Die Motherfucker Die!
Posted by omnicolor: 2007-09-02
Another thing I wrote years ago.

With murderous intentions, I think of all the people that have been unkind to me. I think how nice it would be to reward their actions with a living hell. I'd like to make every second of their pathetic little lives unbearable, watch as they squirm in their agony. Watch them twist and try to break free of the vice that squeezes them. The more they struggle the worse I'd make it. Flesh screaming from the pain, mind in turmoil from its flesh being burned away. Bodies broken, mangled, defaced, bent into most unnatural positions. But no, physical pain would be an easy way out for them. I must destroy what they love, defile what they hold sacred, and ridicule the beliefs that are the foundation of their very being. I must make them feel the loneliness, despair, anguish, and fear that I have felt. Their willpower with blow away like dust in the wind, and they will be broken. Nothing but a shell of a human. Hearts broken, will to live gone. Then they will realize their error, but it will be too late. Judgment will be made on what is left of what once might have laughingly been called a soul. Their heart, blackened by the hate and anger, will show the marks of hellspawn, and they will burn for eternity, an eternity of repeating past mistakes, and having their actions pointed back at them. They will learn, but far too late, for they have become worse than those they abused. People will curse them in many tongues, and their memories will be defiled and will become parables told to children, dire warnings of what they could become, what will happen to them. Revenge will be sweet, and it will be mine. I will bathe in its coolness, and feel its juices soak into the wounds caused by them. Revenge will be sweet and it will be mine!
Moving to California
Posted by omnicolor: 2007-08-31
Lately I've been posting a lot of my old writings (Lonely Thoughts, Breathing in Solitude, Thinking Alone, Crashing Into Myself, Flying Mortality). There are a few reasons why I'm posting something that I wrote back in '97 and '98:

  • To prove to myself how much I have grown as a writer
  • To show to myself how much I have matured as a person
  • Few people have read that stuff, and someone might want to


The main reason, though, is that I wrote most of it while in California. I was lonely and depressed for most of the three months that I was there. It was not an enjoyable experience. I had no one to talk to, so I wrote. A lot. And then I wrote some more. Now, I'm going back to California almost a decade later. I want to have the previous experience fresh in my mind for comparison purposes.

Tomorrow morning I fly out to California to move into corporate temporary housing. My wife is not coming until the next weekend, when she and Scriptlet will drive out to join me. That means I'm going to be without my family for over a week. I think I'll be alright, since I start my shiny new job on Tuesday. It looks like Google is a great place to work, and I imagine that the next week will be extremely busy and exhausting.

I keep trying to think of it as a great adventure. As a military brat, I'm not afraid of moving. I've been moving around all of my life. I've lived in the Dallas area for far too long. I came to college here in '98, so this is the longest I can lived in the same state. Sure, I moved around in Denton and then moved to McKinney, but I didn't really have to say goodbye to any friends. I'm pretty sure that saying goodbye this time will be easier, since I have so many ways of keeping in contact with them, from my cell phone (I'm not changing my number), to email, to Facebook and that other crappy social network.
Lonely Thoughts
Posted by omnicolor: 2007-08-31
More depressing writings from years ago:

A longing that permeates the mind, body, and soul, the want of possessions lost torture an already hurting person. Constant reminders in everything seen rub salt in the woulds. Home and happiness far enough away to not exist, simple survival becomes the only goal. As empty hours stack up intoxication from loneliness tears at a mind's sharpness. Minutes become days, hours months, days a time unfathomable. Times and distances become irrelevant and misunderstood by a grieving mind. Horrific images fill a dreamscape of what could be, might be. Out of touch, out of reality, a soul cries for a time now lost, memories fading to black and white, becoming less sharp with time, until they blur beyond comprehension, and begin to mix with the false reality the mind creates for the blank spaces. Photographs become a tenuous link to times barely remembered. Memories disappear as tears run down a saddened face, evaporating into the winds of time. Hands of the mind reach out, fingers outstretched, straining for one more chance at being there, wherever there is. But then where there is loses shape, and the longing is for something, but the mind can't remember what it wants, and is further saddened. Everything is nothing, and the mind loses its last something as it slides into darkness, leaving the body an empty shell, a car without a driver, careening through life.
Breathing in Solitude
Posted by omnicolor: 2007-08-27
Written many moons ago.

