Same Bat-Channel

Another urban nomad kind-of-a-day ... same Bat-time, same Bat-channel. We already know the drill. Can we deviate from the moronic mundane itinerary sometime? No can do. The only way that the urban nomad itinerary can change is of the urban nomad suddenly came into a lot of money. Bacon. Cabbage. Dinero. Mullah. That's not about to happen anytime soon.

I have been seriously contemplating the end of my tenure as a bus commuter. The number of inconsiderate and moronic passengers has been increasing as the economy continues to tank. From teenage punks to derelicts from the projects to "trailer park" trash to the homeless ... the variety is endless. Once cannot even begin to comprehend what such a volatile mix on a crowded bus could end up becoming. Then again, I cannot really fathom the idea of driving my Nissan® Frontier truck everywhere either. So, I am caught in a quandary.

I happened to carry some loose change today so that I could use the payphone in the library. I called the dentist and was finally able to secure an appointment for next week. I want to end the sad saga of my poor tooth once and for all.

Well, I was back in my squalid room at Slob Manor (read: rental housing) by 5pm. I finished off the meatloaf and rice hot meal (i.e., local-style bento). I almost had another incident of Monetzuma's Revenge. However, I was spared the curse. The evening, as well know, will be the same ol' shit.

Friday Follies

I was off to Hawai'i Kai at 8:30am this morning. I stopped by my local bank in Kuapa Kai to use the autoteller machine (ATM). I inserted my card before I realized that the screen was blank. I became perturbed. The card was in the ATM, and I had no idea about how to retrieve it. Then, as an engineer, I came to the conclusion that I could simply press the "Cancel" button. The card popped right out. Just because the display was defunct does not mean that the whole machine was non-functional.

Moms was home when I arrived. Moms and I only made the rounds in Koko Marina. First, lunch at Zippy's. Then, shopping at Foodland. Later, moms served Foremost® vanilla ice cream for dessert. I chatted with moms until 1:30pm before departing.

I spent about 40 minutes in Koko Head Park before driving my Nissan® Frontier truck to Koko Marina. I found shaded parking, walked to the gym, performed my usual workout, shopped at Foodland, and returned to Slob Manor (read: rental housing). I was able to purchase another meatloaf and rice hot meal (read: local-style bento), which was a real deal for $5 since it had twice as much food as the other similarly marked containers. I was able to eat half for dinner. The other half will suffice as dinner for tomorrow.

I managed to contact Lori as she had left a voicemail message on Wednesday. I only chatted with her briefly. She may be in town next week to meet with her divorce attorney, so we may arrange to meet on that particular day. I also called the dentist office, but I was not able to secure an appointment. My poor tooth only has a temporary filling, so it must be attended to within a week. I also chatted with Debbie, my realtor, in order to re-list the detestable "condotel" unit. I also asked Debbie about the property insurance that is now mandatory. Since she owns two similar "condotel" units, I knew that she would be able to give me a lead. She said that the cost is about $110 for a year. Finally, I asked her about whether she writes off her losses. I mentioned that, according to the vast tax documentation, I do not seem eligible to write off the losses. "Who else is going to write off the losses?" she asked. "The property manager certainly can't." We had a nice laugh about that.

Debbie also brought up Lori's divorce. Debbie had chatted recently with Lori's soon-to-be ex-husband, and there are some serious discrepancies from what Lori has told me. I could not help but think to myself that the situation is reminiscent of the scandalous Underground Journal. Of course, I am not going to involve myself in the logistics of a "he said, she said" controversy. It's none of my business. Yet, one has to wonder if history is repeating itself yet again.

I also received e-mail from Mr. Ray. I was relieved since Mr. Ray had to discontinue his "blog" temporarily due to some stupidity that is out of his locus of control. Anyway, that's a lot of external communication for the isolated ol' lavahead in one day. My mind is overloaded. Sheesh!

Anarchy & Chaos

Another urban nomad kind-of-a-day commenced with a ridiculous ride on the bus to town. A bunch of high school students, mostly chicks, boarded the bus in Kahala. Like all high school kids, they migrate to the back of the bus. Several of the chicks sat down next to me and adjacent to my seat. Today I was sitting on one of the two rear bench seats that face each other in the back. Two of the chicks decided to stand to chat with their buddies. In the process, one of them was stepping on my feet. So, I had to kick her feet out of the way. That's when I heard, "Sorry." The chick next to me was bouncing up and down and wiggling around in the seat. She kept whipping her head from side to side. Her hair kept hitting me in the face like a horse's tail swatting flies. She became even more hyperactive when all the chicks spotted a "cute boy" sitting in the front of the bus. During her extended wiggling sessions, she kept on bumping into me. "Can you stop bumping into me already," I yelled. "Sorry," came the belated reply. The two handlers for the students were sitting up front gossiping with each other, so there was no supervision per se. After spending $1,172 on root canal work yesterday for my troublesome tooth, I was in no mood for "Tom Foolery."

The rest of the day followed the same urban nomad itinerary (i.e., library, gym), which needs little delineation. The ride home on the bus was equally disturbing. A stupid ho' with her two kids boarded and naturally migrated to the rear of the bus. I recognized the bitch from the other day when spent the whole bus trip stuffing pieces of candy into the face of her hyperactive son. The little shit was sitting next to me and putting his dirty shoes on my board shorts. This afternoon, I sat on the large bench seat at the back of the bus. The ugly ho' sat next to me and wedged some crap between me and her fat ass. I had to stare her down before she moved the shit. Not even one word of apology. I was reading the (inaccurate) New Living Translation at the time, but that did not stop me from chastising the dolt. "Stupid bitch," I told her. Later, she and her two stupid ilk moved around to another seat. The ugly ho' wedged her backpack under a vacant seat, although half of it was blocking the aisle. Within a few minutes, the ho' decided to relocate herself and her genetically mutated kids to the bench seat. "Fucking irritating bitch," I yelled out as I moved to another seat. The dumb white trash ho' didn't even wince. As far as she was concerned, the bus was her personal SUV.

Needless to say, there is something tragically wrong with "American" society. Its people are rude, callous, arrogant, and often disgusting slobs. Although I am essentially a loner, I am out in public quite a bit. Since there is nothing to distinguish me from a homeless guy, I do not command much respect from anyone. Being incognito allows me to observe my environment. Sadly, there is really nothing redeeming about "American" society. Its people (i.e., satanic gargoyles) have increasingly assumed an air of inflated self-importance. Even lowly peons have extremely inflated opinions about themselves. My thesis is that these fools have been watching the tube too much. They have come to believe that they are living in their own "reality show." Yes, their own sitcom, or their own movie. And, they are the stars. Their idiotic and expensive music players provide the soundtrack as they move about the "set." They carry themselves as if they are celebrities. They look around as though the paparazzi may be hiding around the corner. It's downright silly and infantile. However, that's what happens when people live in a fantasy world.

For me, the end of society as we know it will come as a blessing. However, in such a superficial and narcissistic society, there will be a degeneration into extreme forms of anarchy and chaos . I would expect a lot of homicidal rampages, mostly because there is a lack of coping alternatives. The end of society for individuals can be likened to the season cancellation of their "reality show." They will no longer be celebrities in their own eyes. And, because of their infantile inclination, they will be prone to violence. Will it really come to that?

If the moneychangers and powers-that-be cannot restore the status quo, then the lifestyle for the average rank-and-file peon in any First-World or Second-World nation will change adversely. In other words, if all that fake money that is being injected into the "system" does not resume the debt "bubble" economy (i.e., asset price inflation), then we will never return to the good ol' days. We are looking at the kind of austerity that will reduce the peons to the pauper level. If that's not enough to cause the infantile and haughty fools to break out in a violent temper tantrum, then I don't know what will.

I am pretty certain that only one more effective "bubble" can be created, if at all. That will be the final act in the great wealth transfer. The moneychangers and powers-that-be are certainly not desiring to see a bunch of homicidal maniacs running amuck and shooting everyone. The better plan is shift them around in a controlled fashion until a global war can be consummated. Then, the rabble can shipped off as cannon fodder to begin global depopulation. With the sheer number of brain donors and dolts that I encounter daily, I can truthfully say that I can hardly wait.

Pillar of Salt

I spent countless hours debating with myself whether I should ride the bus or drive my Nissan® Frontier truck today since I had a meeting with root canal destiny. I made the final decision at 8:45am, just minutes before I departed. I drove to Ala Moana Center and found shaded parking, although the sky was completely clouded over. I spent an hour or so at Barnes & Noble®. My mind, of course, was preoccupied with the huge sum of money that I was going to part with.

When the time came, I walked to the endodontist's office just a block away on Kapi'olani Boulevard. I did not find the front desk staff to be very friendly. I suspect that my lack of dental insurance may have been the reason. The root canal took about 45 minutes. The endodontist informed me that he would be drilling through the porcelain crown, much to my dismay. I only felt a couple tinges of pain during the whole operation. I made my credit card payment of $1,172 and left. I did not even get a nice Parker® pen as a gift as opposed to my last visit about nine years ago.

To his credit, the endodontist spent a few minutes answering my questions and explaining the procedure. There was some rationalizing of the odd sequence of events concerning my poor tooth. There seemed to be an emphasis on the possibility that a tooth could just go bad at any time. "Anytime there is work done on a tooth, there is always a chance that the nerve could be affected and end up dying," I was told. At that point, I had already resigned to the inevitability of the root canal work, so any further discussion was moot. Did it justify the high cost? Not really. Did I have any other choice?

The tooth will still cost me more money as I have to return to the dentist to have the temporary filling replaced by a permanent filling. So, yes, the tooth is bringing me closer to homelessness, as I stated to the dentist. However, in retrospect, I am very thankful that I had enough money saved for yet another "rainy day." How many people are in a similar situation, but are completely broke?

I rode the bus from Ala Moana Center to town. I walked to the gym and performed my usual workout. The anesthetic had worn off during my workout. There was no pain unless I closed my jaw. The crown still makes contact with the upper tooth. And, when it does, I can feel pain. I began to wonder whether my ordeal with the tooth was truly over.

