Truly Nothing New

Another homeless guy emulation kind-of-a-day has been embalmed. The usual bus ride brought me to town at the usual time. After acquiring a small cup of coffee and one bleached flour bakery roll (no air-filled energy bars) at Safeway®, I made my way to the Korean and Vietnam War Memorial. Two derelicts were sitting on two separate benches. Both of the clowns were smoking cigarettes. Cussing under breath, I walked to the I'olani Palace grounds in the Capitol district. To my surprise, I discovered that the grounds had been commandeered by the Hawai'ian Kingdom Government, one of the many Hawai'ian Sovereignty groups. I briefly chatted with one of the "representatives" at the chained and locked North gate.

I had no choice but to join the two smoking derelicts at the Korean and Vietnam War Memorial. Fortunately, there was one vacant bench. I did my best to enjoy my brunch before walking a roundabout way to the library. I spent almost four hours in the inner courtyard. I am continuing to read the book, "Blood Money," by T Christian Miller. I cannot even begin to describe how sickened I was by the account of greed and corruption. Gym time was at 2pm as usual. I did my usual workout. Then, I rode the bus back to Slob Manor (read: rental housing), arriving at 4:45pm. I look forward to engaging in the same ol' shit for the remainder of the day.

The Fed did not let Big Money down. It lowered short-term interest rates by a modest 0.25 percent to two percent (the infamous "war level"). Expect inflation to kick in again. Oil and food prices will rise proportionately. And, dividend income from investment accounts will continue to drop. Senior citizens, including the ol' lavahead, who depend on such income will suffer the most. A few mortgage holders with adjustable rates may be saved from foreclosure, but the value of their homes has dropped. Is that worth the trouble? The Fed hinted at halting the rate cuts, but that's not going to happen. The worst is yet to come.

Certainly Nothing New

The long-awaited Conexant® sound driver appeared in Windows® Update last night. I ran through the install process and ended up with no sound. The device driver was active and Windows® reported it as running fine. I used Windows® Device Manager to revert back to the old driver, but the sound was extremely tinny. Fortunately, Windows® Vista has the Restore Point feature. I was able to rollback my computer to the point prior to the driver installation. Sadly, the Conexant® driver is holding up the Service Pack 1 upgrade. From what I can tell, I will never be able to upgrade.

I called it a night at 11:30pm. As I was attempting to sleep, I could hear the Chinaman yapping on the phone complete with his trademarked, "Hoo-eey!" throat clearing verbiage. Fortunately, he ended the call 15 minutes later. I slept fairly well nonetheless.

Another homeless guy emulation kind-of-a-day has been cut and dried. Extremely gusty winds and heavy cloud cover almost assured rain, but not even a drizzle appeared. Thus, my homeless guy itinerary remained intact. I ate my Safeway® brunch by the Korean and Vietnam War Memorial even though the gale force winds were impeding my efforts to consume my food and coffee. I spent almost four hours in the inner courtyard of the library. The gym was the highlight of the day. I chatted with Justin, the former Diploma Mill student who is now a trainer. I also ran into Albert, one of the gym regulars. He's 46 years old and probably one of the more gregarious guys in the gym. I've also seen him at the Waikiki branch of the gym. He asked if I was still living in Waikiki. I gave him the rundown. A quick bus ride brought me back to Slob Manor (read: rental housing) by 4:45pm. Well, that only leaves the same ol' shit for the remainder of the day.

The Fed should be lowering interest rates tomorrow to at least the "war level" of two percent or lower. An incursion into Iran becomes an increasing possibility as war expenditures will be easily inflated away. As we wait for the Fed to flood the "system" with more inflated dollars, we might do well to read the scholarly work titled, "Military or Market-Driven Empire Building: 1950-2008," by James Petras which appeared on the Global Research site.

Nothing New

The gale force winds returned last night with a vengeance. Dirt, dust, and crap were swirling around my squalid room as the winds violently and abruptly shifted directions in the "wind tunnel." Yet another redundant story in the chronicle of redundancy. When will it ever end?

I slept fairly well. I woke up at 3am to exit a crazy dream. I could hear the Chinaman yapping away on the phone. Fortunately, he ended the call a few minutes later. I woke up again at 4am. I heard the Chinaman snoring loudly. What a maroon! I was off for Hawai'i Kai at 8:30am, making one stop at Foodland in Koko Marina to purchase a cup of coffee. Moms was home when I arrived. Moms was busy with a few chores. I piddled around while I waited for moms.

At 10:30am, moms and I made the rounds to Longs® in Kuapa Kai and to Foodland in Koko Marina. Moms served up hot dogs and canned salmon for lunch with fresh vegetables and rice. Moms had also warmed up leftover Zippy's chili but the latter had gone bad. For dessert, moms served up Foremost® coffee ice cream. I chatted with moms until 1pm. I then walked down to the gym to do my usual cardio workout.

After a shower, I walked back and retrieved my Nissan® Frontier truck. I did not wake moms up from her nap to say good-bye. Moms has been mentioning that she has been extremely tired lately. I drove back to Slob Manor (read: rental housing) to drop off my stuff. I also performed the dreaded laundry chores, albeit a day early, as quickly as possible. At 3:34pm, I drove to Kahala Mall. I met Lori in the Barnes & Noble® Café. We sat and chatted until almost 7pm. Lori is flying to New York tomorrow because of a family situation. So, it was timely that we were able to get together today.

I made one last stop at Foodland in the Aina Haina Shopping Center to procure something fast for dinner. Lard-filled Reser's® frozen burritos fit the bill. I also purchased a couple of delicious navel oranges. I was back in my squalid room by 7:30pm. I am sure that we can imagine what's in store for the rest of the evening.

Drop the Soap

Last night, I made a quick jaunt to Foodland in the Aina Haina Shopping Center. I had thought of going to Kahala Mall for the evening, but reneged on the idea. I purchased a couple of grocery items including a big-ass bag of Doritos® for a snack. I also perused the produce area. I wanted to get an idea of how much I will be spending when I convert my diet to fresh vegtables, that is, move away from canned goods. I was tempted to purchase a bottle of vino, but thought better of the idea. The last time that I indulged in cheap booze, I ended up with the currently lingering common cold. Sheesh!

After a good night's rest, if you can believe it, I was on my way to town on the bus to begin another homeless guy emulation kind-of-a-Sunday. I purchased only one air-filled energy bar and a cup of Seattle's Best® coffee at Safeway®. I then sat in the catacombs of Kukui Plaza. I have made the decision to limit the number of air-filled energy bars that I purchase. On weekdays and Saturday when I am in town, I will only purchase one air-filled energy bar because I plan to carry my small container of granola with me. On Sundays, I will no longer purchase any air-filled energy bars because I leave town much earlier.

After my brunch, I meandered to the makai (read: ocean) end of Fort Street Mall to loiter with a few of the homeless. I walked to the gym at 11:45am. No hottie gym trainer. Boohoo. I made note of a strange anomaly while I was doing my cardio session. I barely broke a sweat, and I did not feel any exhaustion. Upon further thought, I realized that the anomaly has been happening for the past few days. What is interesting is that I always set the time duration and workout level exactly the same. Previously, I had been able to achieve a satisfying level of exhaustion at that workout level. Strange things.

I was back in my squalid room at Slob Manor (read: rental housing) by 4pm. With little else to do, I decided to wash my Nissan® Frontier truck. It was completely filthy. It took me about an hour, mainly because I had to literally scrub the bird dung off of the paint. I'm at the point that I no longer want to maintain my truck. I am essentially ready to forfeit my 4000-pound motorized chair. I am also tired of paying for insurance and vehicle registration. The truck looked good when I was done. It needs a wax job, but I am putting that off indefinitely.

I ate the usual "rations" (read: beans and bread) for dinner, knowing that I was ingesting more carcinogenic bisphenol-A (BPA). Perhaps a few readers may wonder why I even worry about carcinogenic food. Why not just enjoy myself and eat whatever I want? I find that I do not really enjoy eating all that much. I have had a life of good eating as it stands. However, the human palate easily takes good food for granted. Soon, the food just tastes mediocre. Then, food becomes an activity to fill times of boredom. Really, though, the incentive for me to seek a healthy diet stems from the suffering that I have seen others go through. Tumors, cancers, diabetes, and other chronic illnesses are not a pleasant experience. The pain and suffering continues for the rest of one's life. In addition, the reliance on medication is not an option. Most fools just do not know what real pain and suffering is about. If I can postpone that kind of suffering for as long as possible, I will gladly eat plain granola day-in and day-out. As for the evening ... same ol' shit.

The Fed is guaranteed to lower short-term interest rates by at least 0.25 percent next week. The empire will be at the "war level" of two percent or less. Coincidentally, there has been an unusual amount of saber-rattling toward Iran in the past week or so. At such a low interest rate, any new war expenditures can be inflated away easily. Of course, in the meantime, there has been no relief for the millions who are losing their homes through foreclosure. With all that talk about the "subprime crisis," nothing came to fruition for the poor fools. The Fed did oblige the Wall Street investment banks by accepting all the useless toxic mortgage junk as "collateral." Soon, the costs will be borne by the rank-and-file peon taxpayers. Why not just bend over and "drop the soap" now?

The "condotel" unit was about $240 short of breaking even last month. However, that is much better than I had anticipated. The whole tourist industry was in an uproar when both Aloha Airlines and ATA closed down operations. In fact, tourist arrivals had abruptly dropped 14 percent this month even with already low occupancy levels.

What surprised me even more was that both of my tax return checks had already been deposited. In the past years, it has taken well over a month before the checks cleared. What does that tell you about government solvency? Be very scared.

Blinded by the Dark

I experienced another random choking event again last night. The common cold continues to ravage the oversized cranium, now in its 13th day. Sheesh! I had only half of a dosage of NyQuil® remaining. Gone in one gulp! I will not purchase any more NyQuil®. With food and petrol prices climbing so rapidly in Hawai'i, the loser's budget cannot afford any luxuries.

I have about a month's supply of basic non-perishable (i.e., canned goods) food. I have pretty much always kept that same supply level over the long run. However, that barely would suffice during a major food crisis. I am not a vegetarian per se, but I am trying to avoid beef, pork, poultry, and meat byproducts. Fish and seafood are acceptable. I don't believe that humans were designed to be carnivores. In fact, the human intestinal tract is more optimized for a vegetarian diet. The desire to eat large quantities of red meat is, of course, another reason that a food crisis is inevitable. Massive amounts of food crops must be diverted to feed livestock. Oh, what a tangled web we weave!

