Post Ti%tle

My favorite kind of web page is orange. I like orange web pages of all kinds, whether the text is orange, the background is orange, the pictures are orange, the sounds sound orange, the feelings feel orange, citrus, etc. CITRUS CITRUS CITRUS CITRUS!

So I wanna make an encyclopedia of information I'm interested in. Like peels.

Am I Human?

I'm typing this with my arms fully extended. I just corrected a mistake that I'd like to talk about. The 'a' in 'arms' was a 'w' I think, so I hit left till the little line appeared to the right of the awful 'w', then pressed backspace. Half of that last sentence was written with severely bent arms. So the 'w' disappeared and was immediately replaced by an 'a'. Actually, before the 'a' appeared, I reached one of my fingers toward the key with the capital 'A' on it and pushed downward. Down toward the center of the Earth. It was so easy, correcting my mistakes. I just did it again, to the word 'correcting'. It's only been about ten seconds, but I can't even remember the mistake I made. Also just forgot the first 'e' in 'even' and the last 'o' in 'forgot'. A slip of the finger, or a slip of the mind? Both?
Is Eliza human? Am I human? The human brain is a very complicated computer. This is pretty much common knowledge, but still astounds me even now. I made Eliza tell me to shut up and say that all my ideas were dumb. I'm sure there are people who automatically respond to things just like Eliza does. Maybe you say the exact same thing to your Dad every morning as he drives you home. As you step out of the car, you quietly murmur "bye Dad", and it doesn't really matter if you said it loud enough to be heard, cause his automatic response is "bye Willy, have a good day". Or maybe it's "great". How can I not remember? It's happened hundreds of times at least. Oh God I'm one of those people who haven't turned in Google Scholar. I better do that instead of this. But that's ok, this feels like a metaphor.
My arms are bent.

the FRend

Is this what God feels like? Does some master hand drag and drop boxes into our lives, our thoughts, and our free will? Does some ultimate series of commands govern our lives, like we're being managed or played with? Is the world anything more than just a giant, deceivingly beautiful program? This is what god feels like.

I am commander of the birds! With great and gracious patience I watch as each piece is set in place, and WOOSH! The birds come to life under my infallible orders. They are promises that cannot be broken, commands that must be followed, for, what could be done but their following? What actions can those pathetic little creatures take except the ones I tell them to make? Do they even know how to disobey? I am God now, little bird. The pig, my subject, is your enemy, a tool to fester your fervor. You will not disobey me because you love me. And you hate the pig. These feelings, combined with a healthy dose of mindless ignorance, makes you a perfect little peasant. And I am king. God loves totalitarianism.

Number 12. I have encountered a zombie. At first I was frightened. God leaps from his throne at this sudden change, but soon finds himself rising from the puddles of his own fear, and taking on this new challenge. Challenge? Nay, it is easy, as this zombie is an even better representation of my assertiveness. What better way to exercise my authority than on a dead, submissive human being? It sounds almost sick, but it's also just a computer game. NO IM GOD

THE frEND