Dystopian Dreams (Reprise)

Usual urban nomad kind-of-a-Sunday. By the way, extended perusals of the hottie gym trainer have become commonplace. Baby is always looking fine. Does baby even matter? Certainly not in the general scheme of things for the ol' lavahead.

I ran into my "homeless" buddy at Ala Moana Center this morning. He ended up chatting with me in the Makai Market, where I always sit and drink my morning coffee on Sunday. I was actually glad to see him. He was on his way to Ala Moana Beach for a swim. As usual, we discussed the various homeless people and the homeless situation. He apparently knows hundreds of the homeless, most likely because of his extensive volunteer work with the Food Bank. He gave me a few more tidbit profiles of some of the homeless regulars at the library.

Back at Slob Manor (read: rental housing), I had a brief period of quiet before the mentally insane Joker came to life in all of his stomping glory. Incidentally, the landlord left a rather lengthy note about the water faucet just outside the front entrance. Someone apparently left the water running all Thursday night. Alan mentioned that he was not the culprit. I often use the water faucet, but I am certain that I shut the valve completely. Oddly, I have returned to the dump on two occasion and have found the water running with no one around. I doubt that the older hottie living in the studio is to blame. That only leaves one suspect, and it's not Kyle.

I should mention that the noise situation has improved considerably. So, I will tolerate the nonsense as best as possible. If the noise becomes unbearable, I can always make the trek to the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala, just as I did this evening. I opted to avoid prophylactic behavior and splurged on a cup of decaffeinated coffee. And, with tablet computer in hand, I was able to post to the "blog." One would wonder why I bother considering that the "blog" is now down to one reader. Sad, isn't it?

Well, I'll be viewing the final unseen episode of "Firefly" on Hulu® tomorrow evening. I'm a little tense about that. After all, the series has really been extremely enjoyable. The "blog" is down to one reader. Soon, no one will be reading it. Changes are happening rapidly, even within my quaint lobotomized life-style. If only I could mummify the hurdy-gurdy video downloads. No "free will," I suppose. No freedom either.

On a final note, I have been attempting to curb some of my more extreme thoughts in order to prevent myself from going insane. I may delineate on a few of those thoughts in the "blog" as a mode of catharsis. In a nutshell, I am realizing that human life, aside from being a biological miracle, is nothing exceptional in the universe. I have also decoupled from the popular thought that humans and animals are completely separate. We are, in fact, more animal than anything else. Our brains, while quite exquisite, can do very little to increase the perceived separation. That's really the origin of incongruence. The original incongruence, where all incongruence stems from. The fact that we are on a collision course with a highly dystopian future confirms the incongruence. As the "blog" converges on zero readership, I will be able to delve more deeply into such matters without causing major disillusionment. Heck, even I won't be reading it. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!

The Great Die-Off

Same ol' shit. No details are necessary. I opted to remain locked in my squalid room at Slob Manor (read: rental housing) all evening and download a whole mess of hurdy-gurdy video clips. There's only so much a sane person can handle at the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala. Of course, there's only so many hurdy-gurdy video clips that a sane person can download in one sitting. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaa!

After a period of rumination, I have come to the conclusion that the world (as we once knew it) is now over. Kaput. Fini. There will not be a stable recovery from the Great Depression Redux. For most of us in empire, the elusive "American Dream" will disappear forever into mythology. Any semblance of a recovery will simply be a temporary machination of the moneychangers and powers-that-be. I have already discussed ad infinitum that humans are on a collision course with fate. We are now participants in the convergence of Peak Oil, global climate change, and overpopulation.

I can now safely say that we are living in the twilight of the failed "civilization" paradigm. We are already close to 7 billion people with almost all habitable areas being completely overdeveloped. We are pushing our food ecosystem to exhaustion, and soon soil depletion will wield its ugly head. That is, of course, if global climate change doesn't wreak havoc first. And, even if we could find a way to feed all of the open mouths of humanity, we are rapidly running down our one-time endowment of cheap energy. Once the depletion becomes obvious, there will be hell to pay. While most of the world's fools are only concerned about keeping their 4000-pound motorized chairs (read: automobiles) running, our food supplies will dwindle because most of the global agricultural base is dependent on petroleum in one form or another.

We are at Peak Civilization. We may be able to maintain the status quo for another 50 years or so. There may even be hints of recovery and boom times ahead. Both will be short-lived. The sad reality is that humanity is going to make a dramatic downturn. Eventually, if we have not destroyed ourselves by then, we will have to return to a pre-"civilized" society. All of the modern conveniences that we take for granted will be gone. Imagine what life would be like without plastic?

The human population will fall drastically as well. I can politely say that natural attrition will be the cause. However, the real truth is that there will be a lot of pain and suffering. There will be a huge population with little food, very little operational infrastructure, and not much else. Starvation, disease, and anarchy are all that's in store for the future. Realists call that phase, "The Great Die-Off." Provided that we do not destroy ourselves and most other lifeforms on earth with thermonuclear war or that we don't pass the point of no return in completely poisoning our ecosystems, humanity will survive in small pockets to begin again. Once we deplete our one-time supply of cheap energy, though, there won't be a return to the old failed "civilization" paradigm.

With fewer humans around, the earth will heal itself. The natural balance will be restored. In a sense, that will be a boom time for humans. Unfortunately, there won't be any cheap fuel sources to remake the devastating technological miracle that bolstered the failed "civilization" paradigm. The tendency to tilt toward overpopulation will be minimal. Without cheap fuel sources, another "die-off" comes around much quicker.

Obviously, I have made a lot of general and obtuse statements. I am certain that most people would not agree with me. As I've stated before, humans must live in denial in order to survive their individual lives. Sadly, denial is not an effective mechanism for the collective. An open mind should review the current state-of-affairs with the previous commentary as background. The futility of what is going on now in global economics is just a hint of the stupidity that has plagued humanity for eons. The ridiculous "shell game" that passes for solutions are no assurance that we can solve our problems anymore. In other words, we're about to pass the point of no return.

Post No. 1,916

Usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Moms has been grocery shopping with her church friends on Wednesday evenings and Sunday mornings at Foodland Farms in Aina Haina, so there's no need for us to visit Safeway® at least on Friday. Of course, I must do my own grocery shopping after my workout at the gym. I'm not as picky as moms insofar as which grocery store to visit.

Once again, I ended up at the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala this evening. I didn't purchase any beverage. I just composed this marginal post for the "blog." I should have locked myself in my squalid room at Slob Manor (read: rental housing) and downloaded hurdy-gurdy video clips all night long. Heck, I may return to the dump early just for the latter purpose.

Without sufficient "brain food," I am having much difficulty in articulating my thoughts about anything other than the mundane. I wonder if I have literally starved my brain to the point that I have become an imbecile. I really don't want to become one of the myriad mindless cadavers who stagger around the mall endlessly. A large contribution to the poor "brain food" problem is high fructose corn syrup (HFCS). I am certain of it. I have observed with some alarm that most of the food that I consume contains HFCS. No wonder my mind has been essentially blank for several weeks. I also noticed that I have developed a small permanent "spare tire" around my midriff. The "spare tire" doesn't seem to want to disappear even though I consume far less than the minimum daily caloric requirement. What does that tell you?

The sheer amount of chemicals (mostly artificial) that we consume and absorb every day is ludicrous. I assume that with such a constant and steady source of toxins, eventually enough is concentrated to cross the blood-brain barrier. Thus, all of our neurons are subjected to abnormal amounts of foreign chemicals. The brain (and, hence, the mind) must surely be affected. Is that why we see so many zombies walking around? Is that why so many people have lost their minds? Is that why we have been privy to witness so much rampant stupidity?

General Dullness VIII

I decided to forgo my cup of coffee this morning because I felt that I have been drinking too much of the beverage. Even decaffeinated coffee has some caffeine in it. Thus, I felt that I had enough residual caffeine in my body to carry me through the day. Wrong-O! I was extremely groggy all day. The caffeine withdrawal headache came on at noon. By late afternoon, the headache was really throbbing.

Skipping my morning cup of coffee did not abate my anxiety. I observed involuntary psychomotor agitation. My feet kept moving about as I tried to lapse in and out of coma at the library. I also experienced the usual hot flashes. On a positive note, I did not have to visit the restroom every 20 minutes to "drain the lizard." There were also no heart palpitations, the symptoms of which commenced again a couple of weeks ago.

So, I really wanted to resist commenting on the empire's debt ceiling crisis. However, the cheesy kabuki theater is starting to grate on my nerves. Just get rid of Social Security and Medicare already. Stop wasting time with the third-rate histrionics! Stop acting like there's more than meets the eye!