I slept a little better last night. However, I woke up at 1am only to discover that the Chinaman was yapping away again on his cell phone. I inserted my foam ear plugs and managed to go back to sleep. I woke up again at 4am. The Chinaman was still yapping away. Sheesh! Every few minutes, he cleared his throat loudly with, "Hoo-eey!" Is the clown a real cut-up, or what?

"You know, aside from my car, my construction boots are my most valuable possession. I try not to scuff them up at work. They are the same color as the ones Jerry Bremer wore in Iraq when he was Viceroy. Chicks love those boots. Hoo-eey! Let me tell you a story about those boots ... Hello? Can you hear me? ... One day I stepped on some dog shit with them. Hoo-eey! I took them off and smelled them. Fortunately, I keep a few napkins stuffed inside both boots. I took them out and cleaned off the dog shit. Hoo-eey! Not to let good napkins go to waste, I also blew my nose in the napkins ..."

Oh, spare me already. Stupid pake (read: Chinaman).

Another homeless guy emulation kind-of-a-Saturday has been mummified. I rode the Route 236 bus to Kahala Mall. I was the only passenger, just the way I like it. I transferred to a regular Route 1 bus to complete the trip to town. I was surprised to see that the bagels and air-filled energy bars are back in the small Safeway® bakery. They are now in the same cabinet with the doughnuts. I really enjoyed sitting outside near the Korean and Vietnam War memorial. Only the homeless and I seem to appreciate the surroundings. The wage slaves only come out of their offices for a smoke break.

I spent about three hours in the inner courtyard of the library. I commenced reading the book, "Blood Money Wasted Billions, Lost Lives, and Corporate Greed in Iraq," by T Christian Miller. What a depressing chronicle of greed and corruption! I felt so sickened that my entire day was ruined. Yet, Miller speaks the truth. And, the truth hurts. I had to put the book down before I lost my mind. I departed the library at 1pm to restore my monk haircut at the Institute of Hair Design. The haircut was mediocre at best. However, I was not in the mood to deal with trivial matters. I did my usual workout at the gym.

In the locker room, I happened to see an article in the local newspaper about polycarbonate plastic containers (recycle code: 7 PC) and the toxic chemical bisphenol-A (BPA) that leeches out into food products. As it turns outs, BPA is also prevalent in the epoxy-resin coating inside metal-canned products. I realized that I have been poisoning myself now for the last three years. I was in an even more unnerved state.

I rode the Route 3 bus to Kaimuki. After waiting a few minutes, I transferred to the appropriate Route 1 bus to return to Slob Manor (read: rental housing). I was back in my squalid room by 5pm. I ate my usual "rations" (read: beans and bread) for dinner with great consternation. I have made the decision to let my supply of canned goods run down with no possibility of replacing them. I will most likely convert to a fresh vegetable diet. The only exception will be a small stock of canned salmon, but that's subject to change.

The evening will consist of the same ol' shit. I will spend some time to reflect on the insane society that we reside in. We are inundated with lies every which way we turn. We are being poisoned by our food supply. We are ebing robbed blind. Those of us who can be classified as "rank-and-file peons" are being led to our own destruction, and we seemingly could care less. We are still blinded by ideologies and propaganda that only serve the elite ruling class.

Incidentally, the blockbuster exposé, "Behind TV Analysts, Pentagon’s Hidden Hand," by David Barstow in the NY Times was quite disturbing. "Hidden behind that appearance of objectivity, though, is a Pentagon information apparatus that has used those analysts in a campaign to generate favorable news coverage of the administration’s wartime performance," Barstow reported.

Frankly, I am not surprised. I have observed a similar phenomena on the bookshelves of libraries and bookstores. Many of the books of the "Current Affairs" and "Politics" genres are authored by NeoConMen think-tank shills. Only after careful perusal of the authors' profiles and the reviewer comments on the dustcover can the sham be exposed. One must pay very close attention to the authors' affiliations. Do not be fooled. Think-tanks are rolling in dough, usually generated from corporate interests. The books are packaged slickly, more evidence of Big Money. However, the content is even more slickly composed. Often made to appear scholarly, the bogus books include myriad references. Yet, even closer scrutiny reveals that the references are from other NeoConMen think-tank shills. Propaganda is proliferating and it's getting worse by the day.

Less Food, Less Sleep

Last night, I spent all evening with my beloved Toshiba® Satellite notebook computer. First, I finally uninstalled Adobe® Reader v7.0 and installed the much leaner Foxit Reader to replace it. Then, I installed the new AVG Free Anti-Virus v8.0 application. So far, though, there has been no sign of Service Pack 1 in my automatic updates. Am I permanently stuck with the old version of Windows® Vista? Say it ain't so!

Unfortunately, I did not get any sleep at all even after taking half of a dose of NyQuil®. I simply laid in the decrepit bed until 7:30am. In retrospect, I believe that the combination of the large coffee and all the red meat that I consumed yesterday are the culprits involved in my sleep deprivation.

As groggy as I was, I embarked on the homeless guy emulation kind-of-a-day at the usual time. Sadly, I confirmed that the Pali Safeway® will no longer be stocking bagels or air-filled energy bars. There has not been any since Tuesday. The bins are now filled with lard-filled cookies. As to be expected, the doughnut stock has not been affected. There are still an assortment of bakery rolls, but the latter are made from bleached flour with no obvious food value. Fortunately, I have been carrying my small container of granola with me. Granola, however, is not cheap. I will be making adjustments to my diet anyway in view of the upcoming food crisis.

As I was walking to the Korean and Vietnam War Memorial, I saw a homeless guy sitting in the small landscaped area next to the Kukui Plaza steps. He was stuffing his face with Cheetos®. As I said before, as money gets tighter, junk food will substitute for real food. I ate my granola and the one bleached flour bakery roll that I purchased along with my cup of coffee, I enjoyed the peaceful surroundings of the war memorial. As always, I ended up in the inner courtyard of the library, where I spent most of the time lapsing in and out of a coma. There are some strange life forms frequenting the library. Aside from the verified homeless, there are a number of unverified homeless. The latter group are better dressed, but seem to be toting around way too much luggage for a trip to the library. A guy dressed in a business outfit sat on the planter-bench combination in the courtyard. He took off his dress shoes. He then pulled out several crumpled napkins that were shoved into the front of both shoes. Next, he picked up the shoes and smelled them. Subsequently, he blew his nose into the crumpled napkins before wiping his shoes with them. He put his shoes back on and walked off. Strange things.

I did my usual workout at the gym before returning to Slob Manor (read: rental housing). The buses have been more crowded this week. Did the high petrol prices play a role? You be the judge. Ten or twenty more fat slobs on the bus makes for a crowded bus, but it does not affect the amount of traffic on the road. In fact, traffic seems to have increased. The evening? Same ol' shit.

Off the Grid

"One of the worst aspects of the consumer society is the separation between the individual and the products of the earth we utilize. We always assume that whatever we need will be there so long as we have money in our bank account or the ability to charge on a credit card and pay later." -- Richard C. Cook

With my bottle of NyQuil® near empty, I fear that I may have to purchase another bottle. The common cold has continued to ravage my physiology. Could I possbily have contracted tuberculosis? The latter scenario is a real possibility given that I ride the bus every day with a large number of the highest-risk population.

I was off to Kahala Mall this morning at 8:30am. I spent my time in the Barnes & Noble® Café. I perused a few computer nerd magazines. At 10:30am, I departed for Hawai'i Kai. I stopped to put a few dollars of petrol into the tank of my Nissan® Frontier truck. Whoa! Petrol now costs $3.72 per gallon for the lowest octane. Moms was home when I arrived. We only ended up at Foodland in Koko Marina. Moms purchased a few groceries. We also picked up a couple of steak barbeque plate lunches.

We brought the plate lunches back with the groceries. Moms served up fresh vegetables along with cinnamon rolls for dessert. Yum! I walked to the gym in Koko Marina. I did my usual workout. Rather than walk back, I rode the Route 232 shuttle. I said good-bye to moms and was on my way. I stopped off at Foodland in Koko Marina to do my own modest shopping. Then, I stopped at Longs® in Kuapa Kai to purchase some candy that moms wanted. I was back in my squalid room at Slob Manor (read: rental housing) by 4pm. The chronicle of redundancy need not detail any more except to state the obvious ... same ol' shit.

The food shortage crisis is probably coming around a lot sooner than I imagined. Certainly that's going to "throw a blackeye in da game." I have had a bad feeling about the food crisis now for a few weeks. That's what prompted me to write my mini-trilogy about the "boondoggle of the converging destinies."

I had hoped to be completely "off the grid," as it were, before the proverbial turd hits the fan. However, with each passing day, the latter likelihood appears rather dim. I can now only anticipate that I will be caught in the middle of the maelstrom when the inevitable destinies converge to yield the secular Apocalypse. Mind you, that's not a comforting thought. We are looking at the collapse of civilization as we know it into total anarchy and chaos. With it will come immense pain and suffering for the masses.

With that said, I must reallocate my resources to serve one purpose ... get off the grid. My contingencies are limited. While the idea of returning to wage slavery would seem to be most prudent course, I have my reservations. Having money does not insure that there will be anything of value to purchase. A worldwide recession will certainly not guarantee the availability of jobs. With the collapse of the airline industry, I can foresee a major economic downturn here in Hawai'i. With the highest food, housing, and petrol prices in the nation, Hawai'i will be first domino to fall in the empire. The end result will be ugly.

Random Choking

Last night, I slept rather peacefully given the prescribed NyQuil® inoculation. I was able to ingest the second dose at 4:40am. I actually felt much better this morning when I woke up. However, I still was experiencing the damned post-nasal drip and random choking (not da chicken). I have made note of the disturbing trend of random choking before in the journal.

Another homeless guy emulation kind-of-a-day has been quarantined to the past. I followed the usual itinerary. Brunch, courtesy Safeway®, was held at the Korean and Vietnam War Memorial. I was actually able to enjoy my time in the inner courtyard of the library because I was not lapsing in and out of a coma. I completed the reading of the book, "Babylon by Bus," by Ray LeMoine and Jeff Neumann. I did my usual workout at the gym. Then, in a flash, I was back in my squalid room at Slob Manor (read: rental housing). I was able to perform the dreaded laundry chores a day ahead of schedule. The same "rations" (read: beans and bread) were served up for dinner. My squalid room was like an overheated oven. There was not the slighest breeze. I observed that over half of the bottle of NyQuil® was already gone. The Pure T 'n A site was operational again, thank goodness. The evening? Random choking and the same ol' shit. Chronicle of redundancy.

