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Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in Tergum's LiveJournal:

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    Wednesday, November 28th, 2007
    10:00 pm
    Taxing Freedom
    Freedom isn’t free. It’s a commodity. If people are expected to ‘pay a price’, for ‘actions’, and ‘choices’, then freedom too should have a price attached to it. And that price is slavery. Or freedom taxes. By allowing people to enjoy freedom so indiscriminately in our country, we have sullied the good name of Lady Liberty. The only way to remedy the state of freedom in our country is to re-value freedom by putting a price on it. I propose that citizens should all pay freedom taxes. By valuing freedom at 50,000 dollars per citizen, I hope to allow none but the richest, most freedom loving citizens to enjoy the sweet caramel nugget that is our liberty. Citizens unable to pay freedom taxes should be enslaved so they can learn to enjoy freedom by not having it. Like wildebeests, slave-citizens will work under the yolk of anti-liberty while always casting a wistful glance to the green pastures on the other side of the forced labor camp fence. By valuing freedom with slavery, America will once again sink into the gilded bliss of the golden age of our Founding Fathers.

    Rich people are better than poor people, because rich people can enjoy freedom more than the poor. By being able to buy anything you want, and by having the liberty to live a relatively indolent life-style, rich people are able to live the American dream. Money can buy you surgical beauty, so why not freedom? With freedom taxes and a large slave labor pool I propose to make rich people even more happy and free. With the close proximity of slaves, independent citizens will always be reminded that they are happier and much more free than their slaves.

    The revenue from freedom taxes will be used to sponsor freedom infomercials and freedom advertising. Educational freedom videos will remind people that freedom isn’t free. Each freedom infomercial will be geared towards different groups, with the slavery infomercials marketed to remind slaves that they aren’t free, and with free-citizen infomercials informing free-citizens that they are not slaves. Freedom tax revenue will be used to construct freedom farms (forced labor camps), and each slave-citizen will be microchiped and collared to monitor and control behavior. Revenue will also be used to research how people can enjoy freedom in ways people have never enjoyed freedom before. Research will also be conducted to determine how freedom can be denied to slaves, and of course revenue will also be used to determine how to make better freedom infomercials.

    By commodifying freedom, I hope to allow certain levels of freedom to surface in society. 50,000 dollars should buy you only a certain level of freedom. I propose a three tiered freedom scale, with the first 50,000 dollar mark allowing people to enjoy the basic level of freedom regular citizens now enjoy, except that freedom level one citizens will have the added bonus of owning a single slave. The second level of freedom will be 500,000 dollars. Freedom level 2 citizens will enjoy all the benefits of level 1 except they will have the freedom of owning as many slaves as they wish. Freedom level 3 citizens will be taxed 10,000,000 dollars, and they will have the freedom of being able to do whatever they want. Level 3 citizens will be able to kill and otherwise savage whomever they wish at their own discretion. No law will hinder level 3 citizens and they will be able to act in complete autonomy.
    People no longer appreciate freedom in their lives because people no longer realize they have choices.

    Freedom has become abstract for most people because people choose to not make foolish decisions. Or people choose to make choices with a perspective as to how it will and will not affect future choices and freedoms. We are all faced with choices in our lives. I myself was faced with the choice recently of either writing this paper or running through the woods screaming like a wildebeest. So I ran through the woods screaming like a wildebeest. While I was running I tripped in a moment of fear inspired vertigo and I fell onto my spine. It was a most excruciating experience full of spine tingling pain. But I made the choice. Maybe it wasn’t a very good choice in retrospect, but the choice was there, and that choice, sir, was sweet! Sweeter now than it was then due to the limited mobility my spine injury has induced in me. By contrasting my loping wildebeest experience with my new found sense of impairment I am now able to fully enjoy the experience. Freedom, like anything else, can only be made sweeter by depriving people of it.