After my usual workout and lukewarm shower, I rode the bus back to Ala Moana Center. I dropped my gym bag off in my truck. I walked to Shirokiya to see if I could procure a bento lunch. I decided that the $6 price was too much for so little. I ended up at Foodland. I purchased a meatloaf and rice hot meal (i.e., local-style bento) and small pack of Futomaki Sushi, all for $8 and some change. Yes, I spent more than I should have again, just to placate my sour mood.

I drove back to Slob Manor (read: rental housing). I performed the dreaded laundry chores (a day earlier than expected) and ate my expensive dinner. Although I never chew food on the side with the bad tooth, I could feel pain as it impacted with the upper tooth. I could barely enjoy my expensive dinner. I should have just gone outside and grabbed some dirt to eat.

The evening will be the same ol' shit. I will spend most of the time with my Toshiba® Satellite notebook computer and wonder why I have to put up with the substandard Ubuntu Linux. I will have to ignore the pain from my costly tooth. As always, especially after spending the day in a consumerist haven such as Ala Moana Center, I will ponder why I have ended up a pauper in life. It's a stupid internal debate, one that always comes up when I see how poor I am compared to everyone around me. I keep making sacrifices, yet I still end up losing more and more money. Can you imagine the kind of notebook computer I could have purchased with the $2,500-plus that I will end up spending on one tooth? Sickening, isn't it?

Later, my mind kept going back to the same nauseating theme. I began to wonder why I couldn't be a "high roller." Why didn't I become an endodontist? I do not even have enough worldly possessions to fill a shopping cart. Aside from the homeless, I am probably the only housed person who sleeps in a cheap sleeping bag. And, who else would grill panini with his DeLonghi® "retro" contact grill and panini press on the floor of his squalid room? In the end, the internal debate always sides with the mendicant urban nomad. I renewed my vow to continue divesting my useless possessions. Everything I own should fit in one small gym bag such that a shopping cart would be considered too opulent. In essence, what I have really been observing through "rose-colored glasses" is a modern day Sodom (or Gomorrah). I must flee and never turn back to look at the debauchery in envy. Otherwise, I will end up as a pillar of salt.

Dystopian Dreams

Last night, I noticed a very disturbing clunking sound from my Toshiba® Satellite notebook computer's hard drive. The clunking sound appeared to be a very forceful parking of the heads about every ten seconds. I vaguely recalled that a recent ACPI update apparently replaced the power management scripts. I manually checked each of the scripts and found that the replacements scripts were exactly the same as the modifications that I had performed (see Ubuntu Wiki) with the exception of one parameter. After editing the culprit replacement script, I restarted the computer. The problem was solved. However, I was quite perturbed. How much of my hard drive's lifespan has been reduced because of the repeated forced parking of the heads? I checked the history details in Synaptics Package Manager and found that the ACPI package was installed on January 15th. That's eleven days of damage.

Another urban nomad kind-of-day was devoid of reality. Need I delineate upon the boring itinerary? The sky was overcast, and the ambient temperature was fairly cold all day. I had the pleasure of riding on an extremely crowded bus back to Slob Manor (read: rental housing). Not only was the bus crowded, but the morons on the bus were at their inconsiderate best. As we move into the end times, I keep wondering how long we must tolerate that crap.

On the eve of a $1,170 root canal, I find that my mood has gone sour. Couple the latter annoyance with the fact that I have aligned myself with the dystopian school of thought, and we have a volatile mix. The "system" is going down. Not permanently, mind you. However, it will take down myriad peons with it. The moneychangers and the powers-that-be will survive intact to feast their eyes on the "Great Die-Off." Their plan, aside from depopulation, is a modern day Noah's Ark for themselves. The plan is obviously demented. Who is going to stop them, short of Divine intervention? These are troubled times, and the only real solution is to "thin the herd." The collapsing economic "system" is just the beginning. After all, who is affected by the collapse? The masses are being dispersed in a state of disarray in preparation for "cleansing."

I have already resigned to the fact that there is no way to stop those megalomaniacs. The current wealth transfer is just the beginning. Just look at all the fools who are waiting for the stock market to turn around. They are expecting the Dow to hit 30,000 or higher on the next round. That's why they haven't done anything with their ravaged 401(k) accounts. This is just another business cycle, they say to themselves. None of them can truly see that something is terribly wrong.

The "talking heads" keep yapping about deflation. There is no deflation. Food prices are climbing as we speak. The only prices that have gone down are petrol, housing, and useless trinkets. When hyperinflation kicks in, oil prices will rise. So will food prices. Can we imagine the state of chaos amongst the peons when that occurs?

In times of peace, consumption is the fuel that drives the economy. We have an unsustainable life-style that is primarily due to overpopulation and overconsumption. Resources are finite. The consumption economy is sputtering. The only other alternative is war. That is where we are heading, somewhere down the road. The moneychangers and powers-that-be have already started the kindling with small regional wars. The idea is to keep fanning the fire until a huge flame erupts. That will be the catalyst for a global war. Dystopia, my friends.

Montezuma's Revenge (Yet Again)

I was on my way to Hawai'i Kai at 8:30am this morning. As per my vow of divestiture, I donated a few useless items at the Goodwill drop box. Moms was home when I arrived. Moms and I made the usual rounds ... Longs® in Kuapa Kai and Foodland in Koko Marina. We ate lunch at Zippy's. Later, moms served Foremost® ice cream for dessert.

Incidentally, at Koko Marina, I parked my Nissan® Frontier truck next to the stairway leading up to the bus stop. I saw the questionable derelict, Reggie, standing at the bus stop. In fact, he was still standing there when Moms and I finished lunch. He was still there even as we finally departed. Obviously, he wasn't waiting for the bus.

I said good-bye to moms at 1:20pm. I spent about 45 minutes at Koko Head Park reading some of the religious literature that moms gave me. Afterward, I drove to Koko Marina, found shaded parking, walked to the gym, performed my usual workout, shopped at Foodland, and returned to Slob Manor (read: rental housing). I purchased another Sweet & Sour Spare Ribs with Rice hot meal (i.e., local-style bento) from Foodland. I enjoyed the dinner. However, I had a bout of Montezuma's Revenge after dinner. I literally had to run to the restroom at Kawaikui Beach Park in order to avoid making a mess of myself. The restroom facilities were filthy. There was dung all over everything. Fortunately, I had time to bring one toilet seat cover/shield with me. Even as filthy as the dump was, it was probably cleaner than the bathroom in Slob Manor. Sheesh!

I was able to enjoy a few minutes of the ocean view from the park. Only the older homeless guy who owns a bicycle was there. He had all of his possessions laid out in the pavilion. Pete, the pipe-smoking homeless guy, was nowhere to be found. His worldly possessions were stationed at his concrete picnic table at the West end of the park. So, I knew that he would be back later.

I walked back to Slob Manor, even though my stomach was still queasy. I am getting used to the senior citizen cycle of several semi-constipated days and one big Montezuma's Revenge event. Growing older is simply a downhill slide. Only the speed of descent makes a difference in the quality of life. It's actually too late for me to "catch up" with where I am supposed to be in life. Any hopes and aspirations will remain unfulfilled. Heck, I don't even have enough money to retire as a pauper. I am in deep shit. All that remains is for me to surivive until the secular Apocalypse (or Armageddon itself) comes around. A grand tragedy is a great equalizer. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!

Byblos Binge

Another urban nomad kind-of-a-Sunday has been relieved of its duties. I departed for town on the bus 30 minutes earlier than usual this morning. During my sojourn, I resigned myself to a more leisurely pace. I caught a glimpse of the hottie gym trainer while performing my usual workout at the gym. When I saw baby, I fully understood why I could never believe in the theory of evolution. There is no way that baby could be a descendant of a ridiculous ape.

As I sat on a bench at the bus stop near the Chinatown Gateway, I saw former Asylum faculty Chip walking down the street with his new babe. Chip is probably in his sixties. His Asian babe is obviously in her twenties. She was pushing a baby stroller, which made sense since Chip had mentioned that he was a new father when I saw him last a month or so ago.

I was on a bus heading to Hawai'i Kai (which meant no transfer nonsense) by 2pm. I really did not want to go back to Slob Manor (read: rental housing) that early, but the dreaded laundry chores were beckoning me. The rest of the day and evening? Blah, blah, blah.

I have been reading the (inaccurate) New Living Translation on and off now daily. A good portion of my reading is done while riding the bus or late in the evening in my squalid room. Although I have read about 75 percent of the Good Book prior to this latest reading, I apparently did not take it too seriously. In fact, I have never been much of a reader. That's surprising since I made it through graduate school by barely reading anything. I did have the ability to write well, although the journal and "blog" are poor examples. As you may recall, I became a voracious reader after I was emancipated from wage slavery. Even now, I am surprised at the volume of material that I pored through. With all of that "under my belt," I was able to finally undertake a serious reading of the Scriptures.

My goal is not to simply complete the entire work. Rather, I have been attempting to engage in the digestion and contemplation of the material. Thus, I spend a good portion of my day in deep thought about what I have read so far. Mind you, I follow the same procedure with almost every book that I read these days. However, when I read books of the "Current Affairs" genre, almost always about greed and corruption, there really isn't much to ponder. In the Good Book, I am discovering the origin of humanity, a true history of human frailty (and stupidity). I am also beginning to tap the knowledge of Universal Law in both spiritual and scientific contexts. Overall, the whole adventure becomes important in view of the upcoming secular Apocalypse.

Poor Man's Poor Man

Another urban nomad kind-of-a-day commenced with the trip to town on the bus a little earlier than usual. While I stood at the bus stop, I saw Pete, the pipe-smoking homeless guy, sitting at his concrete picnic table at the West end of Kawaikui Beach Park. As usual, I lapsed in and out of a coma interspersed with reading sessions in the inner courtyard of the library. Later, I performed my usual workout at the gym. What's that, you say? You already knew the drill?

The ride home on the bus required one seamless transfer in Kaimuki. When I alighted near Kawaikui Beach Park, I could see Pete, the pipe-smoking homeless guy, sitting at his concrete picnic table off in the distance. A large group of Pacific Islanders had taken over the pavilion. I walked back to Slob Manor (read: rental housing) in anticipation of yet another exciting evening locked in my squalid room.