Chronicle of Redundancy

The NyQuil® kicked in appropriately after I called it a night at 10:30pm. I woke up at 1pm for no apparent reason. I could hear the Chinaman yapping on the phone again, but he was not the cause of the awakening. I realized that my subconscious was trying to insure that I would not miss my next NyQuil® inoculation scheduled for 4am. I slept only lightly until that time. Then, after inoculating myself with another dose of NyQuil®, I went back to sleep. I was extremely groggy this morning. I was physically spent. Had I not dosed myself with NyQuil®, I probably would have had a turbulent and sleepless night.

There is a much scarier issue at play here. What will happen if I am overcome by some dreadful disease much more potent than the common cold? Will my senior citizen immune system be able to subdue the infection? The ramifications are clear, especially given my desire to remain medication-free. My guess is that there is a large percentage of the senior citizen demographic (i.e., 50-plus age group) who would not be alive today were it not for a proliferation of available medication.

Another homeless guy emulation kind-of-a-day has inoculated itself with NyQuil®. Yeah, same ol' shit. After consuming my mediocre Safeway® brunch at the Korean and Vietnam War Memorial, I spent about two hours in the inner courtyard of the library lapsing in and out of a coma. I actually felt better than I have in days. I did my usual workout at the gym before returning to Slob Manor (read: rental housing).

Naturally, I piddled around for a bit. Then, I served up the same detestable "rations" (read: beans and bread) for dinner. I also ate the hard-boiled egg that moms had given me yesterday. It's probably hard to imagine how good a hard-boiled egg could taste after months of "rations." I had purchased a box of Cascadian Farm® organic granola at Longs® yesterday. I sampled the granola this afternoon. I was impressed, so much so that I decided to drive my Nissan® Frontier truck to Kahala Mall at 8:30pm in search of more. I was disappointed to find that the granola was sold out at Longs®. Then, I realized that we are coming up to a major food crisis. The fools are beginning to hoard food. I purchased a few items that I really did not need in order to make the trip worthwhile. I spent a few minutes at Barnes & Noble® as well. I was back in my squalid room by 9:30pm, ready to resume the same ol' shit.

There could be a few readers of the "blog" who may be wondering why the ol' lavahead continues to chronicle, no less repeat, the same homeless guy emulation itinerary day-in and day-out. Why doesn't he just find a job, any job, and get back into the "mainstream"? Why does he fight the "American Dream"? He is only ostracizing and alienating himself from society-at-large. Because of his obstinacy, he is sacrificing what's left of his life and relegating himself to obscurity. Then, again, perhaps no one ever wonders about such nonsense.

Is there a method to the madness? Anyone who has keep up with the ramblings of the ol' lavahead from the days of the journal would know the answer. The ol' lavahead was once deeply entrenched in the many sick aspects of "American" society. At one point, he decided to exit society, but without any concrete plan. He was still basically grasping at straws, looking for a way back in, so to speak. Hence, he returned to the so-called "mainstream" with a vengeance. He became a "capitalist," a member of the petite (read: petty) bourgeoisie. He was an investor, a home owner, a big-ass truck owner. He created the mirage of Big Bank, Big House, and Big Car. He was trying hard to be Big Money Grip. Yet, he was Small Money Scum.

In the back of his mind, though, he was conflicted, mostly because of what he had read in the Book of Ecclesiastes in the Good Book. King Solomon had lamented about the vanity of the material life. What exactly does "ownership" mean when we do not even own our souls? We are mortal. There is nothing that we can truly own or possess. What we have is fleeting. It is simply an illusion. From his small "command center" (read: computer) in his squalid room, a filthy hovel, the ol' lavahead profusely reads the news and commentary from a variety of sources. He is watching the unfolding of ancient prophesy, the so-called "end times." There is no question in his mind that humanity is facing a secular Apocalypse of its own doing. However, the secular Apocalypse may be so devastating that it will invoke Divine intervention in the form of Armageddon.

No doubt, many people will laugh and turn away from such an assessment. They are too sophisticated, too intelligent, to believe in that crap. Yet, in their hearts, they have grown weary and despondent. They have lost hope for the future and, therefore, they feebly grasp at anyone who will offer "hope," albeit only rhetorically. They are too cynical and too proud to concede that the world has been infected by the epidemic of the "seven sins." It's right there in front of their very eyes, if only they would look and see. Instead, they are too eager to become one with the brethren of satanic gargoyles, the haughty ones who parade around with their hideous kabuki-masked smirks. They fail to realize that they are tools of the moneychangers and powers-that-be. In turn, none of them realize that they are all prostrating themselves at the altar of El Diablo.

Humanity is moving toward a degenerative trend not because of random cause-and-effect. What we are witnessing is the systematic seduction and destruction of humanity as was planned by the choreographer of evil itself. There is no other way to interpret how humans have used the gift of intelligence to usurp the common good. We are past the "point of no return." The acts of the evil ones have been beckoning the Almighty to act. And, now, the time has probably come.

NyQuil® Moment

Another tormenting night of post nasal drip and coughing left me completely fatigued. Now in its eighth day, the common cold is bringing me to my knees. My only worry is that pneumonia could be right around the corner. I departed for Hawai'i Kai this morning at 8:30am, right on schedule. Behind the wheel of my Nissan® Frontier truck, I joined the ranks of the myriad 4000-pound motorized chairs (read: automobiles) on the road. Yes, it's a big difference from the bus, my usual mode of transportation. Frankly, I would rather drive around everywhere. I could easily drive to the store in my big-ass truck to buy one small can of beans. However, what kind of social responsibility would I be exercising? None, I'm afraid.

I may be in the last two years of my driving lifetime. As it stands, I do not plan to renew my driver's license if I am required to take the driving test. I have driven 4000-pound motorized chairs for 38 years without any moving violations or accidents. I do not need my driving skills to be evaluated. With that said, I maneuvered my big-ass truck into the Koko Marina parking lot. I purchased a cup of coffee at Foodland.

Moms was home when I arrived. Moms was doing her usual Monday chores. I piddled around while I waited. It turned out that moms only wanted to shop at Foodland. A quick trip back to Koko Marina completed the task. For lunch, moms served lamp-baked chicken and fresh ahi poke courtesy Foodland, fresh vegetables, and rice. And, for dessert, Foremost® coffee ice cream. I chatted with moms briefly before walking to the gym in Koko Marina at 1pm.

I did only a cardio workout, but I was almost too fatigued to complete the latter. After a nice long shower, I walked back to say good-bye to moms. I made a stop at Longs® in Kuapa Kai specifically to purchase a bottle of NyQuil® that was on sale. Mind you, I have vowed to stay off any kind of medication. However, with the common cold rapidly becoming a pneumonia threat, I decided to break my vow. As you may recall, this is the second time that I have had to break the vow this year, both cases involved bouts with the common cold. Scary, isn't it?

I was back in my squalid room at Slob Manor (read: rental housing) by 3:30pm. Another day effectively "down the tubes." I dropped back half-a-dose of the NyQuil®. I became extremely groggy. There were a few moments that I had to lie down on the filthy floor. Aside from the drowsiness, none of the symptoms of the common cold abated. At 6pm, I was slightly more functional. The rest of the evening will follow the same ol' shit. I will chug down a full dose of NyQuil® about an hour before calling it a night.

Malnourished

The gale force winds were back with a vengeance last night. Dirt, dust, and crap were swirling around my squalid room even with the louvered windows closed. Naturally, that did little to quell the common cold to which I had fallen victim one week ago. The Chinaman returned to Slob Manor (read: rental housing) at 6pm. He was off to parts unknown again before eight o' clock. The fool has got to be high on amphetamines.

I called the night a done deal at 10:45pm. I was too groggy because of sleep deprivation. My sleep cycle was still hampered by the common cold (i.e., cough and post-nasal drip). I was still groggy this morning when I woke up. I also had a sinus headache. Nothing can deter the homeless guy emulation kind-of-a-day. So, I was off to town on the bus at 9:15am.

My first stop along the homeless guy itinerary was Safeway®. I noticed that the restroom was open again. It had been closed for a few days because someone had taken a huge dump and clogged the commode. I was able to redeem a coveted Signature Café® coupon for a free sandwich. I chose "The Pub." I purchased a couple of air-filled energy bars for old times' sake and a cup of fresh Seattle's Best® Colombian coffee. I sat in the catacombs of Kukui Plaza to eat my delicious meal. The sandwich was delicious. I savored every bite. Once I was done, I continued to sip my coffee. Then, I was overcome by a strange sensation. Food poisoning? No, I was overcome by a physical euphoria. I felt extremely content, even though I still had a trace of the sinus headache. I had so enjoyed the meal that my body was rejoicing.

I spent a little time sitting on one of the benches at the makai (read: ocean) end of Fort Street Mall. Then, I walked to the gym. As I was checking in at the front desk, I caught a glimpse of the hottie gym trainer. Baby sashayed into the employee's lounge. Baby had already changed into her civilian attire, so I knew that her shift was done. I did my usual workout, took a shower, and meandered to the bus stop. I was enjoying my homeless guy emulation kind-of-a-Sunday. The bus ride back to Slob Manor was uneventful. I was back in my squalid room by 3:30pm.

I piddled around for the rest of the afternoon. I had just received the latest issue of the AARP Magazine and the AARP Bulletin. So, I spent an hour so reading both publications. Then, I ate the usual "rations" (read: beans and bread) for dinner. While I was chowing down on the extremely bland fare, I wondered whether the "rations" were causing me to become severely malnourished. That would explain why I have not been able to buck the common cold for over a week. The evening? Same ol' shit.

Talk is Too Cheap

"Simplicity in your lifestyle will ensure you a happy life." -- Panda Express® fortune cookie.

We live in a truly bizarre and surreal empire. As I walk about during my homeless guy emulation kind-of-a-day, I am puzzled and disturbed that no one really seems to care about much except for the small little piece of the "ownership" pie that he or she may possess. That piece of pie could be a cookie-cutter home in the suburbs, a rat-trap condo, a gas-guzzling 6000-pound motorized chair (read: SUV), a cell phone, or even a pack of cigarettes, naturally dependent upon one's financial disposition. Big Money Grip or Small Money Scum, it does not matter. Now, during tax return week, the fools could be doling out a sum money which, even in small way, is helping to finance the empire's 700-plus military garrisons worldwide or fund the current (and future) resource wars. Yet, the fools are too busy admiring or playing with whatever material possessions that they own to even notice.

For some reason, I woke up at 1:10am this morning. As groggy as I was, I could hear talking in the background. The damned Chinaman! He was at it again. I inserted my foam ear plugs, but that did little to attenuate the squawking cacophony of China-speak. I lapsed in and out of a near-coma. However, I could still hear the Chinaman loud and clear. The fool broke his own record. He talked almost non-stop until 5am. He's a carpenter, for goodness sakes. What does he have to talk about?

