Below are the 7 most recent journal entries recorded in Zaitsev's LiveJournal:

Saturday, June 23rd, 2007
8:27 am	Well! What can I say, really? It's been a long time since I chose to update this little atrocity, and many things have happened in the world. Originally I had developed this journal to unleash sarcastic doom upon all subjects that I despise, but this noble cause has been somewhat sidelined by a number of things, including but not limited to exhaustion, ghosts, and the resurgence of Dread C'thulhu. I have, however, made a decision to alter the nature of this Livejournal. It shall now operate, I think, as a running commentary on world events. By using it in such a manner you readers can hear less about me and more about stupid people. Talking about stupid people... Al Gore. How does it feel Al? How does it feel to know that you spent a number of years trying to convince the world that global warming is caused by emissions from humans, only for modern scientists to suddenly discover that this may not be so? How does it feel to have converted global warming into a dogma that scientists everywhere are afraid to challenge for fear of ridicule and isolation from the scientific community? I speak of cosmic rays, and I speak of Henrik Svenmark. Henrik's studies have essentially established a fantastic correlation between solar activity, cosmic rays, and the creation of clouds. In times of peak solar activity a great number of cosmic rays reach the Earth. Since cosmic rays are directly related to the creation of clouds, more cosmic rays means more clouds. More clouds reflect more light, and the Earth gets cooler. In recent years solar activity has dropped and cloud cover has decreased. There is a direct correlation between solar activity and global temperature, leading some scientists to conclude that the Sun may be almost completely to blame for global warming. I think I shall go and build a machine whose only purpose is to devour fossil fuels. Maybe develop an enormous coal fired power plant, doused in gasoline and oil, and use the energy to power my iPod. What say you, citizens of the word? So... Moving on to World News. What the shit is going on in the Middle East? Every time I check the news, there is some crazy shit going down in the Middle East. Car bombs, truck bombs, bomb bombs, jew bombs, laser bombs, explosives, incendiary weapons, and even, ROADSIDE BOMBS. You know, we do get used to that after a while. It is what I suppose the war in Iraq and Afghanistan is like. I imagine it much like an enormous game of Worms. "Staff Sergeant, lob a grenade with 63 angle and 211 power!" "Yes sir!" -boom- "Did we get him?" "Quickly, Muhammad! Unleash the homing nuclear missile! 58 angle! 58!" And on and on it goes, one side unleashing state of art technology and the other side throwing rocks or camels or something. I'm pretty sure Bin Laden has a cow throwing catapult. Then we go to Israel, where a real party has been going on. Hamas and Fatah have been, erm, not on the best of terms lately. I think they both decided to simultaneously destroy their fledgling government, perhaps so that they could turn it into a video game sometime in the future. I wouldn't be surprised. Is it only me that sees tremendous irony in Hamas saying that they are committed to peace, while simultaneously firing off rockets at Israel and arming their special Hamas-Soldiers ($3.95 at Wal-Mart). Speaking of the Middle East, I remember perhaps the funniest thing that they have ever done. Do you all remember that disaster with the cartoons? You know, those innocent artists engaging in their right to free speech? Well, I remember seeing a hilarious image whose startling irony would embed itself in my soul forever. It was a picture of a group of Muslims in London, or Dutchland, or something. Maybe they were in R'lyeh, for all I care. One of them was holding a poster. "Behead Those Who Say Islam Is A Violent Religion". The lolercoaster was thus set in motion, and has since never stopped. (Comment on this)
Sunday, April 1st, 2007
10:52 am	OH SNAP! Hello Gentlemen! It's been quite a while since I updated my little journal here. At first it was all, "OH SNAP YO I GOT A LIVEJOURNAL". The initial euphoria wore off. I started to realize that I had other things to do other than, you know, post on my livejournal. So, about all the stuff that happened since I last posted. I can't really remember all of it. I remember the musical and some crazy shit I did with my friends. Let's discuss the musical! It was an interesting and awkward experience. After so much singing and dancing I felt like a little weird. After devoting my life to the cultivation of pessimism and doomfullness all this cheeriness was a bit much. I became mildly emotional at the thought of this being my last show with all those crazy drama club bastards. I quickly killed a kitten to regain the ground I had lost in terms of negativity. It was a ton of fun, I must admit. The cast party was hilarious. Louis Rocco was there. His presence combined with mine meant that we could essentially find hilarity out of anything. Especially Mexicans. We spent the evening drinking heavily (coke, I swear!) and cracking offensive jokes at every possible ethnicity seated at our table. Those