as individuals is our productivity, so it makes sense that we have been taught that work should be rewarding. But if we weren't raised under such a system would we still think so? It's hard to say by looking at other species. So many insects are crazy hard workers, and its all they do, but they are also arguably the least intelligent creatures. If we look at larger mammals they basically sit around and eat when they need to. I would have a hard time thinking of any larger mammal that I would call 'productive'. Perhaps we just value productivity because it is necessary for our survival, but it is interesting that we can derive such satisfaction from wearing ourselves out working.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://radio3.cbc.ca/"&gt;New music canada&lt;/a&gt; is such a great site. I could go on describing how much it has to offer, but I would just recommend checking it out. It is great for music makers and music listeners alike.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think I'm going to do a picture today. It's getting late and I just want to get this stuff posted. Maybe I'll do pictures on weekdays only, or only 5 per week or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chopping wood is incredibly satisfying. I doubt I would want to do it all the time, but it is enjoyable at first to be sure. It would probably be great exercise to do it all the time though. I might give it a shot if I had enough wood to chop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to eat a lot of pizza tomorrow. I feel bad eating more than I need to, but I'm sure there are worse things I could do with food, like not eating it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Edit: Oops, I just realized I said I was going to try noting my most painful experience each day and I haven't been doing that. Today I accidentally smashed a large piece of wood into my foot while trying to get it off of my axe. That hurt but not too much. I guess I was lucky today. Yesterday it was probably getting kind of squished in a mosh pit, but that was mostly annoying. Getting other people's sweat all over me was much worse I think.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-5887586530354511100?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/5887586530354511100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=5887586530354511100' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/5887586530354511100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/5887586530354511100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/02/are-humans-meant-to-work.html' title='Are Humans Meant to Work?'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-4608980124995748228</id><published>2008-02-22T13:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-22T13:27:41.280-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday is Just a Name</title><content type='html'>When everyday is the same, friday doesn't mean anything. I love time-off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also love to see people smile. My favorite kind of smile to see is when people smile to themselves. Their just walking down the street and then for no apparent reason they crack a big grin. I almost always have to smile myself when I witness these. The funnest part is just imagining what it could have been that caused them to spontaneously express such happiness. Maybe the saw something funny just now. Or maybe they recalled some funny anecdote. Or maybe they just suddenly realized how awesome it is to be alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if all of a sudden everyone in the world forgot who you were? They knew nothing about you. If we ignore the important legal documents and photographic evidence that no doubt exists for the time being what would that be like? You would know so many people but they wouldn't even recognize you as an acquaintance. I'm not sure if it would be a horrible thing or a very interesting experience.  I think the neatest thing would be interacting with the people that you are closest to from an outsider's perspective. How difficult would it be to re-establish the connections you previously shared with these people? It would be interesting because it seems many relationships are maintained simply out of habit and if you tried to restart them from scratch years after they were first formed they may never happen. I'm sure there has to be a movie about exactly all this, so I'm going to stop talking about it now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The drawing of the day involves death again, but in a funny way, I hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_s1Vnw1PG9IE/R789wKNcqnI/AAAAAAAAAAs/-pmiSSuXEDw/s1600-h/Picture5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_s1Vnw1PG9IE/R789wKNcqnI/AAAAAAAAAAs/-pmiSSuXEDw/s320/Picture5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169918794828393074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-4608980124995748228?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/4608980124995748228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=4608980124995748228' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/4608980124995748228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/4608980124995748228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/02/friday-is-just-name.html' title='Friday is Just a Name'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_s1Vnw1PG9IE/R789wKNcqnI/AAAAAAAAAAs/-pmiSSuXEDw/s72-c/Picture5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-4439164848604326920</id><published>2008-02-21T20:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-21T20:26:30.087-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This is the first time I titled the post after writing it! It is also becoming a ridiculously long title! This will not happen again anytime soon!</title><content type='html'>Today I accidentally pinched my hand while lifting two really heavy tiles. I got a sweet blood blister. There is a bubble of blood below the skin in my hand now. It's kind of gross but also kind of cool. This makes me think of perhaps posting the most painful thing that happened to me all day each day. I'll give it a try starting tomorrow, for today's pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also made the decision to buy more guitars today. Two more to be exact. I'm pretty excited about it. I'm not sure if I need them, but they will definitely be fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In geek news, apparently there will be a live-action star wars tv show starting next year. I don't really watch tv anymore, and I realize that this is just a play to make EVEN MORE money from the star wars franchise, but I want to see this. It could be really cool. Star wars is difficult to make uncool in my star wars-loving opinion. I guess we'll see if George Lucas can recover any of his cred*.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the drawing of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_s1Vnw1PG9IE/R75NuaNcqmI/AAAAAAAAAAk/gZZxCraITw4/s1600-h/Picture4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_s1Vnw1PG9IE/R75NuaNcqmI/AAAAAAAAAAk/gZZxCraITw4/s320/Picture4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169654881972955746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It's darker than the others. Themes of death and crying suggest a pessimistic mood, but I am actually just tired. I feel pretty good otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think tomorrow is the last day that I said I would do drawings but I think I may try to keep it up. It's fun. It also takes attention away from lack of other significant content.