"Well, carpentry is a very exciting field. Why, today, I had to saw a two-by-four to the exact length of seven feet. That is not a job for the weak-willed. I grasped the two-by-four ... are you listening to me? ... I grasped the two-by-four with one hand. With the other hand, I sliced through the wood with my circular saw. Zip! It was done. Like a hot knife through butter. Next, I had to ..."

Or, perhaps, he waxes philosophic about his ol' hoopty, a beat-up Chevy® Cavalier:

"Only the privileged can drive a car like mine. Obviously, I am one of the privileged. The paint needs a little work, but it's what's under the hood that counts ... Hello? Can you hear me? ... I change the oil. I tune the engine myself. It's a lean, mean American drivin' machine. Chicks check me out when I drive by. I know every specification of that car by heart. Let me recite them for you ..."

What is even more strange is that the Chinaman departed for parts unknown at 5:30am. Is the clown on amphetamines?

I was extremely groggy when I departed for town at 8:30am to begin my homeless guy emulation kind-of-a-Saturday. We all know the drill. Safeway®. Korean and Vietnam War Memorial. Inner courtyard in the library. Gym. And, yes, I was still illin', thanks to the Chinaman. I only had one incident with a fat slob on the bus ride back to Slob Manor (read: rental housing). That's quite good considering that almost all of the passengers were obese.

Once back in my squalid room, I handwashed my gym clothes as I must do every day. By the way, I was glad that I performed the dreaded laundry chores yesterday, albeit two days earlier than expected. I would have been too fatigued this afternoon. I ate my usual "rations" (read: beans and bread) for dinner. The evening will consist of the same ol' shit.

Climate

My bout with the common cold continued on through the night. Knowing that I did not feel well since Sunday, I came to the startling observation that I have been illin' for five days straight. Something is not right. Perhaps it is the fact that I have had to part with a large sum of money on Monday to pay my IRS tax. I will be mailing my State tax ($299) and automobile registration ($219) later in the day. That's enough to make anybody sick. Sheesh!

Hard a sit may be imagine, I endured another homeless guy emulation kind-of-a-day. I was extremely groggy again this morning. Thus, I was compelled to purchase a large cup of Seattle's Best® coffee at Safeway®. I spent a good portion of the day in the inner courtyard of the library. Then, I did my usual workout at the gym. I was moving in slow motion, by the way. I rode the bus back to Slob Manor (read: rental housing) in a comatose state. I did happen to notice that the waves off of Kawaikui Beach Park were looking good. I could see a lot of surfers out in the water. Oh well, I am completely disabled by the common cold. I will spend all evening in my squalid room engaging in the same ol' shit. I'll probably still be illin' tomorrow.

As chronicled in the old journal, when I first returned to Hawai'i a decade or so ago, I noticed that the sun was considerable hotter. What I mean by "hotter" is that I experienced sunburn very quickly. I also observed that the weather in Hawai'i has changed since my childhood. The humidity I fondly remembered is now not quite as moist. The frequent year-round intermittent showers are also a thing of the past. My sunburn is probably caused by a depleted ozone layer. The weather change, of course, is part of the phenomenon known as "global warming" or global climate change. Anecdotal evidence aside, there is no question that there are severe global climate changes which will eventually disrupt life as we know it.

I do not have to refer to the myriad scientific testimony on melting glaciers and so forth that point to the alarming conclusion. However, I have wonder about the brain donors, the "doubting Thomases," who just cannot believe that global climate change is occurring and it caused by stupid humans. Carbon dioxide is the culprit. It is a so-called "greenhouse" gas because it raise high into the atmosphere, then hovers around and reflects heat back to the planet's surface. Were it not for the "greenhouse" gases, the earth would be a frozen wasteland, even with the sun's heat radiation. The problem is that human stupidity has caused an overabundance of "greenhouse" gases and so the "greenhouse" (read: earth) is getting warmer. The major cause is the burning of fossil fuels such as coal and petrol. In addition, intentional deforestation and the paving over of the planet has affected the planet's temperature.

It's almost tragic enough to think that an increase of a couple of degrees in temperature would cause a huge problem like melting glaciers. Many inhabitants of small islands and atolls are in deep shit, so to speak. However, an even greater problem is that melting glaciers introduce extremely cold water into the oceans. When the cold water flows into something like the Gulf Stream, then major weather pattern disruptions occur. We may see floods in areas that normally have no floods. Wet areas may experience droughts. Obviously such weather problems could be considered a minor nuisance if the latter did not affect crops and food production.

We cannot expect selfish interests of humans to cease. The myriad satanic gargoyles will not give up their 4000- and 6000-pound motorized chairs (read: automobiles). They will not cut back on an energy-intensive life-style. Hence, human obstinance will only expedite the demise of the entire planet. Yet, that is the legacy of the boondoggle of converging destinies.

Oil

Last night, I read about the untimely passing of Mr. Ray's ex-babe as recorded in his "blog." She was apparently only 30 years of age. Condolences are offered by all of us here at LoserNet®. I did not sleep well at all. The common cold has completely ravaged my physical being. How could this be? And, what's going to happen when I am older and more decrepit?

I was extremely groggy when I departed for Kahala Mall this morning at 8:30am. I was looking forward to a nice hot cup of coffee in the Barnes & Noble® Café. I read a few computer magazines to pass the time. Later, I perused a few of the new books. I drove to Hawai'i Kai at 10:35am. As I was cruising along in my Nissan® Frontier truck, I observed the sheer number of us on the road with our 4000-pound motorized chairs (read: automobile). I realized that no one would be willing to give up this unsustainable life-style, that is, no one except for the ol' lavahead. The citizens of the empire will burn every last drop of oil or starve (i.e., redirect food crops to produce biofuel) before making such a concession.

I arrived a few minutes before moms returned home. Moms and I ate lunch at Panda Express® in the Hawai'i Kai Towne Center. We sat outside near the Kuapa Pond waterfront and ate our plate lunches. The sky was quite overcast because of the "vog." Then, we stopped off at Foodland in Koko Marina. Moms shopped for groceries. I only chatted with moms briefly before departing at 12:50pm. I decided to drive back to Koko Marina. I parked adjacent to the library rather than fight for a parking space. I did my usual workout at the gym, although I was completely fatigued. I shopped for my own groceries at Foodland before returning to Slob Manor (read: rental housing) at 3:30pm. I took care of a variety of piddly personal chores before resigning myself to an evening of the same ol' shit.

Peak Oil is here whether we care to acknowledge that fact or not. And, really, it does not matter whether oil production is increasing or not. Demand is what counts. And, demand is currently outstripping supplies. As more Second- and Third-World nations continue to come on line, there is no hope of returning to the days of cheap oil. Current oil prices, however, reflect the chaotic state of the financial "system." The injection of a huge supply of cheap money into the "system" has caused a knee-jerk inflationary reaction. Hence, oil prices, as determined by nefarious commodities market speculators, will remain high. Given the structural problems with the financial "system," it is clear that a protracted monetary crisis will never abate as the real Real Peak Oil scenario unfolds.

We are already in the throes of a series of full-fledged of resource wars. Only a moron would argue otherwise. The empire has squandered its "peace dividend" after the fall of the Soviet Union to engage in a full-bore offensive to control world resources. The previous policy to "garrison" the planet with military bases was not adequate. The instability of the Middle East (ironically caused by the Western powers through history) had now upped the ante. Full colonization is the only logical next step to insure total resource hegemony. That's the true purpose of the Afghan and Iraqi experiments. The real problem, as the empire sees it, is Russia and China. The race is on. Given the latter purview of the empire's agenda, the future becomes quite clear. There will be a full-scale regional or possible global war as a result. The prognosis is inevitable.

Unbelievers may be too foolish to realize that Peak Oil will signify the end of civilization as we know it, primary "Western"-style civilization. For many of us, the day cannot arrive soon enough. Yet, there is no need for me to discuss the matter much further.

Food

A near-sleepless night left me extremely groggy again this morning. Nonetheless, I was compelled to embark on the journey that I adoringly label a "homeless guy emulation kind-of-a-day." For the most part, my itinerary and sanity remained intact, although I was tested a couple of times by ordinary idiots. I surprised myself again by completing my entire workout regimen at the gym even though I was not able to cast off the fatigue. I rode and extremely late and crowded bus back to Slob Manor (read: rental housing). Oddly, my squalid room was hotter than a smoldering oven. Last night, icy gale force winds ripped through the "wind tunnel." Today, I could have baked a chicken in there given the high ambient temperature.

Whenever I walk around the Safeway® store in town, I noticed the sheer amount of food, food byproducts, fake food that is stocked in every nook and cranny. Mind you, the Safeway® in town is a ghetto store. Ethnic minorities, derelicts, and the homeless are frequently spotted shopping there. However, the quantity of food displayed is deceptive. In a food crisis, as we will no doubt experience as early as this year, the shelves would be empty in a matter of hours. Even without a panic, there would be no more than three days supply. That is the illusion of plenty. Perhaps what is more deceiving is the mind-boggling presence of food byproducts and fake food as opposed to real food. The general rule is that real food is displayed along the perimeter of the store. These include the the basic food types such as fruits and vegetables, dairy products, meat and fish, and staples such as bread. The majority of the rest of the store comprise the broader category known as "processed foods." The majority of food in the latter category are food byproducts and fake food. One look at the ingredients reveals all. The scary part is that, were it not for the wide variety of "processed foods," there would be very little real food in the common market.

Fake food and food byproducts are created using as little real food as possible. All kinds of filler and chemicals are added to increase bulk. High-fructose corn syrup, saturated fats, and nutrients are also added to make up for blandness and missing food value. Mind you, fake food and food byproducts are not cheap. However, they are much more inexpensive than real food and far more filling. The chilling aspect of the "processed food" reality is that we would have long ago experienced a real food crisis (i.e., shortage) were it not for the abundance of food byproducts and fake food.

Is real food any safer? Marginally perhaps. Real food has been saturated with insecticides and chemical pollution, genetically manipulated, and so forth. I personally am most wary of meat and poultry. "Processed foods," on the other hand, pose even greater health threats. The human body cannot consume all kinds of chemicals with no adverse effect. The epidemics of obesity, tumors, cancer, and cardiac failure would suggest otherwise. With that said, I believe that the first phase of food crisis is already upon us. The food is killing us. The next phase will be food shortages and global starvation. And, that is only one part of the boondoggle of converging destinies.

