Artistic Footprint

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Even a humble witness of the world can say that good is stark. From the beginning of conscious memory we are indoctrinated to believe that all is good and that if evil prevails, our innocence at stake. It’s easy to concentrate on either side, but what does the world look like if it were placed on a spectrum of good and bad? Where would we sit? would the trends shift over variables like gender? nation? wealth? species? Who is the best of us all, and who is the worst? how do we set that standard? Who is responsible for altruism, and who for evil?

The childhood innocence is a false vile toxin. To grow up with the expectations of prosperity and unlimited resource, only to realise one day that it has costs – makes one feel undefined by the standards of true human nature. How do you break it to a child that nuclear weapons exist? How that the environment is exploited? or that people are tortured? Do you break it all at once over the dinner table? or do you slowly let him realise it on his own?

But how do we gauge the bad against altruistic progress? Is the world getting better? Are we advancing towards bliss?

Unfortunately we have all been force-fed the concept of super-sized all-inclusive bliss, and while we were enjoying the ample supply of life-multiplying resources, nobody stopped to wonder where it all came from. How were we able to leave the quest for food water and shelter, only to enter the rat-race of taxes, vanity,groceries, and dividends?

The advancement of privatized investigation, the growth of information technology, and people seeking truth, has brought the truth of human existence out of news-networked fear gimicks to our doorsteps to help us understand those costs. Over the past few years those of us willing have been bombarded with the truth – where our comforts, wealth, health, and happiness comes from – and at who’s expense.

A part of me forces myself to sit through gruesome, horrifying documentaries. Perhaps because I was born into the grouping of humanity, and I feel responsible for the actions of this species as a member. Perhaps because of my addiction to truth and my hatred for ignorance. I quickly felt my vision of a perfect world diminish in my dreams. The eden of good was never worth the cost of atrocity. I want to fight for the vision that was falsely placed in my dreams.

But I cannot live in fear of doom and hatred. I need to have a cause in my fight. So I listen and I watch, and I feel for all that is good to me. I understand where my happiness comes from and I seek it with whole-hearted appreciation. From the filling of my lungs and stomach to the beauty captured by my eyes and the excitement of life, I seek preservation of this overall sensation. I seek homeostasis, harmony, and sustainability. Eden can grow from there.

More than anything, I have begun to understand that the definition of humanity is wavering at best, dynamic in optimism, but likely more questionable and critical. If you are like me, and you seek truth through this new and overwhelming form of revealing information, you may find yourself scared into action, but helpless in your situation/ Remember this, because this is what helps me sleep at night:

1. You are not alone

2. Seek like-minded individuals

3. Relate your mindset with your environment

4. Make your beliefs part of yourself

5. Stand up for your beliefs

6. Take action at every opportunity

7. Expose the truth

8. Remember what you’re fighting for, sometimes which is worth dying for because to you, the cause is greater than yourself.

9. Seek new ways to overcome obstacles, and share them with the world.

We are at a turning point in humanity. We have reached our lowest point without even knowing it. You may say it’s not your fault that you were born into the world this way, but those same events are what made the world an acceptable place for you to be born into. It doesn’t mean volunteering for a food bank, or travelling to the far corners of the globe to save a whale – these are either for the die-hards or the miss-americas. Your debt for the right to live is to fulfill the definition of how you call yourself human. Thats as simple as believing in the air that you breathe, the food that you eat, and the laughter you share. This is your opportunity to fill your life with all these amazing things that make you you.

Time is an invention. Time is nothing more than the amount of things that can happen before another bigger thing happens. A year is divided into days and hours just it is divided by the number of earth rotations, and the Earth is divided into sections. A comparison for a comparison. Like we compare the distance to a star based on time, we compare the length of our lives on that same system. Imagine finding a person who had never thought of time. How old would they be? We would gauge their age by the grey in their hair or the wrinkles in their smile. Some people live for 20 years, others for 100, but each life is simply made quantifiable based on a comparison of other events. How can we break the math, and suggest that the 20 year-old lived longer? The difference is the immeasurable variable of quality. And to understand this, it must be made relative. The same relativity of time can be used to qualify knowledge, happiness, space, and eventually, if left to expand, the concept of evolution and a starting point to existence. This would be the first concept to tie human minds together beyond the realms of information technology, to foretell the future using trends, and maybe to explain the uncertainty of supernatural perfectness.