Well, I found myself at the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala this evening yet again. With a cup of decaffeinated coffee in one hand and tablet computer in the other, I attempted to emulate Charles Bukowski. All I did was make a fool of myself, although no one even noticed. In reality, I don't even know how to emulate Bukowski. I can only be the ol' lavahead. Is that just plain sad, or what?

I actually ate subjectively nutritious food today, but my brain still appears to be significantly impaired. The decaffeinated coffee almost brought me back to "normal." At least the throbbing headache vanished. The "blog" remains a casualty. After all, I'm not Bukowski. Who reads the damned thing anyway?

Denial

I am not really doing much anymore at the library. I'm just loitering with the hundreds of homeless people. Sometimes I am able to lapse in and out of a coma. Lately, I have been too preoccupied to relax. Reading is apparently a tertiary activity. I can only read bits and pieces of various books before they disappear, or I lose interest. I've also been reading small Charles Bukowski and Jack Kerouac anthologies. Many moons ago, a reader of the old journal likened my ramblings to that of Bukowski. Flattering as that may be, my writing is too mundane to be worthy of praise. Heck, the readership of the "blog" is down to two people. And, I am not one of them.

I don't exactly know why I forced myself to spend part of the evening at the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala. I didn't want to spend money on a cup of decaffeinated coffee, but I did anyway. I didn't want to compose the "blog" on my tablet computer, but I did so anyway. All I really wanted to do was to vegetate, but not at Slob Manor(read: rental housing).

I have been doing a lot of thinking lately, but my thinking processes have been impaired. The human brain apparently requires a lot of energy through healthy nutrition in order to function effectively. Since my diet is close to starvation level, I am certain that my brain is starving as well. Garbage in, garbage out.

Obviously, I have given a lot of thought to human mortality. I have also come to one conclusion: the only way to deal with mortality is through denial. We can only function if we put the thought way in the back of our minds, so to speak, through any and all distractions. In essence, we live in constant denial. Sadly, almost every aspect of human life requires the invocation of denial for normal functioning to occur. That's because humanity is all about pain and suffering. The human experience is fraught with pain and suffering. Hence, we have designed life-styles that are all about denial. I'll let you, my two readers, extrapolate the thought further for now.

Well, I finally removed a few useless "apps" from my tablet computer. Previously, the option to uninstall was available, but the "apps" would quickly reinstall themselves. How stupid is that? I'm not exactly recovering a lot of storage space, but at least I can revel in my minimalist pride. I still long for the day that the tablet computer can take over as the primary. A good spreadsheet "app" is all that I need. Yes, I could abandon the netbook computer and even my vast hurdy-gurdy video library (HGVL). As a workaround to the the HGVL, I could simply download the video clips and discard them later instead of archiving them. Who needs them anyway? Am I living in denial? The Vienna Sausage is atrophying as we speak. Sheesh!

General Dullness VII

At the library, I ran into my "homeless" buddy. I rarely see him these days. He pointed out quite a few new homeless people. The homeless population is exploding, yet the situation has been downplayed by the local "mainstream" news and local ruling elite. I am fairly certain that now is not the time to be homeless. The money for the "safety net" social programs is rapidly vanishing. Things are going to get really ugly. Not to worry, though. There won't be any large-scale revolt. Crime (i.e., stealing, killing, maiming) will remain in-class. Loser pitted against loser. Almost seems as though the whole scenario was planned by the powers-that-be, eh?

I arrived back at Slob Manor (read: rental housing) just before the rain commenced. Or, should I say, light precipitation. I decided to postpone my nightly outing to the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall). Then, the rain stopped abruptly right around the time that the West-bound bus passed by. Oh well.

Checking the Feedjit® Live Feed, I noticed that there has been a drastic increase in visits. The number of visits had dropped to all-time low and remained that way for months. Previously, myriad clowns were searching for babe pictures. Now, they are in search of pictures of hurdy-gurdy stars. Odd, very odd. However, there has also been an unbelievable amount of traffic at the usual hurdy-gurdy video download sites.

So, the clowns are all beefing up their own hurdy-gurdy video libraries. Is that a sign of global societal collapse? You be the judge.

The Voice

Yesterday, I went into lockdown in my squalid room at Slob Manor (read: rental housing) yet again when I returned from the usual urban nomad routine. I was too fatigued to go anywhere. And, with so little to add to the "blog," there was no reason for an excursion with my tablet computer.

Speaking of my tablet computer, its Web browser is phenomenal. That's the only application in constant use on both my computers. However, the netbook is considerably slower in rendering Web pages as well as with video playback. The tablet computer can play 1080p video with ease. Alas, only the netbook has a fully functioning spreadsheet program. The netbook also has a lot more on-board storage and possesses the ability to interface with a portable hard drive. The netbook runs really hot for some reason, while the tablet computer barely is warm to the touch even under hard usage.

Usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Moms is doing fine, considering that moms is nearly 90 years of age. No health problems. No prosthetics. No medications. In fact, aside from the long naps in the afternoon, moms is pretty much doing what she has done for many moons. My family has been blessed in that respect. I am, course, fully aware that anything could happen at any time.

My sister-in-law has been working steadily as a caretaker of senior citizen clients. He jobs are arranged by an agency. She is not a licensed caretaker, though. More like a babysitter for the elderly. Many of the clients are in bad shape, although they are not even close to moms' age. I have to give my sister-in-law some credit because I would find the job to be too mentally taxing. And, how much closer to the reality of mortality can a person get?

Speaking of mortality, I should point any interested reader (who's left?) in the direction of Pychotherapy Networker magazine. There's an entire section worth reading titled, "The New Grief." Last night, I read the article, "Unhappy Endings," by Katy Butler. What a wake-up call! This evening, while at the Barnes & Noble® Café in Kahala Mall with a cup of decaffeinated coffee in hand, I read another article in the section titled, "Goodbye," by Fred Wistow. An excerpt:

In a box in a corner, a very dark corner of the mind of each of us, is a voice. The voice says, "I am going to die. One day, I am going to die."

We tend not to venture near that corner. We rarely listen to that voice. Sometimes it speaks to us so clearly and emphatically that we have to listen. When we're sick, when we narrowly escape harm, when someone we know dies, we hear it speaking to us. We hear it more frequently as we age, as our bodies fail, as our cumulative experience of death increases. Sometimes the voice emits a powerful, powerful scream that shakes us mercilessly. When someone we love dies, the voice tells us that our life is forever altered, that there is no going back.

The voice reminds us that we are, like everyone else who ever lived, mortal, expendable. How we react to this voice, how we try to block it out, determines how we live our lives.

Wistow has certainly captured my own thoughts. The very same voice speaks to me, ever increasing in frequency with each passing day that I grow older. I can no longer ignore the voice as I did when I was much younger and more foolish.

When I returned to the detestable Slob Manor (read: rental housing), I immediately set up my netbook to view another episode of "Firefly" on Hulu®. Only one episode left. My, how time flies, eh?

General Dullness VI

I had a strange (and literal) run-in with a psychotic fifty-something hunchback babe (term used loosely) at Ala Moana Center this morning. I was simply walking along when the bitch slammed into me with her baby stroller. The psycho was apparently in a hurry to go into Mickey Dee's®. The trollop's baby stroller was completely covered with a mesh-type screen. However, I could see a mangy mutt sitting inside. Needless to say, I had to open Lou's School of Etiquette for matriculation. However, that's neither here or there.

Oddly, there has been a proliferation of homeless and insane people everywhere on the island. Often, the homeless are insane. However, there are many psychos running around who are not homeless (e.g., "hunchback") . I've read a variety of articles which all underscored the point that the majority of so-called "Americans" are taking psychotropic medication. A large number of them are prescribed with anti-psychotic medication. We are talking about a large number of people who have lost their minds. In my previous discussions, I have asserted that people who have lost their minds are essentially no longer functional as humans (i.e., zombies).

On a side note, I was somewhat astounded by my conversation with Ann yesterday. I recalled that she talked about working until the "official" retirement age (i.e., 65 years old) or longer as well as other employment-related topics. Mind you, the subject of wage slavery makes me nauseous as it is. However, I was somewhat confused that Ann and most "Americans" believe how easy it is to continue being a dutiful wage slave well into the senior citizen years. These people seem to believe that they will live forever. I am not faulting Ann. I used to say the recite the same kind of nonsense myself. Wage slavery could be considered a form of psychosis. Of course, what do I know?