Pavlovian Dogs

Caroll has been in contact with me recently. She is still in Santa Cruz. She is working part-time at Longs® and will be starting another position in car sales again. I was happy to hear that she had "downsized" by ridding herself of all the useless crap that she paid to keep in storage for years. And, if you recall the trials and tribulations that she has gone through (which I often detailed in the old journal), then you will agree that Caroll is an urban survivalist extraordinaire.

I also was able to contact Shirley by e-mail. Her b-day was on April 9th, but I was moving at a senior citizen's pace in contacting her. She seems to be doing fine. we are supposed to get together for lunch sometime.

I did not sleep at all last night. The common cold manifested itself into a non-stop deluge of the dreaded post-nasal drip. I have not been illin' in years, and now I have two terrible bouts with the common cold in a matter of weeks. I suspect that old age is beginning to wield one its uglier heads, that is, the toll that minor illnesses exact on an aged and debilitating body. I can only expect the situation to worsen.

I was extremely groggy when I embarked on another homeless guy emulation kind-of-a-day. The homeless would have no option to stay at home. Thus, I ventured out of the safe environs of my squalid room to fulfill my quest. I really did not want to go to the gym today, but I forced myself to do so. I completed the entire rigorous workout even given my state of fatigue. I returned to Slob Manor (read: rental housing). As fatigued as I am, I will engage in the mindless activity of the "same ol' shit" variety for the rest of the evening.

"And it's not surprising then they get bitter, they cling to guns or religion or antipathy to people who aren't like them or anti-immigrant sentiment or anti-trade sentiment as a way to explain their frustrations." That's the sentence uttered by Barack Obama that is causing an unusual amount of brouhaha in the so-called "mainstream media," so much so that that Joe Bageant , Jim Kunstler (on Clusterfuck Nation), and even the Rude Pundit have had to throw in a few words. "For me, listening to politicians talk, then listening to the media talk about politicians talking, rates right up there with swapping spit with a gingivitis victim. I do not like nor trust nor much listen to Hillary, McCain or Obama. And I wouldn't vote for any of the three even if they knocked on my door bearing a bucket of smoked pork ribs and a bottle of Jack Daniels," opined Bageant. I'm inclined to agree with him.

Frankly, none of the candidates can even close to understanding what bitterness is all about, especially for those of us who comprise the class of the economically disenfranchised. The ol' lavahead is one digit in the pathetic statistics of the demographics of the lowest social class. Emancipated from wage slavery, he has found himself caught in a new prison of survival in a culture of greed and arrogance. Locked in ever-increasing poverty, the ol' lavahead can only pray that good health will keep him free of medical bankruptcy for he has no health insurance. As a senior citizen, he will never be able to capture "gainful" employment again even if he actually desired to be enslaved. His life-style has been degraded so low that there is little difference between himself and the average homeless guy. Bitter, indeed.

Attempting to remain informed against the grain of mass ignorance is a true test of stamina and will. The "herd mentality" is akin to the proverbial "bull charging to the slaughter." Only a few of the astute are truly bitter. The rest are somehow intoxicated by an illusive "hope," a never-fulfilled dream that is perpetuated by smooth talk and shifty hands eager to play the "shell game" on unwitting fools. The hand is quicker than the eye and, sadly, even quicker than the brain.

Each and every day, the ol' lavahead embeds himself in the heart of the dysfunctional masses of society that should have long ago revolted given their pathetic circumstances. Locked into a life of cell phones, cigarettes, junk food, the tube, and bus passes, none of them can see the trees from the forest. A diet completely consisting of high-fructose corn syrup and saturated fat has left them obese, lethargic, apathetic, and possibly comatose. They are Pavlovian dogs, only equipped to react to the sight of shiny objects or pasty fast food. They salivate. The ol' lavahead cringes. Yet, both are in the same place at the same time. That's where the similarities end. The rank-and-file peons are bitter because they are being denied the "American Dream." The ol' lavahead is bitter because he can no longer tolerate human destruction of both humanity itself and the planet.

Converging Destinies Boondoggle

"If this was a nation that was ready to peer into its closet, now being slowly opened, if we were a reflective people, we would realize that our willful ignorance has rendered us victims of an enforced innocence, that we have, indeed, ignored the smell of our American rot." -- Rude Pundit

Last night, the gale force winds increased in velocity to the point that the closed louvers in my squalid room were essentially useless. I feared that all of the glass louvers would shatter at any moments. Rain finally accompanied the winds, which meant that another storm has hit the islands.

I felt some unusual pains in the area of my liver, no doubt because of my cheap booze binge. My tolerance for alcohol has declined drastically. I wasn't hammered by any means. However, I do not believe that I am physically able to consume any alcoholic beverages. I seriously suspect that my many years of near-alcoholic levels of cheap booze consumption has caused serious liver damage. I do not know why I continue to tempt fate given such dim prospects. I am no better than the fat slobs whom I continuously denigrate. [Update: Oh boy. I later discovered that the pain was the result of "gas," no doubt caused by the beans that I had consumed for dinner.]

I was on my way to Hawai'i Kai this morning at 8:30am. I was feeling somewhat groggy because I have been suffering from what appears to be the common cold. My first stop was Foodland in Koko Marina to procure my morning cup of coffee. Moms was home when I arrived. Moms wanted to shop at Longs® in Kahala Mall. So, we were on our way at 10:30am. I made a quick stop at the Post Office in Aina Haina to mail my IRS tax return (with a $873 check enclosed to help fund the empire's corruption) and my credit card payment. When we returned, moms served leftovers for lunch along with rice and fresh vegetables. After lunch, I walked to the gym in Koko Marina. I did my usual cardio workout. I walked back to say good-bye to moms.

I made another stop at Foodland in Koko Marina. I also stopped off at Longs® in Kuapa Kai to purchase a big-ass container of generic psyllium. I was back in my squalid room at Slob Manor (read: rental housing) by 4pm. With nothing better to do, I opted to perform the dreaded laundry chores, albeit two days earlier than expected. The rest of the day was the same ol' shit. The evening? Same ol' shit, of course!

Well, there's been a lot of news coverage about food riots around the world. Food and water are becoming scarce commodities. Then, there's Peak Oil and global climate change. Throw in the financial turmoil caused by the greedy moneychangers and the wars of empire devised by the powers-that-be. Everything is beginning to converge. The moment we have been waiting for may be right at our doorstep. The secular Apocalypse? Let's hope so! I want to get down on my hands and knees and pray to the Almighty, humble as I am, to see the onslaught of the secular Apocalypse, the precursor to Armageddon. Lord knows that there have been too many of the empire's "privileged" who have never ever experienced pain and suffering as so many of the planet's masses have. Oh, the justice! Oh, the vanity! Oh, the horror! Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaa!

Blob Phobia

I neglected to mention that I ran into Ralph, dean at HCC, at the library yesterday. He was doing some research for a class that he's taking. He already has a doctorate, but he's still taking more classes. Whassup wi' dat? "Lifelong education," he told me. In actuality, he is considering a Master's degree in order to qualify to teach classes at the community college level. Sounds stupid, doesn't it? Typical "red tape." He needs the exact Master's degree to match the type of course that he desires to teach. His doctorate is not in that field. I promised to get in touch with him so that we can get together sometime to chat.

Last night, I was so completely degraded by my crushing exposure to those filthy, amorphous blobs on the bus that I had to make an "emergency" jaunt to Foodland in the Aina Haina Shopping Center. I procured a bottle of Fox Brook Chardonnay (i.e., "Holy Water") to cleanse my soul. I also purchased a bag of Lay's® Wavy Ranch greasy potato chips to augment the exorcism process. Perhaps I am subconsciously attempting to become a fat slob. Who knows?

Another homeless guy emulation kind-of-a-Sunday has spanked da monkey. Brunch, as always, was courtesy Safeway®. The park adjacent to the Beretania Street Apartments was overtaken by the homeless, so I spent an hour or so sitting on one of the benches along Fort Street Mall near Bank of Hawai'i. The hottie gym trainer was busy working with a gym member in the weight room when I arrived. Baby was looking mighty fine. I did my usual workout while trying my best to not be distracted by baby. Later, I was able to board a bus immediately upon arrival at the bus stop, so I was back in Slob Manor (read: rental housing) by 3pm. Fortunately, I did not have a traumatic encounter with any mahu-blobs. Several obese-types boarded the bus at subsequent bus stops, and I will admit that I cringed when it seemed as though they could be filing to the back of the bus where I was sitting. Blob phobia? Back in my squalid room, I polished off the remainder of the bottle of Fox Brook Chardonnay and the rest of the bag of greasy potato chips. Then, I ate the usual "rations" (read: beans and bread) for dinner. The evening? Same ol' shit.

The gale force winds are back. Dirt, dust, and all kinds of crap were flying about and swirling around my squalid room. A layer of crap settled upon my Toshiba® Satellite notebook computer within seconds. Wiping the crap off is futile. I closed the windows, but my squalid room became uncomfortably warm. Even cracking the louvers open slightly resulted in a huge swarm of gale force winds flowing through the "wind tunnel."

Amorphous Blob Torture

As I stated a few days ago, the empire's government is out of control. The latest revelations about high-level discussions amongst the upper echelon of the Shrub administration concerning the use of "enhanced interrogation" (read: torture) techniques is utterly disgusting. Are Shrub and Chaney both into BDSM? I believe so. They seem to find so much pleasure in dispensing pain. For a real analysis of this crisis, I immediately sought out the untainted [deleted] site. An excerpt:

These revelations are further confirmation that the crimes at Abu Ghraib and other instances of torture were not the actions of rogue individuals, but were planned and ordered by the White House.

Speaking to the [deleted], Francis Boyle, a professor of international law and human rights at the University of Illinois, said, "Clearly this was criminal activity at the time they committed it. At the very least, it violated the Geneva Conventions, the Convention Against Torture, the War Crimes Act, and the federal anti-torture statutes. Clearly these would be impeachable offenses."

Yeah, but noboby cares. They're too busy reading the movie reviews. I would assume that the empire is getting closer to invoking an incursion into Iran. The war rhetoric is reaching a feverish pitch. In fact, the same propaganda strategy is being used, the one that promoted the incursion into Iraq. As you may recall, it all began with Saddam's alleged possession of WMDs and his alleged ties to Al Qaeda. Then, the modus operandi changed to the "liberation" of Iraq and "bringing democracy to the Middle East." And so, with Iran, the initial allegations are that Iran is developing nuclear weapons. However, the shift in strategy is now focusing on Iran's alleged arming and training of Iraqi "insurgents." Do you see the pattern? It's the old swindle called "bait and switch." According to Patrick Buchanan, "This is Bush's last chance to strike and, when Iran responds, to effect its nuclear castration. Are Bush and Cheney likely to pass up this last chance to destroy Iran's nuclear facilities and effect the election of John McCain? For any attack on Iran's 'terrorist bases' would rally the GOP and drive a wedge between Obama and Hillary. We can assume that the attack will begin with air strikes on key targets. If the empire was planning a ground assault of any kind, it is facing a rapidly closing window of opportunity as the hot Summer weather commences. The next window for a ground invasion will not open until early Fall of this year. By that time, the Fed should have lowered short-term interest rates to the "war level."

