So these are pictures of the worlds largest orgy when it went down in Japan. In my mind I associate the worlds largest orgy with the worlds sweetest orgy but this looks more like a warehouse scale physical. The organization going on here leads me to believe that there was not so much as one drop of sweat or bodily fluids that hit the floor at any time. 250 men, 250 women, one room. Zero orgasms.
The claymation planet smashers video was infinitely more arousing.

"I want to see the whole world and I want to write down everything"

-Harriet the spy

A few reasons why I love Valentines day

Yeah I'll be the first to tell you I like Paris Hilton, Britney Spears, and Martha Stewart Living magazines.

I maintain that you can still be a valid human and participate in all these things.

But today I want to tell you all a little bit about why I fucking love Valentines day so fucking much. Here goes !

1 . I need another excuse to get wasted.

2 . I think those little heart candies with words on them are halarious. They say the most random things. One time I swear I got one that said lets do it. I'm not even joking (think of the children!)

3 . I need another excuse to make out with people.

4 . Everyone fucking hates it and I like being contrary.

5. Its one of the few holidays where no (reasonable / single) person truly expects anything.

6 . I used to have a fixation with the human heart in art, and I think its infinitely clever when people employ this image instead of what you would usually expect. (Like in that Crayola commercial where these boys are giving this one hot girl all these little notes in class with hearts on them and she goes for the one who draws her a sloppy human heart with blood all over it.)

7 . Red food dye has speed - like effects on me.

8 . I have a genuine obsession with seasonal baking.

9 . Without fail, my mother sends me some candy and money in the mail on this red letter of a day. I realize this will probably continue to happen into the thirties. At which point I will stop blogging about it.

10 . I'm a corporate whore and generally enjoy participating in the capitalistic ventures of this commercial sham.

That last one isn't really true I just wanted to even it out to 10.

But I really think everyone should stop being so cynical about v-day. It could do wonders for the economy if everyone bought their significant other a bunch of flowers, a box of chocolates, a litter of puppies and a few prostitutes.
Now THERES a recipe for a good Valentines day.

Foot Power !

(These are Paris Hiltons feet.)

Millions of people on foot in London will be doing more than getting from point A to point B – they will be powering subways and streetlights via foot power !

Pavegen systems, a London based company with a goal for a zero carbon society decided to take the kinetic energy and convert it into electricity using green pavement slabs that compress 5 millimetres when stepped on. The kinetic energy is stored in an internal battery or sent along a wire to a light source. 8 million people walk the streets of London everyday, taking over 11 trillion steps every year.

But in case people are weary their souls will be snatched upon gracing these glowing, turf like slabs, the disc in the middle of the rubber surface glows every time they are stepped on – kind of like those sweet light up shoes that really inspired us when we were young’ns.

The slabs, made of 100% recycled car tires, are put in areas where at least 50 000 steps are taken every day. The goal is two have 5 slabs around every bus stop in London, and 16000 of them installed by summer 2012.

The concept of using our crowded streets to fuel the urban environment is the pinnacle of recycling - and we can count on that resource not running out, to be sure. They look a little futuristic and scary, but the light actually increases pedestrians visibility at night, making the streets less foreboding during the wee hours. Cool idea !

Blackalicious wants YOU to not litter.

"Because you live in this world, you live on in this planet, this planet is basically all of our homes we have to take care of it. If not, the extreme of it effects everybody on the planet. Just as a human race we would feel like idiots if we just whipped ourselves out, right ?"

- Cheif Xcel

"Must Read After My Death" - creepy? yes. Stimulating? yes. Should you viddy? Yes yes yes.

"Are all these things we think are so important, really that important?” Charley's voice asks over the crackling home tape recording. He, a restless father of four, and Allis, a self proclaimed non conformist housewife who struggles to find her purpose in the world, endure a laborious marriage that lead them to undertake a variety of therapeutic resolutions.

The pursuit for catharsis is intermittent in Must Read After my Death. The Hartford family, under a close lens, exemplifies the results of too much therapy, institutions, drugs, drastic measures taken in attempts to heal problems in marriage and adds ever more fibres to the web of family problems. Life only gets worse for this family as they continuously try to fix it. The relics are depicted in this documentary in a collage of authentic footage, photographs and audio diaries recorded by Allis and other members of the immediate family between 1967 - 1969.

Most of the audio recordings are made by Allis as practice for marriage counselling. She reveals secrets she isn't yet ready to share with her husband, with whom there seems to be an endless power struggle. Her psychiatrist also encourages her to record household arguments. These usually occur between Charley and Bruce, their son, who, by the advice of a particular psychiatrist in a long line of many, is sent to an adult mental institution at the age of 14.

The shady psychiatrist, Dr Lenn, is full of questionable advice. Every session becomes more and more tense, and anger flares in the recordings - during which, the viewer may get the feeling they are pressing their ear up to a keyhole to catch snippets of a private conversation in a room mates life. It is very evident that these conversations occurred within the privacy of one's household. The subject matter is very personal. Allis's desperate attempts to patch the holes in the family quilt lead her to accept any advice that comes her way, it seems.

The viewer becomes enveloped into their small world and the documentary can be stressful to watch at times. However, it is not without sympathy that the viewer is made to regard the victimized narrator. Allis is very much a product of her environment - one she had the pressure to create, and maintain, mostly alone. All the while embarking on a frenzied endeavour to achieve the status of a 'Woman with a capital W'- she is a desperate housewife of her time. At one point, she expresses empathy for mothers who kill their children to save them from the dreadful prospects of a fruitless life - evidence of her eventual insanity that all the 'help' leads to.

This leads me back to Charley's initial question. Are all these things we think are so important, really that important? Allis and Charley are no doubt responsible for their 4 children and their home, but it comes at the expense of Allis's sanity and eventually, Charley's life.

If there is a fable that goes along with this cautionary tale, it is surely that there is violence in love, and it can obscure one's vision in terms of doing the right thing. Must Read After my Death, directed by Allis and Charley's grandson Morgan Dews, is a testament of love based on utility - for the sake of the family. The complex tale finds its catharsis in this philosophy.