are the moments that make life worthwhile, you know? No, you don't know. Shut up. (Insert Cunning Transition into New Subject) Fight Night is a great game. I spent perhaps a half hour trying to defeat James. I was playing as Ivan Drago (custom character, bitch) while James was Muhammad Ali. Seeing as I had no knowledge of how to actually play the game, I used the standard tactic with which I almost defeated Dave Poon. PRESS A I fucking haymakered him. I bet I did it seventy times. Every time he'd stumble I would move in for the kill. James would just keep moving back, and I could never catch him. Then he would clinch, recover energy, and we'd resume the exchange of blows and comments on sexual preference and deeds committed with one's mother. Sample convo: "Oh! Knock out!" "I had sex with your mother." "Shit." Wars are won and lost with arguments like those. If Fight Night wasn't frustrating enough, later on (a week or two) I decided to try playing Rainbow Six with James, Kevin, and David. We spent two hours on the same level just trying to win. After perhaps three hundred attempts we fucking gave up. I was getting really, really pissed. Several times we came within 2 enemies of completing the mission. I'm pretty confident that the game is designed so that you die when you get that close to actually winning. For example, James and I are both alive and we're about to win. The fucking wall explodes. Next match, we die immediately because some crazy Mexican threw a grenade before we could even switch weapons. Then, seven guys jumped out of a corner and demolished us. Funniest moment came when we were attacked by this "lone avenger". He didn't really attack, though. James and I were at opposite sides of this small room when this guy just walks in. Fully armed, he ignores us and shuffles toward the exit. We are shooting like crazy, missing every time, and the guy just keeps walking. Right after we actually killed him we cracked up laughing for a good five minutes. Man, that game is fucked up. I was accepted to American University and UMass Amherst. Amherst gave me a generous aid package. American University essentially flipped me off. They counted work study and loans as "aid", like most colleges, so my real grants came out to be worth less than my monthly salary. That was a monumental exaggeration, but whatever. It wasn't enough by any measure of the imagination, and I am not going to sell my platinum teeth to get enough money for college. I was denied to Dickinson College and Georgetown College. No surprises there. When I got the letter from Georgetown I sat down, depressed and moody, and pondered my fate. Then, in a flash of tangible inspiration, the answer came to me. "Fuck Georgetown." (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Thursday, March 8th, 2007
11:05 pm	Mundane Things There hasn't really been much of anything going on this week. Mundane things have been available in copious quantities. I complete the daily ritual of hitting my alarm clock at 6 to tell it to shut up. Then I hit it again, every five minutes, until 6:30, when I realize that if I don't get up I'll be stuck waiting for the bus at my absurdly windy, Arctic Science Station, until well past 7:30. Others call it the bus stop, but who cares about them? I like riding the bus in the morning. The same angry, exhausted people sitting in the same angry, exhausted seats with their angry, exhausted friends. Very few people talk. Most of them glare at the windshield, which remains indomitable to their attacks. Oh, I love that bus. Comparatively quiet and quite warm. I can listen to my music in peace. Oh yeah. Then those losers come on the bus somewhere between my house and Medford High. I fail to notice them at first. Then they start talking in increasingly loud tones about all their "mad cocaine skills" and the fact that they are "nasty wid da wimminz." They also conclude that their clothing is "sick". Occasionally they talk very loudly about illegal activities. I pray that the fat chick beside me is an undercover cop. My prayers are usually unanswered. GOD, YOU MUST BE SLEEP! Oh yeah! Up the hill, defying gravity, going to Medford High! My school is so inviting and attractive that school buses full of convicts are dropped off as drivers mistake it for a FUCKING PRISON. True story. If you substitute "true" with "absolutely fabricated but nevertheless based on the ugliness of a real building." I have a daily routine. Walk down to Heinegg's room, enter, look for Andrew Casey. If he's there, hit him. If not, sit down and listen to Kevin, Dave, and Billy, talk. Occasionally intervene. If Andrew Casey has not yet arrived, I wait so that I can hit him. If I can't hit him I hit Kevin. I am afraid that one day his reactive force will destroy my fist. He has the density of a fuckin' black hole, that Kevin. Yes, it is a fallacy. I don't care. See? These are mundane things. The only interesting things are the occasional fire drills. I like to step outside in short sleeves and laugh at all the cold people. Moments later I realize I am freezing but am too arrogant to admit it. Nice. Sixth Period is my favorite time of the day. Whenever I can I do my work first and get a Pass. Normally I do one of two things. Usually I go