Another homeless guy emulation kind-of-a-day ... Safeway®, Korean and Vietnam War Memorial, library, gym ... same ol' shit. Riding the bus was a nightmare, going to and coming back from town. I boarded an extremely late Route 1 bus this morning. I was actually waiting for the Route 236 bound for Kahala Mall where I would transfer to a Route 1 bus. I came up with the new Saturday morning itinerary in order to avoid crowded buses. Well, the Route 1 bus was crowded and the air-conditioner was not operational. I asked the bus driver if I could open the roof vent. He did not realize that the air-conditioner was not working. Along the way, a mentally-deficient fat slob boarded the bus. I was sitting in the center seat at the rear of the bus. The clown attempted to squeeze into the seat between me and another porker sitting at the end. Naturally, he plopped his fat ass down with half of his bulk sitting on the left half of my body. "You're sitting on me, man," I told the dickhead. Do I look like a cushion? Fortunately, he had some synaptic activity in his bloated cranium to comprehend what I said to him. He moved to another seat.

The ride back to Slob Manor (read: rental housing) was even worse. Almost the entire back section of the bus was filled with extremely obese slobs. The front of the bus was not much better. I sat on a seat that supposedly can accommodate three passengers. A fat-ass babe (term used loosely) sat at the other end. Then, an extremely obese babe (term used loosely) boarded the bus. I could feel the bus rocking from side to side as the hippopotamus lumbered to the back of the bus. The only remaining seat available was between the other fat slob and me. I saw the huge bloated ass coming in for a landing. Thud! Suddenly I was engulfed by an amorphous and blobbish mass. The fat oozed around and conformed to the entire left half of my body as the bulk of blob settled in the seat. I could feel the weight of the gelatinous mass begin to increase as it settled in place. I was being crushed alive. I quickly pried myself free and stood up. Worst of all, the blob knew the other fat-ass slob. As the blob spoke, I detected that "she" was actually a transvestite, a damned mahu-blob.

I was finally able to sit on one of the seats along the back of the bus, my favorite spot. The mahu-blob disembarked near the university district. The other fat slob alighted at Kahala Mall. She (term used loosely) experienced extreme difficulty getting up from the seat. Frankly, it was a sickening sight. To complete the bus nightmare, the driver missed my bus stop. I was perturbed, but I just stayed on the bus until I arrived at the Hawai'i Kai Park & Ride. Frankly, I was not in the mood to walk a half-mile in the hot sun.

To my credit, I did not explode in a tirade during any of my trying moments today. I have resigned myself to accept that I am riding the bus, the passengers of which are from the economically disenfranchised demographic. The bus is their only mode of transportation. The majority of them are fat slobs because they are purchasing food that has the most bulk for the dollar (i.e., junk processed food). They cannot afford to buy good food. In addition, they do not have the financial means to do anything else for recreation except to eat junk food. Five dollars can purchase a very small bag of granola, or it could buy two big boxes of lard-filled doughnuts at the bakery thrift shop. Junk food is designed to create an addiction while simultaneously affecting the brain's synaptic functioning. In other words,junk food creates a craving for more of the same junk food, and its malnourishment starves the brain into a stupor.

I was finally back in my squalid room at 6pm. I was relieved to be back in the dump. I was also grateful that I wasn't crushed into oblivion by the various sub-human steamrollers that I encountered on the bus. Oh, just to eat my cold "rations" (read: beans and bread) was a welcome event. Another evening of the same ol' shit isn't so bad after all.

Don't Take It Personal

"As we hit this rock-bottom fear, we must now ask ourselves if our ultimate objective in facing, talking about, and preparing for collapse is pure survival, or if it's larger than that. You see, this is the part that many people who are talking about 'collapse preparation' fail to discuss. It's much easier to talk about stockpiling food and water or where one is going to invest one's money or how one is going to purchase precious metals or what skills one needs to learn for survival. It is far more risky and scary to talk about emotional and spiritual preparation for collapse. All of the other preparations are pretty much about making rational decisions based on adequate information. But when we begin preparing our souls for collapse, we're in a completely different dimension, and I argue, the most frightening as well as the most replete with potential ..." -- Carolyn Baker from the article, "Recession, Depression, Collapse: What's Fear Got to do with it?"

Carolyn Baker makes a good point, doesn't she? A couple of weeks ago, Baker stated, "No more 'evidence' of collapse is needed; it's happening here and now and with dizzying speed." In all honesty, I am in full agreement with her. Baker added, "Never in the history of this planet has such a juxtaposition of crises presented itself to its inhabitants. What we are witnessing is nothing less than Peak Earth." In essence, that is the premise that I am following in pursuing the exodus. What I fear is that the collapse (i.e., secular Apocalypse) will occur before the final phase of the exodus is initiated.

Survival has always been an issue for me. I have consistently lived near the fringe of society on a mere pittance. Even now, I am forced to continue "downsizing," yet what is there left for me to divest? I subsist on the bare minimum of food "rations" that could clearly be defined as a "starvation diet." I am maybe months, perhaps years, ahead of the secular Apocalypse. However, I have already invoked near-emergency survival procedures. The only logical step remaining would be for me to become truly homeless by the clinical definition.

The greed, corruption, and utter filth of the moneychangers and the powers-that-be (i.e., the ruling class) and their brethren disciples, the myriad satanic gargoyles, have finally brought us to the crucial turning point of civilization. We are the doomed Moai on Planet Easter Island.

As for money, I have concluded that the paper fiat money has been reduced to a joke. I am watching inflation cut right into the value of the paper dollar. Petrol prices in Hawai'i continue to rise. The second price hike now yields $3.60 per gallon for the lowest grade. In town, a few place are already as high as $3.66 per gallon. Even the cost of a can Van Camps® Pork & Beans has gone up by six cents (sale price at Longs®). While seemingly a small and laughable amount, the increase is twelve percent in one month. Only products made in China are still cheap.

The Fed has pushed interest rates down by flooding the money supply. Thus, all interest-bearing accounts earn a pittance. Imagine the grief of senior citizens like the ol' lavahead who depend on such income. The whole problem stems from the so-called "banking crisis," the one Bernanke is feverishly attempting to alleviate by increasing money supply. I highly recommend reading the article titled, "Credit Default Swaps: Derivative Disaster Du Jour," by Ellen Brown on the Web of Debt site. Unless one is of the elite class, money is a joke.

Thus, I have disengaged myself from my previously vigilant money management. Mind you, I am not going "hog wild" and buying crap on a whim. I am far beyond the point where I need to distract myself with shiny objects or to alleviate pain with consumerism. My self-discipline is increasing by the day, and I can attribute the latter success to the homeless guy emulation. To make a long story short, I will be revamping or restating my strategic plan as we move closer to the final phase of the exodus.

The gentle trade winds (not gale force) returned last night. There has been no wind for two days even with the rain. Nonetheless, the wind did little to clear the skies. Morning brought another gloomy, overcast day. I slept fairly well, only getting up twice during the night to "drain the lizard." If the Chinaman had been yapping on the phone, I somehow missed it.

Another homeless guy emulation kind-of-a-day was almost surreal in its replication of most other days of homeless guy emulation. The day went by without incident, although there were a few close calls. As I crossed the street in town with my gym bag and my cup of coffee from Safeway®, a group of Diploma Mill students were approaching me from the opposite direction. None of them wanted to yield to me in the crosswalk, so I rammed into several of them, one after the other, without spilling a drop of coffee. Yeah! Normally, I would have opened up Lou's School of Etiquette for matriculation. Rather, I said nothing. None of the idiots said anything either. I noticed that none of the students were talking to each other, so they were only walking together as a group. They had just alighted a bus. Then, it dawned upon me that I was seeing the "American" herd mentality in action. They were empowered and felt impregnable because of their numbers. It was I who had to move, even if it meant that I would have to step into the traffic. However, since they were strangers in a group, no one individual would have the courage to confront me. I walked on. Had anyone attempted to chastise me, that person would have been the recipient of a new strategy. Rather than punch the fool in the face, I would have held out my hand and asked, "Spare change?"

The rest of the day was mundane. In the inner courtyard of the library, I am now reading the book, "It's the Crude, Dude!" by Linda McQuaig. I had previously perused the book at Barnes & Noble®. I am finally getting around to reading it completely. I did my usual workout at the gym. The Route 1L bus was did not arrive at the schedule time, so I decided to walk a couple of blocks down Hotel Street into Chinatown to the next bus stop. A slight drizzle commenced which confirmed my decision. The two block section in question is where all of the sleazy derelict bars are located one next to the other. Drunken fools are seen staggering in and out of the bars all day long. Two older babes (term used loosely) were standing outside one of the bars as I walked by. "You work out at the gym? You look good," one of them told me. I thanked her.

The Route 1L bus arrived just as I reached the bus stop. The bus was 20 minutes late, so it filled up fairly quickly along the route. I observed that a large number of the passengers were either overweight or obese. I noticed a middle-aged guy sitting two seats away. He was eating two greasy Micky Dee's® cheeseburgers. I could smell the grease. He used a packet of salt on each burger. Eating on the bus is prohibited, by the way. He wore a T-shirt. I could see a roll that encircled the periphery of his girth. It looked like a small inner tube. His chest sagged and rested on the "inner tube." How can someone let himself go like that? How will he survive the secular Apocalyspe? He was not in the minority.

Incidentally, my definition of "overweight" is being about five to ten pounds over ideal weight. Anything above that is obese. That sounds strict, doesn't it? However, fat cells are much more voluminous than muscle mass. Ten pounds of fat is a lot of bulk. Ten pounds of muscle would not be as conspicuous.

I arrived back at Slob Manor (read: rental housing) at 5:15pm. There will be nothing on the agenda. I have nowhere to go. I have no one to visit. I only have myself to keep me company in my squalid room. Same ol' shit. That's the way it's going to be once the secular Apocalypse arrives or when I am eligible for the true "old man malaise," whichever comes first. The title for today's blog is courtesy the track of the same name by Wahoo (featuring Paul Randolph) heard on DI.FM Deep House channel.

Feeling the Pinch

"Who do they think they are? They are no longer the owners of the world." -- Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad in response to criticism by the empire over Iranian nuclear ambitions.