Quality inherently is not just a better-made product. Quality is a word that can explain something without using numbers. Quality is relative to one person’s experience, and further relative to another’s. Quality has limitations, from nonexistent to perfect. But using situational trends, one could predict what perfect would look like, relative to our species.

Broken down, humans are special in one specific way: our minds are more powerful than our bodies. The body is just a portal with which the mind manipulates its environment, information is received through sensation, then reacted to through muscles and dexterity. We enhance our bodies through invention and the ingenuity of our minds. If the body was the definition of human, then we are superhuman because of what our brains want to do. Our perspective moves beyond the limitations of our bodies through the use of lenses. We can communicate through time using the stored language of folklore and scripture. So our minds are relative. It is only fair to provide a relative world to live in.

The number 3 does not exist, but 3 kilometers does. Why? Because distance is relative to a comparable distance we are familiar with. And we use that relativity to satisfy our mind’s curiosity of space. Because it is a cure, or even a survival tactic, to keep away from danger, or to know how close safety is. “Away” being a safe distance behind the car infront of you. “close” being walking distance to a store for life-sustaining nutrients. Kids get lost in grocery stores, and think their world is over. Their minds evolve beyond the sliding doors and into the space of travel, beyond the limitations of their feet, beyond all that is familiar, and can still feel at home. Therefore, space is relative.

With this understanding, definite answers now turn into spectrums of possibility. Impossibility can be achieved, because so far, the human mind is limitless. We have already overcome so many obstacles that our bodies couldn’t. The most amazing thing, I find, is that our complexity has ancestry of such simple things, yet we can still be born and trained to understand the changes from then till now, and still grow and expand our minds. We are Relative.

http://www.unisci.com/stories/20011/0227013.htm

Nowadays, people are migrating from formalized education and are now at least gaining insight on their tangible worlds through new means. They are gathering at their computer screens, magic 8 balls, and tabloid magazines to get answers for all these “how comes” that before the digital revolution, could only be answered by with a library card, and well – when was the library ever cool?

Oddly enough, it seems that no one has thought to figure out what these people want to know, and it seems as though the best place to find out is the google autosearch function. This is the same method used to create individually markettable targets in retail, but I think it’s far more entertaining just to see what’s concerning people. Interesting questions that I think show people reaching out to relate themselves to a standard or norm. Some of these google queries might strike you as shockingly introverted, ignorant, or fearful, but others might pose the realities of how the average citizen sees their world.

Keep in mind that google has created these auto completes based on the lower mainland area.

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I’ve spent the last 6 years living in or visiting the mountain skyline of Vancouver. As anyone would comment, the west is the best impression is immediate and addictive. I, like others, have made the long trek to be immersed in its endless adventure, instant escape, hidden corners and impossible views. Vancouver has made me love monthly downpours and the expectation of always being wet. Sunny days to me are a shocking anomaly that strikes my spatial sense with awe, but almost makes me feel uncomfortable without the solitude of fog and the wrappings of a soothing and healing curtain of rain.

The familiarities of the City of Glass are dynamic with the comings and goings of short term visitors. Hostels are always full and the airports are always busy. It seems that with the rush of people wanting to immigrate to its awesomeness has driven the native Vancouverites out; the people that had this pocket of the world to themselves have been naturally assimilated through commerce and tourism. With the passing of the Olympics, the BC government has given birth to fortresses of tourism and foreign investments to exploit the diverse wilderness, excitement, and landscape.

It’s a rarity to be at a party or bar or concert and find a surplus of home grown BC folk. The majority of my friends are not from here. This either means that the immigration of foreigners has forced them underground with a bad taste in their mouths, or that they simply have been diluted by the population of new folks.

Conversely, in Hogtown, the most criticised and trashed city, lies the citizens of the old opportunity of business and industrial wealth. Toronto was in direct contact with its people, not a storefront for industry, there was no posh veneer face to the inner workings of an operation, it was a clash between the two. Commuters from Steeltown would conduct business in the structures that they designed at home and travel on the trolleys and subways that were built just hours away. Toronto was the corporate hub that ran the nation more so than the capitol, where Vancouver, Calgary, and Montreal seemed like outreaching fingers of Toronto’s power. There was a pride and arrogance in a Toronto businessman’s step as he grasped his subdivisions by the binder-spine and made changes that affected all Canadians.