to the library and do nothing. More recently I jog around the third floor, looking for things to do. Then the second floor. Then the first. Usually there is nothing, so I end up in the room of the eminent J Woods. There I spend my time making awful but nevertheless funny jokes and being politically incorrect. Good times. I have an interesting anecdote concerning 6th Period. There was a time in 2nd Quarter when I was so furious with one of my classes that I was unable to control my malicious side at all. After a series of brutally scathing comments, Mr. Blauch gave me a pass to the library. Told me to leave! Me! How dare he? Naturally, I was pleased with myself. I approached the stairs thinking "Ha! Look at him, thinking he's exerting his rule over me! I'll show him. I'll go read fucking Time magazine. Can't stop me. I'm unstoppable. Oh yeah." The stairs had a less than favorable view of my arrogance. I promptly took one step down, slipped, and came crashing down on my ankle. I was in excruciating pain. I heard someone approaching. I immediately put my books down and pretended to be looking for something while whistling a casual tune. The person walked away. It hurt as much as being dipped in glue... ...and then dipped in spikes! Oh man, Karma left me no dignity that day. (Comment on this)
Sunday, March 4th, 2007
8:56 am	ROFLDRAMAFESTLOL The title says it all, ladies and gentlemen. I spent my entire day on Saturday at Weston High School. I can't say that it was a good experience. I can't say that it was a bad experience. I can say that I am too arrogant to accept defeat! Fuck you, Swampscott. Yeah. You. A vast majority were, at the very least, endurable. Sure there were some catastrophes, but that happens every time. There was one play called The Chairs. The best description I have ever heard for this show was "mind rape". Oh yeah. I agree with that one hundred percent. Jesus Christ (who I'll get to later)! What a weird show. It starts off with this old lady riding a tricycle in circles around some chairs. My initial reaction was one of awe and whatthefuckery. I slowly became convinced that the delicious brownie I had purchased had originated in Amsterdam, and that I was now quite high. There was no other logical explanation for the experience I was having at that time. Oh, The Chairs had it all. Invisible ensemble! Old woman flirting with a member of the invisible ensemble! Techno robot music! Flashing lights! Totally unintelligible dialogue! Yeah! And some deaf and mute guy in a dark suit. He wrote "angelbread" on a board and proceeded to leave the stage. I would have applauded for the play if I wasn't paralyzed from the absolute confusion it created. I spent the entire play exchanging expressions of shock and confusion with AJ, alternating between confusion, hilarity, and an overall desire to go light the set on fire. If I ever see that play again it will be too fucking soon. Good acting. Nice set. Interesting lighting and music. Overall grade should be in the B+ range. Factoring in the confusion factor forces a significant deduction. D-, or Suckage+, depending on whether you are in Europe or the States. Then we had some other...gems, shall we say? I had serious issues with just about every show except Winners. That play was crackin', to use a colloquialism. It had everything a good show should have. It had an actor and an actress! It had four commentators sitting so stiffly they must have had sticks up their asses! Love and death! Philosophy and tragedy! It was the Irish accents that made it the best show. Not going to lie. And then Malden Catholic decided to put on a play about my favorite Rabbi ever! Jesus! It was called The Last Apostle and it was plagued with a swarm of suck topped off with a smattering of awful and smothered in delicious fudgelike terribleness. I don't think i've ever seen a more terrible anything since I watched my little brother try to read Shakespeare. He's eight. It was an original (suck) play, and you could tell. The dialogue was a little (enormously) choppy. One of the only good actors in the show, the only good actor in fact, appeared to be having his lines fed to him. Nice. Not exactly his fault, since apparently he had been thrown into the show two days before it went on, but it did contribute to the awful factor. Not by much, though, because he had some acting skills. They tried to represent a campfire during one of their scenes. I have a strong suspicion that they went to a generic party store and picked up one of those Halloween "dancing flame" things. If not, then they made it themselves out of a color tinted light bulb and some copy paper. That shit be cracklin', yo. If I was a teacher I would have given that entire play an F+. I demand that I have the 39:46 of my life back. Please. I could have used that time to watch Passion of the Christ by Antisemite McIHateJews. At least our hosts were cool. I'm still a bad person. Good thing nothing has changed! (Comment on this)
Friday, March 2nd, 2007