A sudden catharsis of emotion, as the lungs deplete their store of air. A cry of anguish, a sob of sadness, a scream of loneliness. An outward breath of hot air, taking with it a plethora of feelings, relief and calm as fresh cool air is inhaled. The quiet after a scream calms the soul, quieting the rage, and cooling the fire of anger that burns in the gut. A sigh of loneliness attempts to distract the mind from thinking. Ignore thinking, concentrate on breathing. In. Out. In. Out. Work on slowing it, feel the air enter and leave. Stop breathing, just for a second, and the thoughts start up again. The mind is a cell, and keeping it asleep keeps it docile and controllable. Waste time, but don't think. When you think, you can't know what thoughts will come. Starting from a nice thought, the insanity of an uncontrolled mind corrupts it into something sinister. A baby's breath at first becomes a hurricane, destroying all that stands in its path. Bunkers built carefully to keep memories or emotions at bay break open, releasing their contents grown spoiled and rotten through time. From the depths of the pit of consciousness comes thoughts unmentionable, prompting a shudder from the flesh tortured by the dementia of a mind left to its own devices. A tortured mind deludes and yet amuses itself with depraved fantasies and maniacal plans. Death and destruction, pain and suffering, hate and anger become central topics, as morals and sympathy decay. Longing for a gentle release from sanity, instead caught teetering on the brink between fantasy and reality, a mind suffers, wondering what is real and what are illusions. An allusion of sanity is shown a mere wish, while terrible demons become real, and gnaw on the soul, unraveling its simple fabric, taking out the stitches that hold it together. Strings snap loose, throwing thoughts into disarray, until there is nothing left, and the body looses what controlling humanity it once had, as its face contorts into a pale mockery of a human figure.
Thinking Alone
Posted by omnicolor: 2007-08-23
More from my olden days of writing:

It's kind of funny, some the things you think while you're all alone. When your mind is your best friend, it wanders further than normal. Its voice strains from so much thought, and as the thoughts get more and more demented, it falls into an ever tightening downward spiral toward insanity. These thoughts cause emotions to fire, one after another, causing an exertion unlike most have or will feel. Anger, hate, love, sadness. Sometimes alone, sometimes together, causing confusion that messes with the heart. Angry love, sad hate... It doesn't make sense, and as mental walls come tumbling down like a dike in a flood, a deluge of realizations come through. Just when you thought you know who you are, loneliness wakes you up to the truth. You find you're not as tough as you thought you were, but you find toughness in other aspects of yourself. A cold calloused detachment develops, terrifying the sensitive side of you, causing a rift to develop where you once were solid. And to keep from falling into this emotional chasm, you stop caring, and move further to the less human side, and you stop feeling the "weaker" emotions, i.e. sadness, remorse, sympathy, and embrace hate and anger, and in this state, find yourself scared of yourself. And you're the only thing you have in solitude, so you bury yet another weak emotion: fear, and continue on the path to insanity. You look into the mirror and don't recognize who you see, and do not care what happens to this person staring back at you. Your only link to the real world of sane reality is a slender gossamer thread, like a spider's web, being pulled thinner and thinner with each passing second, and as you lose the last of your emotions, hate and anger, it breaks, sending you into a pit of darkness, where you feel nothing, save pain, but the pain doesn't hurt, since it's all you have. You focus on the pain to see if you still hurt, to see if you're still human, and when you feel nothing you realize you're not, and all is lost.
Crashing Into MySelf
Posted by omnicolor: 2007-08-22
More writings from years ago:

You learn a lot about yourself being in an aviation "incident". I've been studying to get my private pilot's license, and on the third landing of my first solo flight, I landed fine, and then my left brake locked up. The plane ran off the runway and hit a sign. Jumping out of the cockpit and looking at my plane with it's destroyed propeller and chipped wing was one of the sickest feelings I've ever felt.

I learned that my number one fear is not death. As I was headed towards the inevitable, I was not thinking of death, although I could have easily died. Instead, I was thinking of how I was going to explain that to my dad. Death, I though, would probably be a better fate than whatever devious hell he would send me to once he found out about it.

After the incident, I learned just how tough I was. I was tempted to quit, to stop flying right then and there, so I would never have to look at another aircraft broken by my mistake again. But I refused to quit. If it doesn't kill me, it makes me stronger. I became more determined to learn to fly, more determined to become a good pilot. And now that I have beaten flight training and the odds arrayed against me, I'm glad I kept going. Overcoming a setback gives a great sense of pride, one much more powerful than the sick feeling of a failed step along the way.

Never do anything half way. Regret is worse than failing, while there's no shame in quitting as soon as you realize something's not right for you. 100% or nothing, with no stops in between.


Funny thing is, looking back on it now, I have only flown a plane one time since I received my pilot's certificate. I was so determined to be a good pilot, that I think I burned myself out thinking about it all of the time.
Flying Mortality
Posted by omnicolor: 2007-08-21
I'm continuing to post things that I wrote almost a decade ago:

Flying at 30,000 feet on your way to a distant place gives you some insight in to your life and what kind of person you are. I'm flying a five hour trip from Washington, D.C. to California, to go to a small prep school, and I just got to thinking about friends. I had a great group of friends in Washington, and I'm going to miss them, but while up here, looking at the ground through an occasional break in the clouds, I started thinking about my own mortality. If this plane were to crash, or blow up this second, how would my family and friends react? I'm sure my family would miss me. But sometimes I wonder how much and for what reasons. I mean, sure, I'm a part of the family, but am I deluding myself by thinking that we're a loving family? Would the miss me or my computer skills and strong back? And my friends, would the cry for me? Would they miss me or my hospitality? It's questions like these that get me depressed. I mean, I think they'd be sad, and if I asked them now, they'd say so.