Now, Toronto is the Lost City. Many of its children have left to pursue a life of clarity and cleanliness, and none have stopped to look back. But I have. Grabbing some street meat from the vendors on Front Street, walking past the colossal venue that once housed Joe Carter and Roberto Alomar, I can still see the line-ups of people in blue and white waiting under a summer sunset for the game at 7, shadowed only by the Tower that epitomized the prowess of Toronto’s might. Even still I tune into the Dean Blundell show and the History of New Music. I (almost) miss the endless parking lot of traffic and city artery intersections unheeded by the workings of a rusting crazy homeless man dancing in their path.

Onwards I grabbed the subway and listened to the grinding and screeching metal as I headed to Dundas Square. In the station, floor tiles have been cracked for years and never repaired. Tacky-coloured walls are covered with soot and tar from the seemingly haunted trains that have been running since Trudeau. Business execs, highschool students, officers, waitresses, and labourers all ride in the same seats, no division to separate their wealth, race, group size, or health. They have never needed a route map or station name, their commute almost autonomous. You could look at the face of any of these people and imagine what they’re thinking about; the hockey game, the bitter winter, the wife’s grocery list, university GPA’s, or an eastern domestic beer.

Both in Vancouver and Toronto, 15% of the citizens are Canadian. The difference is that in Toronto, all of the people all have a sense of belonging. People move with purpose and direction. No matter where they are from, what they look like, or who they are, they seem to have a secondary characteristic that defines them as Torontonian.

Vancouver is a very clean city. The Transit system is new, computerised, and clean. Sketchy neighbourhoods are rebuilt to be refreshing and exciting – to flow tourists in and scare drug-addicts and homeless out. Images of the coast’s wildlife are projected on street signs and raingutters, reminding us of how close we are to nature here. The people walk the streets with a bewildered look, they ride the train twice, they seek niches of comfort and en route they keep to themselves with headphones and newspapers so as to avoid conflict; their final destination a quaint hipster café.

I’m not too sure what I’m trying to say here. Perhaps one is that there is a certain rawness to Toronto that forces its people to recognize that the world isn’t all peace and bliss, and that the world is not hidden behind some expensive drapes. Toronto has also taught me to see an inner beauty and to feel a longing for its character and people. Perhaps we should all look back on our homes and forget the harsh bandwagon titles we give them, and appreciate the friends, family, and culture for making us who we are.

This, I suppose, is a continuation of the previous post: Passing Spaces

Perhaps I’m going out on a limb here, but I feel as though we as a civilization are crossing generations and seeing daily revolutions. We can all agree that each life is more exciting and action-packed than the last, yes? Boredom seems to be most infectious plague our minds can contract, symptoms include but are not limited to a lack of productivity, and a total loss in opportunity. I have found that in order to survive in a world driven by constant risk, effort, and sleepless hours, I, like many have begun to experience the exhaustion of human limitations. I don’t generalize myself as a lazy person, and at worst I at least see the turmoils of the rat race on those close to me. Conversely, I have the rare opportunity to experience vapidness, silence, and slowness. More than the appreciation of these moments and their serenity, I have realized how foreign they are, and how the smells of an empty beach or misty trail spark long-forgotten memories of how things used to be. Now it seems that every second your mind spares for relaxation is a second lost in the competition for pride, success, and power, as though we punish ourselves for the human right to appreciation. To revel in our successes is to have the time to experience their rewards. Where in your life does this time exist? Is it yearly on holiday? monthly? weekly? Why is it not Daily? Why do we go exhausted at night to dream of budgets and problems when we should have taken the time to thank ourselves and our friends for the hours of daylight we had in order to live our lives for ourselves and for them? Who do we live for when we put on the uniform every morning? Is it for you? is it for your family? is it for your vacation or your retirement? Is it for the good of your country and government? Most importantly – why do we not ask this question every morning? Why do we not verify the callouses, dry eyes, and repetitive strains to ensure they head us the direction we intend?

To survive in a world today is to be inhuman. If humans are defined by what happens at the edge of our fingertips with the strength of our mind then the world today has changed us. Perhaps we are substituting our shortfalls with processors which by definition have slowly evolved to do our work for us and separate us from the people we were after the mechanical world became obsolete. Do we rewrite the books on what makes humans human? is that inherent in us with our natural magnetism to creativity?

We are at the cusp of artificial change as an urban species. Although I’m not against this, All I am asking is that we remain human.