9:50 pm	Life is so weird I'm serious, and I think everyone knows that. Life is just so fuckin' weird. Example: Health class today. I'm sitting next to a young man that I know relatively well. He's a lacrosse player by the name of Wesley. He just happens to be quite funny and amusingly perceptive. Also, he's a blatant but awesome jock-type fellow. I don't even know how I was able to establish a positive, friendly relationship with someone like him. Just another one of my many useful talents, I guess (arrogance speaking). Normally we discuss the usual issues of teenage conversation: school sucks, alcohol, colleges, and music. Today, though, was completely different. I start off by berating him about not bringing me the CDs he promised to bring me. I reference his ethnic background and his orange hair as signs of inferiority. He favors me with a look of bland incomprehension. Business as usual. Nice. A few minutes later he leans over and asks me a question. "Do you ever wonder what happens to you after you die?" (paraphrase, but good enough) I look over at him and promptly beat him to death with a soldering iron. Well, not really. I was so surprised that I probably would have if the room had been conveniently empty, the murder weapon nearby (and some gloves!), and I had enough robots to clean up the mess. NO way a jock is going to catch me off guard with a question. God damn it, that's just what he did. Naturally, I proceeded to give him a complex explanation on the principles of life and death and of matter and the quantum world. He was so dumbfounded he almost cried. Take that, bitch. It is a serious topic. What does happen to you after you die? I happen to have a complex answer to this question. Enjoy: Arcanewrath (10:11:30 PM): Hey you! Arcanewrath (10:11:38 PM): What happens to people after they die? Arcanewrath (10:11:42 PM): Is there life after death? Arcanewrath (10:11:52 PM): Can we possibly achieve immortality? xgreengnosisx (10:11:53 PM): who is this Arcanewrath (10:12:00 PM): I very much agree. Arcanewrath (10:12:04 PM): But you didn't answer my question. xgreengnosisx (10:12:13 PM): what the fuck Arcanewrath (10:12:29 PM): Why won't you answer me? Arcanewrath (10:12:39 PM): You don't know, do you? xgreengnosisx (10:12:40 PM): WHO ARE YOU!? xgreengnosisx (10:12:56 PM): I would be happy to answer your questions if you tell me who you are. Arcanewrath (10:12:59 PM): The surveyor of darkness.' Arcanewrath (10:13:03 PM): They call me Vlad. xgreengnosisx (10:13:05 PM): But you're just being pushy and rude. xgreengnosisx (10:13:13 PM): Oh yeah? Arcanewrath (10:13:15 PM): Or Richard Simmons, on some occaions. Arcanewrath (10:13:16 PM): Oh yes. Arcanewrath (10:13:22 PM): I don't remember how I got this IM. Arcanewrath (10:13:28 PM): I think I know you. xgreengnosisx (10:13:28 PM): How about your real name, the one on your birth certificate. Arcanewrath (10:13:38 PM): Vladimir G. Zaitsev. xgreengnosisx (10:13:57 PM): where are you from Arcanewrath (10:13:59 PM): Do you know anybody from MHS? Arcanewrath (10:14:02 PM): I that how I know you? xgreengnosisx (10:14:18 PM): MHS? Arcanewrath (10:14:31 PM): Medford High School! Arcanewrath (10:14:32 PM): Jesus. Arcanewrath (10:14:44 PM): What are you smoking, bananas? xgreengnosisx (10:14:53 PM): I dont know what the fuck that is Arcanewrath (10:14:54 PM): Maybe I know you from somewhere else. xgreengnosisx (10:14:56 PM): fuck you asshole Arcanewrath (10:14:58 PM): I got your AIM somehow. Arcanewrath (10:15:02 PM): And I've spoken to you before. Arcanewrath (10:15:11 PM): I really can't remember... xgreengnosisx (10:15:19 PM): your name is not vladmir Arcanewrath (10:15:22 PM): Yes it is. Arcanewrath (10:15:28 PM): I'm a Ukranian, from Kiev. xgreengnosisx (10:15:31 PM): dude you're so full of shit Now that is a different perspective. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Thursday, March 1st, 2007
9:57 pm	"Other Perspectives" Massachusetts sometimes depresses in that it can be too liberal. It can be so liberal that you just want to move down South to cleanse yourself of it. And that's a terrible thing. Moving down South, that is. Ever seen the Family Guy episode? Yeah? You know what I mean. No? Too bad. I'm not going to go through the trouble to make extra analogies and references just to please you. Punk. So here's my problem: Too much literature that revolves around racism, and we get desensitized. I'm not saying that racism is a subject that we should ignore. Not even I am that terrible (in public). But really, too much is too much. There are limits to the amount of times I can read books with just about the same theme before I go insane. I was tempted the other day by the sinister hand of the Devil to stop by Barnes and Noble and buy a few hundred copies of The Bluest Eye by the inimitable Toni Morrison. I then planned to either (donate) burn them in an enormous bonfire, or give a copy to every homeless person who asked me for change. Multiple copies, if necessary. I quickly realized that I could spend my money on better things. That is the message of this story. There are much better things to read than that awful book. What's even worse is that we compound reading that book with our near constant reading of other racially themed books. Uncle Tom's Cabin was forced on us last year, as well as the Maya Angelou novel I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings. I could deal with that. At least one of those two was somewhat well written. For a fun filled night of