I just realized that my entire sense of morality is based exclusively upon a bunch of insane, illogical fables and fairy tales that I heard while growing up. Some of these might help explain why I’m so retarded.

The tortoise and the hare

This is the epic story of some sort of bizarre animal Olympics in which a turtle and a rabbit are racing each other. Everybody expects the rabbit to win, but the shit hits the fan when he decides to take a nap right before the finish line. The turtle eventually passes him and crosses the finish line first, winning the respect of the entire animal kingdom and establishing turtles as one of the fastest land animals around.

Moral: I think the moral of this story is supposed to be that slow and steady wins the race, but the only reason the turtle wins is because the rabbit took a fucking nap. There is no way to apply this to real life.

The boy who cried wolf

When a village discovers that their sheep are endangered of being eaten by a wolf, they make the decision to have the precocious, wise-cracking town trouble-maker guard them. Ever the comedian, this kid thinks that it would be a hilarious gag to say that there is a wolf when there really isn’t. Although he is proven correct, the town becomes pissed off at him, especially when he does it a second time. Since this town is full of mental retards, they elect to continue employing this cruel, completely unreliable wretch as their sheep-watcher. The twist is this: When a wolf really does come, nobody listens to the boy, because they think he is up to his old tricks. In the version I’m accustomed to, the wolf is content with just eating the sheep, but I was recently informed that the boy also gets eaten, which was very sad to me, and made me cry for two days.

Moral: If you don’t tell the truth, you will probably die. Also, it might be a good idea to run a quick background check on who you hire to safeguard your town from wolves.

The three little pigs

There’s a wolf cavorting around pigtown, and he wants some bacon. Since most wolves have the magical ability to blow down buildings, this wolf decides to blow down a bunch of pigs’ houses (I don’t know why these pigs are living in houses). One of the pigs is autistic, and he makes his house out of straw, while another pig makes his out of wood, because I guess he wants to live in a cabin. The wolf blows both of these houses down, but he can’t blow down the third pig’s home, because he has built his out of bricks.

Moral: If your house is in jeopardy of being blown down by a wolf, you should probably hire somebody to be on the lookout. To avoid further problems, please refer to the previous story.

There is nothing more depressing than watching a film made in the past which takes place in a future that has already happened. You can go out to Blockbuster Video right now and rent movies that take place in the distant future of 1998, and they’ll show how everybody is going to be cruising the streets in hoverboards and flying to Mars in private rockets. But making a movie that takes place a few years or so into the future and depicting such an advanced society is a lot like making a movie set back in 1990 and having everybody wearing top hats and driving Model Ts to their jobs at the monocle factory.

I recently watched a ludicrous movie called Strange Days, which was made in 1995 and takes place in 1999. In this magical future world of four years from when the movie came out, everybody has VR headsets, gas is $3 a gallon and widescreen TVs are in all the homes. I watched this movie and I was like, what kind of mental retard would assume that in four years technology would have advanced to the fucking VR headset level? Who’s the Nostradamus who decided that everybody would go out to Best Buy and buy a widescreen TV right after they left the theater? I’m no film director, but it doesn’t take Miss Cleo to realize that society probably wouldn’t have changed that much in only four years.

The worst part about movies that take place in the future is that the only things that have actually changed in real life remain exactly how they were when the film was made: hair styles and computers. In Alien, for example, everybody is flying around in outer space and making robots, but when they need to boot up their computer, it’s some sort of retarded Atari which takes up half of the entire ship. Good job, Alien, you successfully predicted that technology would improve in every area except the one area where it actually improved in. I’m not sure when Alien was supposed to take place, but it’s probably 1986 or something like that. Because that’s just the type of shit the film industry would try to pull.

My roommate Diego is from Ecuador, which is possibly why he prefaces every sentence with the phrase, “We have a saying in Ecuador.” For example he might say, “We have a saying in Ecuador: Please pass me the remote control.” Then I’ll say, “Diego, I really don’t think that’s a saying in Ecuador,” and he’ll get mad and say, “Eric, quit being such a bitch.” If you are skeptical of whether this is actually a typical conversation between me and Diego, you have obviously never seen us converse before. Our room is like a constant sitcom, only there’s a lot of swearing and hurt feelings, and nobody ever learns a valuable lesson.