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I'm pretty sure 'cred' is slang for credentials.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-4439164848604326920?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/4439164848604326920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=4439164848604326920' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/4439164848604326920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/4439164848604326920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/02/this-is-first-time-i-titled-post-after.html' title='This is the first time I titled the post after writing it! It is also becoming a ridiculously long title! This will not happen again anytime soon!'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_s1Vnw1PG9IE/R75NuaNcqmI/AAAAAAAAAAk/gZZxCraITw4/s72-c/Picture4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-2978814643967856970</id><published>2008-02-20T11:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-20T11:29:30.898-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Most Boring Blog of All Time</title><content type='html'>I really hope it's not this one. I realized yesterday that my post was on the pointless/stupid side. I'm still trying to figure out what I want to talk about. I thought maybe it would be good if I read a news article and then discussed my feelings on it here. I read some news articles but I don't really have anything to say that would add to them. Might as well just read the full article instead of listening to some other person water-it-down with their take on the topic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have anything to worry about right now because no one is reading any of this. Yet. I was hoping to find some direction before telling people about it, but now I'm thinking it may be necessary to get a test readership to let me know what works and what doesn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it a coincidence that bronchial and broccoli turn up similar image search results? Maybe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the newest picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_s1Vnw1PG9IE/R7x-bKNcqlI/AAAAAAAAAAc/a7Hoc1cJiZU/s1600-h/Picture3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_s1Vnw1PG9IE/R7x-bKNcqlI/AAAAAAAAAAc/a7Hoc1cJiZU/s320/Picture3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169145477376813650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'm listening to Blonde Redhead. Their older stuff reminds me of a cross between Sonic Youth and Deerhoof. Their new stuff is really awesome though. I like all their stuff, but the new stuff is so good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of all naturally occurring things, I would say time is perhaps the cruelest. If I could live without time, I might be very tempted to do so.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-2978814643967856970?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/2978814643967856970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=2978814643967856970' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/2978814643967856970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/2978814643967856970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/02/most-boring-blog-of-all-time.html' title='The Most Boring Blog of All Time'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_s1Vnw1PG9IE/R7x-bKNcqlI/AAAAAAAAAAc/a7Hoc1cJiZU/s72-c/Picture3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-6592519231016700391</id><published>2008-02-19T20:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-19T20:46:13.088-08:00</updated><title type='text'>An Example of Irrational Thought</title><content type='html'>I brought up this issue with a friend the other day. When I am hungry, and I mean really hungry, I can't imagine having enough food to eat so that I could possibly be full again. I guess I know somewhere in my mind that I will have enough at some point because otherwise I would start panicking about never being able to be full again, but from the top of my head I am so sure that I could eat forever. However, when I do get the chance to eat as much as I can, I can get extremely full. So full in fact that I promise myself that I will never be able to eat again. This is such complete nonsense, but it is exactly how I feel when I'm super full. It's not like I am experiencing strong hunger and uncomfortable fullness for the first time. This can happen every week. If I actually think about it when I am at these extremes I realize that I will eat again and be full again at a later date, but there is also some acceptance of the ultimatums. I marvel that I could be so irrational, even while at the same time realizing the irrationality. I think I'm really going to try to break that way of thinking the next time I get very hungry or full. That would be a fun exercise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, here is today's picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_s1Vnw1PG9IE/R7uu0aNcqkI/AAAAAAAAAAU/4FpCRuwy37E/s1600-h/Picture2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_s1Vnw1PG9IE/R7uu0aNcqkI/AAAAAAAAAAU/4FpCRuwy37E/s320/Picture2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168917212749933122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This one makes more sense than yesterday's I think, even though it really doesn't make any sense at all. If you are confused, yes, it is a flying manta ray.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately I have had a craving for drinking something really good. I have had some really good things to drink in the past few days, but it usually isn't enough. I love drinking tasty things, maybe even more than eating tasty things. Maybe I'm saying that because I just finished dinner and haven't had anything to drink yet...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, that is definitely the real issue.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-6592519231016700391?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/6592519231016700391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=6592519231016700391' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/6592519231016700391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/6592519231016700391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/02/example-of-irrational-thought.html' title='An Example of Irrational Thought'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_s1Vnw1PG9IE/R7uu0aNcqkI/AAAAAAAAAAU/4FpCRuwy37E/s72-c/Picture2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-7123233111264048805</id><published>2008-02-18T10:18:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-18T10:56:59.836-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Something Extra this Week</title><content type='html'>This is post #7 if I'm not mistaken. I guess I started on a tuesday, but I'm going to say that this is week two for all official purposes. Given that I have no real commitments for the week I am going to draw a picture for the next five days each day and put it here. They won't be great pictures, but maybe they will be more exciting than just text. Small children will finally have something to relate to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just finished the picture so here it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_s1Vnw1PG9IE/R7nRO6NcqjI/AAAAAAAAAAM/SOLCU_IEVVE/s1600-h/Untitled-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_s1Vnw1PG9IE/R7nRO6NcqjI/AAAAAAAAAAM/SOLCU_IEVVE/s320/Untitled-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168392101458389554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I wasn't sure what I was doing until I finished. Now I think I know what it is, but I can't figure out how to explain it. Maybe you can figure it out, but don't think that there is anything to figure out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may try to continue the story in tomorrow's picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I only had 10 minutes of oxygen left I would spend the time trying to break my personal record for holding my breath. Now that I mention it, I don't even know how long I can hold my breath for. I will try it now.