    So here I am, sitting, writing, thinking, and fingering a stomach wound caused by the indigestion of a pinecone. Imagining the golden days of my youth, when I frolicked much like a wildebeest, and when I stenciled on a piece of paper much as a wildebeest is prone to do. I was young in those days and I begin to wonder where those blissful wildebeest days went. Perhaps they went to Idaho, the sunshine state, but I know that would just be a lie. The truth is that those days flew past with a series of choices like sleeping, breathing and living. And it makes me sick to think that I’ve experienced so much freedom without the added bonus of seeing people who were not free. How can anybody stomach the sweetness of freedom without being able to cleanse their pallet with the bitterness of slavery? I think to myself how my own freedom has been compromised because I’ve taken it for granted. Without slaves, without a price, freedom has become by default worthless. Every day the enjoyment of freedom is compromised because people have nothing to contrast it too. This must stop. Freedom is far too precious to be considered as anything other than as a commodity. By quantifying freedom society can realize and enjoy the richness of what liberty can be, rather than accept the bland cheapness of a society in which everybody enjoys government sponsored equality.

    Current Mood: FREE
    Monday, February 12th, 2007
    11:27 pm
    Kevin Bacon
    In 2005 the first ever pictures of a live giant squid in its native habitat ( captured the imagination of actor/singer/songwriter Kevin Bacon. He then wrote a song about this noble giant which I assume he sings with his band: The Bacon Brothers. This is true.

    A cursory search of the internet did not immediately secure for me the lyrics of this song. So I decided to write what I suppose is a close facsimile of Kevin Bacon's giant squid song to save myself further search time and deliver said song to you, enmass.

    For the record: I took the tenants of all Kevin Bacon's creative processes are to be (in descending gravitas):

    1) Obsessive centralization on self and all things Kevon Bacon.

    2) Obsession with sodomy and witchcraft


    3) Overcompensation and obfuscation of fundamental stupidity, vis-à-vis scientific pop trivia knowledge.




    (this first bit is the chorus, just fyi)

    Little Japanese scientist, underneath the sea,

    was he looking for Kevin Bacon – was he looking for me?

    He may have found me, you never do know,

    because there is no place Kevin Bacon can't go.




    (now the song begins)




    Well it wasn't long ago that a Jap did,

    something we all admire, he saw a big squid.

    Looks like it was swimming happily along,

    probably singing to itself a Kevin Bacon song!


    (chorus)






    Long ago, when Kevin Bacon was in Egypt land,

    Kevin Bacon decided it was time to take a stand.

    Kevin Bacon told the pharaoh:

    [In Charlton Heston Voice] "Let my people go!"



    (chorus)




    When Kevin Bacon traveled to the center of a black hole,

    Kevin Bacon noticed that time traveled R-E-A-L-L-Y slow!

    So Kevin Bacon took advantage of the space/time which gravity was making a hole-in,

    To get witches to pleasure Kevin Bacon in his colon.




    (chorus)


    Wednesday, April 5th, 2006
    12:37 pm
    Breaking news!
    Sean Hall is pirating cable AND the internet.

    I should be around a bit more now. Loitering really. I love Wi-fi hotspots. I feel so villainous. SOOO dastardly. Man, am I a evil, evil person.

    Well, gotta go pay rent and head to class.

    take it easy.
    ~sean
    Better known as the the artist formally known as Sean, AKA Jaundice, AKA Scholtelheim Reinback III, AKA Manwhich.

    Hmmmmmm.... I'm going to have to figure out a way not to pay rent someday too. Thats right, Sean Hall, Future squatter.

    That has a nice ring to it. I'll find some hole in the wall somewhere with free everything. Maybe I'll live on school property, or a laundrymat attic or a zoo. Every morning I'll spray myself off in the hippo pit. I'll even hunt and eat the local wildlife. Man that sounds nice.

    oh well. I really have to go.

    hey, chris, anything new to report? If you want I can give you a raise and a new title. I'll pay you twice as much as before, and you'll be a rear admiral. If you work hard enough I might even make you vice general of human affairs.

    ~sean
    Friday, March 10th, 2006
    3:29 pm
    BOOO!
    Hi...

