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B.I.T.C.H.I.N.G. (Board of Individual Thoughts, Cares, Hopes, Ideals N Goals), LLC.

To: Society Itself
385 Life Ave
Earth

Notice to Cease and Desist

Dear Society,

It has come to our attention that our client, BakedBigfoot, has been recently overwhelmed by excessive vexation and misguided prudence from affiliated members of your party. Having the responsibility to protect and represent his best interests and spirit, we politely, yet assertively, ask that you consider to cease the following.

1) Making inquisitive or pressing remarks regarding BakedBigfoot's future plans for employment and / or study. As an individual, he carries the right to choose for himself what he wants to do with his life and what his passions are. He holds no interest in your party's ideals of monetary success nor their pressing agenda to populate the planet.

2) Asking him to adopt thought patterns certified and approved by the Department of Conformity. BakedBigfoot has never held concrete affiliation with this organization and reserves the right not to do so, as long as his interests don't interfere with public safety. He has demonstrated this and is therefore protected under the Court of Humanity.

3) Asking to repress / ignore thoughts not certified by the Department of Conformity. As our private investigators have proven, BakedBigfoot has been consistently following and upholding the safety guidelines put in place by social distancing. However, he reserves the right to feel concern and advocate for the millions of individuals who have lost their jobs and businesses due to this tragedy. Empathy does not warrant ignorance.

We appreciate you taking the time to read this and hope you will take our advice to heart. We are well aware that our client has a lengthy history of bounced reality checks, however we assure you that crushing his spirit and desire to express himself will not fix this problem. We wish you a nice day and hope to reestablish diplomatic ties with your party in the near future.

Sincerely,

Daniel D. Angst, Attorney in Law

Current Mood: drained
Current Music: Lo Fi

I haven't posted on this page for such a long time, but I guess that's a good thing? I used to post here because I was upset and felt lost, but now that I'm virtually living what I had dreamed of doing since last year, there's nothing much to complain about. Of course, this program holds its own challenges, but at the end of the day, dealing with a flat tire is much more manageable than being stuck at the bottom of a well, metaphorically speaking.

I find it hard to describe just how amazing this journey has been. You go from leaving sunny So Cal to arriving at an ice-glazed prairie, watching in both awe and horror as you observe semi trucks trying to make it up a simple incline, all in the while their tires are slipping as they struggle to gain traction. From then you meet people from parts of the country you hadn't even considered, after three weeks of training that feels like a month you're off to your first project with your team. There's simply so much detail I couldn't describe it in one entry, if I want to wake up tomorrow. From Pennsylvania to Michigan, and now soon to Nebraska.

However, I don't scorn over my peers anymore. I've gained the life experience and confidence to go my own path in life, and I'll leave them with the freedom to do so with theirs.

All in all, I felt that it was important to give a quick update, not for any particular reason however. I've explained in my past posts how journaling can be reductive for me, however lately I've felt that I should write down at least something.

I do want to write down and archive personal stories that I've had from this program however, before they become lost and I don't remember them. Either way, I'll keep you guys updated.

So there's a video that I hadn't watched for years, that I'd like to share with you all. On Sunday night, while typing away an essay for my English class, I came across a video that I hadn't watched for ages. It's titled "Gothic King Cobra", and it's a documentary about a man named Josh who goes by the same name. The documentary follows him around throughout approximately a day of his life, and the audience gets a glimpse into the internet persona's personality, philosophy and backstory. As a naive fifteen year old when I originally watched this, I thought of it as nothing more but a boring, hour long video of someone who had too much time on his hands. However, watching it now at the ripe old age of eighteen, I was so intrigued by it that I had to actually put my essay on hold. What I discovered was that no matter if it intended to or not, this documentary gives us a detailed glimpse into the underbelly of American society, that of which is founded upon addiction, broken dreams, and an overall lack of purpose.

In order to understand the documentary itself, one must first get familiar with the main protagonist, Josh Saunders. Appearing online under the name KingCobraJFS, his sobriquet gives us his two defining traits: his gothic aesthetic and his love for cobras. In the documentary, he comes across as eccentric and deviant, however humorous and even somewhat charming. He aspires to be a musician, and his dream abode is a kickass gothic mansion nestled in the woods. He's got big aspirations, however his lifestyle and social circle seem to contradict them. As we'll see, his hometown, Casper, Wyoming, appears to be a rather bleak place, with its inhabitants reflecting the town's doldrums-esque atmosphere and community.

