Alphabetical Index: I

I can hear everything

In the end, the video camera, sketchbook and tape recorder proved useless – incoherent gibberish and videotape of my forehead: “Can you see inside my mind yet?” The notebook was only slightly more useful: page after page of relative nonsense like “DEAD EYES” scrawled in inch-high letters. More

I Copied a File

I am so proud of myself. I copied a file. I can't tell you what a sense of accomplishment I feel. I took a file from the hard drive, and copied it to a 3.5 inch diskette. When I checked the disk to see that file was there and saw that it was, I was ecstatic, in a nearly lost-my-virginity fashion. And don't mock me. I'll bet there's a lot of people who could not have copied that file, at least the way I did. Let me explain. More

I Dropped My Pen...Time for a Killing Spree

It's the little things.

When bad things happen, I mean really bad things, the human brain has a built in defense. Get fired? Found out someone murdered your family? Caught a raging disease that will slowly kill and give you excessive flatulence? No problem. Such life-shattering events are too much for the brain to handle, so it doesn't even try.

I Earn More Money Than You, Little Boy

"I earn more money than you, little boy, that's how," I tell the envious little sprog when he expresses a whining jealousy over the lovely home theatre I've created in my home. They come over with their parents or friends, see our setup, and wish they had one. More often than not (depending on their breeding and manners), they whine to their parents about why they don't have a similar setup at home. More

I give up !!!! Microsoft all is forgiven

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I Got Laid Off on Monday

As some of you may have read in the last issue of CoN, or heard me discuss more often than it is humanly required to talk about (special thanks to all the support from my friends that lent me that ear), I was laid off from my last job. I worked for Gamesmania.com, a gaming site, where I wrote silly reviews of games and hardware in laymen terms, permitting even the biggest of retards to understand them. More

I Hate The Man In Salesman

I have absolutely no background in the field of sales at all, even remotely. That night I get a call, I've passed! For a bunch of sales-whores they sure do know how to make an easy "Answer-what-we-want-to-hear-not-what-we-want-you-to-think" question form. That should have had me running. More

I have this on a poster on my wall

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I love Bell Canada

Telling Bell that I was moving and that I wanted my phone to follow me seemed like a simple thing to do. You fill out a form, you hand it to the smiling clerk that doesn't comprehend, much less speak one word of English, and you go merrily on your way. More

I met my father for the first time today

I met my father for the first time today... now, don't think this is one of those long lost "I've never met my father until now" situations. I've always known my father... or at least I thought I did. Let me explain...(don't worry, I'll keep it brief). More

I Need a Stupid Job

More and more, he makes the point that as awareness of our own futility in the greater cause of the corporate 'cog in the wheel' prospect grows, combined with the urgings within most of us to somehow be the masters of own pop cultural domains, we want to make shit. Or do shit. More

I Nerdicus

Me Nerd. Yes I'm a nerd. Suffice to say I won't be the type to go trekkie conventions with Spock ears, but I sure do love to ogle at the Starships and read their specs. I guess I'm what you call a Sleeper Latent Nerd. Or a Part-time nerd. More

I Tried, Dad

“I tried Dad," Ron bellowed, clutching the corpse of his father. Though only dead a short time, the flesh was already growing cold. The stench of death was spreading to cover up the odor of spilled beer coming from a half-dented can of Lone Star. The old man looked so peaceful once Ron had closed his eyes and smoothed the angry scowl he was wearing when he died. More

I want Money

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I Want My MPFree

Mere months ago, 75% of the public was content in knowing that, if they put their treasured Britney Spears CD into their computer, it would play. Now, suddenly, people are talking about MP3s--sound files that offer audio quality comparable to a compact disc, but at a fraction of the size of a ripped CD track. Thanks to everyone from Time magazine to the New York Post, the same person who was content listening to 'Hit Me Baby One More Time' on their Spears CD can now duplicate and trade the entire album over the net using free products like RealJukebox and Napster in a matter of minutes. The process is quick, easy--and 100% free.

I Wanted to be Invisible

I felt this way because I'd always had an exceptionally inquisitive mind, a mind that, forever in search of the deepest truths, often compelled me to challenge things (the assumption that boundary lines in nature are fixed and inviolable for example) that others never questioned. More

I Write Therefore I Am

Today I handed over a manila envelope containing five of my best short stories and the first chapter of my newly-completed novel to a reporter who works in the same newsroom as me. Entrusting her with these documents was like handing over a chunk of my personality. "Thanks," she said. "I've never known a real writer."

I'm Somebody's Evil Twin

He's not from the evil parallel dimension. You know, the one Captain Kirk was accidentally sent to where all the evil counterparts of the Enterprise had a beard (I think even Uhura had one). He's not from the evil parallel dimension, though I might be. I'm the one with the beard. More

I've Been Poisoned

When I was about 14 and determined to be a rock star, I wrote a song called "I've Been Poisoned." It was mostly just heavy drum beats, kind of like Queen's "We Will Rock You." There is no way in hell you're going to get me to recite the lyrics, but suffice it to say I was a big Poison fan. Biiig Poison fan.

I've Never Seen Anything Like This

I am holding in my hands a piece of paper from the World Trade Center that I found lying on the ground in the financial district. It is an expense report from a company called "Cantor Fitzgerald", written by a man named David R. Meyer. More