entertainment for the whole family, try to guess which one! More exciting than watching paint dry, or mowing the lawn in 110 degree weather! I think we understand now, us Medford students. Racism is bad. Like, really. Really. It's not like we studied slavery in US History ever since we started taking Social Studies in middle school. It's definitely not a fact that we have already read multiple books about racial prejudice directed towards blacks and other minorities. No, not at all. I must concede a point, however. All authors have different perspectives, and topics as complex as racism have many facets that can be explored in hundreds of novels. If only the ones we read weren't the same damn thing over and over! The caged bird book? Young black girl gets raped by her mother's boyfriend. Toni Morrison's unforgettable classic? Young black girl gets raped by her father near the end of the book. The Color Purple? Young black girl gets raped by her father on the first page. The first f&*%ing page! Ah! Ah, I get it. The major differences are in who rapes who, and in ,what segment of the book. Aha. That is why we consistently reread what appears to be the same cookie cutter book, creatively arranged and written using AAVE. Don't know what AAVE is? You don't want to. I'll get to that later, and god damn will I do my best to tear it apart. Don't think I don't respect the authors, though. I respected them enough to insert HTML and italicize the names of their works. Oh, I respect them all right. You can't even know how much I respect them. My complaint lies in the fact that if you present books with the same themes over and over again to irritable teenagers they will likely get desensitized and tired of it. It simply gets boring. You may think it terrible, but I know it is true. I happen to be one of said teenagers. Why not read more books about racial prejudice toward Hispanics and Asians? Why not read about prejudice toward the Irish when they first arrived? Prejudice is a fact and a terrible thing that should be removed. All people need to be conscious of it. But please, don't try to drown me in it. I'm pretty sure there was some rape in Their Eyes Were Watching God too. Not 100% sure though. It might have been something unique to that book among all the others we've read, like incest. Oh wait! (1 Comment |Comment on this)
4:45 am	Oh my! I finally got a LiveJournal. Looks like I might be catching up with times, you know? I'm no longer the archaic old fool I used to be, now that I have one of these. It's brand spanking new, too. I guarantee it. Or, at least, LiveJournal had better guarantee it. Truthfully speaking, who would want a used LiveJournal? The concept is depressing. Like children, elevator music, and international conflicts. The Big Question is: Hey Vlad, why did you start this embarrassment to mankind that you call a journal? I could tell you, but instead i'll let the Jews take the fall for it. It was, technically, their fault. Let's move off of that topic and move on to the purpose of this new and wonderful blog which shall be only irregularly updated! It's called the Sardonic Weekly, for those of you who pay attention. I doubt it will be weekly. Maybe biweekly. Or triweekly. Or never. I'll never know for sure. Reader, do not be disheartened! No! What I shall leave out in my lack of a fixed schedule I shall make up with quality! The quality (or lack thereof) of my assessments (dubious, at best) will definitely cause you to burst into streams of laughter (and then feel really bad about it). At my worst and best, I am a philosopher. Whoever is reading this might expect to receive a heavy dose of Nietzchian philosophy in the near future. If you don't happen to be ready, I may have to reach through the Internet and "bust a cap in your ass." For those of you not versed in street language, this means "fire projectiles at accelerated rates into your rear." For those of you who can't understand either, it means "shoot you in the ass". Some of you will be too inept to understand any of those three and will therefore most likely be illiterate! On a side note, this blog is not blind people or uneducated people friendly. Until they invent a machine which creates braille patterns on your keyboard you, my blind friend, are out of luck. Until I can learn not to speak like a pompous, overly literate ass you, my uneducated friend, are out of luck. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing, really. This blog will be translated into thirty eight different languages, including African, where it will be sold in book form. The title, as agreed with my publishers, will be "Stable Economies? Shit, no!" Guaranteed 100% to infuriate like no other. Except maybe Bill Gates. How dare he go and try to cure malaria! Doesn't he know that its a cultural thing over there? Uneducated, culturally barren billionaire. Sickening. Absolutely appalling. As bad as stapling condom instructions to the actual condoms! Way to go, World Health Organization! Rock on, United Nations! I don't know if they were responsible, but who cares? Not me, clearly. That entire rant was a sort of welcome note. It will only get better from here. Oh yeah. Peace out, my gangster compatriots. Current Mood: contemplative (Comment on this)