I have neglected my wlog for some time. Every time I've been inspired to write about the minutia of my shallow existence, I've been far away from my machine or at the local opium den. However, the sting of responsibility is at my back. The driving goal is that one day, my scribing will be recognized by the World Autism Organization and I'd receive a commission to write a collection of short stories aptly titled "My Struggle". The German version has been forecasted to be a best seller.

Anyway, as I wrote in an earlier article, I moved to Harvard Square in Cambridge, MA, once regarded as the nerve center of the greater Boston area, but in the last few months, it's been on par with Everett, isn't that weird.

So, this place rocks, it has an elevator and my apartment has a suicide porch. To further elevate this place, I recently received a package from the "Vineyard Christian Fellowship". In it, a Tape Measure, with standard AND metric measurements.

You know, I had these Christians all wrong. You think about all of the people like myself that dreamed of becoming Construction workers and now Christ has enabled them to achieve them! I've measured tons of shit already. It could be a metaphor for Jesus' carpentry profession, or perhaps several other potential acolytes and myself have received various tools for the erection of a sacrificial ziggurat, or whatever sort of temples Christians chill in.

Whatever the case, Christianity rocks. I used to be a soulless husk consuming fake idols like science and the Force and voodoo, but none of them ever gave me a tape measure. All chemistry ever gave me was some bomb acid... but thats okay, because Christan Science combines the best of both worlds.

They have this thing called Mass, which i think is an abbreviation for "Massive", its a big party at a Ziggurat where you build shit, chug wine, cannibalize people and do drugs [ala Science!].

But much like all of my spiritual epiphanies, it's followed by painful withdrawal. Now, I could just goto true-value and buy a shovel or a power-drill to satiate my addiction to religion, but its much more sobering when I realize that I've simply been a pawn in a conspiracy whose tentacles weave all the way to the White House, or at least the corner office, fine, my super's broom closet.

My apartment complex has a newsletter entitled "Building Alert". The issue with the headline "You're evicted. You have 7 days do vacate the premises" had an article regarding stolen construction equipment. It pontificated that it may have been an inside job, or that thieves snuck in while a garage door was open. Honestly, I don't know where it would be stored. This highly organized syndicate needed to cover its tracks. They found that framing a few spiritually empty chumps would cover their tracks. But they didn't count on me. I will dispense my own brand of vigilante justice using their own weapons against them!

For example, I'll measure shit. Maybe use it as a tripwire or something.. and I'll recruit other dudes with other tools; A nail-gun would be pretty useful, you know. It's almost reminiscent of Battle Royale. I guess there'd be a turncoat who'd compromise my Revolutionary United Front. [RUF] Rated PG-13 for brief nudity.

On another note, Grendel's got a new album out, because I've been hearing tons of new Grendel tracks on Shoutcast, and they rock pretty hard. I wouldn't go as far as saying they beat Soilbleed, but they're pretty close. Man, I'm gonna watch Catch 22* now.


*Grendel samples Catch 22 in a ton of tracks.

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