There are so few useless possessions in my squalid room. Yet, I constantly feel the urge to purge. I am not even certain about why I become upset about expenditures such as my upcoming root canal. I keep thinking that I could find better use for the money. However, I have no desire to purchase more useless junk. Everywhere I go, I see the satanic gargoyles spending money like there is no tomorrow. They have latest and most expensive of everything imaginable. I am made to feel left behind. I am one of the few truly economically disenfranchised. I am the poor man's poor man. In addition, I am a senior citizen with no peers to impress. I suppose that, no matter what, the divestiture of my useless possessions will always be an obsession until every bit of it is gone for good.

Microcosmic

There were only two of the homeless guy at Kawaikui Beach Park when I arrived at 7:35am this morning. The older homeless guy who owns a bicycle and the park maintenance guy greeted me. I could see Pete, the pipe-smoking homeless guy, in the distance at his concrete picnic table. I spent about an hour in the park.

After walking back to Slob Manor (read: rental housing), I was off to Hawai'i Kai in my Nissan® Frontier truck. Moms was home when I arrived. Moms and I made the usual rounds, including Longs® in Kuapa Kai and Foodland in Koko Marina. Moms served lamp-baked chicken, broiled salmon steak, fresh vegetables, and rice for lunch. For dessert, moms served up Foremost® coffee ice cream.

Moms mentioned that she fell three times this week, the latest being yesterday. Moms then realized that her entire left hand including fingers were swollen. I told moms to put an ice pack on her hand. Moms said that there was no swelling earlier in the morning. Moms also noted that there was a bruise in the palm of her left hand. The swelling barely subsided by 2pm. I urged moms to call Straub Clinic in Koko Marina to see if she could be squeezed in for an appointment. No dice. I suggested that moms continue to ice down her hand and keep it slightly elevated when she sleeps or naps. I urged moms to make an appointment as soon as possible if there is no improvement in the morning.

I departed reluctantly at 2:30pm. I seriously doubt that moms will follow my advice if the swelling continues. I found shaded parking in Koko Marina, walked to the gym, performed my usual workout, shopped at Foodland, and returned to Slob Manor for another exciting Friday evening in my squalid room. For dinner, I purchased another Foodland hot meal for $5 ... Parmesan Chicken with Rice and Veggies. What a great meal!

Moms' increasing incidents of falling have me concerned. Falling is the most dangerous situation for senior citizens. Moms said that she always falls forward rather than backward. Falling forward, moms believes, will decrease her chances of breaking a hip bone. Yesterday, moms apparently fell on her left side. Her hand must have made impact with the concrete surface palm up.

Ultimately, moms is only one fall away from a serious and perhaps crippling injury. Caregiving will become intense for both my bro's family and I. At this point in time, I am prepared to switch to some kind of mini-van to transport moms if the need arises. I have observed quite a few people recently with their elderly parents, many of whom are wheelchair-bound. It takes a lot of time and effort, of which I give them credit. My bro and I have been very fortunate that moms has been ambulatory and self-sufficient into her mid-80s. I don't think that we are adequately prepared for the inevitable. However, I am certain that we will manage.

There are many aspects of my life that have essentially driven me away from the mainstream, one of which is the matter of my own mortality as well as that of my extended family. I have diverged from consumerism and have sought some form of spirituality, not necessarily religious. However, I have very deep questions concerning Universal Law and the existence of a Supreme Being. Hence, my renewed interest in the Good Book. I have no idea why it's called the "Bible" (a derivative of the name Byblos, an ancient city in modern Lebanon). My reading of the inaccurate, but readable, New Living Translation has helped to facilitate my quest. In all fairness to the translation, there are adequate footnotes which often delineate upon the inaccuracies.

The so-called “Bible,” itself, is a shocking, albeit riveting, piece of literature and historical chronology. It is also a book of ancient laws, which may prove quite puzzling. Yet, the framework of the laws are quite fascinating as they somehow explain the meaning of humanity. There is too much integration between all species of lifeforms to preclude a very purposeful design. I do not find the answers in the troublesome works of human philosophers. Semantically-challenged diatribe has little meaning to me. My other secular reading has pretty much confirmed that evil, as it may be called, has overtaken the world. Humans will destroy themselves when left to their own devices. Hence, knowing the complexity of the universe, there must be a solution outside of human limitations. The answer, in an ordered universe, must exist and it must be made available for those of us who inhabit it.

Plight of the Poor & Destitute

How did I feel this morning? Shitty would be an understatement. Actually, I didn't feel all that bad. I was groggy and my liver was acting up. After all, I polished off the whole bottle of Fox Brook Chardonnay (read: fake "Hammer"). I was probably more demoralized by my moronic reaction to yet another adverse crisis choreographed by the sinister kahuna. Rather than remain calm and collected, I engaged in typical satanic gargoyle behavior. I impulsively spent money to cure my malaise through instant gratification. Yes, I spent $13 on cheap booze, Wavy Lay's® chips, and a smoothie from Jamba Juice®. Did I feel any better? Not really.

What I needed to realize was that I will have to cut back on at least $140 per month of spending for the rest of the year in order to make up for the upcoming dental expenses. Is it time for me to terminate my gym membership? Should I no longer ride the bus? Can I return to the dinner "rations" of canned beans and bread again?

As groggy as I felt, I walked to Kawaikui Beach Park at 7:20am this morning. I spent only about 40 minutes there. I brought a banana along with me for breakfast. None of the homeless guys were in the park. I spent most of the time ruminating on my plight and any possible solutions. The rest of the day was "textbook" urban nomad. I lapsed in and out of a coma in the inner courtyard of the library between reading sessions. At the gym, I was able to breeze through my usual workout even though I was groggy. I have no explanation for the phenomenon. I returned to Slob Manor (read: rental housing) on the bus at 5pm, just in time to perform the dreaded laundry chores.

Life would not be so bad if not for the charletons in banking and finance as well the two asswipes Ben Bernanke and Hank Paulson (soon to be replaced by clone Tim Geithner). If interest rates were at a nominal (and reasonable) six percent per annum, I would be earning about $30,000 in dividends. That's more than enough for me to survive in my squalid life and compensate for expenses and losses. At the current zero percent interest rate, I am obviously earning nothing. I am drawing on savings feverishly just to survive. I know that I am not alone. There are people who are in even worse situations. However, that is no consolation.

Sadly, the soon-to-be global economic depression has not put a serious damper on the search for babe pictures. There is currently less than one legitmate daily visitor to the "blog" on average. The number of visitors searching for babe pictures, on the other hand, has exploded according to the Feedjit® Live Feed. What can I say?

Get Me Outta Here!

I was off to Hawai'i Kai at 8:30am this morning. Moms was home when I arrived. Moms mentioned that her dentist appointment was at 9:30am, so we left immediately in my Nissan® Frontier truck. Fortunately, we arrived at Ala Moana Center with plenty of time to spare. I was even able to find shaded parking. Moms walked to the dentist's office. I strolled to Barnes & Noble®. I spent about 30 minutes looking around, although I did not find the experience enjoyable.

When I went to retrieve moms, I discovered that moms had just left the dentist's office. I spent the next hour attempting to locate moms. Ala Moana Center is a pretty big place. There are so many senior citizens running around, and they all look alike. I even walked to the bus stop on the street level to see if moms was there. As it turns out, moms had taken the elevator down to the street level instead of the the mall level (which is where I had parked). Had I not made the rounds to the bus stop a second time, I would not have seen moms standing a few hundred feet away. I was slightly perturbed, but I made a mental note that I cannot leave moms totally unattended anymore.

Moms and I ate bento lunches at Shirokiya. Then, moms shopped for a pair of bedroom slippers at Sears®. After that, we headed back to Hawai'i Kai. We made one last stop at Foodland in Koko Marina. Later, moms served Foremost® coffee ice cream for dessert.

While I was brushing my teeth, I noticed that my troublesome tooth (i.e., rear right molar that now has a crown) felt odd. In fact, I had noticed the oddity for the last couple of days. Upon closer scrutiny, I discovered a small bubble of pus below the tooth. The tooth is infected. I already knew that a root canal was inevitable. I called the dentist. I was able to secure an appointment later in the afternoon. With little luxury of time, I had to say good-bye to moms.

I found shaded parking at Koko Marina immediately. I performed most of my usual workout at the gym, but I was severely constrained by time. On the way back to Kahala, I dropped off my gym bag and my Rubbermaid® cooler at Slob Manor (read: rental housing). I continued my journey and was easily able to find parking across the street at Kahala Mall. Thank goodness.

My appointment was just as I expected. An x-ray image was taken of the tooth. I was told that the tooth was abscessing. I had two choices: extraction or a root canal. Obviously, I really had only one choice since I have already invested over $900 in the tooth. I was also given a prescription for antibiotics. The referral to the same endodontist that performed my first root canal was made for next Wednesday. The quote was $1,170 and some change. "This tooth is going to make me homeless," I said to the dentist. I felt extremely nauseous.

I walked back to Kahala Mall. I dropped off my prescription at Longs®. I was told that I had a 30-minute wait. So, I meandered around the mall. People were spending money like there's no tomorrow. The best I could do was splurge on a smoothie at Jamba Juice®. After all was said and done, I picked up and paid the $13 for the antibiotics. Traffic in the Kahala area was completely backed up. In fact, the traffic was already gridlocked when I had initially arrived there. I attempted the only alternative route via Ainakoa Street, albeit circuitous, to avoid the gridlock. Sadly, the route may have taken even longer. Oh well.

I had thought of going shopping at Safeway® in Kuapa Kai. However, I just was not in the mood at that point. I stopped off at Foodland in the Aina Haina Shopping Center instead. For dinner, I purchased a bottle of Fox Brook Chardonnay (read: fake "Hammer") and a big-ass bag of Wavy Lay's® chips. Once I was back in my squalid room at Slob Manor at 6:30pm, I indulged in my so-called "dinner." The sinister kahuna was once again toying with the oversized cranium. What else could I do?