I was groggy when I was awakened at 3:40am this morning. I could hear the nauseating voice of the Chinaman squawking out Chinaspeak on the phone. I was not able to go back to sleep even after the Chinaman stopped gabbing. I finally got up at 8am. The weather was somewhat dismal, although the rain had clearly stopped. I was on my way at 8:30am. My first stop was the Post Office in the Aina Haina Shopping Center. Sadly, I discovered that I had 20 minutes to wait before it opened for business. I decided to move on. My next stop was Kahala Mall. I spent about 90 minutes in the Barnes & Noble Café. I enjoyed a cup of coffee while I perused a few magazines.

At 10:30am, I was on my way again. I made another stop at the Post Office in the Aina Haina Shopping Center. My sole purpose was to insure that I has sufficient postage attached to my tax returns. I will be mailing them next week. Moms was home when I arrived. Moms mentioned that my bro could return home at any time due to the rain affecting the work at the construction site. Thus, moms and I ended up at Yummy's Korean Barbeque in Koko Marina. There was no place to sit and eat in the small shop, so we sat and ate lunch on one of the benches near the Foodland side of Koko Marina. Later, moms served up Foremost® coffee ice cream for dessert.

I departed for the Hawai'i Kai Park & Ride at 12:45pm. My intention was to ride the bus to town.When the bus arrived, I changed my mind. Instead, I drove my Nissan® Frontier truck back to Koko Marina. I was able to secure a parking spot in the parking structure. I did my usual workout at the gym. Then, I shopped for a few grocery items at Foodland. With so much time on my hands, I made one last stop in Kuapa Kai. I looked around Longs®. I purchased a small plastic container (to carry granola in) and a can of Libby's® Chicken Vienna Sausages (for dinner). Am I livin' large, or what? I looked around in Safeway®, but I had no interest in purchasing anything.

I was back in my squalid room in Slob Manor (read: rental housing) by 4:30pm. I performed the dreaded laundry chores, three days earlier than expected. The rest of the day? Same ol' shit. I ate the whole can of Libby's® Chicken Vienna Sausage. The evening? Same ol' shit. More hurdy-gurdy "torrent" downloading from the Pure T 'n A site. I have a bag full of granola from Foodland to satisfy my hunger for food. The other "hunger" can only be satisfied if the hottie gym trainer came around. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!

There's nothing more irritating than hypocrisy. When I read the latest accounts over the protests over China's alleged aggression against Tibet, namely the idiotic attempts to extinguish the flame of the Olympic torch, I almost "delivered street pizza," if you know what I mean. Those citizens of the empire should look in the mirror or take a look at what's happening in Iraq. The sad part is that most so-called "Americans" are "geography-challenged" to use the "politically correct" terminology. Tibet has been a part of China for 700 years. Could that be why the Chinaman (living in the room below my squalid room) is calling home at 2am every morning?

Yes, and while the empire is bogged down in Iraq and Afghanistan and the Fed is giving handouts to Wall Street "investment" banks, the rank-and-file peons on Main Street are feeling the pinch. Get your acid reflux medication ready.

Cacophony

Last night, I was so hungry even after my usual "rations" (read: beans and bread) that I had to break out my "emergency" can of Coral® tuna. My only other option was to drive my Nissan® Frontier truck to Foodland in the Aina Haina Shopping Center. I would have ended up wasting money on junk food. At 2 o' clock in the morning, I heard a voice talking in my head while I was sleeping. I woke up and realized that the Chinaman (in the room below my squalid room) was yapping on the phone. I could hear every word he uttered as he was speaking loudly, but I could not understand any of the Chinkspeak (i.e., cacophony). The moron went on and on for about an hour. I found my foam ear plugs but, even with 29dB of sound attenuation, I was still able to hear the Chinaman loud and clear.

I was able to get a little bit of sleep nonetheless. I woke up at 7am to a gloomy and overcast day. Rain was definitely in the air. My homeless guy emulation kind-of-a-day went smoothly again, although I had to sit in the catacombs of Kukui Plaza and eat my Safeway® brunch (read: air-filled energy bars and coffee). The rain was more or less a moderate drizzle. Thus, the homeless guy emulator itinerary remained essentially intact. I spent about three hours reading in the inner courtyard of library. Watching the rain come down was a surreal experience. I did my usual workout at the gym. Another uneventful bus ride brought me back to Slob Manor (read: rental housing) by 4:45pm.

Squalid Oven

The rain came pouring down at 7:30pm last night. So much for washing the truck, eh? I had to close the louvers in my squalid room because the gale force winds were blowing water and crap everywhere. Well, that's life in Slob Manor (read: rental housing). Oh, I long for the day that I can leave the dump once and for all. Lord, have mercy! Aside from the same ol' shit, I had performed the dreaded laundry chores. I also finalized all of my tax paperwork. Lot of inflated dollars will be flowing out of the ol' lavahead's bank account later this month.

Incidentally, I neglected to mention that I terminated my account with Adult DVD Empire. I am gradually closing accounts and terminating services, even free ones, as part of the greater divestiture plan of the exodus.

The homeless guy emulation today went extremely smooth for once. No asswipes causing me grief. No fat slobs lumbering across my path. No crowded buses. The weather was even better than expected. Best of all, I had absolutely no human contact (except minimally at the Safeway® checkout line and the front desk at the gym).

When I set foot in Slob Manor at 5pm, the place was like an overheated oven. Unlike last night, there was not even a slight breeze. My squalid room was beyond intolerable. However, with nowhere else to go, I had no choice but to ignore the heat. My cold can of beans was about the only reprieve from the heat wave. Perhaps I could situate the oversized cranium next to the small fan vent in the back of my Toshiba® Satellite notebook computer. Sheesh!

Looking Back

Last night, I had inadvertently selected the DI.FM Soulful House channel instead of the Deep House channel. All I can say is that I was impressed. What would I do without Net radio? I did not sleep well again. So far, it's been about a week since my bout with sleep deprivation began.

Of course, there's the matter of the guy who rents the room below me. He's a Chinese guy, a friend of the landlord. For some reason, he gets up at 3am almost daily to converse on the phone with someone in China, I suppose. Then, he engages in a slammin' soirée at 5pm before departing to his carpentry job. I have seen only one of the two other guys who reside on the first floor. He is an older guy, possibly close to his sixties. He rides a scooter for transportation. What a strange crew!

I reluctantly arose at 7am in order to engage in a computer chat session with a customer service representative at my investment bank. I was not able to transfer funds to one of my IRA through the Web interface. I was finally able to transfer $5,000 for my 2007 IRA contribution. Until I return to wage slavery, that could be my final IRA contribution. I have only six more years before I am able to draw from any retirement account without penalty. Yes, that's little time I time left before I am officially a decrepit senior citizen. Can you even imagine the anxiety such a prospect generates?

I was on my way to Hawai'i Kai at 8:30am. True to my word, I bypassed Safeway® in Kuapa Kai. I ended up purchasing a cup of Kona-blend coffee at Foodland in Koko Marina. Moms was home when I arrived. Moms was busy with a few chores, so I washed my Nissan® Frontier truck. I made the terrible discovery of rust infiltration along the radiator support beam. The bubbly corrosion indicated that the damage had been in progress for a while. I was considerably perturbed.

Moms and I followed the usual itinerary beginning with Longs® in the Hawai'i Kai Towne Center and ending up at Foodland in Koko Marina. Lunch was courtesy Loco Moco. Later, moms served Foremost® coffee ice cream for dessert. I walked to the gym in Koko Marina at 1pm. I only did a cardio workout. Then, I walked back to say good-bye to moms. I then made one last stop at Foodland. I was satisfied that I was able to avoid the bigotry at the Safeway® in Kuapa Kai. And, for the sake of writing it ... same ol' shit ... that's my evening in a nutshell.

For the past few weeks, I have had intrusive thoughts that focused on my various transgressions and acts of stupidity over the course of my pathetic life. Mind you, we are not discussing a mere handful of incidents. In fact, my whole biography could be constructed as a series of transgressions, acts of stupidity, general vagrancy, dereliction, and foolishness. When I was a young lad, I was actually a good son. I only committed a few sporadic acts of stupidity up through my high school years. However, when I went away to university on the mainland, I went "hog wild." I did not commit any crimes, but I pushed the envelope of virtue. There is no need for me to go into any detail. I have already discussed a few noteworthy events in the journal of old. In retrospect, I can make no sense of my conduct unbecoming. What did I gain? Nothing. I have ended up broke and alone. I have nothing to my name. I have no accomplishments. Well, I never really had any viable dreams. I was the epitome of a non-achiever.

I have taken non-achievement to a higher level, as it were. Unemployed and destitute, I still continue to piddle away my precious time engaging in what I call the "homeless guy emulation." Otherwise, I devote my spare time to the "blog" and downloading hurdy-gurdy "torrents" from the Pure T 'n A site. I have never determined a meaning or purpose for my life. At this point in time, that's a lost cause. I have simply become one of the "useless eaters" on the planet. I have made myself a prime candidate for "depopulation."

Alas, on the upside, I have managed to survive through a lifetime of non-achievement. A person of my background would normally have ended up a drunken, homeless derelict. I am certain that I came very close to the latter reality many times over. For some reason, I was "saved," at least for the time being. That's what I ponder these days.

Rainy Day

Rain, rain, and more rain. Strange weather for this time of year, but not so horrible so as to interfere with the homeless guy emulation kind-of-a-day. I followed the usual Sunday itinerary, which means that I had to eat my Safeway® brunch (read: air-filled energy bars and coffee) in the catacombs of Kukui Plaza. However, during a rainstorm, the catacombs prove to be much more comfortable than a park bench. I did my usual workout at the gym. No hottie gym trainer. Boohoo. The weather had cleared up by the time I exited the gym. I was taking my time, but I still managed to connect with the bus heading out to Hawai'i Kai.I was certain that it had already gone by. I carried my umbrella with me, but I did not use it until I alighted the bus near Slob Manor (read: rental housing). The rain was really coming down. Even with my umbrella as a shield, both my gym bag and I ended up sopping wet. Well, that's all part of the fun of homeless guy emulation.

Incidentally, I have continued to read the book, "Hubris," by Michael Isikoff and David Corn. While I have benefited from the barrage of facts that have not been reported by the so-called "mainstream media," I am still befuddled. If I am to correctly understand what I am reading, the authors have concluded that the Shrub Administration embarked on the incursion into Iraq out of sheer arrogance and stupidity. Well, I guess that's why the book is titled, "Hubris." Yet, I am hard-pressed to believe that, with all of the neoConmen think-tanks (all funded superbly) behind it, the Shrub Administration did not know fact from fiction. In effect, the authors become unwitting apologists for an allegedly stupid and arrogant administration. I cannot buy that.