&lt;br /&gt;I made it to a minute and a half. If I was surrounded by poisonous gases I could probably go for another 30 seconds. Just out of necessity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-7123233111264048805?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/7123233111264048805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=7123233111264048805' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/7123233111264048805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/7123233111264048805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/02/something-extra-this-week.html' title='Something Extra this Week'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_s1Vnw1PG9IE/R7nRO6NcqjI/AAAAAAAAAAM/SOLCU_IEVVE/s72-c/Untitled-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-4028673784902178776</id><published>2008-02-17T13:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-17T14:15:00.444-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Enjoying into Enduring</title><content type='html'>I'm not proud of it, but I ended up playing video games for about 5 hours last night with friends. Thinking about that right now made me wonder how long I would actually want to play video games for. I think I was starting to get to that point last night around 1, but I was really tired. I wonder what activity I could do for the longest before I wanted to stop. It couldn't be anything really physical obviously because that would introduce muscular fatigue into the equation which would speed things up considerably. Sleeping seems like the obvious choice, but I think after I wasn't tired anymore sleeping could become really boring. How long could I do anything before I wanted to do something else. I guess that's the other question. 12 hours? 24 hours? I may have to make a list of my top favorite things to do and actually see how long I could do them for. I think I usually try to push for this anyways, but since the activities usually involve other people things end sooner because they want to do something else. I think it would be a neat experiment, plus I could do my favorite things for as long as I wanted to. That would be great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I could eat anything today I would eat all the items on a menu from a really nice restaurant. I think over the course of the day I could manage it. Especially since really nice restaurants usually don't have enormous servings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I could throw anything at anything else today I would throw a sack of tomato sauce at a large exterior white wall of some modern house. I don't want to waste food or vandalize anything, I just think it would look good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I could stand on anything today I would stand on one of the pyramids, the less nice of the two so that I could look over at the nicer one. I would only want to stand there for a short while though. There would be no shade and I imagine it would get really hot. I would build a slide to get back down again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of Montreal is happy music.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-4028673784902178776?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/4028673784902178776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=4028673784902178776' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/4028673784902178776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/4028673784902178776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/02/enjoying-into-enduring.html' title='Enjoying into Enduring'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-6145221509829727739</id><published>2008-02-16T17:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-16T17:48:27.443-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Want and Need</title><content type='html'>I have decided just this second that all want could be justified as need. I think most people define need as something required to stay alive, or something like that, I don't think people actually think about what it means too much. But that need is based on the fact that you want to live, so by that logic, nothing is actually a need. That's depressing though, so why not just consider everything you want to be a need. If you really want it then not having it could bother you psychologically or emotionally and I would definitely argue that psychological and emotional health is an important need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In conclusion, a determined want becomes a need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I could do anything today I would spend it trying to figure out what I want to do tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That definitely sounds like I'm not trying hard enough. Here's a more exciting answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I could do anything today I would make the largest single stone pile of all time. I would organize it so that people from all over the world would bring by their best stones for piling so I would have an amazing selection to choose from. I don't know what the record is but I'm sure with this strategy I could break the record. I would probably get some engineers to advise me too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm looking out the window and the sky is pink, orange, purple and blue. It would be really neat if somedays the sky looked like that for the whole day instead of just when the sun was setting. I wonder how it would affect people's moods. Sun generally makes people happy, and clouds usually not so happy, but an all day sunset of exquisite colours? That is the most amazing thing that I can imagine right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-6145221509829727739?