Well, I'll be waiting to see the big changes in empire that have been promised by the "good cop" administration. So far, there's been a move to halt or rescind some of the old Shrubbery policies. However, that's not change. That's just going back to Square Zero. I have already outlined in the "blog" what real change would entail. However, that's not going to happen. I don't want to rehash that old crap because it is meaningless. The question is: what is really in store for us in the future? I am inclined to believe that we are precariously close to the secular Apocalypse, or the "Great Die-Off" in the parlance of the true progressives.

The life-style that everyone in the empire desires is unsustainable. The "good cop" administration is planning to do everything in its power to restore the old status quo (i.e., high debt, asset price inflation). Frankly, that is the only way that the "system" can be saved at least for a short while. The whole global "system" is, in fact, intricately tied to the empire including currency, finance, trade, and so forth. If the empire goes down, so do the other First-World states. However, infinite growth and finite resources do not mesh well.

Any new "fixes" to the "system" will only pump it up for a short spell. Then, it will crash even harder. The hard crashes are what will precipitate the secular Apocalypse (or "Great Die-Off"). Thus, I have come to embrace the prophesy and associated debate from the few who are making preparations for the coming collapse (Carolyn Baker's site and Mike Ruppert's new "blog" are good examples). There is no sense in "beating a dead horse," as the old adage goes. The old paradigm no longer works.

The monk life-style, the urban nomad life-style, the exodus ... these are all code names for the search for a new paradigm. I am desperately seeking a way out because the "system" is squeezing the life out of me. In addition, I am being robbed blind. The satanic moneychangers and powers-that-be want to insure that all of the rank-and-file peons are enslaved either by "hook or crook." They will stop at nothing to achieve the result. Yet, I am compelled to escape. Sooner or later, I will succeed.

Verdict: Shitty

Another urban nomad kind-of-a-day, another dollar ... short. Kawaikui Beach Park was beckoning me to visit. So, off I went. As I was walking to one of the concrete picnic tables, the older homeless guy who owns a bicycle called me over to the pavilion. He handed me an unopened box of Ritz® crackers. He wouldn't take "no" for an answer. In fact, he had several boxes of unopened Ritz® crackers as well as another unidentifiable product. All four homeless guys were in the park this morning. The two other homeless guys were sitting with Pete, the pipe-smoking homeless guy, at his concrete picnic table at the West end of the park. The older homeless guy with the bike rode off somewhere. He returned a few minutes later. Then, three of the homeless guys loaded themselves into a fairly nice black Ford® F-150 pickup truck that was in the parking lot. The younger homeless guy who owns a bike was the designated driver. He acquainted himself with the truck by turning the headlights on and off as well as the windshield wipers. So, I knew that he wasn't the owner. Whose truck was it? They drove off to destinations unknown. Only Pete, the pipe-smoking homeless guy, was left in the park.

I ate my breakfast (i.e., a banana and a cup of granola) while I sat and watched the clouds rolling in from the North. The ocean was fairly calm, and there was only a mild breeze. Incidentally, I determine the time of day by watching for the arrival of different bus routes. That's the only way that I know when to leave.

I rode the bus to town at the usual time. Unfortunately, I had to sit next to the questionable derelict, Reggie. I assume that he lives with his parents somewhere in Hawai'i Kai, so he is a derelict by choice. I discussed the loser in the "blog" of October 13th of last year, so there's no need to waste any more space on the fool. At the library, I spent the entire time lapsing in and out of a coma in the inner courtyard. I wasn't particularly fatigued. I just didn't feel like doing anything else.

I managed to muster up enough energy to walk to the Institute of Hair Design to have my monk haircut restored. Perhaps I should let it grow out into a long Dutch-boy cut like Reggie's hairstyle. Nah! I performed my usual workout at the gym and returned to Slob Manor (read: rental housing) on the bus. As we have come to expect, the evening will be more of the same.

I did not bother listing the problems with Ubuntu Linux last night because I was engaged in a deeply frustrating experience with it and my Toshiba® Satellite notebook computer.

• The Gnome® desktop continues to freeze when using any media player. Nothing is operational except for the mouse cursor. So, I have to go through the Alt-SysReq-R-E-I-S-U-B nonsense in order to safely reboot Linux. Verdict: shitty.
• The Synaptics trackpad driver for Linux is useless. It is extremely sensitive to random touches. However, any intentional tap may requires two or three attempts before being recognized. Verdict: shitty.
• In addition, the physical trackpad layout of my Toshiba® Satellite notebook computer is utterly stupid. The trackpad is offset way to the left of center. The right edge of the trackpad is directly at the center (see picture in the "blog" of January 15th). That section of the trackpad activates the right mouse click. Verdict: shitty.

There are no fixes for the aforementioned problems, by the way.

Well, the "Good Cop" presidency has commenced with the most expensive inauguration in history, not to mention the unusual amount of security attached to the affair. There's been so much hype and spin about the event that I can only come away as being very suspicious. The masses are going to be too distracted to notice the carpet being pulled out from under them. I do not expect good things from the new administration. Rather, I am expecting more of the same with even more "smoke and mirrors." Verdict: shitty.

Is a Title Necessary?

I woke up fairly early this morning. At 9:30am, I decided to wash my Nissan® Frontier truck. I also cleaned the interior with my Dirt Devil® Quick Power® handheld vacuum cleaner. The interior of the truck, however, is so dusty that my effort to clean it were simply futile. Then, I cleaned (i.e., empty the cup and clean the filter) both my Dirt Devil® Quick Power® handheld vacuum cleaner and the Eureka® Optima bagless vacuum cleaner. I completed a few other mundane tasks before departing for Hawai'i Kai. I ended up at Koko Head Park. The experience was not exactly spiritually fulfilling since the park was quite crowded.

At 2pm, I drove to Koko Marina, only to discover that the whole parking lot was full. Traffic in the parking lot was gridlocked. I won't go into any more detail. I eventually performed my usual workout at the gym. Then, I shopped at Foodland before returning to Slob Manor (read: rental housing). I had a few more tidbits to include in the "blog," but I am just not in the mood to write about it. Ubuntu Linux on my Toshiba® Satellite notebook computer continues to plague me with problems, which further exacerbated the situation. Sadly, Linux is just not ready to be used as a desktop system for the average user.

For dinner, I ate another hot meal (i.e., local-style bento) courtesy Foodland - Sweet & Sour Spare Ribs with Rice. For dessert, I purchased a pint of Dove® ice cream. The evening will be the same as always.

Nomadic Tidbits

Another urban nomad kind-of-a-Sunday commenced with a ride to town on the bus much earlier than usual. The itinerary was the same ... check my mail at the Post Office, work out at the gym (sadly, no hottie gym trainer), ride back to Slob Manor (read: rental housing) on the bus, and performed the dreaded laundry chores. I also partially cleaned my squalid room with the Slob Manor (Eureka® Optima bagless) vacuum cleaner. Well, we all know what's in store for the evening, eh?

The weather has been much cooler, abeit sunny, for the past two days. Cool days bring clear skies practically devoid of cloud cover, which is actually a rarity in Hawai'i. I could see the Ko'olau mountain range quite clearly, which is also a rarity with the normal cloud cover.

I have not heard from Lori in well over a month. However, I happened to stumble upon an article in the Advertiser about her new bike shop in Waialua. The store is called Sugar Mill Bikes LLC. The article also has a brief chronology of the store as well as profiles of the partners. I surmise that Lori has been working six days per week at the store, which is why we have been ex communicado.

Lost Tribe of Tralfaz (Reprise)

Another urban nomad kind-of-a-day has been cleaned up by the houseboy. Rather than walk to Kawaikui Beach Park, I departed for town a littler earlier than usual on the bus. I spent over four hours in the inner courtyard of the library. Ralph, a dean at HCC, chatted with me. He was doing some research for his daughter. I asked him if he knew anything about former Diploma Mill Professor Darwin. As it turned out, Ralph offered him a job at LCC. Ralph also queried if I would be interested in facilitating a few classes for him in the Pearl Harbor apprenticeship program. I said that I would consider the option.

I spent the rest of the time completing Chalmers Johnson's book, "Nemesis." I brought my New Living Translation Good Book with me as well. I have had a much easier time reading and comprehending the latter version, albeit myriad inaccuracies. Fortunately, I am already acquainted with the inaccuracies and can gloss over them. Being able to the the Scriptures without hindrance also allows me to ponder and reflect on the content immediately. The Good Book will, no doubt, unlock a few answers about life for me. I have become quite disillusioned about the state of humanity after reading myriad books on the hatred, greed, and corruption that has thoroughly permeated all aspects of daily life. I known from long before that there is no logical answer to secular debauchery. One would assume that humans, knowing their mortality, would not create so much grief for themselves and others. Therefore, I am even more convinced that evil does truly exist, nor can it be contained.

Given the Laws of the Universe (i.e., the existence of a Creator), there must be an opposite force to evil. I have discussed the matter before ... good and evil, right and wrong, morality. The issue is not religious. Only in the limited and conniving framework of human philosophy does religion come into play. The Laws of the Universe existed long before religion. Hence, we make decisions that conform to the Laws of the Universe, or oppose them. Opposition carries a heavy price, on that we are witnessing at this moment in time.

I performed my usual workout at the gym. Then, I returned to Slob Manor (read: rental housing) on the bus. During the journey, I read the Good Book. I don't particularly care to read while in transit. However, the time passed much quicker. I also got more reading done. And, no one bothered me. Apparently, few people disturb anyone reading the Good Book. Perhaps the Good Book is a deterrent against evil.

Odd as it may seem, I was happy to return to my squalid room. Obviously, Slob Manor is still a better alternative to homelessness. The evening? You already know the drill.

Houseboy

I was on my way to Hawai'i Kai at 8:45am this morning. Moms was home when I arrived. So was my nephew. Apparently, all of the schools were closed in anticipation of a major storm. Moms and I made the rounds at Koko Marina ... Price Busters, Foodland, and Zippy's (for lunch). Later, for dessert, moms served Foremost® coffee ice cream. I chatted with moms until 12:40pm.