The facts don't make sense unless we look at the "big picture," and that begins right after the Supremos installed Shrub in the White House. The empire's false economy was tanking. A recession was imminent. Only the "September 11th" event, by some miracle, changed everything. When we view the entire chronology, all of the events seem to fit together quite well. Coincidence? I think not. Arrogant and stupid blunders? Hardly. The rest, as "they" say, is history.

Couch Revolution

Another homeless guy emulation kind-of-a-day has flew the coop, never to return. Let me make it perfectly clear that when I am referring to the "homeless guy emulation," I am not attempting to be facetious or condescending to the homeless. To be perfectly honest, most clowns do not realize that they are truly, by definition, homeless. When one fully owns a home outright, then one is truly not homeless. The rest are, by definition, homeless whether they rent a place or live in a cardboard box. Just miss a few mortgage payments or a few rent checks and see what happens. I am truly homeless, not just a homeless guy emulator.

I did not sleep well last night, most likely because I polished off the last half of the bottle of Fox Brook Cabernet Sauvignon. I was groggy and irritable this morning. I followed the typical homeless guy emulator itinerary ... Safeway®, Korean and Vietnam War Memorial, library, gym ... oh, the horror!

Sitemeter has been reporting that several visitors to the "blog" have arrived here because of a search to find out more information about Al Frowiss. The fact that they are all located in Hawai'i suggests that they received a similar mailing to the one that I discussed on March 24th in the "blog." So far, none of the inquisitive visitors have attempted to contact me, so I will leave it at that.

After spending hour upon hour in intense research about the state of affairs of the empire, the "brain trust" here at the "blog" can only conclude the obvious: the average rank-and-file peon is powerless against the machinations of the elite ruling class and are fools for thinking otherwise. We can only make two long-term recommendations, one of which was stated a while back in the "blog." These are:

1. Do not vote
2. Do not buy any useless crap

If all of the rank-and-file peons of the empire (i.e., 80 percent of the population) followed the latter recommendations, the empire would collapse rather rapidly. And, both recommendations are easily implemented by an already lethargic population. In other words, just don't get up from the couch. The latter two-pronged strategy is designed to bring down the political and financial sectors of the empire, what we lovingly refer to as the "system."

Yes, things are so bad that there is no other way than to stop the machine itself. No doubt, there will be pain and suffering, with the rank-and-file peons suffering the most. However, haven't the unwitting citizens of the world suffered even more pain at the hands of the empire?

We call this "passive revolution," the only kind of revolution possible by a softened, weak-willed populace. The empire's various governments will not be able to function properly when the whole election process is subverted by non-participation. Imagine if only 50,000 satanic gargoyles in total voted in the upcoming presidential elections, all of whom will be from the elite class. I doubt that the election could even be certified. The government of the empire would cease to operate, or it would be forced to expose itself as the true Fascist dictatorship that it is.

Imagine that a consumer strike occurs. The whole financial "system" would collapse within days. Yes, unemployment would rise. Inflation and deflation would both wield their ugly heads simultaneously. All debt and equity "bubbles" would rapidly decompress, which would lead to the collapse of the Federal Reserve Bank. Capital outflows would be humongous, to say the least. The fallout would even affect the elite class. I want to giggle my ass off just thinking about it.

All it would take is to say to oneself, "I'm mad as hell, and I'm not going to take it anymore." Yeah, that's Howard Beale from, "Network," coming back like a bad sitcom, with the exception that it's not a sitcom and it's going to wreak havoc like never been seen before. That, my friends, is the way the secular Apocalypse should go down.

Esperanza

Yes, my friends, yesterday was really Find-A-Rainbow Day. Every day is a holiday, or make sure the latter is true by perusing the ButlerWeb Holiday & Observances site. And, of course, a plug for the Involuntary Celibacy site, a topic that the ol' lavahead knows about like the back of his hand (no pun intended). The granola was good, by the way.

We're back to another homeless guy emulation kind-of-a-day. Who knew? Nothing new to report, really. Aside from Safeway®, the library, and the gym, my only other destination in town was the Institute of Hair Design. I restored my monk haircut. The hottie Asian stylist had cut my hair twice before. She said that she's graduating in two weeks, so this would be my last haircut from her. That's truly sad because she was one of the better stylists.

Just three days after Aloha Airlines closed down its operations, along comes ATA Airlines in shutdown mode as well. Although ATA is primarily a charter carrier, the effect of the combined termination of operations could mean a loss of 500,000 tourists in Hawai'i this year, according to the local rag. Will it affect the ol' lavahead's "condotel" unit? Let's hope not.

Find-A-Rainbow Day 2008

A sudden rainstorm in the wee hours of the morning abruptly awakened me. A bad omen for a bad day. The rain was still coming down moderately when I departed for Hawai'i Kai at 8:30am. I made the nauseating stop at Safeway® in Kuapa Kai, only to be treated like a second class citizen by the same cashier as last time. She, an unattractive and overweight Asian ho', would only acknowledge the elite Caucasian customers in front of and behind me. The bitch couldn't even hand me my receipt. "Rude bitch," I said to the ho' as I walked off.

I stopped by the Post Office to purchase a few stamps. Then, I stopped by Ross® in the Hawai'i Kai Towne Center to see if I could find a tank top to replace the one that is falling apart. No dice. I then stopped off at Foodland in Koko Marina to purchase another cup of coffee. The coffee was pretty good. I will no longer patronize Safeway® in Kuapa Kai for my morning cup of coffee. I noted that Foodland had a few tank tops on sale. Afterward, I ended up spending about an hour in the Hawai'i Kai branch of the library.

Moms was home when I arrived at 11:15am. Moms and I ate lunch at Panda Express® in the Hawai'i Kai Towne Center. Then, moms shopped for groceries at Foodland in Koko Marina. Later, moms served coffee ice cream for dessert. I walked down to the gym in Koko Marina at 1pm. I did an abridged version of my usual workout. I had to stop by Foodland again on the way back. I purchased a package of cinnamon rolls for moms that moms had forgotten. I also acquired my new tank top.

Moms was still napping when I returned. However, I was able to say good-bye to moms. I made the foolish mistake of giving Safeway® in Kuapa Kai another chance to redeem itself this afternoon. Instead, I was disappointed to find the bakery almost completely out of stock. Nothing that I needed was anywhere to be found. Sadly, I drove back to Koko Marina and patronized Foodland once again. With all the driving that I did today and with all the crap that I had to deal with, I felt that a nice bottle of Fox Brook Cabernet Sauvignon was in perfect order. I also purchased a small quantity of bulk granola to balance the cheap vino.

I was back in Slob Manor (read: rental housing) by 5pm. I did a small load of laundry in order to wash my new tank top. I will still wear the old tank top, although it is literally coming apart at the seams. However, such an outfit is invaluable for the homeless guy emulation. I'll be relaxing for the rest of the evening (i.e., same ol' shit). Due to the "old man malaise," I am experiencing some melancholia. I am also fatigued from driving around aimlessly in my Nissan® Frontier truck like some kind of moronic satanic gargoyle. Sheesh!

Inside Job

Nothing like DI.FM Deep House to pass the time away in the evenings at Slob Manor (read: rental housing). Have you heard the track, "Movement," by Afefe Iku yet? Very smooth. Very deep. Yes, my friends, these are the Viagra® Years. Chokin' da chicken. House Music. Oh, what a life! Incidentally, have you seen the Sorry Everybody site? Check out the picture gallery.

Another homeless guy emulation kind-of-a-day ... exactly the same as yesterday. No surprise. The only exception is that I performed the dreaded laundry chores once I returned to Slob Manor this afternoon. The evening? Same ol' shit.

Well, stocks are rallying again. Yep, the Dow should finally hit 30,000 soon. The cause of the rally? The credit crisis is over! Can you believe it? I don't. What I have observed is a highly erratic market. I suspect that the stock "bubble" is hyperventilating. As prices go up, investors quickly sell off. When the prices drop rapidly, the investors come back in to scoop up "bargains." Greed is pushing the envelope. Investors are attempting to squeeze out as much dough as they can from the market. The result is the creation of mini-pockets of wealth transfer from the rank-and-file peons to the elite class.

I continued to read, "Hubris," by Michael Isikoff and David Corn. There have been quite a few facts to digest. In summary of what I have read so far, I can only say that I am horrified. The book is a "must read." As an aside, I believe that many of the problems and the contention that appears between various segments of the alternative media are directly attributable to what each camp believes to have happened on "September 11th." In an earlier chapter of the book, there were details about how the Bush administration feverishly attempted to link "September 11th" with Saddam. The idea was that nineteen Middle Eastern operatives could not have accomplished the task on their own. They needed a state sponsor. Enter Iraq. Obviously, that's old news. What intrigued me is that the original premise is correct. There had to be a larger operation involved, and I am not alluding to al-Qaeda. As I mentioned in a previous "blog," Osama bin Laden has never admitted to planning and executing "September 11th." His writings, his video and audio recordings, and his interviews have revealed nothing about his actual complicity.

It is my guess that the empire's "shadow" government (i.e., Cheney) is the state sponsor. That's where Mike Rupert comes in. The coverage of the "September 11th" event in Ruppert's book, "Crossing the Rubicon," including the timeline are invaluable. Ruppert does not go into the logistics, but there have been many other books subsequently released on the same subject. Only the stigma of "conspiracy theory" keeps the information "under the radar." I, personally, have had a difficult time buying the "official" version of "September 11th." It makes no sense.

The collapse of the towers made no sense. Mind you, I am an engineer, but I am not a structural engineer. However, there are fairly obvious problems with the "official" explanation. A plane colliding with a building on a high floor would, at most, sheer the support structure on that floor (and above) if it did not compromise the complete structure upon initial impact. Since the building maintained its structural integrity after the collision, the structure was obviously able to absorb the horizontal forces much in the way it would absorb a seismic event. If anything, the floors above the collision level would have toppled at an angle and fallen to ground level. However, the buildings in question collapsed at free-fall speed into their own footprints. That is almost impossible given the circumstances, which implies that the individual floor's support structure had literally vaporized at the same time! Of course, the experts have already figured that out (see the AE911Truth site). The bottom line is that "September 11th" was an inside job, perpetrated by the empire's own on the empire's own.

Then again, what isn't an "inside job" anymore? The empire's financial débâcle and the dubious "fix" by the Fed are yet another "inside job." There will be no help for the rank-and-file peons. They are going to free-fall collapse into their own footprints as well.