The documentary starts off with a homeless man giving his praise for the legendary Josh Saunders. The vagrant claims to have done three tours in Iraq, however his rotund figure and lack of personal tales beg the differ. After he gives us his appraisal, we follow the Cobra King himself into a liquor store, and see him pick out a bottle of jagermeister and a carton of cigarettes. As he drinks outside with his destitute friend, the man of stolen valor makes a bold statement. "You call that art? Sleeping behind a building, and waking up, with no money, that's art". He goes on to make threatening insults to the cameraman. On a personal note, perhaps if you're fried to the cerebellum on research chemicals then maybe being the town drunkard can seem like an artistic endeavor. However, anyone below 0.08% on the breathalyzer test knows that living such a lifestyle is called being a fuck-up. Not saying there's nothing romantic with the idea of taking on the world without shelter and material possessions, however there's definitely nothing beautiful about being intoxicated to the point where you're making half-witted insults at someone you don't know.

From there, we follow Josh from a brisk walk across town to the local mall, where we meet two of his pals, both of which are arguably middle to early high school age. They rap, beatbox, and take off their shirts all within sight of the public eye. Note that through their foul language, inappropriate discussion and their drug-themed beats, their personality seems to strongly reflect that of Josh's.

Afterwards, Josh is interviewed at a local park at duskfall. This is where it gets interesting, because the audience is given the opportunity to learn about the Cobra King himself. Through (possibly fabricated) anecdotes and opinions, we learn more about his life. From there, we're taken to a parking lot, a retail store, and an interview with a supermarket worker who knows a necrophiliac, all in the dark shroud of nighttime. A notable feature of these scenes is when Josh shows the camera a lewd-looking tattoo on his arm, which is actually comprised of two symbols which he believes are ideas that are intertwined with each other. He bases his own personal religion off of this, and it's an essential piece of Cobra lore. To tell the truth, this is what I believe differentiates Josh from the rest of his acquaintances. He's got some sense of faith, and although it doesn't necessarily provide a sense of purpose it gives some meaning to his life.

After his brief sermon, Josh goes on to explain his backstory and how his parents found out he was diagnosed with Asperger's. The documentary transitions to the next day, where we see Josh back at his grind. He rides his bike around town, browses a halloween shop, meets up with the stolen-valor vagrant, and converses with a drug dealer. Afterwards, he tops the afternoon off with his routine activity, smoking and drinking outside the local supermarket. This time, however, he's accompanied by a different friend, who's on probation for the next nineteen days. From there on, we're led to a brief nighttime stroll, a phonecall with his girlfriend, and then the final chapter of the documentary.

The camera man follows Josh as they walk along a railroad track. "Just another day in Casper.", he says as he lights a cigarette. He talks about how he met his girlfriend at Jobcorps and their erotic love escapades throughout the institution, where he eventually got kicked out after being caught smoking marijuana. After a few minutes of free-style rap, we're given the final scene: Josh's phallic-shaped emblem made of fire burning in the snow. From there on, the documentary ends.

So what makes this documentary so special? To start, it's overall aesthetic and musical score seem to capture his life perfectly. The crescendo-less score, combined with the ever-stretching landscapes of Casper add to the aimlessness of Josh's lifestyle. The grayed, washed-out coloration of the documentary allows the audience to grasp how bleak of a cesspool his town actually is. While the film's art style is truly something to behold, it doesn't overshadow the grim theme of it all.

It's safe to say that judging by his daily behaviors and social circle, Josh's life has reached a point of stagnation. Being kept at rock bottom by his acquaintances, Josh's chances of doing something with himself seem anything but likely. As a matter of fact, his current videos on his youtube channel have proven this to be true. Nothing has changed with Josh, except for the fact that he's broken up with his girlfriend and he talks considerably slower, most likely due to excessive drinking and drug use throughout the years.

This documentary sticks with me. As someone who's fresh out of high school and is finding out his path in life, I've seen too many of my peers stray off the road to success and fall into hedonistic purgatory, and this documentary encapsulates it perfectly. Gothic King Cobra is what happens to you when you fail out of high school, never get a job or stay in community college for too long. It shows us how substances can give us the feeling that we're going somewhere while keeping us in the same spot; a lesson I learned the hard way over the summer. Most of all, it shows us that we're responsible for our own destiny and character, which I believe is what a lot of people, including myself don't realize into reality hits us. It's a grim reminder that if we don't forge a purpose for ourselves as well as recognize our flaws, a meaningless, lethargic life is what we'll get.

I understand that I'm five days past it's intended post date, however I just wanted to give an update and say that my analysis and reflection on Gothic King Cobra is nearly complete. I've outlined all the significant parts of the documentary, all that is left is to finish my reflection, which is unfortunately hard to accomplish when enshrouded by the sleepiness that comes with midnight. However, once it's published, that's when I believe I'll start working on spreading the word about this blog. For now, however, may it stay unread!

Happy Thanksgiving!

I know that no one's really seen this journal yet, however I want to update it and let everyone know that I haven't given up on it. I'm currently working on an article about the infamous lolcow / aspiring musician Gothic King Cobra, and my personal reflection on his documentary. However, as long as there's a Team Fortress 2 server open, it's going to be hard for me to get anything done. As for right now at least, I'm fulfilling my Thanksgiving tradition of pulling an all-nighter (rules are you have to stay up until at least 4am) and so far it's going quite well. Anyways, I'm hoping to finish my article by Friday. However, at the same time I'm contemplating whether or not I should spend that day at a local mall, just to witness the hell that will ensue and maybe collect a story from it. The chances of doing that are slim though. Either way, I hope those of you that find my journal stay tuned to hear more stories from this gonzo gazette! Cheers!