    *cough, cough*


    I CHANGED MY ADDRESS, MY PHONE NUMBER, and I NO LONGER HAVE A BRIEF MESSAGE.
    Yeah, I've moved.

    New Phone : 754-1954
    My Pad : 2510 Van buren St, Apt #1, Corvallis Oregon, 97333.

    I moved about a month ago.

    uh. so.
    how are things? Things.... good?
    Friday, February 3rd, 2006
    3:50 pm
    Jaundice
    Elmo....

    Who is he?
    What is he?
    Where did he come from?
    Why does he have hallucinogenic fits?
    What the hell kind of accent is that anyway?
    And who the hell is Mr. Noodle?

    These are questions I mostly ask myself, as I sit on the 6th floor of the library building. It's like a catacomb/attic most of the time. In fact the only sound to be heard is the typing of quick fingers and the wiring in the elevator shaft.
    It's like some sort of forgotten ratty book maze full of columns of peeling book bindings in english, spanish, dutch, french, and a dozen other languages.
    There is also a huge sections dedicated to obscure bibliographies. One floor down from me is the OSU rare book / scientific vault.
    But mostly I sit alone up here when I can to uh.... study. Biology right now. Enzymatic inhibators, and the effects of P.H levels on certain enzymes and their substrates...
    I just took mine calculus mid-term, I don't think I did too badly. But ultimately what will save me in the class is the fact that there are people who are EVEN WORSE at calculus than I am. And I'm positively lazy and mildly illiterate in the algebra front.
    I think I can handle calc, the rest of my load is easy. The chem mid-term was simple enough. And I'm sure I'll ace the bio mid term next monday.

    Hmmmm. I just farted. A lovely noise to hear in a quiet library setting.

    Anyway, thats what I'm up to. Library flatulence.

    Bye-Bye
    Grandpa loves you.
    Wednesday, January 25th, 2006
    11:12 am
    I wake up each night, terrified by the fact that my eyes have been replaced by wet noodles.

    I seek employment in the noodle factory, where the ghosts of sponges and rakes still hold ground. 'Where are my shoes?' I call out into the stiff glassy darkness.
    'Summer is over and gone. Over and gone, over and gone. Summer is dying and gone,' they sang. 'And only winter is here.'

    Yadda, Yadda, Yadda.

    The shadows quack and dance to the tune of a man with only one leg. Hop man, Hop.


    hmmmmm. I wonder where shawna went?

    Chris is writting stuff now, this is good.

    -sean out-
    Saturday, January 21st, 2006
    6:21 pm
    According to Ariel.

    "If eyes are the window of the soul, my soul is brown, shiny, has blood running through it, has lots of eyelashes, and is also in the shape of an eye ball.'

    Ariel is doodling notes to me as I sit at the computer doing science junk. But now I'm on livejournal....

    Anyway, back to the SCIENCE! *Puts thumb up butt until enough pressure builds to blast himself to the chem department*.

    ~sean (and a little of ariel too.)
    Wednesday, January 11th, 2006
    11:13 am
    Hogzilla
    I like the writting on this story more

    http://www.weeklyworldnews.com/features/suspects/61293

    .....but, Here is a more credible source for the filthy unbelivers. (And a better picture too).

    http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/5540839/


    Hogzilla truth or fiction, you decide.
    Friday, January 6th, 2006
    5:26 pm
    The easy entry.
    Ask me a question about anything: my past, my thoughts, my dreams, what I ate for breakfast yesterday, etc. I will try to answer it. Anything you want to know? Come on! I won't be offended by private questions either. Just ask. only one question per person though. And whoever answers this, if anyone chooses to answer it, has to post the same thing in their livejournal. well, ok, only if you want to.


    P.s: I'm good, I function well.
    Also, sorry I'm never on, I'll try to come on every now and then. I just don't know what to write anymore, I suppose I still have guts to spill, just not a easy means to tip them over onto the internet carpet so to speak. Hopefully my vicera wont leave a terrible stain.

    ~sean
    Saturday, December 17th, 2005
    2:43 pm
    I have decided to kill a puppy unless my demands are met.
    Anybody know of any helpful demands to make? Think realisticly. Puppies aren't people. But Peta will care.