Nada Redux

At the library, I finally ran into Ann. Apparently, she was able to secure the open position at the law firm that she interviewed with a few weeks ago. Starting date is the first week of August. Ann seemed relieved. Little wonder since her unemployment benefits will run out in less than a month. Well, I hope that the employment situation will be a little less stressful for Ann this time around.

I opted to stay at home (term used loosely) this evening. In other words, I remained locked in my squalid room at Slob Manor (read: rental housing). Big mistake. I was feeling claustrophobic in no time. And, Joker was stomping around in the allegedly cordoned off area above my squalid room.

Incidentally, I had a brief chat with the landlord the other day. The landlord apparently borrowed another $40,000 in equity after refinancing Slob Manor. The plan is to use the money to add a large outdoor patio area to the second floor. The landlord allegedly wants to swap living spaces with Joker. So, Joker will eventually be residing in the two-bedroom unit at the back of the house. Wheee!

Post No. 1,909

Usual Hawai'i Kai visit. I still haven't been feeling too well. Fatigue, mild queasiness, headache, irritability. The problem is that I have experienced the symptoms for quite a while now. Naturally, I am not capable of exercising "free will" while under duress.

An interesting tidbit. I've learned that no human could actually be an atheist because, by definition, an atheist knows with utmost certainty that God of the Yahweh Triad (i.e., Judaism, Pauline-Christianity, and Islam) does not exist. Previously, I had believed that an atheist was simply not a theist (i.e., believer of religious mumbo-jumbo). I certainly cannot claim to know that the latter deity absolutely does not exist, although the circumstantial evidence appears to point in that direction. Long story short, I will have to remain an agnostic until further notice.

Continuation of the "blog" has been a trying experience. Of course, not feeling well may have something to do with my ambivalence. However, there's just not much more for me to discuss. I would actually rather be locked in my squalid room at the despicable Slob Manor (read: rental housing) and downloading hurdy-gurdy video clips. Instead, I was once again at Kahala Mall in the evening again with my tablet computer in one hand and a cup of decaffeinated coffee in the other. Well, as I stated previously, I will maintain the daily "blog" as long as possible, for what that's worth.

Reality?

Reality sure is a strange concept, isn't it? For humans, reality is merely a microsecond timeslice, the moment of our immediate consciousness. Reality is also the three-dimensional space that we displace during that timeslice. Reality as we know it, of course, only exists within the bubble of space that envelopes our universe. The space bubble is the boundary between reality and nothing. That boundary may or may not exist. If we were in a solar system that was close to the boundary, what would happen if we could approach it? Would the bubble extend outward? Or, could we reach into nothingness? Boggles the mind, doesn't it?

By the way, I am still experiencing hot flashes. I don't sleep well. And, I am constantly fatigued. I also experienced extreme anxiety this afternoon for no apparent reason. I'm thinking that it's time once again to limit my caffeine intake. The caffeine withdrawal headaches will be difficult to deal with for a few weeks, though. Will I be able to exercise "free will" and accomplish the task? Who knows?

BlackBerry® PlayBook®

The Blackberry® Playbook® has turned out to be a useful device. Even in its blemished state, it serves me well. If I didn't need to compose the "blog," download hurdy-gurdy video clips, or use spreadsheets for vital calculations, then I could get by with just the tablet computer. The netbook would be unnecessary. With so little time left, I cannot understand why I just don't make the decision to simplify my computing needs immediately. Clearly, I am lacking "free will."

There was another major upgrade to the tablet computer's operating system yesterday. Unfortunately, the spreadsheet "app" remains totally useless. No cursor control or object selection is available either. Very annoying. Mind you, the simple features that I just mentioned would make the tablet computer quite powerful.

I ended up at Barnes & Noble® in Kahala Mall again this evening. I ordered a cup of decaffeinated coffee because my stomach was feeling slightly queasy. Yeah, a waste of money. And, no "free will" either. Sheesh!

Origins Revisited

I've been wearing my new boardshorts this week, which means that I was also due to restore my extreme monk haircut at the Institute of Hair Design. Great calendar those boardshorts. Great haircut, too.

I should mention that I have continued my outings to Kahala Mall in the evening. I've been avoiding the purchase of any beverages in order to reduce my expenditures. My blemished tablet computer is still tagging along with me. I really don't understand why I cannot seem to live less prophylactically.

With so little time left, I have decided to expound on my own theories about the origin of the universe and life on earth. Let's start with the universe now, shall we? After careful consideration, I have come to the conclusion that the "singularity" could not have existed. In theory, the "singularity" was supposed to be all matter in the entire universe compressed into an infinitely small volume with infinite mass and infinite gravity. Unfortunately, mass, gravity, and volume could not exist at Time Zero. In fact, space and time did not exist. Neither did any of the laws of physics or thermodynamics. There couldn't possibly have been any Grand Unified Force either. Nothing existed until sub-sub-atomic particles instantaneously appeared from absolutely nothing. The instantaneous appearance of near infinite amounts of particles in nothing caused an explosion of extreme magnitude as reality was literally created. The particles came into existence and began forming the building blocks of matter during the brief period known as Planck's time. The bubble known as space was formed around the expanding cloud of particles. That's my version of the "Big Bang" theory.

Notice that I used the term, "created." I am not referring to an act perpetrated by a fictitious deity such as God of the Yahweh Triad (i.e., Judaism, Pauline-Christianity, and Islam). I am simply speaking of making something from nothing. For lack of better nomenclature, I will attribute the act of creation to a benign creator. The benign creator is an agent of creation, but not necessarily a deity or force of any kind. Whatever it is, the agent is undefinable.

The origin of life on earth is equally puzzling. Science, or the religion of pseudoscience, would like us to believe that life can spontaneously generate given statistically infinite time. However, the universe is finite in age. The earth has been around an even shorter time than the universe. Scientists would like us to believe the "infinitely collapsing" universe theory in order to introduce the ambiguous element of statistical infinity. If the "singularity" never existed, then the point is moot.

The earth in its early stages was probably not suitable for life, although there was an abundance of water and oxygen. I assume that the planet was extremely hot with a tremendous amount of rain (ice near the poles). The exposed terrain had to be volcanic rock and nothing else. If life, at least plants and vegetation, had not appeared at the time that they did, the exposed terrain would have eventually eroded away into the oceanic expanse. Continued volcanic activity would replace the disappearing rocky terrain, but the same erosion process would repeat itself. Once the exposed terrain totally disappeared, there would have been no possible way for non-aquatic life to form.

What I find interesting is that the religion of pseudoscience is quite adamant that life (i.e., single cell species) "evolved" from some kind of amino acid soup cooking in small ponds, lakes, and oceans. In other words, organic matter formed by themselves out of inorganic matter. Although the organisms may have been able to reproduce without DNA, there does not seem to be any reason why it would be intelligent enough to reproduce to survive in the first place. In addition, even the most primitive cells would need to have the means to seek appropriate food for energy, and it would need some kind of "engine" to convert the food to energy. There are a lot of complex contingencies for even a primitive cell to continue to function. Incidentally, the cell would need to figure out how to reproduce rather quickly, or it would become extinct. Obviously, there are a lot of huge gaps to fill between the primitive cell and life as we know it.

The only way that evolution would make any sense is if it was directed. The first cell had to possess the capability to reproduce. In addition, the cell had to have a complete genome of all life from that point forward, or it had to have a genetic algorithm to create the genome of all subsequent species. In other words, the first cell was not primitive. How would such a cell have come about? Certainly, spontaneous generation is not an answer. Organic life did not originate from nothing. All living organisms are composed of inorganic matter. Yet, life can be defined by creation. Something animate and living was created from inanimate and non-living matter.

Time's A Ruminatin'

I neglected to mention that I ended up with a bag of salad mix, a six-pack of bagels, and two four-packs of bran muffins after grocery shopping yesterday. Everything was packaged in plastic, by the way. That will constitute my dinner for the next three days. I had intended to purchase a lamp-baked chicken, but I had second thoughts. In my mind, I could see the lamp-baked chicken in its plastic package sitting in the heating tray while the plastic leached its toxic substances into the hormone-laced chicken. Yuck!

I viewed another great episode of "Firefly" on Hulu® last night. I cannot shower enough accolades on the series. Only two more episodes to go. I'm really going to be at a loss when I've gone through the entire set. I began watching the series out of the original order, so I've already viewed the last episode. There was no "official" finale since the series was just cut off abruptly. How can we have "closure" without a finale?

