That Nigga Jess Jones Pt. 1

I sign onto facebook more and more these days. Am I slipping into the void of nothingness and self glorifying bullshitism? Or am I simply looking for a way of digitally chatting with people whom no longer frequent myspace or ichat? The answer is more shrouded in mystery than my sexual orientation, but one thing is for certain, my online facebook alias will forever be Jess Jones.
I created Jess Jones several years ago as a joke and I cannot for the life of me remember why I picked the name this particular name. What I can remember is that when I typed Jess Jones into google images I instantly found the picture of this man.



After all these years I feel obligated to dedicate some Clog time to the man who has selflessly supported my facebook vagrancy over the past few years.


Jesse G. Jones was born on February 26, 1842 in Alabama, and died on April 11, 1917 in Texas (yes, I am sad to say Jess Jones is in fact dead as a god damn door nail). In 1856 Jesse was orphaned by the age of fourteen in Mississippi. He was adopted and educated by a businessman who saw potential in him even as a teenager. Jesse's sisters were raised in Alabama where they had previously lived.

More about Jess Jones to come.

From the Pages of Walden, Post 1.

"Our life is frittered away by detail. An honest man has hardly need to count more than his ten fingers, or in extreme cases he may add his ten toes, and lump the rest." - Henry David Thoreau

I translate this to literally mean, fuck math. Math and numbers have no place in this world. They simply bog down the mind waste precious sheets of binder paper, that could be put to far better use as canvas for sonnets and materials paper footballs. People say that money is the root of all evil, when in fact it is is numbers that account for life's most stressful endeavors.


My math skills have taken me about this far