Note: Never do this
Going down the rabbit hole of WikiHow’s ‘Random Article‘ button can be a productive experience. You can pick up some desert island skills. You can also learn some things that will make other people stare at you blankly. Whatever I’m practically on the spectrum anyway you assholes. Here’s some recent highlights.
How to Make Jolly Ranchers
Fuck you I like em
How to “Say No” to Teenage Sex
I didn’t find this one useful
How to Look like a Princess
…Maybe if I had gotten this one first though.
How to Treat a Wound Created by an Impaled Object
So a guy walks into a bar and says, Any teenaged princesses want some jolly ranchers? You’ll never BELIEVE what happened next.
How to Avoid Being Served Court Papers or Notices
The saga continues.
How to Make an Ocean Diorama for Earth Day
OK this one doesn’t quite fit into the theme but is still a handy thing to know
How to Attract Birds
How to Identify a Gifted Child
more free minions
How to Tell Your Parents You Want to Act
Also applies to ‘Dance’
How to Forgive a Cheating Husband
see ‘stab wound,’ above
And finally the most essential skill of all
How to Tell the Difference between Essential Oil and Infused Oil
I dared my friend Alex “Prozac” Cohen to write an HP Lovecraft Fan Fiction story in 20 minutes and the son of a bitch did it.
The Aberration on Holly Street
A lifetime of various trials, failures and fortuitous relationships settled me into a uniquely engrossing and well-suited career option four years ago; in my discussions with friends and family I describe myself as a chronicler of the human condition. In truth I report and summarize incidents for an insurance broker. It is an occupation that has presented to me the frail and mercurial human condition in all its forms. In these last four years I have written on incidents that would surely disturb the minds of many. However, as an uninvolved party, I have taken careful consideration to avoid allowing these events to affect my own mind, and more importantly the work itself. As such I have grown numb to many of the horrors mankind inflicts upon itself, which I’m sure you can imagine on your own.
However, my most recent casefile has cast my put-on bravado into doubt. No longer do I carry the self-assurance of one whose only role it is to record these incidents factually and without bias. No longer do I believe that the darkness within the human spirit, which I have studiously logged, is entirely the fault of our baser instincts. Following the incident at 172 Holly Street, I will freely admit, and proclaim to the world, that there is a force pressing down upon us that drives us to these actions and that we will never fully understand. My colleagues have pleaded with me to avoid interjecting my own belief into these reports. I cast those concerns aside. I will never file another report and indeed wish to avoid all human contact for as long as my days remain. I would pray that not many days remain, and perhaps this can be attributed to the fever that has struck me upon learning more about this last incident, but I no longer am sure who might be listening to our prayers.
Perhaps this seems dramatic. There was a time not long ago I would have laughed at such assertions as well. But once you have come to learn of Adam Stevens and his role in the 172 Holly Street fire, the great hero Adam Stevens, perhaps you will come to feel as I have.
The first thing I noticed, after coming upon the scene at the dreaded address, were the balloons. Deflated, singed, and ever-present, they covered the yard with a grotesque, overwhelming smell of burnt plastic. I had often logged the aftermath of arson and each time the smell was similar – charred wood and stripped paint. However, it was evident that the comically large amount of balloons strewn across the lawn had taken the place of this familiar scent. A birthday party, luxuriously decorated and overstated to a lunatic degree, had placed them everywhere across the house. All colors and shapes, strewn across every part of the decadent front lawn, must have created a wondrous site and guaranteed a festive atmosphere. I would come to learn that they also overwhelmed the house. It is possible, and I could have discovered more if I had the stomach, that the decorations had played some part in the rapid spread of the blaze.
It is worth sharing now that the mortality rate in this incident, given all that was at risk, was low; ultimately, only Steven Adams and one child, William Abner, remain unaccounted for. The celebration was apparently attended by over 60 people, the young friends of William (who house and birthday it was) and their parents. Much of the evidence and information-gathering I presented in this report come from their accounts, gathered slowly and painstakingly after the incident, in which many remained and watched the framework of the home slowly disintegrate.
None could account for the start of the fire, or how they knew to exit the house. Too, none could recall seeing Steven Adams at or near the ruinous party beforehand. He was no neighbor, either – other evidence has confirmed he lived in a nearby town in no convenient proximity.
And yet all accounts of his heroism point to some sort of advanced knowledge of the event. The consensus viewpoint, from many of the adults present, is that while they gathered and waited outside the house for emergency services, Steven Adams bolted through the crowd and with no hesitation whatsoever sprinted directly into the burning house. It has been said even that he pushed a small child facedown into the lawn, in his haste to enter the building. Who was this man, I was asked by each of the witnesses. Indeed he was a mystery to them, and in particular Mr. and Mrs. Abner who evidently left their child behind in the house. Later evidence indicates he was relatively plain, possessing a frame that seemed almost sickly in its thin and unbalanced nature, paired with a far above average height. Multiple times, it was noted to me that he was not a graceful runner. Given the circumstances, which could favorably be describe as panic-inducing, his lankiness and urgency crated a noticeably odd running gait. As well, his cavalier treatment of the child in his path, whom he had little trouble brushing aside, was not described as a natural motion. If not for his obviously heroic intentions, it could have appeared intentional and distressing, bore the account of one witness.