Sadly, I've been ruminating on my ruminations of two days ago. The ruminations are beginning to pile up. To the casual onlooker, I may seem to be locked in an endless loop. Frankly, I thought much the same myself. In reality, though, I am looking at life through a different perspective. The passive journey of the last two years has enabled me to transcend the the various failed paradigms of human invention. Now, the entire universe, the earth, and all life on earth has new meaning ... nothing.

Even though our minds are capable of near unlimited thought, we are still mortal. We have only a limited amount of time, and that's truly our only focus. We have only enough time get our lives in order, whatever that might mean to us personally. The answers that we seek to metaphysical questions will never be answered, or at least not for a very long time. I suspect that humans will cease to exist before that were to happen. We are probably not supposed to know the answers to the big questions. What difference would it make in the grand scheme anyway?

What surprises and disappoints me is that the whole crux of humanity rests on the foundations established by a select few great thinkers and religious fanatics of long ago. What is even more surprising and disappointing is that humans continue to build upon those failed paradigms, even though the core is simply rotten. Humans should have "cleaned house" a long time ago. The failed paradigms should have been discarded. Lessons should have been learned. And, an entirely new set of paradigms should have replaced the old set.

Enough of that for now. I've got my own issues to deal with. The next five years (i.e., the last of the "good" years) will prove interesting. I'll be going through what every human must go through or already has gone through. Unfortunately, not much has sunk into the oversized cranium yet. I continue to carry on as if I have many more decades to waste.

On a side note, I have commenced the implementation of my plan to limit my exposure to normal everyday toxins. The stumbling block will be food. I am not ready to pay exorbitant prices for "organic" food. So, for the time being, I will attempt to limit my intake of conventional poison-laced food. I now see why only the affluent class can afford to be healthy. Rank-and-file peons just cannot afford healthy food and personal products. Thus, I cannot fully eliminate the toxins, I can only limit my exposure.

Time's A Wastin'

Usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Nada to report. I have, however, commenced the fruitless campaign to reduce my daily exposure to toxic substances. The melamine-based plate is being replaced with a subjectively less toxic plastic plate. I will be replacing the toxic dandruff shampoo and liquid soap with a bar of natural soap (i.e., no synthesized detergents). I am testing the hypothesis that the chemically-based soap and shampoo both cause excessive dryness to skin and scalp, respectively. If I am correct, then I should be able to get by with the natural soap alone. I'll be investigating alternatives to my current toxic toothpaste and laundry detergent as well. For the time being, I will simply reduce the quantities being used.

As for my morning coffee, I am still debating the issue. I can't be spending so much money on beverages in the morning and also for beverages just to sit in the Barnes & Noble® Café in the evening at Kahala Mall. Of course, I really don't need to sit in the café at all. Last night, I was able to sit in another part of the bookstore and still compose the "blog." And, that's exactly what I did this evening, too.

I am somewhat fatigued from all of the useless ruminations of yesterday. I'll be returning to Slob Manor (read: rental housing) earlier than usual in order to view another episode of "Firefly" on Hulu®. Then, perhaps, I will download a few more choice hurdy-gurdy video clips. Yeah, I know that's a total waste of time, especially for a senior citizen with an atrophying Vienna Sausage. I've wasted many hours in the last four years on the extremely benign activity. Will I waste my last five "good" years doing the same? Let's hope not.

Maslow's Mistake

Same ol' shit, with the exception that there was still no food in the fridge for me at Slob Manor (read: rental housing). Upon returning from town at 2:30pm, I could not make the simple decision about where I would eat for dinner. I wanted to procure another sandwich at Subway®, but I couldn't make a decision about the location. Nor could I determine the time of afternoon that was suitable for a meal. Then, there was the issue of combining the sandwich dinner with an outing to Kahala Mall sometime later in the afternoon. However, I had much difficulty in reconciling the fact that I would not be able to brush my teeth for hours after that. Sheer stupidity!

Time is really of the essence because I have so little of it left. I finally figured out that only one of my hereditary uncles has actually lived into his eighties. That would be Uncle T on moms' side of the family. Uncle Stoney on pops' side of the family may have also reached that age. I'm not certain. Pops was a month shy of 78 years of age before he passed on. What does that all mean? Well, as I sit around and fret about extremely trivial matters, I am running down the clock. And to be perfectly honest, I really only have 20 to 25 years of time left.

What can really play tricks on the mind is one's relative health. I am seemingly in good health. And, I have remained much more physically fit than my peers. However, the effects of old age will come on very rapidly. I expect that within five years or so, I am going to experience a kind of physical deterioration that would make anyone's mind spin. The decay, I imagine, is mostly exponential. Since I haven't entered that stage yet, I have been wasting time like there's no tomorrow.

Obviously, though, there is not much that I need to do or accomplish. I am already a senior citizen. So, I have no aspirations to become rich or famous. I would like to be more financially secure, but I'm at the point where any attempt would be futile. I really can't pursue babes because I'm too old. Besides, the Vienna Sausage is atrophying. In five years, it may not even function. Seemingly, I have wasted my life away. Yet, my purpose in discussing the matter should not be mistaken for yet more lamenting at the Wailing Wall.

One would think that, after being emancipated from wage slavery, there would be ample opportunity to achieve Maslow's "self-actualization." Mind you, I am obviously having difficulties in meeting lower level "needs," but I should have at least been able to sample a morsel of "self-actualization." I did manage to spend a lot of time reading and researching topics of interest, which I found to be enjoyable. The increased knowledge, unfortunately, brought on more anxieties.

Thus, I have come to believe that Maslow was tragically wrong. His model of the "Hierarchy of Needs" is flawed. "Self-actualization" is impossible given human mortality. I am not merely speaking from my tainted point of view. How can any human possibly become "self-actualized" knowing that time is so limited? The very idea of disappearing into nothingness is disconcerting. We may attempt to achieve a higher frame of mind, but the latter would require constant distraction from the obvious or self-delusion through religion (or mind-altering drugs). Maslow himself asserted that very few people could achieve the "self-actualized" state.

Could we instead achieve a relative level of "self-actualization" within the constraints of our limitations? Why would we even bother? The more that we invest in our mortal lives, the harder it will be to part with when the time comes. Life in the grand scheme is meaningless and devoid of purpose. We can, I suppose, develop a contrived sense of meaning and purpose, both of which will only have "value" in our own eyes.

Well, I ended up at Kahala Mall at 4:30pm with blemished tablet computer in hand. I promptly ate dinner at Subway® before engaging in my usual loitering activity. Once settled, I wondered about the stupidity and confusion of the previous two hours. I am down to maybe five "good" years, but I simply cannot detach myself from issues that were more relevant when I was ten years younger. Do I really need to worry about spending some chump change in a superfluous manner? Do I need to always live prophylactically?

I have learned that long-term healthcare for decrepit senior citizens can cost upward $115,000 per year in Hawai'i. We are being urged through fear to prepare ahead of time for such a contingency. Why would anyone spend that kind of money for substandard care and possible caregiver abuse? Why would any senior citizen want to be demeaned in such a way? Imagine paying that kind of money for someone disdainful to change your adult diapers? The indignity is unfathomable. What exactly is the $115,000 being spent on? Windfall profits, you think?

I probably don't need to give much more thought to the effects of the poisonous environment or poisonous food. Twenty more years is all that I have left. If I become too decrepit before then, I will have even less time. I won't be able to afford $115,000 per year for totally degrading long-term care. By then, the cost will have at least doubled anyway.

So, what can I do to make the most of my last five "good" years? What can I do to endure my final fifteen marginal years? To put all of this into perspective, the "blog" and old journal have been in existence for a total of fifteen years. All of those posts are nearly the equivalent of the time that I have remaining. Certainly something sobering to consider.

Come to think of it, I'm now not altogether certain whether the exodus has any relevance at this point in time. Perhaps I have already disconnected as best as possible given the time constraints. Maybe I have simply run out of time.

Post No. 1,903

I had planned to drive my truck to Kahala Mall this morning in order to facilitate grocery shopping later in the afternoon. At the last minute, I changed my mind, opting for the usual urban nomad itinerary. Obviously, I had no food in the fridge to make dinner back at Slob Manor (read: rental housing). So, I rode the bus to Ala Moana Center after my workout at the gym. I purchased a Meatball Marinara sandwich at Subway®. I intended to eat only half of the sandwich, saving the other half for tomorrow. The sandwich tasted so good that I devoured the whole thing in one sitting. Yum!