I drove my Nissan® Frontier truck to Koko Head Park. The weather was slightly dismal, but not bad. Only the landscapers were there pruning all of the large trees. I was feeling restless, so I drove back to Koko Marina. I could not find parking in the parking structure, so I ended up back at Koko Head Park. There were a few intermittent downpours. I ended up stranded under one of the large trees that was spared any pruning. Once again, I felt restless. I drove to my local bank in Kuapa Kai. I also dropped off a package at the Goodwill drop-off for moms.

I finally found parking in Koko Marina. I walked to the gym, performed my usual workout, shopped at Foodland, and returned to Slob Manor (read: rental housing). The gym was extremely crowded today for some reason. Working out was not very enjoyable. At Foodland, I purchased my usual groceries, but I was at a loss about dinner. Then, I saw small packaged hot meals in the heating bin along with the lamp-baked chickens. The hot meal (i.e., local-style bento) that I chose included chicken with gravy topped on a layer of white rice. The whole day was redeemed!

I unboxed the Eureka® Optima bagless vacuum cleaner (that the landlord had dropped off) once I was back in my squalid room. I assembled it in a matter of minutes. Then, I vacuumed the whole second floor, the bathroom, and the staircase. I also cleaned parts of my squalid room. The chore was much more than I had anticipated. Why was I cleaning up the dump? I am not the houseboy. In any case, the Eureka® Optima bagless vacuum cleaner will be headquartered in my squalid room until the landlord requests its return.

And, the major storm? There were a few downpours along with gusty winds. However, the weather cleared up by 6pm. The evening, of course, will be more of the same. Who knew?

Fixing Ubuntu

Another urban nomad kind-of-a-day was ... exactly like the urban nomad kind-of-a-day yesterday. Sheesh! The only exception was that the dreaded laundry chores awaited me when I arrived back at Slob Manor (read: rental housing). The evening? More of the same.

Last night, I uninstalled VLC player from my Toshiba® Satellite notebook computer since it appeared to not show any improvement over the Gnome® Totem player (specifically the dreadful WMV codec). In its place, I installed Mplayer with the Gnome® Mplayer front-end. So far, so good.

I have also located a cure for the problem of theme inconsistency (i.e., not all applications utilize the chosen theme). Recall that I installed the "Dust" theme onto my desktop. I discovered that some applications (usually utilities) are running as "root." By default, the root account is disabled in Ubuntu Linux. The original user/installer is simply a high-level administrator in the Linux account chain. Thus, when I installed the Dust theme, I put it into my account's preferences. "Root" applications and utilities run at the highest level and have their own preferences. To solve the inconsistency, I had to create three symbolic links using the command line in "superuser" (i.e., "sudo") mode:

sudo ln -s ~/.themes /root/.themes
sudo ln -s ~/.icons /root/.icons
sudo ln -s ~/.fonts /root/.fonts

Thus, all of my preferences in my "home" folder are now linked to the "root" folder. I could have simply enabled the "root" account, but I chose not to move away from the Ubuntu default.

Well, I am gradually solving many of the problems that I have experienced with Ubuntu Linux. There is no question that the command line cannot be avoided. Almost every fix required command line operations, which is why I am documenting the latter in the "blog." Because of the latter quirk, Linux may never realize a large "mainstream" user base. However, Linux is definitely a computer nerd's dream come true.

One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

Another urban nomad kind-of-a-day ... says it all, doesn't it? There was a new homeless guy sleeping in the pavilion at Kawaikui Beach Park this morning when I arrived. The other three regular homeless guys were there as well. Aside from Pete, the pipe-smoking homeless guy, the others decided to sleep in this morning.

I rode the bus to town as usual. Pete, the pipe-smoking homeless guy, boarded the bus in Mo'ili'ili. He ended up sitting next to me on the long bench seat at the rear of the bus. For some reason, he felt the need to do some paperwork. He kept elbowing me in the process. I almost came unglued. He appears to keep some kind of log. He also maintains a crude system of financial accounting. All of his archives are included in a grade school composition book. I have observed that a lot of homeless guys use the same type of composition book. I also observed that Pete's clothing and backpack were filthy and smudged with dirt. Although he wears the same clothes day in and day out, he did have an offensive odor. My guess is that he intentionally maintains a look of dereliction as a ruse. The rest of the day was "cookie cutter" urban nomad ... library ... gym ... you know the drill.

I returned to Slob Manor (read: rental housing). I was surprised to see a large box by my door. The box contained a new vacuum cleaner. I ascertained that the landlord had been by. I surmised that the vacuum cleaner appeared as per my request of several months ago. Better late than never. I ate a Turkey and Monterrey Jack Cheese Panini this evening courtesy my DeLonghi® "retro" contact grill and panini press. I had purchased a small container of pesto, but the container was not resealable. Thus, I did not use it to make the panini.

The symptoms of the common cold appeared to have abated, that is, until I set foot in my squalid room this afternoon. My nose has not stop running since. No doubt, I will have to down another dosage of Longs® Nite Time (i.e., fake NyQuil®) elixir tonight. Perhaps I need to clean my squalid room with the new Slob Manor vacuum cleaner.

Well, the last installment of my student loans was paid off today. That frees up $252 per month from this point forward. At the start of my payments, I was forking out circa $300 per month. Foolishly, I was enslaved to those loans for exactly ten years. That's essentially a mortgage, my friends. And, what do I have to show for it? Several useless diplomas. I verified that the payment was drawn from my local bank account. No more Sallie Mae® nonsense.

The Feedjit® Live Feed is still reporting heavy searches for babe pictures, all of which are ending up at the "blog." Sheesh!

Homeless and Restless

Last night, out of sheer desperation, I downed a dosage of the Longs® Nite Time (i.e., fake NyQuil®) elixir at 9pm. The cold symptoms were totally out of hand. Within minutes, I felt woozy as the elixir kicked in. I could barely stay awake for another hour. Nonetheless, I experienced a restless night.

I managed to make the trek to Kawaikui Beach Park this morning even though I was very groggy. As I sat at one of the concrete picnic tables, I observed that only one of the homeless guys was in the park. A few minutes later, the Pacific Islander guy showed up. He walked around the park, no doubt still looking for the pipe-smoking homeless guy. He came by and inquired about his homeless friend. Then, he introduced himself as Eddie. I could see that he was concerned. In fact, even I had begun to wonder what happened to Pete, the pipe-smoking homeless guy. After Eddie departed, I was impressed that he was worried about his friend.

Another urban nomad kind-of-a-day was fulfilled despite the ravages of the common cold. The itinerary began with the usual ride to town on the bus. Pete, the pipe-smoking homeless guy boarded the bus at the Aina Haina Shopping Center. I was silently relieved to see him. I read Chalmers Johnson's book, "Nemesis," in between lapsing in and out of a coma in the inner courtyard of the library. Like clockwork, I walked to the gym and performed my usual workout. Then, I returned to Slob Manor (read: rental housing) on the bus.

For dinner, I ate my favorite panini concoction courtesy my DeLonghi® "retro" contact grill and panini press. I plan eat panini for most of the week. The beauty of redundancy!

Illin' (Yet Again)

I was completely fatigued from sleep deprivation this morning. What started out as allergy symptoms a few days ago has blossomed into the dreaded common cold. Half asleep, I made the short trek to Kawaikui Beach Park at 7:40am. I sat on one of the integrated concrete benches along the outer perimeter of the pavilion. I was afforded an excellent view of the ocean. None of the three homeless guys were anywhere in sight. A few minutes later, a guy walked by and said hello. He was clearly a Pacific Islander. He stopped to chat with me while he lit up a cigarette. I was about to become unglued because of the stench of cigarette smoke. However, the Pacific Islander asked me if I had seen the tall, thin homeless guy. I asked if the person in question wore glasses. Yes, he confirmed. I gathered that he was talking about the pipe-smoking homeless guy.

As it turns out, the pipe-smoking homeless guy's name is Pete. Six years ago, Pete was an engineer on one of the military bases, according to the Pacific Islander. Something happened that led to his dismissal. He ended up living at Kawaikui Beach Park. That's where's Pete has been ever since. The bad fortune did not end there. He ended up divorced as well. He has two kids, a daughter who lives on the mainland and a son who lives on one of the neighbor islands. His mother lives in a house in Kalihi. She has asked Pete to move into the house, but he refused. All in all, I learned quite a bit about the pipe-smoking homeless guy. Obviously, he is not one of the run-of-the-mill homeless.

In some respects, Pete's life is similar to mine. Of course, I have not made the final decision to become homeless yet. However, I am pretty sure that his internal debates were a mirror of my own. Clearly, Pete had other alternatives to homelessness. He could have found another wage slave job and maintained the status quo. Had I not walked to Kawaikui Beach Park, I would never have learned more about the pipe-smoking homeless guy. In fact, that's all he would be ... the pipe-smoking homeless guy.

I departed for Hawai'i Kai in my Nissan® Frontier truck at 9am. Moms was home when I arrived. So, was my nephew. As to be expected, he was already engaged in a video game. Moms and I made the rounds in Hawai'i Kai ... Longs® in Kuapa Kai, Ross® in the Hawai'i Kai Towne Center, and Foodland in Koko Marina. We ate lunch at Yummy's. Later, moms served Foremost® vanilla ice cream for dessert.

I chatted with moms until 1pm. I drove to Koko Head Park and spent an hour there. I then drove back to Koko Marina, found shaded parking, walked to the gym, performed my usual workout, shopped at Foodland, and returned to Slob Manor (read: rental housing). The evening? Same ol' shit.

I located the bottle of Longs® Nite Time (i.e., fake NyQuil®) that I reluctantly kept around after my last bout with the common cold a few months ago. I'll be droppin' back a few doses before midnight. Sheesh!

Consequences of Truth

The anticipated storm certainly did materialize late last night. The morning, however, was clear and beautiful. I piddled around in my squalid room at Slob Manor (read: rental housing) until I departed for town at 9:40am. I followed the urban nomad kind-of-a-Sunday routine. The highlight of the day was when I espied the hottie gym trainer working with a gym member. Baby was looking mighty fine. My ride back to Slob Manor on the bus took a little over two hours. Let it suffice to say that there are good days for bus commuting, and there are bad days. I finally arrived back at Slob Manor at 3:05pm, just in time to perform the dreaded laundry chores.