Are we lost an apprehensive life of politeness? Every time I return to the city I am overwhelmed with the manners in which we treat our fellow neighbors, so undisturbed this observation, I feel like I’ve been cured of an unsettling daily regimen and barely show a part in its quiet austerity. Everywhere you go now, people have divulged themselves in a pocket-sized world. We literally have grown our own limbs that can reach vast distances and compute in stellar proportions to ease the rat race. They can pop into our ears and shut off the world, excusing ourselves from strangers. They allow us to be selective in our conversations and friends. Sitting on the bus I feel awkward without my headphones on. I watch as a guy enters the bus, his eyes darting to find an open spot. It’s interesting to watch where he goes because it seems the intent is to locate the largest distance between people. He finds a seat and sits, but doesn’t take the entire seat entitled to him. The girl next twists left to look away. On the way back to me, my eyes catch another wandering pair across from me, but for no moment at all and I’m once again staring into my lap, waiting for my stop.

Why are we so afraid of each other? Why do we assume that everyone needs a personal bubble? Why is a quiet “sorry” the first word to be sheepishly uttered from my mouth should I happen to be in someone’s path? I believe we have all created our own definition for the crowd of strangers we see every day: “not me.” A face has become the cover of a book to be glanced at and quickly forgotten. It seems even that flustering flatulence has become more of an embarrassment for the silent witnessing crowd than for the one that dealt-it. In the good ol’ days this was the perfect opportunity to laugh at life and carry on with a good story to tell our friends about “that guy who ranked the bus out.” Now we’ve become ashamed on their behalf. Even too nervous to ask for help when autonomous services confuse us, nor be the person to speak up and give advice because we’re too scared to be noticed.

We have taken our doses in our new digital era in portions so obscene that we don’t know what will happen to our natural lives. I think the scariest part about relying on computers is our loss of the analogue world, the world where gears turn and real things tick. A tangible universe filled with the wonders of real life. Exposure to an appreciable hardship that made things worthwhile, a tangible experience in the texture and durability of our daily use, and the trust in their design because a real person is in control or had put it together. A person you could trust, and shoot the shit with on your beautifully noisy commute, where people are responsible for themselves and had a direct voice in the passing spaces.

This is continued in the post: The Transition

Relativity.

Einstein’s two theories on relativity are combined to relate space and time, a strangely philosophical scientific theory. My idea of relativity is more of human and less of science, but has little to do with Einstein. “Life is relative” Regardless of our genetic similarities, every human has a totally unique mind, and from birth developes a spacial, relatable concept of the world using their five known senses. This amounts to things larger than grouped ideas about theology, nationalism, or political or economic systems. Have you ever thought that what you see as the pigment of blue might be a completely different pigment to someone else? for example, a pink and blue maple tree. But they’ve had those pigment differences since birth, and those arrangements look natural. The same must apply for time, culture, values both numerically and morally, and spacial sense.

Time: To many, we don’t have enough of it. Life is too short and we must make each second worthwhile. To some, life is too long. Things aren’t working out and we’d just like the pain to end. Some have abolished the invention of time as a whole and live their lives freely. Some categorize the history of mankind as one generation, another perhaps dates as far back as the industrial revolution or medieval times. Others see history as time from the very beginning to now, and occasionally have the mental capability to make it relative and answer the “how did this happen?” with stunning perspective.

Value: What makes us valuable? How do we make our lives valuable? We’ve numerically calculated value with GDP and dollars, but this is merely an invention, and really has nothing to do with value. A teddy bear can be more valuable than the home it sits in, yet the dollar value and time spent obtaining such commodities is incomparible. True, inherent values are those which make time better used to add value to our lives. And of course, those values to one person may be the dollars and the salaries. To others its the fine wines and ballet concerts. To some it’s the notches on their belts and the lives in their grasps. Perhaps the size of a family and large home-cooked meals, or a collection of photos from countless adventures. To many, it’s the closeness of death that adds value.

Time with little value is wasted time – a long time
Time with much value is used time – a short time.

With added value, time decreases. “time flies when you’re having fun”

Spacial sense: No number exists without a value. You don’t just have the number three or 30. You have three apples or 30km. And again those numerical values mean nothing if you haven’t experienced them. You don’t know what 3 apples looks like in comparison to one, just like you don’t know how far 30km is, let alone travelled that distance. What you would describe as a “long distance” say, across town, would be a small increment of another’s concept of distance, because they are used to longer travels, say – across a country. But even then, that is infinitely small in comparison to an astronomer’s concept of distance, measured in light years. Could you relate to a light year? Can you look at two stars through a telescope and say: “oh yea that one’s about 3 light years, and the other one is about 70.” Even if you could, does it make sense in your mind? This is the reason why we don’t understand what some people are talking about. It literally is a different language between minds, regardless of the international concept of numbers. Everything you sense, be it speed, distance, brightness, loudness, texture, palatteability, good and evil, is relative to your mind, and coincidentally is relatable to your species. Specifically those that think the same way you do. It is the same reason why a picasso is a work of genius to one group of people vs. a hideous combination of colour and shape to others. Because their minds do not agree.