The Route 23 bus was thirty minutes late, so I arrived back at the dump at 6:15pm. I wanted to spend the evening at Kahala Mall again, but I was too far behind schedule. Alas, perhaps tomorrow night would be better for an outing. So, I'll enjoy a One-Man House Party with House Music courtesy my netbook computer. Oh brother.

What's Gotten Into Us?

After completing the reading of the book, "What's Gotten Into Us?" by McKay Jenkins at the library, I was mostly numb. We are slowly being poisoned by pretty much everything around us. It would be laughable if it wasn't so pathetic. One of the worst offenders is plastics. There are many types of plastics, but not all of them are equally bad. The problem with plastics is that they are unstable. In other words, plastics become hard and brittle over time. Heat and UV radiation speeds up the breakdown. Plastics remain "plastic" only because of the addition of "plasticizers."

We tend to believe that plastics are safe because of the sheer ubiquity of its applications. Everything is made of plastic. However, plastics tend to shed some its more toxic compounds (e.g., phthalates, Bisphenol-A) during its slow but inevitable breakdown. If the plastic is in the form of a container for food or liquid, then the toxic compounds will leach into either. There are some allegedly "safe" plastics, but I remain skeptical.

I can hear some people saying, "There he goes again! There he goes again!" The problem is that we cannot personally know how much of the toxic substances are in our bodies unless we contract for "body burden" tests. The few studies that have been conducted reveal almost terrifying results. People who lived relatively healthy life-styles and resided in seemingly non-toxic areas tested high for many toxic chemicals. Often, younger people tested higher than their senior counterparts.

Let's just talk about plastics right now. I've attempted to review my exposure on a daily basis. I am constantly using something made of plastic. My morning cup of hot coffee is served in a plastic cup with a plastic lid. The food that I purchase, whether ready-made or not, is packaged in plastic containers, plastic bags, or wrapped in sheet plastic. All of my personal care products (e.g., liquid soap, shampoo, toothpaste) are in plastic bottles or tubes. My toothbrush is made of plastic. My gym bag, boardshorts, and sackpack are made of synthetic fabric (i.e., plastic fiber). I eat dinner on a plate made of melamine-based plastic. By the way, melamine currently does not have a good reputation. My two computers are made of plastic, and they may also coated with a toxic flame retardant.

And, how about my truck? When I purchased it new over five years ago, it had the typical "new" smell. Turns out, the fumes were toxic. What about now? The entire interior of the truck is made of plastic. When the truck sits outside under the hot sun, the interior becomes uncomfortably hot. Could the plastic still be emitting toxic fumes? Remember, heat breaks down plastic.

I have also come to realize that most of us are probably unwittingly poisoning ourselves when we take a shower. Pretty much all of the soaps and shampoos are made with extremely artificial ingredients. The "fragrance" most likely contains phthalates. We rub that crap over our entire body and rub it in after we have opened up all of our skin pores with hot water. The poisonous substances are then quickly absorbed by the body. And, of course, soap and shampoo are usually packaged in plastic containers.

Bioaccumulation is the biggest problem with many toxic substances. Not only do the substances remain in the body for a long period of time, the actual amount continues to grow with repeated exposure. Since we are exposed to plastics almost continuously throughout the day and we usually shower daily, we open ourselves up to a tremendous amount of toxic bioaccumulation. Imagine if the substances in question are cell disruptors or carcinogenic. That's when the real fun commences.

Our constant exposure to toxic plastics, poisonous foods, and questionable personal care products has increased our chances of chronic illnesses. I can see why there has been so little concern about the Fukushima nuclear meltdown. What difference will a few "hot particles" of radionuclides make?

Thus, I have decided to minimize my exposure to plastics. Sadly, I may have to mummify my morning coffee or find a place that serves coffee in paper cups. The melamine-based plate must go. I must also replace the liquid soap and shampoo with a all-natural equivalents. More later.

Well, I returned to Kahala Mall again for part of the evening with my dilapidated tablet computer in hand. My cup of decaffeinated coffee came in a paper cup. I am beginning to enjoy composing the "blog" when I am out and about. Sometimes I just don't want to return to the dump known as Slob Manor (read: rent housing). Sheesh!

Contagion (Reprise)

Another day, another evening. Same ol' shit. Earlier at the library, I read about half of McKay Jenkins' book, "What's Gotten Into Us? Staying Healthy in a Toxic World." Fascinating reading, actually. I've known the most of the products that we use in our daily lives are poisonous. However, I did not realize just how bad the situation has degenerated. Thanks to wonders of bioaccumulation, most of us are walking toxic waste dumps. The number of toxins, carcinogens, and various cell disruptors lurking within our bodies is sickening (no pun intended). And, many of the culprits are seemingly innocuous products such as soap, shampoo, and toothpaste.

Long story short. Jenkins wrote the book after recovering from surgery due to a tumor the size of an orange growing next to his pelvis. Originally thought to be cancer, Jenkins was fortunate to learn that the tumor was benign. Jenkins believed that he had lived a fairly life-style, so he was completely floored when first diagnosed. In retrospect, Jenkins also wondered why there were so many people, many of whom he knew personally, were diagnosed with cancer and other chronic afflictions. Some, he wondered, were way too young.

My own foray into the toxic world led me to discover that most of the food that we eat is poisonous. For example, I had to stop eating canned foods entirely because the lining of cans contains Bisphenol-A (BPA). Yet, the damage has already been done. That's why I am always complaining that I cannot find anything to eat. This evening, I consumed a small salad and three bran muffins for dinner. I was in the supermarket just yesterday, but I could not bring myself to purchase any nitrate-laced products. The bran muffins, however, probably contain high fructose corn syrup.

Although I was quite fatigued from lack of sleep (not due to Joker), I ended up at Kahala Mall this evening with my blemished tablet computer in hand. Since I always order decaffeinated coffee or hot tea to enjoy while I compose the "blog," I am increasing my daily expenditures significantly. I should not be spending money so foolishly. Yet, what else can I do? Should I not spend anything until I am a decrepit fossil? By then, I will probably be robbed blind by medical expenses due to chronic illness most likely caused by the bioaccumulation of toxins. And, I'm not sure that I can thoroughly enjoy a hot cup of tea while sitting around in a hospice facility.

Anyway, just like Jenkins, I am wondering about my own future insofar as my health is concerned. Most of my uncles on pops' side of the family, including pops, met their demise as a result of cancer. So, genetically speaking, I am a ripe oncology candidate. Not a happy prospect to say the least. And, I am already a senior citizen. My skin is turning leathery. The Vienna Sausage is atrophying. My hair is turning gray more rapidly. I am losing muscle tone. My eye sockets are hollowing out. No one questions me when I ask for the senior citizen discount. Heck, I really dread the day that I have to wear those oversized and bulky wraparound sunglasses that all of the old folks wear on their outings. Couldn't someone design a pair of sunglasses that didn't scream, "I am old and decrepit!"? Sheesh!

I Am Number Zero (Reprise)

My usual Hawai'i Kai visit was moved up because moms will be attending a religious convention commencing on Friday. Following the usual itinerary has been difficult because Safeway® is somewhat inconveniently located. And, I have to admit that I don't particularly care to shop there. Neither does moms.

When I returned to Slob Manor (read: rental housing), I was privy to listen to Joker dropping heavy objects right above my squalid room, even though the area was allegedly cordoned off by the landlord. I am somewhat amazed that Joker is spending so much time exacting his revenge. The dickhead is obviously mentally ill. Many locals are prone to irrational behavior just like Joker. The stupidity could continue for as long as I reside at Slob Manor. Doesn't the fool have anything else better to do? Apparently not.

As to be expected, I quietly departed Slob Manor at 6pm on the bus and headed to Kahala Mall with my severely damaged tablet computer. The mall was quite busy, just like yesterday. Is everyone trying to escape from Joker?

For some reason, I don't mind loitering at the mall in the evening. I've become fatigued with sitting in my squalid room. I don't really want to read the damned news anymore. Most of it is sickening anyway. I still search through the hurdy-gurdy listings for more gems to download. However, let's face the facts. Even downloading hurdy-gurdy video clips gets really old really fast, especially given that the Vienna Sausage is atrophying rapidly. Nonetheless, sitting in my squalid room all evening is the equivalent of watching paint dry or watching the tube all day and night like Joker.

The mall, as I said before, is quite lively in the evening. There are a lot of young hotties running amuck, too. Contrast that to Slob Manor, where only the sounds of the grotesque Joker stomping around or making assorted old man noises are the sum total of the whole experience inclusive. I imagine that a senior citizen rest home would suffer from a proliferation of the same noises from myriad decrepit Joker-like residents. Anyway, my feeling is that I am becoming anxious again. I may be "escaping" to the mall every evening, just as I did before.