The second floor was still a disaster area. Yet, I was able to scrape together something edible for an early dinner. The Indian guy mentioned that he had notified the landlord and the other Slob Manor tenants about the party prior to its occurrence. I was relieved. My fear that the landlord would hear about the party from second-hand sources and go off on a tirade again was abated. Remember the outcome of the foolish party of a year ago?

I have commenced reading the New Living Translation (NLT) printed (in China) by Tyndale House. The text is highly readable since it uses a "thought-for-thought" (i.e., functional equivalence) framework. Unfortunately, the NLT is not an accurate translation. Neither is the New International Version (NIV), which I also considered. My current goal is to overlook the inaccuracies in order to complete the entire reading of the Scriptures. The less literal translation allows for easier comprehension and reflection. So, why the renewed interest in the Good Book? With all of the reading that I have been doing lately, I have come to understand the plight of humanity. Although we may not be careening toward total destruction, we are looking at extremely difficult times ahead. Greed and lust for power, if continued unabated, will most certainly bring on the secular Apocalypse. There is a correlation between the latter and Armageddon. Of course, there is an inevitability to breaking Universal Law. Thus, I must continue the search for the truth.

One-Man Spending Spree

Another urban nomad kind-of-a-day ... like grains of sand in an hourglass. I was fairly groggy this morning as I made my way to Kawaikui Beach Park. Last night, the Indian guy was setting up for some kind of poker party. He was in and out and thrashing about until 2am or so. He had not mentioned the party to anyone in the house including myself. I only happened to observe that the second floor common area looked like a gambling den. I hope that he had at least notified the landlord. Parties are not allowed at Slob Manor (read: rental housing). However, the Indian guy doesn't really care much about any rules or anyone else for that matter.

All three homeless guys were in the park when I arrived. The park maintenance guy now recognizes me. "You only come here to watch the surfers?" he asked, implying that I should be in the water. I told him that I come to the park to relax. He mentioned that a big storm was coming in tonight. I sat at one of the concrete picnic tables. I looked out at the ocean. I also glanced over to see what the homeless guys were doing. After a few minutes, I ate my breakfast (i.e., a cup of granola). Then, I returned to Slob Manor. The Indian guy was still asleep, but the "Poker Palace" was ready for action.

I was on my way to town at 8:45am on the bus. I spent quite a bit of time lapsing in and out of a coma in the inner courtyard of the library. I also completed reading Gary Sick's book, "October Surprise." I have commenced the reading of Chalmers Johnson's Book, "Nemesis: The Last Days of the American Republic." The sunny morning yielded to cloud cover and some intermittent showers. I walked to the gym and performed my usual workout. When I exited the gym, I was relieved that I had just missed a huge downpour.

I rode the bus back to Slob Manor, making one transfer in Kaimuki. I kept wondering when the poker party was going to start. Well, I discovered that the party was in progress when I arrived back at 5pm. The front door was wide open. When I walked upstairs, I saw that there were about 30 guys (no babes) all sitting around, drinking brewskis, playing poker, belching, and yelling. A typical male-bonding event. I locked myself in my squalid room.

I was not even able to access my food in the refrigerator. Most likely, the fridge was stuffed with brewskis anyway. At 6:30pm, I departed Slob Manor. I drove my Nissan® Frontier truck to Mo'ili'ili and stopped off at Down to Earth to purchase a container of psyllium. Whoa! The price was double what it was before. Fortunately, I managed to find psyllium in the bulk foods section. I purchased a little over a pound for $6 and some change.

I was starving by then, so I drove to Kahala Mall. I was at a loss to find a place to eat. Finally, I forced myself to understand that, as a pauper, my choices were limited. In other words, Taco Bell® was beckoning me. I ordered two Cheesy Double Beef Burritos. I walked to the office building adjacent to the mall. I sat on one of the concrete benches. Since all of the offices were closed, the place was extremely quiet. I was able to enjoy my modest meal in peace. Incidentally, Kahala Mall itself was packed with crazed shoppers. I spent almost 30 minutes before finding a parking spot.

Returning to the mall was a nightmare. There were so many satanic gargoyles spending money like there is no tomorrow. Every store was filled with shoppers. All of the food places and restaurants were also busy. Everyone was having a good time. I felt so out of place. Yet, I, too, was spending more money than necessary. I purchased an "Aloha Pineapple" smoothie at Jamba Juice® before moseying over to Barnes & Noble®.

I meandered around the bookstore for over an hour. However, I spent most of the time in the "Religion" section. I inspected the available translations of the Good Book in order to find a decent modern translation to purchase. I settled for the New Living Translation, although I know that it is inaccurate. I already possess an accurate translation and will use it for cross-referencing. I finally left Kahala Mall at 9:40pm after spending $24 total during whole evening adventure. One-man spending spree.

When I arrived back at Slob Manor, all of the lights were on, but no one was home. That's kind of like the Slob Manor residents themselves, eh? The whole second floor reeked of stale brewskis. Crap was everywhere. After completing a few mundane tasks, I locked myself in my squalid room. That was the end of my big night out on the town. Wheee! I am not certain about what the other Slob Manor residents thought about the poker party. No doubt, the landlord will hear about the soirée. All I can say is, "Not my problem."

Begin the Beguile (Again)

Another urban nomad kind-of-a-day once again commenced at Kawaikui Beach Park at 7:45am this morning. All three homeless guys were in the park. The pipe-smoking homeless guy was sitting in his usual spot. The homeless guy with the bicycle was washing and shaving in the outdoor shower facility. Hard as it may be to believe, the homeless guys at Kawaikui Beach Park have a decent existence. They have shelter from the elements courtesy the pavilion. There's a fairly clean restroom and several water fountains. And, there is an outdoor shower facility (with no hot water). A few minutes later, I observed another guy washing and shaving. He had parked his truck earlier in the parking lot. After showering, he dried off and changed clothes. I suspected that he, too, is homeless. Why else would he be showering at the park?

I returned to Slob Manor (read: rental housing) by 9am. I performed a couple of mundane tasks before departing for town on the bus. The itinerary was the same as usual. I spent 3.5 hours in the inner courtyard of the library. Then, I walked to the gym and performed my usual workout. At 4pm, I rode the bus back to Slob Manor. The evening? Same ol' shit.

Incidentally, I should mention that I have noticed a drastic increase in the number of homeless people. Don't even pay attention to so-called "counts" provided by various agencies. The fools have no idea about what's going on. There is, in fact, no way to obtain an accurate count of the homeless. Just by riding the bus, I have observed a drastic increase in the number of shopping carts parked in or near the various regional parks, even the small parks in town. A large number of sheltered bus stops (with benches) have been staked out by the homeless. In addition, there is no telling how many are incognito. Since I am always in locales that the homeless frequent (e.g., the library), I am privy to observe the many people whom I suspect to be homeless. They spend all day, every day at the library. They have backpacks that are stuffed beyond capacity. They carry several pieces of luggage (i.e., backpacks, gym bags, plastic bags). In the daily grind, the latter trend may be unnoticeable. However, I am in a unique position to see what's happening. I am watching the slow, but inevitable, breakdown of society as we know it.

Of course, no one really believes that a breakdown is in progress. Economic recovery is just around the corner, they all say. With each passing day, they wait for the stock market to surge again and rebuild their 401(k) accounts. Already anticipated is the "Obama Bounce" in the markets just a couple of weeks from now. A real estate refinance "bubble" is currently inflating. Things have got to be looking up, right? I don't think so. All economic indicators are tanking. The Dow should already be below 7,000 right now. Frankly, as I have stated before, I am waiting for "bubble" of all "bubbles" to inflate and provide me with a ticket outta here.

Well, it seems that Palm® has finally made the decision to discontinue its PDA line in order to develop its "smartphones." There is a brand new "smartphone" coming with a new look, a new interface, and a new operating system. From what I can tell, there will be no upgrades for the Palm® TX. It's heading for the gadget graveyard.

Being of Nothing (Reprise)

Another morning at Kawaikui Beach Park had me wondering whether the time spent there is beneficial or poisonous. Lately, I have not felt refreshed after my morning stints at the beach. Instead, I am riddled with anxiety and pangs of regret. The beautiful view of the ocean is an inspiration for retrospection. Hence, I have taken full advantage of the opportunity. However, retrospection is not always a remedy for a troubled mind. I have not found solace yet. There has been no redemption.

Two of the homeless guys were in the park when I arrived. The homeless guy with the bicycle was gone. One of the guys was sleeping in the pavilion. The pipe-smoking homeless guy was sitting at the usual concrete picnic table. Within a few minutes, he walked to the restrooms and came back with cleaning supplies and some cleaning equipment. He inadvertently woke up the other homeless guy when he initiated the tedious task of cleaning the pavilion. He was still cleaning the pavilion when I left.

I walked back to Slob Manor (read: rental housing) and performed a few mundane tasks. At 10am, I headed off to Hawai'i Kai in my Nissan® Frontier truck. Moms was home when I arrived. Moms informed me that my nephew would be accompanying us to town. My nephew was sacked out on the couch in the living room.

Moms and I ate lunch at Loco Moco in Koko Marina. Moms also shopped for a groceries at Foodland. After dropping off the groceries, moms, my nephew, and I loaded up the truck and drove to town. I dropped moms and my nephew off on Bishop Street. They were both going to the law office where my sister-in-law is employed. I drove on to Kukui Plaza to park my truck.

I walked to the gym and performed my usual workout. After a nice lukewarm shower, I meandered to Ross® to meet moms there. Moms and I had expected that she would be out of the courthouse within an hour. Moms wanted to shop at Ross® before returning home. I waited for over an hour. Finally, I saw moms and my nephew appear. Moms had just finished at the courthouse. As late as it was, we postponed shopping at Ross® until next week. I was surprised that my nephew was going to ride back with us. He was supposed to spend the afternoon assisting his mother at work.

Moms, my nephew, and I discussed what happened at the courthouse, which was apparently nothing. Moms spent the whole time sitting around. The punchline is that moms will probably have to make another appearance in court. The House of Lolo was there. The lolo's daughter, the ugly ho', had accompanied her son, the owner of the mangy House of Lolo mutt. The ugly ho' allegedly "made faces" at moms when she was leaving. The ugly ho' is already hideous, so the gesture was moot.