Regardless, Steven Adams had little trouble making his way into the building, which of course is where reliable witness ends. However, there are certain facts that we can confirm from this point forward, and while not public knowledge, they are each more disturbing than the last.
The first great evil that I came upon is that after easily opening the front door of 172 Holly street, Steven Adams appears to have bolted the door behind in, preventing the intrusion of any other parties and potentially even his own escape. His motivations at this point are not clear but given that the door was found still bolted upon examination of the wreckage, his responsibility is certain.
The second item that confused me, and indeed would confuse anyone, relates to the unfortunate Mr. William Abner, very newly aged 12. His remains were found up the staircase that originated from the front entryway, and he had evidently either become wedged and partially trapped, his leg pinned down by a small piece of the ceiling. His placement upon the staircase was without question visible from the front entryway and now, unconscionably, I am forced to believe that Steven Adams could not have failed to notice the young gentlemen. And yet, his path through the house continued along the first floor, ignoring the child in dire need of an adult’s strength to escape his trappings and subsequently the blazing structure.
Evidence exhumed from the home’s remains has painted a clearer path of Steven Adams path – through the first floor, through a small kitchen door and down into the home’s basement. A direct path, speaking to an advance knowledge of the house or some critical need to enter the basement. From whence the flames originated? It is difficult to confirm, but an open possibility.
Who was this man, who had such knowledge of the house and such disregard for the well-being of small children? The papers and official reports count him as a good Samaritan, but at this point I could not say. I know that no report speaks of what else was found in the basement, or if it does the records have been changed. I know I hesitate greatly in scribing it even here. The answer is simple, to the extent that I must be considered mad for even elaborating upon them, but the charred remains of a humanoid statue were the only notable findings in that darkened underground dwelling. A dark, melted mass that has pooled into the earthen floor of the basement. It is impossible to say what it once resembled, but certainly nothing human, despite its relatively large standing – over five feet tall in its original form, although melted down it had taken on an elongated facsimile of a man. Stretched, melted into an obscene mockery of the human form that mirrored Steven Adams own reflection of a typical human shape. Still hot to the touch, when investigated, and seemingly still in motion, when looked at through the very edges of my vision.
It was not, of course, Mr. Adams himself. He too was found in the basement, burnt as any man in his position would be. Curled over, and in fact kneeling before the icon itself, they suffered their fate together, and all while young William Adler took his last breath.
I have been told that I am reading too much into things. That the stress of my position has led to misinterpretations. And yet I am convinced that my reading of the day’s events is, if uninformed, not wholly inaccurate. It is my wholehearted belief that the statue in the Holly house basement in some way caused the rapid blaze with the express intent to stomp out the joyous celebration taking place above it. How, I do not know. And how it was ultimately foiled, I cannot say. But when it became clear that no great act of mayhem was to take place, Steven Adams was called somehow and made of himself an additional sacrifice.
Theory alone – but as a God-fearing man the existence of such an entity has instilled in me a sense of dread and curiosity that cannot be sated. I submit this report now standing outside the home of Steven Adams and well-equipped to make illegal entry. I do so now at the risk of myself, this is I understand and commit to! But I do as a man who must know more about the forces that compel us. That draw us in and make games of our mortal lives. I have questioned, in my preparation for this home invasion, whether I am being summoned myself, but I can pay that no mind. I must know more. And so I conclude these writings, admitting fully to all guilt, and hope to return shortly to update my findings, no matter what horrors I may stumble upon in the dead man’s home.
yeah, I think it can die
So can we all
I’m pretty sure we will
I plan on not
I’m hoping the singularity will come before I die
I need to upload my consciousness Rei, the world needs me
hey that’s my goal too
but also only if my actual conciousness can be uploaded, not just a clone of it. I want it to actually be me. Not a copy and the original me dies
so they need to work that out first
I think that’s semantic
the only difference there is that you Get killed vs die naturally
yes and no
like, I want THIS ME to continue
*I* want to continue
Yeah but if it’s a perfect copy?
that’s nice for the copy but this is about selfish survival instinct
a copy is basically progeny
I want literal immortality – not immortality through offspring
Let’s put it this way, if you had 1 year to live and you could copy yourself now but you would transfer to the net, your body would collapse and die. Vs You can copy yourself and your body can keep going for another year ?