On a side note, I still completely mesmerized by the last two episodes of "Firefly" which I viewed recently. The series has made quite an impact on me. Don't ask me why. I don't know. Ten years after the fact, though, I am perturbed that the series was mummified. I read the background information about the series and discovered that the Fux® network was responsible for its demise. So pathetic.

I'd like to say that "Firefly" has inspired me in some positive way, but I cannot be certain that it has. I just seem to have acquired the eerie sensation that something is not right with my life. I don't sense that I am missing out on anything, although I know that I most certainly am. Strange, isn't it?

Well, I decided to spend an additional hour in Barnes & Noble®. Yeah, that's how much I can't stand sitting all night in the den of losers. I composed the "blog" on my blemished tablet computer and "published" it. Thank goodness that it still functions.

Repression Revisited

Same ol' shit. However, I purchased a new pair of boardshorts at Ross® while I was in town. And, I took advantage of the senior citizen discount for the first time. As you may not know, I must always maintain three pairs of boardshorts. The boardshorts perform a calendar function, too. I wear one pair each week. So, I cycle through all three pairs of boardshorts in three weeks. Coincidentally, I restore my extreme monk haircut every three weeks as well. Thus, given the pair that I wearing on a particular week, I know when my haircut is due. Sheesh!

Back at Slob Manor (read: rental housing) this afternoon, I felt claustrophobic. Joker had gone to parts unknown, but I knew that he would return shortly. I hurriedly ate my pathetic dinner. For some reason, I felt that I had to complete a few tasks before my departure time. I had already placed everything, including the tablet computer, into my sackpack. I wanted to be long gone to Kahala Mall before Joker arrived.

Naturally, time slipped by quickly. I finally realized that I had only minutes before the bus was due to pass by. So, I grabbed my sackpack, which I had intentionally left unsealed. I had grabbed the bottom of the sackpack by mistake, though. The contents flew onto the floor. The tablet computer made a horrible sound as it made contact with the ceramic tile floor.

Although the drop was from a little more than a foot in height, there was significant damage to the bezel. I noted numerous scrapes and dents as well. The glass panel looked like sandpaper was rubbed on it. All that, even though the tablet computer was still in its padded sleeve. The sleeve looked fine, however. I quickly stuffed everything into the sackpack. As I walked out the door, I was privy to see Joker face-to-face as he had just returned to the dump. Perhaps the God of the Yahweh Triad (i.e., Judaism, Pauline-Christianity, and Islam) does exist after. Perhaps the deity is attempting to teach me humility.

My nerves were shot by the time I set foot in the mall. I spent a couple of hours at my favorite bookstore. I sipped on decaffeinated coffee and composed the "blog" on my severely defaced tablet computer. The digitizer appeared to be operational, so I was slightly relieved. Of course, the advantage of owning a physically damaged tablet computer is that I can leave it unattended knowing that no one will steal it. Yeah, another day, another dollar ... short.

So, I've been thinking about my vast hurdy-gurdy video library (HGVL) with respect to the "inner animal." After all, the "inner animal" is what drives guys to constantly seek out da wild thing with babes. Unfortunately, the failed "civilization" paradigm imposed numerous rules, institutions, rituals, arbitrary gender roles, and beliefs upon what is simply a biological function. The added complications and obfuscations have created a nightmarish labyrinth that ultimately resulted in dichotomous classes of losers and winners. The synthesis of gender as commodity further increased the confusion. The point is that repression was instigated over eons by the great thinkers and religious fanatics alike in order to bring order to the mating process. Order is something very dear to the ruling class, by the way.

As we already know, the "inner animal" cannot be contained. Eventually, it will burst forth. Or, it will find some kind of suitable replacement for desires that cannot be directly satisfied. Hence, the vast HGVL. We can pretty much determine the ancient antecedents of prehistoric mating. Clearly, there was no institution of marriage. Guys desired to do da wild thing repeatedly with as many babes as possible. Babes most likely had similar compulsions. Some level of temporary monogamy was voluntarily invoked after childbirth for obvious reasons. Paternity was not as ambiguous as it is in contemporary times.

The HGVL is clearly a manifestation of the "inner animal," one that has been carried over from ancient times. Repression and the rules of the failed "civilization" paradigm have reduced the male biological function to the ludicrous form of using one's hand to stimulate the Vienna Sausage while viewing clips from the HGVL and, thereby, achieve a near-simulation of the actual function. If anyone could actually observe the entire act as candid theater, then the sheer absurdity of the latter would be entirely too obvious. Yet, this is exactly what repression and the failed "civilization" paradigm have given us.

I shudder to imagine what would have happened if there were no such thing as the HGVL. Can you say, "anarchy and chaos"? Obviously, there would not be a major upheaval just because of the absence of the HGVL. The clever "inner animal" will, however, transfer the inner rage to other causes (less pretentious than "chokin' da chicken") in order to give the latter some validity. We can blame all of that on repression as well.

Post No. 1,898

Usual Hawa'i Kai visit. Nada to report. Oddly, I experienced hot flashes and chills all day long. I have no explanation for the symptoms. In any case, I will not be heading out to Kahala Mall for the evening. Instead, I'll be viewing another episode of "Firefly" on Hulu®.

As for the noise situation at Slob Manor (read: rental housing), the place was fairly quiet last night. The area above my squalid room was allegedly cordoned off. So, I heard no noise from directly above. Well, that abruptly changed this afternoon when I returned to the dump at 5pm. Joker was stomping around continuously in the supposedly cordoned off area, dropping heavy objects on the floor as usual. Joker is very defiant. He is also very mentally ill. Joker is supposedly in some kind of "therapy," but it obviously is not working.

I have not contacted the management at the detestable "condotel" unit yet. I will most likely dispatch an e-mail this week. I will also contact Debbie, my realtor, to ask if she may know of any rentals. I need to be ready to give my 30-day notice to the landlord at the end of the month.

Repression

Last night, I reviewed the broad spectrum of homeless scenarios that I had devised as I engaged in my usual benign activities (i.e., downloading hurdy-gurdy videos and listening to Deep House Music). Elaborate would be an understatement. However, delineating the scenarios in the "blog" would be pointless at this time. Homelessness would certainly put an end to the hurdy-gurdy video downloading. There's one benefit.

At both Slob Manor (read: rental housing) and the detestable "condotel" unit, I have unlimited Net access. Yet, I have no real use for Net access beyond hurdy-gurdy video downloading. I simply skim the so-called "news" sources. I only have four more episodes of "Firefly" to view on Hulu®. For what I need to do (e.g., e-mail, the "blog"), I can accomplish at any free "hotspot" just as I did the other night using my tablet computer. I pay for housing in order to have a comfortable place to sleep. At Slob Manor, Joker has negated my only purpose for paid housing. I could probably sleep better in my truck. The last statement is exactly the reason why the issue of homelessness keeps popping up.

Speaking of the so-called "news," I have noticed that there have been quite a few articles about the increasing police state and the militarization of civilian police forces within empire. Well, this is the United Fascist States of Empire (UFSE). Could we have expected anything else? Let's face it, though. The rules of the failed "civilization" paradigm have been formulated over eons by layer upon layer of great thinkers and religious fanatics. The rules are an attempt to suppress the "inner animal." Nothing more, nothing less. Without the rules in place and enforced, there would be anarchy and chaos. That's the prevailing thought. Yet, whose anarchy? Whose chaos? The repressed "inner animal" keeps wanting to burst forth. Yeah, it's getting bad, if we use the rules of the failed "civilization" paradigm as judging criteria.

The rules of the failed "civilization" paradigm also happen to keep the moneychangers and powers-that-be in ruling positions. The rise of the "inner animal" amongst the rank-and-file peons is a dangerous sign. Hence, repression must be sustained with even greater use of force. The deliberate allowance of permissiveness in order to bolster consumer capitalism has finally wielded its ugly contradictory head. And, it's going to get worse.

Another urban nomad kind-of-a-Sunday. I am gone from Slob Manor from 8am until 3:30pm every Sunday, but the only accomplishment is my usual workout at the gym. It's hard to believe that I am simply meandering about for the rest of the time. Of course, I have enjoyed extended perusals of the hottie gym trainer for several weeks now. Not that it matters.

Once back at Slob Manor, I ate a quick dinner. Then, I was on my way to Kahala Mall. Just as I was leaving, I ran into the landlord. I was told that the section of Joker's lair above my squalid room would be cordoned off this evening in order to finally end the ridiculous noise problem. The landlord said that Joker was agreeable with the plan. I was somewhat relieved.