Let me tell you, there are many establishments and bureaucratic systems in our society that make us want to rip our hair out. Whether it be the DMV, hair cutter's, or the overcrowded urgent care, we're reminded why living in such a populated and organized society can be a bad thing. However, there's nothing more arduous and frustrating than shopping at the retail superhell known as Kohl's.

It was 8pm last monday night, as I pulled into the cold and gusty parking lot. As I walked towards the glowing storefront, I thought about the item I had mind. It was a microfleece onesie, decorated with Christmas patterns that were so colorful that it could make even the wearer question his own sexuality. Not that I found it stylish in any manner, I was just trying to find an item that'd help me express my own festivity towards the upcoming holiday. And what better way to accomplish that, than giving to yourself? Not only that, it looked really damn comfortable, and far warmer than the t-shirts and gym shorts I've been sporting every night for as long as I can remember.

When I stepped into the store, my first motive was to locate the pajama aisle. Where was it again, near the young adult section? Nope. Perhaps back where the women's pj's are? Not there either. Goddamn, where can one find an associate in this awful store? After what must've been ten minutes of aimless wandering, I finally found the pajama section tucked snugly near the back of the establishment. Much to my avail, however, the onesie I was looking for was nowhere to be seen. I hoped that perhaps it was in another aisle. With every associate in the store hiding better than Osama bin Laden ever could, I made my way over to the store assistance counter in the back.

Once I reached the services department, I realized that my mission would be put on hold for a while. Being processed by only one lady, the line for the service department was painfully long. As a matter of fact, I would've made more progress by visiting the sweatshop that made the damn onesie rather than wait my turn in this stagnant queue.

After ten minutes of standing in line, I finally reached the counter. From there I learned that they DIDN'T carry the onesie, and that if I wanted a chance at finding anything similar to it they'd have to call an associate. After another ten minutes of waiting, an associate finally came to the back. From there, she led me to the alternatives they had in stock.

Let me just tell you how horrifying the set of PJ's she showed me were. While the ones I had eyed online looked cheesy, this set looked like it belonged on a fucking infant. Dotted with pastel bears and christmas trees, it disturbed me to think that these were advertised for adults, let alone unisex as well. The thought that there's cuckolds out there that unironically wear these made me shudder. Needless to say, I politely declined.

From there the associate led me back to where I was at square 1, the men's PJ aisle. Disappointed however not resolute, I decided to take another look at the garments they had in store. The union suits they had looked comfy, however I could imagine that spending more than thirty minutes in one would result in heat stroke in this California climate. Besides, I wasn't content with dressing up in what was basically a lazy black panther costume either. However, my eyes settled on a rack of comfy-looking sleep robes. I tried one on, and because of how well it fit I decided to buy a red plaid one.

Once I reached the checkout counter, I thought that my errand was finally over. That was until I tried to use my $10 off coupon, and the lady told me I needed $25 dollars of merchandise to use it. I was TWO DOLLARS short. Did buying food work? Of course not. Therefore, I spent another ten minutes wandering idly around the store, searching for a pair holiday socks so I could use my coupon. One thing you should know however, is that I left my coupons and robe on the checkout counter, and one of them was a $5 off coupon. An associate put these behind a counter for me, however it came with a price.

Once I found a suitable pair that said "up to snow good" (cause I'm a naughty boi), I brisked back to the counter and completed my transaction. I was relieved. After approximately an hour and forty minutes of wandering, waiting, and disappointment, I was free from the store's confines and could finally leave. It wasn't until I stepped in the car, however, that I realized that my $5 off coupon was missing. Pissed at myself, I rushed back across the parking lot and into the store.

I tried to tell the cashier about my situation, however she was helping a customer and was unable to assist me. I then talked to the lady who put my stuff behind the counter while I was gone, and she replied "I dunno, I know you had it before but I'm not sure what happened to it. It's your coupon". I guess that in customer service language, this means "Fuck you, not my problem!". I was beginning to lose my patience. After another two minutes of waiting to talk to the cashier again, I eyed a piece of paper that was laying on an empty register next to the cashier's face down. Was this it? "Fuck it", I thought. I snatched the paper, but much to my avail it was a 15% off coupon. I put it back and walked out of the store, defeated. I lost my hope, my patience and my five dollars, all thanks to that labyrinth of agonizing frustration. Fuck Kohl's, man.

Despite the experience I had, however, I must say that this robe I'm wearing is quite comfy. Maybe if I wear it long enough, it's cozy textile will wash away the angst from this hellish struggle. Either way, I'll think twice before stepping into that evil emporium again.