In retrospect, ticking clocks, dollar signs, and numerical values are a true language invented by us, and used to relate to one another, but are organized too simply by us to be universal, and unaccomodating to the individual.

How we change.

people who live day by day have seasonal or part time jobs, pay rent, buy used and make do. They’re more instinctive, realistic, animal, quick on their feet, and have instant fixes for the issues facing them. as opposed to year by year folk who have careers, marriages, salaries, mortgages, debts, educations, retirement plans, investments, holiday arrangements. They scheme, plan, and sort out the pros and cons of problems to sort out a stable resolution. they are always looking ahead and are rarely surprised.

The more this thought pops into my head, the more often I see that we cannot change who we are, what we do, what we enjoy, what we hate, what’s attractive, scary, fun, logical, or insane. Whether we choose to or not, everyone has something they want to do, somewhere they want to be, someone they want to become. We have a definition for the perfect human being that none of us can achieve.

Are you not cool enough? Are you mean or annoying? Do people not get you? Are you healthy? Are you honest? Do you have an addictive personality?

The first half to solving these problems is to acknowledge the existence of these flaws, and figure out where they came from. But the second half, the one I am concentrating on here, is… how do you fix them to become this impossibly flawless person? Of course I am cynically arguing that it’s not possible, you are you because of your experiences. But one thing is for certain. When we notice our problems, we don’t dig deep inside and make a conscious effort to change. When has a new years resolution actually worked? Instead, we change our environments. We seek out friends, hobbies, habits, and homes to train our minds to adapt. Perhaps its forcing yourself into what you don’t like in order to like it. Maybe you face your fears to see yourself overcome it. Maybe you avoid it entirely by making new friends.

However you overcome your flaws, my point is that you don’t change them directly, you’re smart enough to alter your environment, but in reality, it’s the environment that fixes you. This would explain why a vacation from work refreshes your motivation, or an excess of drugs or alcohol brings unfortunate light into your life. It would also explain why meeting someone new after a tiresome and destructive relationship teaches you a few things.

Change is good for the lessons it teaches you and for the hopeful peace that comes from finding your niche. But changing too much can be stressful on the mind and cause it to shut down, just as damaging as living a placid, colourless life.

Watched this and somehow it hit home:

Idiot Drivers, this is for you.

You may be asking yourself  “well… how do I know if I’m an idiot driver?” well I’ve put a lot of research into this study, and boy do I have an answer for you.

The John Smith or Jane Doe:

We’ll start it off nice and simple. Most likely, you live in an urban setting. You’re likely a 9-5er, and you pretty much only drive on one route because you like routine, eventhough another way might be faster or more efficient, but you never thought of that. You probably ACED your drivers exam because you’re a keener like that, but of course your lack of intellect turned you into a monotonous operator with a 2 second memory buffer-zone. You’re comfortable changing lanes without signalling, but when you DO remember to warn others of your intentions, you are completely oblivious to the fact that your blinker needs to be turned off as well. But that’s ok. Your dashboard consists of a few minor things. a switch for your wiper, a knob for your radio (not to be confused with the superHUGE knob that makes the car turn), and of course a brake and throttle. All of these dials, switches, knobs, and buttons feel really good when you play with them randomly. You’ve probably got a pet fish at home, and you like the cell-phone commercials because you think they relate to you. You listen to hit pop music on the radio, but you have no idea how an engine works. “step on pedal, car go fast!” (fast of course being no more than the speed limit, because you stand for the law and enjoy getting in the way of people who like to live life for themselves) In fact you rarely think for yourself, you just stay between the white flashing lines and even speak to roadsigns, often with an upwards inflection. You’re the kind of person that enjoys their rushour commute and don’t mind being a sardine in a sandbox, squeaking by in civilization. Your driving skills clearly reflect your social skills and grasp of the norm. You’ve always dreamt of travel and adventure but quickly you turn on the TV to make them go away.

You MAY also fall into one of these special categories.