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/6145221509829727739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=6145221509829727739' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/6145221509829727739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/6145221509829727739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/02/get-out-while-it.html' title='Want and Need'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-3421254087019021038</id><published>2008-02-15T09:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-15T09:45:02.876-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Expensive Drinks</title><content type='html'>Last night I bought the most expensive drink I ever bought. Even without the tip it was more than $10. It was a good drink, it was a Martha Stewart's Living, but it was not worth more than $5 in my opinion. It was valentine's day and I thought I should get a fruity martini instead of a burger. Valentine's day is perhaps my least favorite day on the calendar. I blame it on never having a date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a crazy dream last night. My friends from last night were there. The dream involved finding mass quantities of cocaine in bushes downtown, working under-cover for the police, living on a small tropical island, accidentally blowing up a police float plane by pushing the wrong button on a digital camera, and trying to escape the country after that on a police boat before anyone figured anything out. That was fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I could do anything today I would eat breakfast in New York, lunch in Paris, and dinner in Barcelona. Just thinking about those cities is making me hungry. Between meals I would wander the streets, possibly looking for the next restaurant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ratatat is really good. I would put them in my top 5 life soundtrack bands for sure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-3421254087019021038?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/3421254087019021038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=3421254087019021038' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/3421254087019021038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/3421254087019021038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/02/expensive-drinks.html' title='Expensive Drinks'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-8703041120183530817</id><published>2008-02-14T10:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T10:35:52.318-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Recurring Dreams</title><content type='html'>For the past few weeks maybe I have been having two different recurring dreams, almost every night it seems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first one I'm actually not sure if it is a dream. All I know is that I wake up and feel like I have dreamed that I had a meaningful conversation with my cat. I can never remember the actual dream, nor can I remember what it was that we discussed. I could be imagining the whole thing, but it's definitely back there in my subconscious somewhere. I wish I knew what we were talking about. It could be important stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other recurring dream is just me hanging out with my friends. The locations are always different but nothing ever happens. We usually just hang out and talk, completely ordinary stuff. It's like an extension of real life. I'm not sure how I feel about these dreams. On the one hand, I enjoy hanging out with my friends. On the other hand, I'm not actually hanging out with my friends, just ideas of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've never had such consistently recurring dreams before, it's kind of strange. I'd like to see what happens with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I could do anything today I would go to a pen factory and tape all the pens together so that they were just a block of pens with all the points on one end. Then I would get a giant writing surface and get people to help me push the pen block around to create the largest drawing of all time. I would make sure that all the pens were different colours from adjacent pens to make the drawing more interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just finished listening to 'Cowbell' by 'Tapes 'n Tapes'. It is a good song. I wouldn't mention it otherwise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-8703041120183530817?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/8703041120183530817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=8703041120183530817' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/8703041120183530817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/8703041120183530817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/02/recurring-dreams.html' title='Recurring Dreams'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-2836382462693269987</id><published>2008-02-13T13:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-13T13:45:26.762-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Today I Woke Up</title><content type='html'>A quarter to seven to be exact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I could do anything today I would transform into a seal and catch a warm current and ride it all the way to wherever it was going. I think that would be good. And there would be no sharks or whales or other predators. Only the current and I and probably some other seals, and small fish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At nightfall I would crawl up onto a sandy beach somewhere and lie in the warm sand and listen to the waves and watch the stars move across the sky. At dawn I would fall asleep and then wake up as myself again, in my own bed, completely refreshed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like this song. &lt;a href="http://www.daytrotter.com/file_download/998"&gt;A Pirate's Anthem&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-2836382462693269987?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/2836382462693269987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=2836382462693269987' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/2836382462693269987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/2836382462693269987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/02/today-i-woke-up.html' title='Today I Woke Up'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685968883139757715.post-3535051827422228970</id><published>2008-02-12T17:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-12T17:48:07.644-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Challenge</title><content type='html'>I'm laying down the challenge for myself. Maintain a blog for a year, with a post every day whenever possible. I don't write much, but I enjoy it, so I think this is a good chance for me to save my ideas somewhere so I can go back and look at them after I forget them. What exactly will I post about? That is yet to be determined. Will anybody else want to read what I post? Also yet to be determined.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel I need to be more productive and ambitious, so this is a step towards that I suppose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's something I need to share. If I had teleportation powers I figured out how I would use them for the most fun. I would teleport thousands of feet into the air and then free fall until I was close to the ground and then I would teleport to the ground, completely negating the velocity of the fall. It would be great. I could do it as many times as I wanted too. Unfortunately, I don't have teleportation powers at this time. Maybe later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus concludes post #1.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685968883139757715-3535051827422228970?l=gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/feeds/3535051827422228970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685968883139757715&amp;postID=3535051827422228970' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/3535051827422228970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685968883139757715/posts/default/3535051827422228970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabrielkoenig.blogspot.com/2008/02/challenge.html' title='The Challenge'/><author><name>Gabriel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03436377150408933576</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