No that’s the thing i don’t care about my body
if I could upload my mind right now
I would do it but I want it to be the *me* that I am
not a copy of me with my memories
not a duplicate
A perfect copy wouldn’t be progeny, that would just be a copy. You’re not creating ‘something’ with your traits you’re copying ALL your traits, progeny by nature is not a perfect copy
do you get what I mean?
I want THIS self to survive
you know in The Sixth Day
I think a perfect copy would read to you as ‘this’ self
you’re arnold shwarzenegger? Or Johnny cab?
and the clone THINKS he is the original, he has all the same thoughts and memories and impulses
Well yeah, but that assumes that the clone is kept ignorant of his origin. Which honestly could be fine
but he is NOT the original
this isn’t about the clone
this is about the original
as the original
What if they arranged it so they erased your memory for a week (for example) so you think you just had a car accident and woke back up in a body that doesn’t age
I want MY consciousness to continue
like, i am fine with being seperated from my meat sack
as long as it is a continuation of my own conciousness, not a copy that thinks it is
Put another way, I think a ‘perfect’ copy of your conciousness bothers you because you just want to be unique and one of a kind, but I think there’s MORE immortality in having like 12 Rei’s
Personally I would have a Rei-Bot
with some general tweaks to our sex life
I don’t want to be one of the Hugh Jackmans from the Prestige
that reminds me I need to watch prestige again
I have no attachment to this host
but I want to continue as myself, not to stop existing and have a different version of myself start
I am tied to the me
But literally you could NOT know
we could arrange it so you’re not aware of being a copy
no that’s the point
it wouldn’t be ME that wasn’t aware of being a copy
it would be a copy that wouldn’t be aware of being a copy
Here at fictional cloning singularity enterprises, we get this question a lot. We have a money back guarantee that if at any point you experience an existential crisis you will be refunded in total and given a free tote bag
it’s well handled in that episode of Black Mirror
It’s a really nice tote bag
there’s never any question that it’s them
Like leather with an embossed logo, it’s not cheap
can I get the tote bag anyway
I mean… with a trial maybe? Like we clone you up to age 15 and you can hang out with teenage Rei for a while…
I want black mirror style consciousness upload or nothing
Listen ma’am i know what you’ve seen on the holovids seems very real but I assure you it’s total flights of fancy.
the act of cloning is indeed dirty and messy and imperfect, however we have this amazing tote bag
it’s not any additional cost and can easily hold a weekends worth of clothes
give me the tote bag and gtfo
I’ve actually decided that I love this tote bag, and I will likely quit my job today, even thought that means giving up my immortality, as this tote bag has inspired me to be a bolder and more courageous person
Well I was chatting with my good buddy – Joe “The Giraffe” Krol, and got to talking about our mutual love of the one and only Bill Paxton. Often considered the finest actor who ever lived on the planet. Here is my list of Completely (Un)True Facts about “The Bard” Bill Paxton (RIP)
In 1948 Bill Paxton was declared the new “Rosetta Stone” and is the conduit for which all language now travels
Bill Paxton once lifted the earth to see if there was anything underneath and found a rare Nickel with an upside down face on it.
One time during an interview a reporter asked Bill Paxton to tell him “Everything he knew” and subsequently his head immediately exploded. Bill to his credit, was only trying to accomadate the reporter and was later aquitted of all 2nd degree murder charges
It’s said in the inner circles of acting, to imitate Bill Paxton is the ultimate “Method” and such greats as Robert Dinero, Marlon Brando and Bill Paxton himself all credit Bill Paxton as their greatest inspiration
Fun Fact: Bill Paxton actually played the metallic suit worn by Robert Downey Jr. in “Iron Man 1 & 2” Part 3’s suit was played by Amy Adams and a modified ice cooler.
Once on the set of Blue Lagoon, which Bill Paxton did not appear in, a Key Grip asked Bill Paxton for some advice on how to teach his kids to read. Bill Paxton proceeded to quote the entire bible from cover to cover and the Key Grips children learned to read that very night. Their names were changed to “Bill” and “Paxton” respectively out of admiration.
During a high stakes poker game, Bill Paxton bet the “Future of Human Race” and won with a straight flush, forcing the Devil ever deeper into hell.
There’s a rumor going around that Bill Paxton will play every role in a new version of Lord of the Rings that takes place in New Jersey and has twice the budget of the original Jackson version.
it’s a little known fact that Bill Pullman is actually a failed Bill Paxton cloning experiment perpetrated by the North Korean shadow government. Pullman believes himself to be Paxton under cover. They have never worked together due to Pullman’s fear of the truth.
Fun fact!! Bill Paxton is a actually a full functioning automaton created by Leonardo DaVinci in an underground layer in Atlantis. The sole purpose of the “B il Pax tune” or the “second end of peace then” was to be a shell for a philosophers stone in which lead was turned to gold to destabilize the world’s precious metal market.