The mall experience was an exact repeat of the other night. I brought my beloved tablet computer with me in order to compose the "blog." My reliance on computing devices borders on the absurd. However, unlike the myriad people in my proximity with notebooks computers, I had the advantage of a total portable experience. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!

Calling My Bluff

I spent most of the day in a comatose state. I did nothing at the library, although I completed my workout at the gym and the absurd urban nomad itinerary. Well, I take that back. I continually pondered my situation at Slob Manor (read: rental housing) relative to the moronic Joker. I decided that I have only two options. I can either seek temporary asylum at the detestable "condotel" unit for a month, or I could plunge directly into homelessness. In either case, I tentatively decided to inform the Slob Manor landlord that I would be vacating the premises on August 31st. I also ran through broad scenarios of both options and their subsequent paths. Details are not necessary, at least until one of the options is invoked.

When I arrived back at Slob Manor, I noticed the landlord's vehicle parked in the driveway. I opted to speak with the landlord immediately. I informed the landlord that I was looking into the option of moving back to the "condotel" unit as soon as possible. I offered to give my 30-notice within a reasonable time frame. The landlord obviously did not like my plan and offered to discuss the problem with Joker. The landlord also outlined some possible steps to alleviate the problem. "If you move out, there's no way that I can rent the room to anyone with what's going on now," the landlord said. So, I agreed to wait for an undisclosed period. Nonetheless, I will contact the "condotel" management as well as the Homeless Hotline. The landlord also mentioned that Joker was late with his rent payment because of some kind of financial snafu. Is Joker living month-to-month on his disability benefits checks alone? Did be blow his entire settlement? Or, is it structured?

As fatigued as I was, I had planned to make the trek to Kahala Mall on the bus again this evening. However, a sudden rain shower at 6pm sealed the decision for me. Although the heavy rain subsided within a few minutes, I did not want to end up an unwitting victim of any further rain showers. So, I'll be in my squalid room all evening, listening to Joker's noisemaking and downloading hurdy-gurdy videos.

Why do I keep toying with the idea of homelessness? Will it really emancipate me completely from slavery? Is homelessness the real meaning of the exodus? As to be expected, I have no answers. I simply know that I cannot go on much longer. I cannot maintain the status quo. I can't spend countless hours of my very limited remaining time engaged in hurdy-gurdy video downloading. I can't be wasting any more time on a pathetic loser like Joker. I can't continue to look to the failed "civilization" paradigm for answers. Only the "inner animal" holds the clue. What the heck is the "inner animal' saying?

First Deployment

Usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Nada to report. I enjoyed the day in Hawai'i Kai. However, when I returned to Slob Manor (read: rental housing), I was privy to non-stop noise courtesy Joker. He knew that I was in my squalid room, so he went out of his way to make as much noise as possible. The foolish clown really has a death wish, eh?

I was so significantly perturbed that I decided to forgo an exciting evening of downloading great hurdy-gurdy video clips and rode the bus to Kahala Mall at 7:30pm. Fortunately, I had stopped off earlier at Ross® in the Hawai'i Kai Towne Center and purchased a small sackpack for $5 and some change. I also had to stop off at Safeway® in Kuapa Kai to acquire groceries that were no longer available at the nearly-barren Foodland in Koko Marina.

Of course, I ended up at Barnes & Noble®. And, fortunately, I brought my tablet computer with me in my new sackpack. I purchased a small cup of decaffeinated coffee. Then, I sat and composed the "blog" right there. Yes, the tablet computer was deployed in the field for the first time. And, I must say that it performed wonderfully. Since the tablet computer looks more like a toy, no one even noticed it. There were a lot of people with notebook computers, all sitting anywhere close to an AC wall outlet. Not a problem with the tablet computer since it has an extremely long battery life.

The mall was extremely crowded this evening. For some reason, the mall seems to be more exciting at night. Everything seemed so vibrant. People didn't look so grotesque. Even I, a poor loser, was caught up in all of the excitement. As you may recall, I used to shuttle myself to the mall every night a few years ago. I also shuttled myself to the mall every night when I used to reside in the detestable "condotel" unit. After a while, I became fatigued of the routine. I yearned for a quiet evening at "home."

That's always been the folly of my error. I have no home. I am homeless, figuratively and literally. Right now, I reside in the equivalent of a sleazy boarding house. A ghetto dormitory for losers. A sickening thought, eh?

Well, I am at least happy to know that the tablet computer has performed well in its debut. I am going to "publish" the post right from the mall. Then, I will loiter around for a little while before riding the bus back to the dump. I was able to enjoy a reprieve from slimy losers like Joker. I experienced a moment of contentment, albeit extremely brief. Perhaps I will continue my nightly outings. What other options do I have?

Cruel Joke (Continued)

More games at Slob Manor (read: rental housing). For some reason, I woke up at 3:30am this morning. A few minutes later, Joker was dropping heavy objects on the floor above my squalid room as well as playing "fetch" with his two rodent-like dogs. Then, an hour later, he went to sleep.

Joker, Formerly Known as "Meathead"

Joker apparently feels comfortable taking his revenge for the complaint that I forwarded to the landlord. Thus, I am now certain that he has been making as much noise as possible when he knows that I am in my squalid room. If it wasn't against the law, I would "terminate with extreme prejudice." I am also certain that the landlord will not do anything about Joker. Violence is probably the only language that the fucktard can understand anyway.

Joker has nothing to do all day except play with his rodent-like dogs and possibly perform unnatural acts with them as well. He has a lot of money because of some kind of insurance fraud that he perpetrated. So, he has a lot of time to develop devious methods to get even with anyone who crosses his path. The landlord already knows the deviant side of Joker because I was told about a few incidents concerning the fool. However, the landlord is fearful of Joker. So, who is the real landlord at Slob Manor?

Joker, however, is the perfect human being. Born terribly ugly and hideous, he is apparently too ignorant to realize that he is the butt of a very cruel joke. His brain has not matured enough for him to understand his mortality. Nor has he developed any kind of awareness or consciousness. He is locked in a very small world of entitlement by fraud and self-aggrandisement. He probably has not really even matched the level of intelligence of his rodent-like dogs. When the end comes, Joker won't even know what happened. That's why the moron is the perfect human being. He is unaware of the cruel joke being played upon him. His extremely simple mind has attained a degenerated form of contentment.

Cruel Joke

Usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Nada to report. In fact, I'm beginning to believe that having nothing to report in the "blog" is the best news. After all, no news is good news, as the old adage goes.

I happened to chat with a couple of Foodland employees. I've been chatting with quite a few of them since the closing of the Koko Marina store was made official. The employees are being relocated to various other locations. The inventory has already been significantly depleted. I expect that moms and I will be privy to see a fairly empty store on Friday. I am still amazed that moms has been shopping at that store for 45 years.

Well, I will be honest. Everything around me has become entirely trivial to me. Not much matters. My pathetic financial situation matter a little bit, but there's nothing that I can do. I am being robbed blind by the same moneychangers and powers-that-be who are robbing all of you blind as well. I am only sickened by the fact that a select few humans can cause so much pain and suffering for the masses of rank-and-file peons when we all share the same sad fate. Yes, mortality wields its ugly head yet again.

Even if life were to run much more smoothly for us (an impossibility, no doubt), there is no way to attain contentment. Pure contentment is unattainable. It is a fictional concept just like immortality. Why do humans conjure up words that make no sense? Since my emancipation from wage slavery, I have been fixated on my mortality. I have been able to conceptualize my limited time. Thus, I moved in a radically opposite direction from the elusive state of contentment.

I don't believe that family, friends, wage slavery, a "smartphone," or any other entity, institution, or diversion would have brought me closer to contentment, peace of mind, "self-actualization," or whatever else we want to call it. There is no such dimension. We can attain a state of delusion through diversionary methods, but the result is only temporary. By the same token, there is no meaning or purpose to life aside from the knowledge of the absolute truths (refer to the "blog" of July 28th of last year).

Many people are not prepared to leave the shell of their bodies because they have so much invested in their mortal human existence. They believe that they have too much at stake to lose. Even I, who has divested everything, am not prepared to leave the shell of my body to enter the netherworld of nothingness. Material accumulation or social aggregation makes no difference in how we approach end-of-life. The true value of life is being alive, at least for sentient and conscious beings. It's really pointless to argue whether we are conscious "souls" or just synaptic biological programming. The fact is: we are conscious and we know it. We also know that there is a fragile boundary to life. We could cross that boundary at any time into nothingness, but the scarier aspect is that we will all cross that boundary in the end.