Moms served up Foremost® vanilla ice cream for a late dessert when we returned. My nephew quickly began a video game session. I departed at 4pm. I made one stop at Safeway® in Kuapa Kai to shop for groceries before returning to Slob Manor. I performed the dreaded laundry chores. For dinner, I ate scraps of leftover food, nothing worthy of mention. My real dinner was a chocolate muffin courtesy the Safeway® bakery.

The Oceanic cable modem service went down at 6pm this evening. I am beginning to suspect that the lapses in service has to do with the extreme amounts of downloading or file sharing that is occurring in the Slob Manor household. I have observed that the modem data send/receive LEDs are fully lit (not just flickering) all day and all night. I had already downgraded the TrendNet® wireless router to 802.11g speeds. However, I took yet another step to limit the wireless transmission to 802.11b speeds. My own Net activities are also limited (at my computer) even though I have a hard-wired Ethernet connection to the router.

So, I am back to composing the "blog" using the gedit text editor. I save the file until the cable modem service is restored. Then, I copy and past the hand-coded HTML text into the "blog" interface. Because of the ignorance and inconsiderate nature of the Slob Manor tenants, I am once again forced to make concessions. The cable modem service was eventually restored at 9pm. By then, I was not really in the mood to deal with the "blog."

Ponzi Empire

Another urban nomad kind-of-a-day commenced at Kawaikui Beach Park. As fatigued as I am every morning, I still drag myself to the beach at 7:35am or so. The ritual is nonsensical. However, I am compelled to find a purpose for my being. Being in somewhat natural surroundings at least provides me with a semblance of what was always around before human existence, and after as well. Two of the homeless guys were still in the park. The third guy had already departed. I sat on one of the integrated concrete benches along the outer perimeter of the pavilion. "Good morning," said the homeless guy who owns a bike as he was preparing to brush his teeth at the water fountain. I saw the other pipe-smoking homeless guy sitting at the concrete picnic table that suffices as his home. Both of them departed a few minutes later.

I ate my breakfast (i.e., a cup of granola) and looked out at the ocean. Then, I walked about and made a casual inspection of the pipe smoking homeless guy's concrete picnic table. He had placed carpet scraps on the bench and on the table for padding. There were assorted odd items left on the table, which I presumed was to deter anyone from sitting there. The large tree adjacent to the concrete picnic table had a variety of plastic bags hanging from its branches. Odd items and cookware were visible. At the base of the tree was a dilapidated barbeque grill. There is a fence at the far end of the park which is part of a huge multi-million-dollar estate. I could see a variety of luggage and rolled up sleeping bags lining the fence, albeit mostly hidden by shrubbery. That's where the three homeless guys store most of their worldly possessions.

I left the park at 9am in order to begin the nauseatingly banal urban nomad itinerary in town (i.e., library, gym). Miraculously, I found myself back at Slob Manor (read: rental housing) by 5pm. I ate more delicious panini again for dinner courtesy my DeLongi® "retro" contact grill and Panini press.

The shitty Oceanic® cable modem service went out at 6:30pm. Lately, the service has been going down at least once per day for extended periods of time. The service resumed at 9pm, but in a spotty fashion. Hawai'i is a third-world colony. That reminds me. There has been no reasonable explanation for the power outage the other week. HECO could find no damage caused by the lightning, so no transformer was hit. Yet, over sixteen hours was required to restore service.

On a side note, I have been spending considerable time contemplating the collapse of empire and its consequences. As a preface, though, I should note that there are presently two schools of thought concerning the "system." The "mainstream" apparently believes that the empire is simply going through another business cycle. Soon enough, the pundits assert, the "system" will return to the status quo. At the other end of the spectrum is the secular dispensationalists who believe that the time is up for the "system." We are in a state of collapse, they say. Well, as an engineer with an MBA, I decided that I should become my own pundit. My take on the situation is that the empire is very close to collapse. However, the current global recession has bought some time. The key, of course, is Peak Oil. And, right now, with global oil consumption down considerably, the Peak Oil issue has been preempted.

Economically, there is ample evidence to suggest that a lot of "funny business" is going on. The Fed has reduced short-term interest rates to zero percent. In other words, the fed no longer has a monetary policy. At zero percent, the Fed can essentially "print" an infinite amount of dollars. The money is essentially free. We keep hearing about the cost of the so-called "bailouts" and the projected trillions of dollars that the new administration is planning to spend in order to stimulate the economy. One has to wonder where that money is coming from. We keep hearing that foreigners (i.e., the Chinese, Japanese, Russians, and Middle Eastern Kingdoms) are lending the empire the money. Yet, how is that possible in the case of a global recession? The alleged lending nations are experiencing severe economic contractions of their own. And, why would those nations lend the empire money that yields zero percent in interest? Frankly, I believe that certain rumors about the Fed secretly purchasing back the empire's debts through off-shore channels has a lot of credence. The Fed now has the ability to "print" an infinite supply of money. Why not use the dough to purchase back the outstanding debt?

What all of that means, of course, is that there is a positive feedback loop of money. Sooner or later, there will be extreme hyperinflation as a result. Is the latter an intended result? From my own limited punditry, I believe that the intention is to fuel another large "bubble." We are in a serial "bubble" economy. Without a true collapse of the "system," it cannot reset and begin a new. Thus, new "bubbles" must be inflated in order to maintain what is called the status quo (i.e., high debt-based economy requiring extreme asset price inflation).

And, what of dollar devaluation? In hyperinflationary circumstances, dollar devaluation poses a serious threat. However, the empire has the luxury of its dollar serving as the world's reserve currency. In and of itself, being a reserve currency should not imply long-term stability. However, the empire has its "war machine" (i.e., the military-industrial complex) as its currency insurance policy. The "war machine" with its over 800 permanent military bases abroad is what implicitly keeps the dollar afloat for the time being.

There is a huge "shell game," a huge Ponzi scheme, at play. The world is being flooded with the empire's dollars. Dollars that "disappeared" in the Crash of 2008 are being replaced by newly "printed" dollars. Bad debts have been purchased or taken on as collateral and replaced by newly "printed" dollars. The empire is incurring more debt, but it is secretly paying off the latter with newly "printed" dollars. Will the "shell game" ever end? As a minor pundit, I have to answer in the affirmative. The empire has become brazenly cocky. There will be "blowback." However, there will possibly be at least one more "bubble." For a while, I thought that there was a possibility for several more "bubbles" of decreasing time durations and a decreasing Fed interest rate window. Subsequently, I realized that the "system" could not survive burst-like fluctuations.

I am waiting on that last "bubble" to inflate. Then, I am selling everything that I possibly can. And finally, the exodus will come. I can hardly wait. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!

Being of Nothing

"Here I am, for instance, with a bourgeois upbringing and a working-class income. Which class do I belong to? Economically I belong to the working class, but it is almost impossible for me to think of myself as anything but a member of the bourgeoisie. And supposing I had to take sides, whom should I side with, the upper class which is trying to squeeze me out of existence, or the working class whose manners are not my manners?" -- George Orwell

I just don't know. There I was at Kawaikui Beach Park this morning at 7:40am along with two of the three homeless guys. Not much separates me from them. I sleep in a sleeping bag, but I have a squalid room in Slob Manor (read: rental housing) as opposed to the park pavilion. Sometimes I wonder if I should just pack up and go back to living in the detestable "condotel" unit. After all, I "own" the dump. Why am I renting a room with a bunch of slobs? Just ruminating, I suppose. Alas, what better way to commence another urban nomad kind-of-a-day, eh?

I followed the usual urban nomad itinerary. The routine is so nauseatingly banal that I will spare its inclusion in the "blog." Yet, the banality is obviously much more desirable than, say, life in Middle Eastern Gaza right now. I often wonder how I am to be "judged" in the time of reckoning. Although I am of the impoverished class in the empire, I have experienced a privileged life-style as opposed to the majority of citizens on the planet. Hardships for me are a joke in comparison. The only real hardship in the empire is the ability to pay for useless crap. My life decisions are simply a matter of pending purchases. What real satisfaction can anyone attain from a total material-based existence? Perhaps that is why the majority of the empire's citizens are egotistical satanic gargoyles who are running amuck with crazed kabuki-mask smirks painted on their faces.

I actually enjoyed my panini dinner courtesy my DeLonghi® "retro" contact grill and panini press. I am thinking that maybe I should expand my panini culinary horizon. Would I be so bold as to grill a Turkey, Pesto, and Monterrey Jack Cheese Panini? Whoa! That could be too much superfluous excitement for the oversized cranium.

I look forward to another evening of the same ol' shit. Sitting in front of my Toshiba® Satellite notebook computer with no other worry except how I will financially survive another year, I can safely say that my concerns are a far cry from that of the many who are truly suffering. As I sit and compose the useless "blog," read the remaining alternative news sites that I find acceptable (i.e., no Obamamania), or read the few "blogs" that I find worthy, I have only a false sense of security. Time is running out. Either my own time is coming, or the secular Apocalypse will bring the requisite demise to us all. Well, at least I have a new Ubuntu Linux desktop. Did you peruse the screenshot that I posted in the "blog"? Isn't it great?

Making the Rounds

I was on my way to Hawai'i Kai at 8:20am this morning in my Nissan® Frontier truck. Moms was home when I arrived. My nephew was also home. When he woke up a few minutes after my arrival, he immediately initiated another video game session on my bro's new Sony® HD widescreen LCD tube. To my surprise, I discovered that moms' dental appointment was canceled once again. So, moms and I resorted to the old routine. We made the rounds to Longs® in Kuapa Kai and Foodland in Koko Marina. For lunch, moms and I stopped off at Panda Express® in the Hawai'i Kai Towne Center. Later, moms served up Foremost® coffee ice cream for dessert. I chatted with moms until 1:35pm.

I spent only 30 minutes at Koko Head Park. I was fatigued from the lack of sleep, and the myriad flies were buzzing around the oversized cranium. Some of the flies attempted to land on the oversized cranium. I couldn't take it any longer. I drove to Koko Marina, found shaded parking, walked to the gym, performed my usual workout, shopped at Foodland, and returned to Slob Manor (read: rental housing) by 5pm.

