Ration Reality

Timothy Leary:
Invented LSD, wrote computer science textbooks, performed with Skinny Puppy. 

Timothy Francis Leary was born October 22, 1920 in Springfield, MA. His childhood and adolescence were wrought with discipline issues, though he eventually went to college and then served in the US Army during World War II, eventually earning a Bachelor’s degree in Psychology from the University of Alabama during his stint. His Ph.D. came from the University of California at Berkeley. Leary married and had 2 children with his first wife, who offed herself in 1955, making him the coolest single parent in the school system. It also left Leary disillusioned and atheistic.

Leary eventually landed in the faculty of Harvard and studied in great detail the behavioral model known as the Interpersonal Circumplex. (A more complex, updated model that Dr. Tim designed would come to be known as the Leary Circumplex.) It was during his time at Harvard that Leary enshined himself as a hero to the counterculture when he learned about Lysergic Acid Diethylamide–known to most as LSD or “acid” and known to this writer as “yellow-blotter-nightmare-fuel”. His hypothesis was that LSD might help alcoholics in recovery and reform criminals. His studies not only proved the hypothesis, but showed that acid made Grateful Dead concerts infinitely more interesting and caused brown fringe leather jackets to “look groovy”. Leary even stated the profundity of his own acid trips convinced him once and for all that there was a God. The joy of his breakthrough was short-lived, as Harvard booted his hippy ass soon thereafter. (more…)

An End Of The Year Editorial On The State of the American Mind:
Looking At Our Lives
or
I’m Not A Drunk, You Are

There are too many moments these days where I cannot recognize you.

I appreciated you drunkenly pulling me aside this New Years Eve in the safety of your vomit-spewed bathroom to tell me that I have a drinking problem.

Well sure, I seemed to have been functioning well during the office Christmas party, when in fact I had been in a zombiefied black-out vodka state, and yes I kissed the departing CEO of the company on the lips on a dare, and yes I vomited all over the subway platform on the way home in the early evening…

But I think it’s imperative for you to know that, in this relationship, it is in fact YOU who are the drunk.

I may have gotten us forcibly removed from several watering holes by very large black bouncers, but I want you to note something about my drunkeness and your drunkeness.

I don’t sit at home sobbing to myself, complaining about life, and polishing off two bottles of wine all by myself like you do. (more…)

We’re back from vacay! We missed you so very much! I’ve got a little piece of original fiction for you, and this time, it’s family-friendly. 

“Please take me home.”

Jasper continued watching the late movie.

“I miss my family. Please take me home.”

Jasper tried to not hear the voice. He told himself it was his conscience. Maybe he’d snapped, gone nuts, flipped. Somehow, that made him feel better. But he knew that wasn’t right, because if he had gone crazy, then he’d believe that the television was crying, which it most certainly was not. It couldn’t be. TVs don’t care if they’re stolen. And if they did care, they wouldn’t keep you up all night whining about it.

“I want to go home. It’s no fun being stolen.”

The television wasn’t aware of anything. It didn’t know when Jasper was in the room, or when he went to bed. And it most definitely did not know when he spoke to it. No way, no how. It was all just coincidence. Or guilt. Or he was crazy. Jasper wanted so much for someone to come and tell him he was crazy, so he could stop worrying about it. (more…)

Since RR will be taking a few days to celebrate Christmas and New Years, we thought we’d leave you with a few vids to get you in the spirit, Ration Reality-style! (Read only one each day–that way, it’ll seem like we’re continuing to post things daily, even when we’re getting wasted on egg nog and Everclear.) (more…)

Am I dying, or is this my birthday?
- Last words of Lady Nancy Astor

It’s muh birthday, and it’s (probably) not yours! It’s also winter solstice. That’s right kids, my fucking birthday falls on the shortest day of the year. Thanks, mom.

My chiropractor sent me a Happy Birthday postcard, offering me a free adjustment. Now my mailman knows it’s my birthday. Wanna know what I really want for my bday? I want that to not creep me out so much. Also, world peace or some other do-goodery like that.

Meanwhile, click this here handy randomizer and leave me lots of comments all over my blog, k?

My party is going to be after Christmas…I expect it will go a lil somethin like this: (more…)

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Deviant wrote this for us, because he’s such a wonderful person
(but he’s  got problems)

In the year 1972, David Jones revealed Himself as David Bowie AKA Ziggy Stardust, the leper messiah from another planet. This was before the internet, so you can imagine that it was a very big deal. People back then were ignorant, and so it was widely believed that David Bowie was indeed a space alien, especially since He looked like this:

Where is your God now?

David Bowie single-handedly invented homosexuality in the early 70’s with His glam-era albums Ziggy Stardust And The Spiders from Mars, Aladdin Sane and Diamond Dogs. (more…)

 A merry follow up to LolKill: Like LolCats, but deader

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 Saturday, I made a last.fm account (go be my friend, loser). I’m not sure what I think about it yet, except that it showed me this:

Pantera’s Fucking Hostile - An asspie’s interpretation
A broken pikachu, Heir Fritz, the outer toe! (more…)

The Earth is suffocating… Swear to make them cut me open, so that I won’t be buried alive.
– Last words of Frederic Chopin

My mother and I have always had a difficult relationship. Mostly because we’re both evil, controlling bitches.  When I was 13, I “came out” to her, just to make her cry. She didn’t.  She said something like “so I guess you won’t be needing your birth control refilled.” (more…)