Some people may argue with me that we humans can definitely achieve true contentment. What the mental midgets do not realize is that the contented state is only temporary. What is here one day may gone the next. Any kind of fragmentation is not reassuring. Thus, I can only come to the conclusion that we humans are a tortured species. We have an imagination that can usurp reality. We can conjure up states that do not exist. We can come to value our fragile lives to the point in which we believe that we are far more important in the general scheme than is true. We become mature and increase our "consciousness." Yet, it all gets taken away. The power of our minds is a cruel joke. And, the joke is on us.

So, here I am am, essentially no family, no friends, few acquaintances, very few material possessions, no financial resources, and living in a hovel with pathetic losers. I am only a step away from becoming a total loser with no return and no recourse. I have moved myself to the bottom of the totem pole. Yet, I have become more aware, more "conscious." And, I view my own pathetic life as being quite valuable to me. Yeah, it's a cruel joke indeed.

Illin' Cycles

Last night, I was the sole person in the whole of Slob Manor (read: rental housing), at least until 10:30pm. I was able to view the latest released episode of "Firefly" on Hulu® in relative peace. The episode was extremely good. Why, oh, why was the series mummified?

Another sleepless night. I recollected all of the illin' symptoms: hot flashes, chills, night sweats, thirst, fatigue, minor aches and pains all over, loss of appetite, lots of gas (i.e., methane), and muscle cramps. Sounds like the flu, eh? The boil next to my spine has also returned, although possibly unrelated. Fortunately, I still had a bottle of cold and flu elixir lying around. I dropped back half of a regular dosage before departing Slob Manor (read: rental housing) this morning. I nearly fell asleep on the bus. And, I was completely groggy for the rest of the day. Somehow, though, I completed the entire urban nomad circuit.

I was still groggy by early evening. I perused the "blog" and noted that I seem to follow a strict six-month illin' cycle. That's right, I either come down with the flu or the common cold every six months. Whassup wi' dat? So, I will be relaxing for the evening. Then, I will drop back another half-dosage of cold and flu elixir before calling it a night.

Slave Day 2011

A very uneventful Slave Day non-celebration for the ol' lavahead. Drove to Kahala Mall in my truck. Used restroom facilities and pilfered a one-day emergency supply of asswipe paper. Barely enjoyed coffee time in the Barnes & Noble® Café. Perused same moldy computer magazines. Rode empty bus to town, which was the most enjoyable part of the whole day. Worked out at the gym. Rode extremely crowded bus back to Kahala Mall. Bus was full of hideous and obese "brown people." Moronic clown splashes water on the ol' lavahead after washing his hands in mall restroom. Loitered in mall until 3:30pm. Drove to Aina Haina Shopping Center to shop at Foodland. Returned to Slob Manor (read: rental housing).

Typical "Independence" Hottie I became extremely nauseous sometime around midday after I observed countless people spending unlimited amounts of money on whatever satisfied their whims. I can't even bring myself to spend $5 on a Subway® sandwich. After all, the detestable "condotel" unit is draining my resources. The gross revenue is now below $200 per month, while my mortgage and maintenance fee has increased to over $1,300 and some change. The hotel is renting the rooms for about $15 per night amidst severe downward pressure. In the last newsletter, Aqua management has stated that it intends to rent the rooms for free for several months (i.e., tourist promotion) just to maintain the occupancy ratio. That's right, there will be zero revenue. Unfortunately, the cost of operations are not free, so the "owners" will be billed up to $500 per month. I'll soon be paying close to $2,000 per month just to keep from defaulting on my mortgage. That's more than Alan pays for a five-bedroom "McMansion" in Arizona.

I am really surprised that I have actually maintained the "blog" on a daily basis all the way up to Slave Day. I thought that I would have surely reduced the posts by now. I suppose that I am a slave to the "blog," just as I am a slave to my massive hurdy-gurdy video library (HGVL). They seem to go hand-in-hand, complementing each other. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaa!

Holiday Hell (Continued)

I ran into my homeless buddy at Ala Moana Center this morning. I was sipping my morning coffee in the Makai Market at the time. Well, shocking as it may be, my homeless buddy is not homeless. In fact, he was apparently renting a "studio" in Palolo, paying $700 in monthly rent. I'm not certain if his application of the term, "studio," actually means something similar to an apartment. He may have been living in a large truck or van on the landlord's property. His new place in Mano'a is actually a room in a building (i.e., not a vehicle). He pays no rent, which is why he moved there. He also showed me a netbook computer that he purchased for $100 at a local swap meet. He got a pretty good deal. So, now he has four computers.

I followed my usual urban nomad kind-of-a-Sunday routine. Same ol' shit. To add excitement to the mundane return journey, I have ridden the bus all the way out to the Hawai'i Kai Park 'n Ride for the last two days instead of alighting near Slob Manor (read: rental housing). I sit in the Park 'n Ride shelter area for about 20 minutes or so before the next bus arrives. Then, I finally backtrack to the detestable dump. Wheee!

There were a few topics that I specifically wanted to address in the "blog." However, if memory serves me correctly, I have covered the same topics repeatedly. My opinions have not changed, so there no need to go any further. Yeah, it's already interspersed with the myriad excess verbiage in the archives.

My tablet computer remains deprecated. There have been no new software updates. Even the promised features are long overdue. The last update introduced a few quirks that did not sit well with me. I had found an alternative to the problematic power button, but that no longer works. So, I will only put the table computer back into service when I can leave the unit in standby mode without powering down. Essentially, the device will be active continuously. Unfortunately, I have no need to use the device even once per week. Truly pathetic.

Holiday Hell

Yesterday, I had filled $15 worth of petrol in my truck specifically to insure that I could drive to either Ala Moana Center or Kahala Mall. This morning, I just couldn't bring myself to dive anywhere. So, I followed my alternative itinerary via the bus. Ala Moana. Barnes & Noble®. Gym. Ala Moana again. Can it get any more exciting? No, not really.

Back at the Slob Manor (read: rental housing), I decided to wash my truck in the blazing hot sun. I performed a really half-ass job. I just can't bring myself to serving my possessions like a slave anymore. I only had a burst of energy because I treated myself to a pint of ice cream while I was at Ala Moana Center in the afternoon. Otherwise, the truck would never have gotten washed.

Well, I am extremely fatigued. I did not sleep well last night. I was up every hour to "drain the lizard." I was also extremely thirsty. Diabetes, you think? I wouldn't doubt it, what with all the high fructose corn syrup in everything that we eat. Yeah, I am really sick and tired of the poisonous food that we are privy to consume. Isn't there any real food?

Holiday weekends are a literal hell for losers. There's just absolutely nothing to do. I thought about riding the bus for hours to nowhere as an option. Can you even imagine such foolery? I could, of course, ride the bus around the island as I did a few years ago. Yeah, nothing like spending hours on a crowded bus with grubby "brown people." Well, at least I'll be back to the usual Sunday routine tomorrow. As for Monday, another tortuous day of piddling, I suppose.

Questions with Obvious Answers

Usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Nada to report. Another holiday weekend is upon us. The library will be closed for three days, so I have no safe haven available. I will be left to my own devices. I will have to fend for myself. Yes, all the shopping malls will be open. Which mall shall I loiter about? Decisions, decisions.

I have been experiencing headaches daily along with abdominal pains. I have also been feeling anxious concurrent with several panic attacks. One might say that the fabric of my self is coming apart at the seams. "Stuff" is piling up. I am completing any and all detestable paperwork in just-in-time fashion. I'm checking my mail maybe once per month. I haven't powered up my cell phone in over a year. Had I not made the miserable mistake of "keeping one foot in the door" of the so-called "American Dream," then I would have been done with the crap a long time ago.

Had I been more successfully entrenched in the "mainstream," the I would have embraced all of the slave shackles that accompany that success. Instead, I have nothing. No babes. No money. A five-year-old truck. A detestable "condotel" unit with an upside-down mortgage that can't even pay for itself. A cheap netbook computer. A deprecated tablet computer. A massive hurdy-gurdy video library (HGVL). Could this really be a bad dream? Or, am I living the nightmare?

As usual, I will be sitting in my squalid room in Slob Manor (read: rental housing) for the whole evening. My cheap netbook is always at the focal point of my activities, the main one being the downloading of hurdy-gurdy video clips. Often, I wonder whether I engage in my many malignant tasks because I want to insure that I live up to the pathetic personification that I have conjured in the "blog." Or, am I really just that pathetic?