    -sean out-
    Thursday, December 15th, 2005
    9:04 pm
    *burps*
    My balony has a first name it's
    A
    R
    I
    E
    L
    My balony has a second name it's
    B
    R
    A
    N
    D


    .... Now how is THAT for romance, eh?

    See ya friday ariel. : )
    Thursday, December 8th, 2005
    12:51 pm
    Look at me!
    *extends arms and runs around* I'm a airplane, I'm a airplane. *vrrrrrroooooooooooooooommmmmm* *vrooooooooooooooom* Flight coming in to land, open landing gear! SCREEEEEEEEEECH..... *VVVVVVVVVVVVVVRRRRRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM*
    Wednesday, December 7th, 2005
    9:27 am
    Look at me!
    *Flaps arms* I'm a bird! I'm a bird! Ka-KAA, KA-KAaa, QUARK!
    Monday, December 5th, 2005
    8:20 am
    Finals Wiiiieeeeeee!
    Bio Final accomplished, did well I think, they didn't even ask about haplodiploidy in insects, pfffaah. Acanthocephala... Of course they ask about the the spiny headed parasites with the weird probocsis like this
    *gesticulates with fingers and hops up and down*...

    8 hours till chem final. Must goof off! YAAAAARGHHH~!
    Fools, amateurs, frisbees hats! You will taste my academic wrath and disdain ! Take that! And this! And whatever this is! And also that! And be sure not to leave with this! *gesticulates with fingers and hops up and down*
    I will chop you up and bury you and desicate you're corpse with my fecal matter. But thats normal for me, y'know.
    Saturday, December 3rd, 2005
    7:32 pm
    I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together.
    See how they run like pigs from a gun, see how they fly.
    I'm crying.

    Sitting on a cornflake, waiting for the van to come.
    Corporation tee-shirt, stupid bloody Tuesday.
    Man, you been a naughty boy, you let your face grow long.
    I am the eggman, they are the eggmen.
    I am the walrus, goo goo g'joob.

    Mister City Policeman sitting
    Pretty little policemen in a row.
    See how they fly like Lucy in the Sky, see how they run.
    I'm crying, I'm crying.
    I'm crying, I'm crying.

    Yellow matter custard, dripping from a dead dog's eye.
    Crabalocker fishwife, pornographic priestess,
    Boy, you been a naughty girl you let your knickers down.
    I am the eggman, they are the eggmen.
    I am the walrus, goo goo g'joob.

    Sitting in an English garden waiting for the sun.
    If the sun don't come, you get a tan
    From standing in the English rain.
    I am the eggman, they are the eggmen.
    I am the walrus, goo goo g'joob g'goo goo g'joob.

    Expert textpert choking smokers,
    Don't you thing the joker laughs at you?
    See how they smile like pigs in a sty,
    See how they snied.
    I'm crying.

    Semolina pilchard, climbing up the Eiffel Tower.
    Elementary penguin singing Hari Krishna.
    Man, you should have seen them kicking Edgar Allan Poe.
    I am the eggman, they are the eggmen.
    I am the walrus, goo goo g'joob g'goo goo g'joob.
    Goo goo g'joob g'goo goo g'joob g'goo.