I ate a smaller portion of my usual veggie "rations" for dinner. However, within an hour, my stomach began churning. I could feel a bout of Montezuma's Revenge coming on. I quickly grabbed a toilet seat cover/shield from my stash and immediately walked to Kawaikui Beach Park. I used the filthy public restroom facilities there as opposed to the filthy bathroom in Slob Manor. The park's restroom is probably cleaner since it is hosed down daily. After gaining relief, I walked to the shoreline and caught a glimpse of the spectacular sunset. I also observed all three homeless guys sitting in the pavilion. After a few minutes, I walked back to Slob Manor to begin another benign evening. Yes, we all know the drill already.

I have not really had an appetite for any kind of food (except ice cream) in weeks. The only time that I eat "normal" food is when moms and I dine at the usual places. Whenever I go food shopping, I become nauseous when I review the choices in the market. Fat slobs and satanic gargoyles around me seem to scoop up anything possibly edible in sight. Even the appearance of the various food items (including pictures on sealed items) almost make me gag. I am worried that I may stop eating all together. Then, I will just wither away.

A lot of food products (and byproducts) are triggers for Montezuma's Revenge. Excess meat and poultry products cause "regularity" problems. Worst of all, I just can no longer fathom the consumption of the myriad toxic chemicals that are laced in all our food. What exactly is there to eat?

Solitary Confinement

Another urban nomad kind-of-a-Sunday ... or should I say Lou's Urban Nomad Theater ... was ready for prime time. I did not sleep well at all last night. The ice cream may have been the culprit. As groggy as I was, I walked to Kawaikui Beach Park this morning with my breakfast (i.e., cup of granola). I was able to confirm that the three homeless guys were there. I rode the bus to town. After checking my mail at the Post Office, I headed straight to the gym. I performed my usual workout and was on a bus heading out of town at 12:35pm. I was reluctant to stop off at the Aina Haina Shopping Center, but I did not want to drive my Nissan® Frontier truck there later. I ended up at Foodland to purchase some Ahi Poke for dinner. I was back at Slob Manor (read: rental housing) by 2:10pm, just in time to perform the dreaded laundry chores. I locked myself in my squalid room for the rest of the afternoon. I'll be in "solitary confinement" for the rest of the evening as well.

Last night, I modified the Gnome® desktop for Ubuntu Linux on my Toshiba® Satellite notebook computer using the "Dust" theme. The theme is essentially the new option available in "Intrepid Ibex" (v8.10). The theme is obviously very dark. At first, it seemed to be a good alternative to the almost "cartoon-ish" default theme. What is most noticeable is that the "Dust" theme seems to clash with almost all of the content in the Web browser. A few of the applications did not take to the theme very well either. Yet, I will probably stay with it. I prefer the "Dust" theme over the bright brown color of the default. I also downloaded the "Pretty" wallpaper from the Gnome-Look site.

Well, there is very little direction left for the "blog" as I await the final exodus or the secular Apocalypse, whichever comes first. The urban nomad life-style is quite mundane, yet thoroughly transient. Ever aspect of the urban nomad life-style borders on homelessness. Therefore, I am equipping myself as if I am on the verge of living on the streets. All of my purchases are necessities. And, at this point in time, those purchases are extremely "portable" in nature. I am not beholden to my possessions in any case. If necessary, I can now jettison most of the crap without blinking an eye.

I received an e-mail from Sallie Mae® stating that my absolute last payment for my despicable student loans will be on January 14th. The form letter also congratulated me. For what? Paying off the entire $46,000 plus an enormous amount of interest? Being a debt slave for ten years? Well, now that I have I have paid off my so-called "higher education," I can shred my useless diplomas. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaa!

I also heard from Caroll in Santa Cruz. She was laid off from the car dealership. She worked a seasonal job at Gottschalks and also continues to work part-time at Longs®. Time are tough, but Caroll continues to soldier on.

On a sad note, I transferred $1,550 from my investment accounts to my local bank in order to cover the expenses of last month. Far too much money is slipping through my fingers. And, I am becoming extremely fatigued as a result. How much longer can it go on? Forever, I suppose.

Lou's Urban Nomad Theater

Another urban nomad kind-of-a-day has brought a whole new meaning to banality. My trek to Kawaikui Beach Park was not hampered by the gale force winds. The three homeless guys were all present. I sat on one of the benches along the periphery of the pavilion. Too bad that Lou's Kabuki Theater is now defunct. Remember the old days at Pavilion One in Waikiki Beach?

I was on my way to town on the bus at the usual time. Once again, I parked myself at one of the tables in the inner courtyard of the library. I completed reading Robert Parry's book, Trick or Treason," the other day. I cannot even begin to express how sickened I was after digesting the information. The Congressional investigation headed by Lee Hamilton was apparently a ruse to bury the whole affair. I found the brief profile of Hamilton to be informative. Hamilton popped up again for the "September 11th" investigation. Little wonder why the result was also a joke. I have commenced reading Gary Sick's book, "October Surprise." I am more convinced now than ever that there is more to the story of the "September 11th" event than we know.

I have have also noted that both books indirectly discuss the clandestine relationship between Iran, Israel, and the empire. My suspicion is that the latter "backdoor" relationship still exists, which is why the bombing of Iran never came about. There is much more than meets the eye in current affairs.

I did my usual workout at the gym. Then, I rode the bus back to Slob Manor (read: rental housing) with a 30-minute wait at the Kaimuki transfer point. I was not too enthused about eating dinner. So, I ate my usual Dole® salad mix with the two Tina's® burritos that I purchased at Safeway®. For dessert, I ate my "emergency" pint of Häagen-Dazs® ice cream. And, the evening? Yep, same ol' shit.

Lessons in Redundancy

Another urban nomad kind-of-a-day commenced with an early morning walk to Kawaikui Beach Park. I almost had to postpone my trek there as heavy rain had bombarded the area just hours earlier. As usual, the one homeless guy was there. He sat in the pavilion on his camping chair. Yesterday, I had observed his "home" at the West end of the park. He has a variety of plastic bags and other possessions slung over the tree next to the concrete picnic table that serves as his home base. He has a small barbeque grill and a radio as well. I sat in the pavilion for a few minutes. Then, I ventured out to one of the concrete picnic tables close to the shore. Most of the park was saturated with water. The landscape was more like a marsh. I brought along a cup of granola for breakfast.

I departed for town on the bus at the usual time. I followed the usual urban nomad itinerary ... library, gym, blah, blah, blah. We all know the drill. I was back at Slob Manor by 5pm. Once again, I made a couple of my trademarked panini for dinner on my DeLonghi® "retro" contact grill and panini press. I grilled the panini right on the floor of my squalid room. Say, I'm beginning to resemble the homeless guy at Kawaikui Beach Park. Sheesh! The evening, of course, will be another futile lesson in redundancy.

New Year's Day 2009

Well, the so-called "new year" is upon us. I didn't notice anything that made a difference. So, let's move on already, shall we? First, I should mention that a huge downpour commenced at 9:30pm last night. Prior to that, the smoke and fumes from the neighborhood fireworks were causing me grief. I had actually contemplated stepping out to Waikiki for old times' sake, but the sudden rainstorm abruptly ended that foolishness. Then, unfortunately, the rain stopped as abruptly as it started.

I had considered walking to Kawaikui Beach Park just before midnight as an alternative activity. However, the rain, albeit moderate, started up again at 11pm. At midnight, there were a few bursts of fireworks, but nothing like last year. The rain, perhaps, was the culprit. There were still enough smoke and fumes to add to the fun.

The rain continued on through most of the night, but it made the morning much more refreshing. The weather cleared a couple of hours before my stroll to Kawaikui Beach Park. I was able to enjoy the scenery for about an hour. Two of the homeless guys were sitting in the pavilion, where I assumed they spent the night. I walked back to Slob Manor (read: rental housing) and consumed a couple of cups of Quaker® Granola for breakfast. I had planned to wash my Nissan® Frontier truck again. However, the possibility of more rain postponed those plans.

I drove to the Hawai'i Kai Towne Center at 10am. I was surpised to see how empty the place was. I had to use the restroom facilities there. I was able to abscond a partial roll of asswipe paper (i.e., toilet tissue) that was ready for disposal. I stopped off at Ross® to purchase a Universal Voyager® CD Travel Case (made in China) for $5 in order to store my hurdy-gurdy "torrent" collection. The store was practically empty, which made shopping somewhat tolerable. I also stopped by my local bank in Kuapa Kai. I quickly ran into Safeway® to check a few prices. Whoa! A lot of products are much less expensive than at Foodland.

I then drove to Koko Marina to purchase a bus pass at Foodland. Eventually, I ended up at Koko Head Park. I spent well over three hours of time there. I did some reading. I also navigated from place to place, sitting at different picnic tables and benches. I also walked around the park several times.

At 2pm, I drove back to Safeway® in Kuapa Kai. I purchased packages of Lucerne® Provolone and Mozzarella cheeses, a Signature Café® Tuscan Chicken sandwich, and two Tina's® burritos. I then reluctantly returned to Slob Manor. I ate the sandwich for an early dinner.

With nothing else to do, and both the washer and dryer occupied, I meandered back to Kawaikui Beach Park. There were quite a few people stationed at the various picnic tables. The homeless guy was secure at his "private" picnic table at the West end of the park. The whole pavilion was filled with Pacific Islanders. I could see their gold teeth glimmering from where I sat on the grass at the West end, a stone's throw from the homeless guy. I did a little more reading. At 5pm, I headed back to Slob Manor. I took a shower and commenced the dreaded laundry chores.

The evening will be more of the same. Same ol' shit, that is. There's just no end to the banality, is there? Another day, another year. It's all the same to me. Sheesh!

Well, the year has ended, and I have essentially survived unscathed. My financial losses were minimized, and I realized a small gain in "owner's equity." I also discovered that the hyperlink to the net worth spreadsheet (see Financial Report) was malformed and, thus, inaccessible. It was supposed to link to an HTML file of the spreadsheet. The version of OpenOffice that I am currently using cannot render the HTML correctly, so I have converted the spreadsheet to a PDF file.