The Pickup Driver:

(two subcategories): You’re from the country and have no business or experience for that matter, driving in the city. But you still drive like it’s the outback, and the highway is just another dirt road with no one on it. wanna change lanes? go ahead. Don’t worry about that person on your corner, you couldn’t see him if you wanted to. Yea. You change your oil and do all your own repairs, because that’s what a real man does. Which is probably why your truck is a clunker and throws out thick black smoke instead of accelerating. Your carbureted rustbucket is “great” for climbing hills and towing big loads. You’re the kind of person who shits in a public toilet and doesn’t flush, not because you’re an asshole, you just shit like you drive your truck.

OR, you’ve got some family roots tied to the lovely province of Alberta (which is a bit of a paradox because Alberta has one family tree: a stump) and you’ve just cashed in on your dream truck. A ford F-350 that you paid double for so you could turn it into something from Monster Truck Madness (barely street legal). Oh wait that’s not cash, that’s financing with a downpayment from your oil rig wages, a mirror-image of the province’s financial fuckups. Make a turn on a highway at more than 100km/h and your truck will flip off the road, but you don’t care, its insured. And of course when you’ve got a truck like that, it’s almost illegal for it to be clean. You boast how innefficient your 7.1L V10, rear wheel drive monster by smashing head first into a lake of mud and slap on a pair of truck-balls on the hitch. You replace those huge tires annually from all of those fast-food parking lot burnouts, and assume that you’ve got fantastic control in rain, mud, or snow eventhough you don’t. You can’t put two and two together; no weight in the back means no fucking traction, idiot! You’ve got a 70% chance of owning a Harley, Boat, or Camper, and a 90% change of having a gun rack and a shotgun. You’re a good person though. You go to church every sunday and are close with your family. You’re a republican, eventhough you don’t know what that means, don’t have a passport, and love war movies. After a long day of drinkin, muddin, and shootin stuff you come home to your loyal bud light and KFC family pack to watch football.

The Ricer:

This one’s a real hoot. Your computer skills are at par with your video-gaming, and are likely in school for IT. Your small stature is the opposite of your attitude, and your girlfriend is always riding shotgun with her IQ surgically removed. Her timidness and high-pitched voice is a blatant annoyance to everyone but you think its hot because you like control. You practically live in your car and drive it all night for fun. But enough about you, lets get into that car… fuck ford or GM, this is a most likely a honda civic, toyota celica, or subaru WRX. If you’re driving a hot Nissan ZX3 or something, then you either own your own IT firm or are part of an asian mafia. But shit it’s not a honda anymore. This car has been ripped apart to the frame and put back together again with somewhere close to a million dollars worth of upgrades. 25″ rims with 26″ tires, practically no suspension, and a skirt that is inches from the asphalt, resulting in your car being allergic to speedbumps. Speed for you is a necessity. Other drivers on the road are just pylons in your way and you scower the streets looking for someone to race for cash or girfriends. You added a new muffler not for the performance but because you like the sound it makes. In fact you like it so much that you want the whole world to hear it, but of course then no one can hear that over those new subwoofers. CLEARLY you have the best taste in music and blast Lil’ Wayne or Soulja Boy through town so that everyone can enjoy it! how nice of you. The amp is so powerful that the hinge on your trunk is threatening to go stellar and your license plate is vibrating off. You speak in L33T (which is like digital jibberish) when you text your friends to meet you at the movie theatre or to show up at your next Final Fantasy XIII gaming night.

Or then you could be a bald, white, wife-beating nobody who drives a purple dodge neon that’s actually like… 7 dodge neons (all of different colours) put together. All you could afford was a muffler and a second-hand spoiler that looks like it came from the NHRA’s Funny Car drag races which you bolted to the trunk yourself. You think you’re hot shit, but really those people are all laughing at you. Actually there’s not much else to say about you. You have no friends and no body likes you or your ugly car.

The scary thing I find out this little study of mine is that it’s far more real than I’d like to admit. Perhaps I’m not cut out for the city, but these are ROADS. A car is a human’s arch-nemesis, and we don’t mix well. Why do we go and make the worlds most dangerous method of travel MORE dangerous by driving like a bunch of assholes? How is it possible that upgrading your car to dangerous levels is legal? why are people so ignorant when they drive? I drive a LOT, and I’m sure a lot of you do too. But from what I see? How you Drive is a perfect example of the person you really are. You’re either a bitch or you’re an asshole, you’re stupid or you’re ignorant. But at least maybe this post will promote a little awareness.