Your demand for respect is why I do not respect you.

It is probably supremely ironic that as I sit down to write some contemplations about demands for “respect” on the behalf of Islam, I am watching the first X-Men film since 2003 that its makers should not be ashamed of. In the past, I have said that respect is something that you earn, not demand. But no part of life where dealing with other people is concerned is ever that simple.

Presentation effects everything you show to me, including cultures.

As is often my wont, I spent a few minutes having a think about aspects of my situation. That means every part of it, including the things I use to distract myself from it. And after one minor crap-exchange during a World Of Warcraft dungeon run with a very ignorant person that I and my party-mate of preference both disliked, I began to think to myself. What do the cultures that other people partake of look like to me, and why?

Dawn Of The Dead versus Dawn Of The Dead: How missing the point can really hurt your story

In the year 1978, George A. Romero released a film unto the world that has set many standards in terms of how horror films and films with social commentary should be made. That film was called Dawn Of The Dead, and is estimated to have grossed around fifty-five million dollars on the worldwide market, against an estimated budget of six hundred and fifty thousand.

Musicians I do not follow much, but have heard some great songs from

Okay, so I write a lot here about musicians that I listen to. And generally, when I mention a specific album from them, such as Apostrophe (‘) or 40 More Reasons To Hate Us, I actually own a copy of that album and have listened to it at length. Thus, when I make comments about why the album is not up to my standards or far exceeding them, and how it reflects the makers’ creative state of mind at the time of making, I pretty much always have a basis for what I am talking about. But from time to time, I come across an artist whose main body of work does not interest me that much, but little pieces thereof do. This writing will go into some of them and who they are. Not to mention why.

The new Internet “meme”… no, I mean trend… no… I am not sure what I mean (it is that fukking stupid).

I have hinted in the past that I used to write on LiveJournal, but stopped after I found the interface and certain aspects thereof difficult to tweak to my liking. There are also things I seriously dislike about LiveJournal’s management. But I came across a link to a journal that uses LiveJournal as a host, with its own domain prefix. The story in that link, well, I will link it here before I forget.

Call me an adult with autism again, I dare you

I do not know what it is about norms and normies that makes it necessary for people like myself or Lydia Brown to write about it multiple times, but here it is again: calling me [insert word here] “with autism” is wrong. Not just wrong in the sense that I do not like it. It is wrong in the same sense that putting one’s fingers or penis into a child’s anal passage is wrong.