Don’t get me wrong, when Diego is not embarrassing me in front of company or giving me instructions in the form of a series of incomprehensible whistles and hand gestures, he is a very good roommate. The problem is that he is continuously embarrassing me in front of company and giving me instructions in the form of a series of incomprehensible whistles and hand gestures. Still, I’ve always contested that Diego is very wise and mysterious. Nobody can comprehend the true nature of Diego.

In other news, you may have noticed that I removed the guestbook from this site. This is because, without a guestbook, I can now say such things as “I secretly want to see A Walk To Remember” without getting publicly humiliated on my own website. So if you kids have a question or comment you want me to hear, you can simply email it to me and I will respond to it on this site in a segment I ingeniously like to call “Mail.” But please do not email me just to make fun of me for wanting to see A Walk To Remember. It’s really not that big of a deal!

According to recent statistics, about 80% of all people who read eKarjala think it’s the worst thing to ever happen. These people absolutely hate this site, and they have made it their life’s business to make sure that I know this fact. Here is a typical day in one of these peoples’ lives:

11:13 AM Wakes up and checks eKarjala, hitting refresh periodically incase I update while they’re visiting

12:45 PM Signs guestbook to write, “I can’t believe I just wasted my time to sign this guestbook. This site really sucks!”

1:05 PM Checks guestbook to see if anybody has responded to comment

3:49 PM Makes joke to self about how stupid my last update was

5:00 PM Poetry hour

6:07 PM Rereads entire eKarjala archives

8:10 PM Prepares and consumes microwave burrito

8:31 PM Calls burrito manufacturer to complain that burrito tasted like crap and was a waste of time to eat

8:47 PM Drives to Kroger’s to purchase two dozen additional burritos

10:58 PM Signs guestbook to make fun of how other people wasted their time signing the guestbook

12:52 AM Lights candles in Wickensworth altar located adjacent to bed

3:12 AM Checks to see if eKarjala has been updated

3:32 AM Wishes their parents loved them

4:02 AM Falls asleep in a little ball in the corner of their room

My classes are always really boring, which has forced me to discover several entertaining actives that can be performed while my teachers yak on and on about Islam or whatever the hell they like to talk about (I think it’s usually about Islam). Some of my favorites classroom activities are as follows:

Mental Tetris

This is a lot like regular Tetris, only instead of a Gameboy dictating what blocks you receive, you leave it up to your imagination. The weird part is that when I play Mental Tetris, you’d think that I’d give myself some useable shapes, but I really don’t. I always get one of those retarded mutant blocks that you can never find a place for, when all I really want is some goddamned lines. This usually leads to me punching myself in the head and shouting, “I want lines! Give me lines!” before I realize that I’m disrupting class. Then I quiet back down and begin a new game.

Crossword Puzzles

The irony about these things is that you’re doing them while a teacher is lecturing to you about things that could potentially be applied for future crossword puzzle usage. So the more crossword puzzles you do, the worse you get at them. I really don’t like crossword puzzles that much, because their clues are always something like, “24 Down: speaks lemon turtle?” Somehow, even though most of these clues could never make any human sense, I still feel like an idiot for not knowing the answer.

Doodling

This is a favorite activity of mine, despite the fact that I have the handwriting coordination of a six year old with arthritis. Usually I’ll draw a star or a three dimensional box or a combination of the two, but since I’m completely zoned out while I doodle, I never really know what surprising things my subconscious will have created. For example, just today I looked over my history notes and discovered that I had written “Satan is grand!” over and over again with my own blood. Fascinating!

Twirling Pencils

Often called “The Sport of Kings” in its native Europe, pencil twirling has a long and storied history. Since I’ve only recently began my personal career, I remain somewhat of a novice. However, one day I hope to be as good as the professionals, who can twirl a pencil in their hand at speeds of up to twenty miles per hour, then flip it into the air, perform a cartwheel, and catch it in their mouths. Incidentally, I’ve become very proficient at “mental twirling pencils.”

Watching Other People Take Notes

This is another favorite activity of mine. I find that people’s note taking habits are very fascinating, and monitoring their progress is thus an enjoyable way for me to fill up a class period. Sometimes I’ll even take notes on their note taking. “The girl in the red shit is underlining a term. Now she’s drawing some sort arrow. Wait—what’s this? Could it be? Yes! She’s using a highlighter! I don’t believe it!” I should add that I’ve found “mental watching other people take notes” isn’t as fun as one might think it is.