If you don't knownow you know.
Add a comment here so you don't have to stop hearing my music
In no particular order...Dilated Peoples, Jurassic 5, Immortal Technique, DJ Shadow, DJ Krush, RJD2, Massive Attack, Coldplay, Explosions in the Sky, Elton John, Johnny Cash, David Bowie, Less Then Jake, Green Day, Ice Cube, Alice in Chains, Stone Temple Pilots, The Wallflowers, Rage Against The Machine, Smashing Pumpkins, Phil Collins, Cake, Tortoise, OutKast, Nas, Jay-Z, Tupac, Biggie, Mannheim Steamroller, Gangs of New York Soundtrack, Bourne Supremacy Soundtrack, Man on Fire Soundtrack, Kingdom of Heaven Soundtrack, Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon Soundtrack, Bill Withers, Tower of Power, Sly and The Family Stone, U2, Method Man, Wu-Tang Clan, Blues Traveler, 311, Zero 7, Eric Clapton, B.B. King, Apex Theory, Five for Fighting, Juno Reactor, Goldfinger, Propagandhi, NO F/X, The Beach Boys, Santana, Everlast, Kid Rock, Nelly Furtado, Incubus, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Tears For Fears, The Offspring, Limp Bizkit, Marilyn Manson, P.O.D., The Spin Doctors, Blink 182, Thievery Corporation, The Who, etc.
What does a scanner see? Into the head? Down into the heart? Does it see into me, into us? Clearly or darkly? I hope it sees clearly, because I can't any longer see into myself. I see only murk. I hope for everyone's sake the scanners do better. Because if the scanner sees only darkly, the way I do, then I'm cursed and cursed again. I'll only wind up dead this way, knowing very little, and getting that little fragment wrong too.
Because we do not know when we will die, we get to think of life as an inexhaustible well. And yet everything happens only a certain number of times, and a very small number really. How many more times will you remember a certain afternoon of your childhood, an afternoon that is so deeply a part of your being that you cannot conceive of your life without it? Perhaps four, or five times more? Perhaps not even that. How many more times will you watch the full moon rise? Perhaps twenty. And yet it all seems limitless.
There is an idea of a Patrick Bateman, some kind of abstraction. But there is no real me: only an entity, something illusory. And though I can hide my cold gaze...and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable...I simply am not there...I have all the characteristics of a human being: blood, flesh, skin, hair; but not a single, clear, identifiable emotion, except for greed and disgust. Something horrible is happening inside of me and I don't know why. My nightly bloodlust has overflown into my days. I feel...lethal...on the verge of frenzy. I think my mask of sanity is about to slip.There are no more barriers to cross. All I have in common with the uncontrollable and the insane - the vicious and the evil - all the mayhem I have caused and my utter indifference toward it I have now surpassed. My pain is constant and sharp and I do not hope for a better world for anyone. In fact, I want my pain to be inflicted on others. I want no one to escape. But even after admitting this there is no catharsis...my punishment continues to elude me and I gain no deeper knowledge of myself; no new knowledge can be extracted from my telling. This confession has meant...nothing...
Alain Aspect. Go ahead: look him up. Look at that mustache. Guy's gotta' be a genius to be that crazy.