    -------
    I am the walrus, Octopus's garden, Rocky Raccoon. The best beattles songs are those three. But any peculiar song usually sits well with me, which is why I probably like ween so much. I hate carbon copies of carbon copies, of clones. The original is always nice but I belive books and music and almost anything should be unique in its own fashion. I hate it when everything begins to look and smell and think and act alike. Originality and creativity are never appreciated as they should be, I don't understand why people are so comfortable with everything being the same. Humans are such trolls sometimes. Bunch of birds, feeble minded in their like-mindedness. A Or B, Stop or Go, Fly or die, Put up or shut up, With us or against us, Similiar or disimiliar. I loath the love it or leave it attitude. Pack mentalities are safe but not always correct. It shouldn't be dangerouse to dissociate yourself with people or to disagree. It shouldn't be wrong to stand out or be disruptive. Otherwise things grow set and stagnant. Are people too stupid to be indivduals? It's sickening. People are going to have to change, and there is always violence in upheavals. It's neccassary to tear things up before you can try to put them back together again sometimes. But people seem to be too stupid to help themselves, somebody needs to either show them how to do it or do it for them. Strength and power are neccessary for any leader, without either of them people won't follow, but power and strength can be illusions. A neccessary pretense.
    2:05 pm
    Inexplicably I'm feeling as if I'm on drugs. It's a strange feeling, it's as if the fabric of my mind is being stretched, allowing for a certain sense of unreality, it's funny being of the opinion that the world around me is crumbling when it's really just me. Maybe one day I'll jot down some of my more surreal moments. The suspension of disbelief when the toaster almost seems to talk to me. It almost says.... make some toast. Of course thats nothing compared to the moments that I remember that I exist. It's funny that I can almost misplace myself. *slaps forhead* Oh yeah, I remember, I am me! Sean isn't a figment of my imagination. It isn't a elaborate ruse to fool myself into a sense of false security in my existence. Sometimes I just forget is all. How silly!
    1:31 pm
    Last night was pretty disturbing. For the most part I just sat in my room, locked the door, and downloaded miyazaki flicks, but when I decided to go out and be social all I ended up doing was playing pool with this scarry drunk 50 year old women dressed like Paris Hilton. I think our conversation was a little like this.
    50 year old women dressed like Paris Hilton: I'm reaaaaly drunk, I don't think I'll play very well.
    Me: Don't worry, what I lack in skill you make up for in drunkeness, it'll be a fair game ma'am.
    50 year old women dressed like Paris Hilton: Okay, I'll break.
    Me: Go right ahead.
    50 year old women dressed like Paris Hilton: Y'know, people mistake me for a whore, but I'm really a slut.
    Me: ... Yeah tell me about it!
    50 year old women dressed like Paris Hilton: Lindsey is such a bitch!
    Me: I know! Isn't she?

    It was about this point that she went outside to puke on my neighbors lawn, I decided to retire to my room for the rest of the night, where I thwarted the plans of a couple of strangers who wanted to make out in my room,
    Me: Get a room that isn't mine! Out! Ewwwww. Don't touch that!
    Then I locked my doors and watched howl's moving castle, it was okay, not as good as some of his other movies, but I liked it well enough.
    Friday, December 2nd, 2005
    11:19 pm
    My kind of love
    Are you ready for my kind of love ariel?
    Are you ready for nights spent reading Sun Tzu's art of war? Are you ready for inexplicable running around in the night causing occasional havoc sort of love? Are you ready to be a part of me? My right hand? : )
    Are you ready for the fart humor romance of the century? Are you ready ariel.... To pull my finger?


    Are you ready to be tied to me, in a very real and terrifying fashion?
    Are you ready to be broken and crafted into a image more condusive to myself?
    But most of all are you ready for books, more books, spending time with me (reading books), and sharing similar interests?
    10:50 pm
    Human Dominos
    Soon 200 people will flood this house, and three garage bands will be playing in the basement.
    I'll hide in my rooms, drink coffee, and if nothing else challenge a few drunks to a game of pool.
    When it comes down to it drunk people are kinda fun. If they drink enough you can lord you're sobriety over them by beating them at any game, and pushing them over with the slightest nudge because of their poor motor control, like a human domino game. And due to the inebriation they become weak to suggestion. If I work the old sean charm card I'll have a bunch of drunks doing step aerobics, then I'll have them put on suits and wobble around like penguins. Is it cruel or wrong of me to take advantage of the weak minded? No, no, it's right. Very right.

    Time to cash in some chips
    ~sean
    10:43 pm
    Dear Ariel.
    I have received the mystery package, it says it contains you're clothing....
    You know..... I'm resisting the urge to open the package, and trounce around in you're clothing.
    You're lucky, you owe me big now.

    -end communication-
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