But then I get to thinking, if one of them were to die today, how would I react? I'd like to think I'd be strong enough to continue functioning, while still being sad enough to respect the dead? Some friends I would be more sad about losing than others, but am I a cold enough, uncaring enough person to not mourn their loss? I already know my views on death in other subjects. I find the justice system too lenient and am willing to risk a few innocents to stop the guilty. On abortion, I'm not pro-life and I'm not pro-choice. I'm pro-death. Bringing an innocent little baby into this world when you want it is an act of cruelty, and bringing it into this world when you don't is sadistic. Life is hard enough when you have a loving mother and father.
Hackers vs. Pilots
Posted by omnicolor: 2007-08-20
I just found a bunch of writing that I did back sometime in 1997-1999. I'm going to start posting some of them.

I just received my private pilot certificate, and it's surprising to see all of the similarities between pilots and hackers. And by hackers, I mean the real hackers, not the new breed of cyber-terrorists. "Old school" hackers always try to learn about their computer, how they work and how to improve or alter their performance. Pilots, from my somewhat limited experience, are required to learn much more than just how to actually fly, and once a pilot receives their private certificate, he feels the need to keep going, to get more ratings. I just received my private certificate and I already want to start on my instrument rating.

Both hacking and flying give an intense adrenalin rush. Pilots feel it during take off, or a maneuver done correctly. I'll never forget the rush I felt flying solo for the first time. Hacking gives me the same rush, though it's not the same in intensity. That euphoria felt the first few seconds of a brainstorm, an idea that can help me get around some problem, be it security on some system or getting a program to work, gives you a natural high.
Controlling What People Say About Your Band
Posted by omnicolor: 2007-06-21
No, this isn't a tutorial on 1984-esque control of the media. It's more of reputation management in the online world. As soon as your band starts to take off, there are some web sites that you need to establish yourself on. If you miss the opportunity you may risk someone else registering as you and saying things that may not help your cause. You can lose some fans if the impostor says or does something that pisses people off.

In addition, most of these sites let you add a link to your homepage, which helps the search engines to figure out which site is the authority. Let's assume that your band's name is "Suppository Hallucinogen" and that you want to make sure that no one steals your band's online identity. Here's the steps I would take:

  • Register http://www.suppositoryhallucinogen.com and http://www.suppositoryhallucinogenband.com, as well as those domain names with .net and .org top-level domains. Have whoever is setting everything up to do a 301 redirect to your main site (http://www.suppositoryhallucinogen.com in this case). Then, when someone types or links to any of those different URLs, it will automatically redirect them to your main site.
  • Sign up on MySpace as suppositoryhallucinogen. Link back to your real domain.
  • Sign up on Facebook as suppositoryhallucinogen. Link back to your real domain.
  • Sign up on Del.icio.us as suppositoryhallucinogen. Tag your main site with keywords that describes your band: Dallas, rock, band, music.
  • Register a Gmail account of your band: suppositoryhallucinogen@gmail.com suppositoryhallucinogen@gmail.com. Set it up to forward to the email address(es) that you check.
  • Sign up for accounts at Flickr and Picasa. Upload pictures of your band to both.
  • Sign up for accounts at YouTube and Google Video. Upload any videos of your band to both, and make sure to link back to your main site.
  • Create a last.fm account for you. Install their scrobber extension for iTunes and listen to one of your mp3s. Add information about your band and your picture. You can also upload mp3s to the service to help build an internet fan base.
  • Write an honest and truthful piece about your band on Wikipedia. Don't make it full of fluff, just a little history and who's in the band.
  • Create a Squidoo Lense for your band. Link to all of your new web properties.
  • Add links to your MySpace and Facebook site from your main web site.


These steps will help to ensure that you control the official name of your band on those popular sites, as well as helping to rank your site higher in the rankings for your band name. The more active you are on all of these sites the more 'link love' your get from the search engines, and helps to make sure that when someone searches for your band name, they will find you first.
Putting Your Fans to Work
Posted by omnicolor: 2007-06-17
If you have stickers for your band (and you definitely should), many of your fans will stick them on the back windows of your vehicle. While this isn't the most powerful form of advertising, I do think it helps cement that particular fan's allegiance to you. Vehicles are very personal possessions, and the act of putting a sticker on their car is one of the things that differentiates a normal fan from a 'great' fan.

Why not reward them for it?

  1. Print little fliers that thank the fan for their support
  2. Carry a pen or a Sharpie with you at all times
  3. When you see a car with your sticker on it, sign the flier and stick it under the car's windshield wiper


A little reward for one of your better fans. If it's just a little flier thanking them for their support, you essentially just gave them your autograph. You could take it a step further by making the note worth something:

  • Exclusive demo CD for free at a show
  • Refund on all or part of the admission to a show
  • Discount on apparel, CDs, and other merchandise
  • Entrance to backstage to meet the band


As I've said before, you want to turn your normal fans into an unofficial street team. Rewarding behavior that promotes your band ensures that people continue to do it. This will work even better if you don't tell people that you're doing it. Let your fans buy your stickers (or give them away for free) and reward people for advertising for you.