In Furuvik, Sweden a chimpanese named Santino searches his zoo-locked domain for rocks. He has been searching high and low for eleven years. Finding the loose rocks and piling them in a accessible stash ready to use a moments notice. He’s angry. The zoo keepers say he walks around frustrated all day. He searches for rocks to add on the pile. He never has enough. When he thinks the pile is high enough because in the morning they come.

Santino wakes to hear the chatter of radios near his domains entrance. He peaks out and awaits the hoard to come over. Over the hill the masses collect at his borders. The unwanted visitors laugh and point. They provake and intimidate. Santino can’t stand it. This is his domain his families home and he won’t except his fate. His brothers, his sisters pleed with him not to step out not to step off the tree.

His brothers and sisters don’t know how he does it but the understand why Santino throws his rocks.

As the light hits his head Santino steps on to his ramparts. He picks his missle and puts hand to air. CRACK as the rock hits his border. His aim is off… but its early. He hasnt worked out the kinks yet. This time he sizes up a massive shap bobbing over the edge of his inward sloped castle wall. He steps to the pitch and dusts off his foot. For the  first time he lifted up on his back legs thew his arms out to their extreme sides and screemed whil cracking his spine. as he slowly relaxes his larnx and brings he chest foward he stands tall on two feet. With perfect posture he windes his arm up. Guessing the proper motion as he goes through it for the first time. The arm snaps foward and the rock, straight and true hurdles toward his intended target.

Santino’s skeleton falls apart under the wait of hold up his enter upper building. He grabs at his rock pile with two hands throws wildly at the dmz between his world and theirs. His first pitch, already hitting its target has caused comotion amongst the invaders ranks. The shadows cower and fall back shielding themseleves.

Santino is angry. He walks around frustrated that his life is undefended. In the wild he would never meet a stranger with friendship and understanding. All he has is his land and no matter what happens he will protect it with his life.

The behavior he exhibits is uncommon for a chimp. In Current Biolog theres a story about Santino the improvising chimp. He was studied for over 11 eleven years. They watched repeatedky as he collected rocks and threw them at the crowds approaching to laugh and point.

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Note to those reading this. If you have something you want to hide or if you own a file cabinet that you lock and keep files in.

DO NOT HIDE THINGS IN THE FOLLOWING AREAS:

• Behind a draw
• Stuck or duct taped to the top of a draw
• Behind the cabinet itself (or stuck behind the cabinet)
• Under the cabinet between the footer and the first draw

These are all bad hiding places thanks to tv shows. If I was in a private dictective’s basement or make shift study. The first place I would look would be the file cabinet. If its locked then I would look harder. If you need to hide something then make sure to not hide it in a file cabinet and if you do hide it in a file cabinet don’t lock it. If you lock it people will think there is something inside it.

Follow the ninja way and hide objects in plain sight. For this purpose its always good to have a lamp with a hollow base/stand.

NOTE: I do not hide things in lamps. This is just a suggestion.

A behavior that is lost on us as a adults and forgotten is pretending to be a car. Do you remember other kids (or yourself) pretending to be a car or drive a car? They would “drive by” you at the bus stop then screech the breaks and make a beep beep sound while they walked backwards. I miss that. EXTREME IMAGINATION. The type of imagination that made everything else disappear or at the least change everyone around you into something else. It might be the reason while say many take drugs. The wonderment of immediate change in perception.

That kid that pretended to be a car didn’t care that the beep beep reverse was only for a truck. He was a sports car and everything allied to auto-motion was applied to him. He was the embodiment of auto-travel.

Do yourself a favor and attempt to be a car.. or pretend to drive an invisible car. Letting your mouth become the motor and your legs the wheels.

As part of my first series for IMOHK I introduce to you “In Search of the worlds strongest”. 

The idea came from something my father would say about his father’s generation. He would often refer to my grandfather as “one of the last of the mighty men”. He was right because as my Grandfather suffered through his last couple months alive. He never once complained, he never said it was unfair, he never seemed to concern himself with himself. His biggest concern has his family and that takes a inner strenght not known by my own and post-generations.

To start this series I would nominate this as our first entry. A ukrainian woman who fought in world war two, earned medals which she still proudly wears hoofing it through the snow. This generation dies out world wide, its only america who doesnt have another to replace it.

My grandfather’s father died in a car crash while driving with he and his mother down a highway. My grandfather was onthe passanger side as a drunk driver listed over into the oncoming lane…

Taken from the strongest russian women on the edge:
http://englishrussia.com/?p=2363

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Early morning VH1 is dominated by mass block 80s music video shows. Normally they don’t fit a certain genere or keyword, but this morning I would say they follow the “american dream” vien right to the hearts of many would-be generation Xers and their older brothers the whatever we call 40 somethings.

In short, those of us who remeber 80s music from the billboard charts and not from popular television using songs to fill the emotonal guage of consumer drive. Wow that sounds harsh, almost like I had a dislike for the sopranos final ending and every guy and gal for the past 3 years singing “dont stop beliving” on guitar hero and live at your local Kare-ee-okie dokie.

As a matter fact (and this a “matter of public fact and record” not just an expression) the VH1 channel’s 80’s block is very sufisticated. Because music is nothing if you don’t own it and make it part of your identity right? Right, so for every song.. no matter what.. it could be “wanted” by bon jovi, “jack and diane” by mellon camp or yes even the rush balad “don’t stop beliving” is avalible for quick insertion on your cellphone in the form of a ring tone.

This is brilliant… you hear the song and remeber “fuck that was a good song.. man Im going to download that by itunes later to rock out on my iphone with” then BAM the small add in the left corner makes its self known.. announcing with fury and flight across the screen as 3d BLOCKS meld to form the words “Download to your cell phone now, TXT WANTED439843 to VH1 RINGTONS”.

Won’t my friends be suprised when my I set the ringer to interupt my 11:30 business meeting with the rounds of bon jovi. The clients will look, my boss will perk his ears up and the by the time they get to the “WANTED… WANTED… DEAD OR ALIVE” I will be cupping my phone to my head and walking out making small talk with the IMAGINARY version of my Wife asking me to call her back… “it’s inportant”. Ill remeber that one. Good going Vh1.

If only I could watch rock of love or for the love of ray-j and have the same friendly add space come to life with promises of easy woman or “sluts.. 2 holes no waiting” ads. That would be bliss… Sitting there alone.. I hear the sound of my ring tone grow ever loader in the empty room… the words “Don’t stop… beliving …” play before I click the call on… oh good its my call girl and he’s ready to jersy rock my brains out.. big hair and all.

written but not spell checked.. (how lazy is it.. I can’t be bothered to hit a button)

As we become more opened up and aware of the digital layer forming in our lives. Taboos are the first to come to light and become exposed to the wider digitally enabled public. One of these taboos is suicide.

The subject of death and the right to decide whether or not to “take your own life” is a taboo in our culture. As thought based beings everyone has pondered the question “should I be here?” once or twice. This isn’t related to depression, but instead the question itself. If I am here then I continue down this path. If I am not here I don’t. This seems like a simple decision when taking our own feelings into consideration. Of course its not our own person answer to that question that counts, but the answer given by our outer cultural group. The way Americans handle suicide is different because of the perceived reactions by our culture.

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