New Year's Eve 2012

Surfboard donated to charity, for a $475 "haircut." The divestiture, however, will be not be officially recognized until next year in order to reduce the shock on my net worth. Otherwise, usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Nothing to report.

Well, I am down to only two pre-emancipation assets worthy of divestiture: my truck and the detestable "condotel" unit. All of my extravagant purchases were made in the heyday of wage slavery. That's when I was a stooge of the "ownership" society. Now I am a stooge of asceticism. I derive very little pleasure from material possessions, so little that I can safely say that I experience more pain than pleasure.

I am ending the year with even less possessions than most homeless people. What an accomplishment! I can now become homeless at any time without having to rent a storage unit. I have almost complete mobility. I will be honest, though. I plan to divest more useless crap. The lighter the load, the better off I am.

On a side note, I have discovered a couple of places that allow me to purchase bus passes with a credit card. I will also be changing my gym membership billing to a credit card. I will then be able to increase my credit card cash rewards.

I decided to stay in for the evening. Believe me, there's nothing more depressing than sitting in my squalid room at Slob Manor (read: rental housing) for any duration longer than an hour. However, there is nothing to do tonight at the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala. Only a few losers will be loitering around. Yeah, another exciting New Year's Eve for the ol' lavahead.

Conveyor Belt of Foolishness

Late start this morning. So, coffee time was held at the coffee shop right around the corner from the gym in town. Otherwise, same ol' Sunday shit.

As usual, I have been pondering my mortality, observing senior citizens, maneuvering my way around asswipes, you know the drill. With the end of the year coming up, I am also calculating my net worth. The latter is important in determining some kind of financial strategy (term used loosely).

I now have second thoughts about the purchase of the "nine" (i.e., 9mm semi-automatic pistol). A gun is only required to protect property or possessions. With so little property or possessions to protect, I don't need a gun. And, a gun as personal protection is useless. What if I were to purchase gold bars? A gun would still be unnecessary. The amount in gold bars that I could afford (i.e., about 50 ounces) would fit in a plastic soap dish. Sheesh!

Have you noticed that our entire lives can be considered one long conveyor belt of shopping? Every activity is some form of shopping. We don't explore. We don't discover. We don't learn. We don't even experience anything unless it has somehow been purchased. A few people can fool themselves into believing that they have "actualized" lives. They ignore the conveyor belt that is moving them along. Unfortunately, the empty sensation cannot be ignored. In the old days, I would have cried out, "Get out of Babylon!" Perhaps the admonition is still valid.

Disgusting Yogurt

Everything went downhill after I discovered last night that I purchased a large quantity of the wrong flavor of yogurt. Yes, vanilla-flavored yogurt is disgusting. I was apparently more concerned with the expiry date rather than the flavor. Nothing has gone right since then. Thus, I have been in a "pissy" mood.

With that in mind, I have issued a stay on all pending decisions, including divestitures and acquisitions, in order to reduce the effect on the net worth summary for the current year. My net worth has already been significantly reduced. I certainly don't need any kind of trigger to push me over the edge of sanity. Not now, at least. I am already close to erupting in a homicidal rampage. Sheesh!

Tom Foolery (Continued)

Usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Nothing to report. When I returned to Slob Manor (read: rental housing), I noticed that the landlord's truck was parked in the driveway. All was quiet, although I knew that Tom was upstairs. Tom's derelict alcoholic buddy was nowhere in sight. Odd, considering that the fucktard was staying with Tom for the last three days, with both of them sloppy-ass drunk day and night. Obviously, Tom knew that he was breaking the house rules. Then, when the landlord appears, he cleans up his act. A guy in his fifties acting like a mischievous child. Of course, alcohol abuse reinforces criminal behavior. With adult delinquents like Tom, it's easy to understand why the empire is now a police state.

I could easily expedite Tom's demise by simply offering him a cocktail made with 151-proof rum and four finely crushed acetaminophen tablets mixed in. A couple of those cocktails would most likely send Tom to the hospital emergency room within a week, given his steady diet of alcohol. There would be no reason to use the "nine" (9mm pistol). Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!

Enough of Tom already. He may or may not end up a non-walking cadaver. I'm not saying. I could not locate a consignment store nearby, so I will be donating the surfboard to charity as early as next week. The main reason for the divestiture is that bulky possessions only serve to limit mobility. I have also issued a stay on my decision to purchase the "nine" (i.e., 9mm semi-automatic pistol) until the homeless issue is resolved. Ditto for the purchase of gold bars. I will, however, conduct inquiries in the interim. All findings will be reported.

As another year draws to a close, I will reiterate that the moratorium on purchases is still in effect. Only necessities are exempt but subject to "just in time" (JIT) criteria. I made a huge mistake by buying into the "ownership society." Get it? Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!

Tom Foolery

Back at Slob Manor (read: rental housing) ... Tom is killing himself, but he's just not dying fast enough. I'd like to help him out. If there were only some way that I could force ... err, I mean, invite him to consume about two liters of pure grain alcohol in one sitting. Tom is a weakling, and I want to put him out of his misery. My intentions are purely altruistic. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!

Well, times are getting tougher. Let's see now. I may have to purchase gold bars. I will definitely need to purchase a supply of batteries for the electronic restraining device (ERD) (i.e., handheld stun device). Now, the need for a 9mm semi-automatic pistol (i.e., the "nine") comes up again. I mean, how else can I persuade Tom to consume two liters of pure grain alcohol?

Not much to report. Coffee time has not been mummified. No change in the daily itinerary. I will, however, be looking for a place to sell the surfboard on consignment. I will also be initiating my candidacy for the Next Step homeless shelter without the assistance of my homeless buddy in order to minimize falsification.

Beautiful full moon out tonight. I am always inspired to ponder the nature of the universe. Subsequently, I become sickened by the rampant human stupidity on our small planet. Paradoxically, only a minority of people truly understand that we've lost our way. Ernest Becker was one of them. The rest? They are all clones of Tom.

Post-Saturnalia 2012

Minutes after Alan departed Slob Manor (read: rental housing) last night, the drunkard Tom snapped into action. He was staggering around upstairs in a drunken stupor. He knocked over a heavy piece of furniture. He also knocked over his dishes onto the floor. All the while, he kept dropping booze bottles on the floor. I really wish that he would just end it quickly. I would enjoy returning to the dump and discovering his cold, stiff cadaver lying on the floor. Or, I would equally enjoy seeing him writhing in pain because of liver failure. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!

I chatted with my homeless buddy at the public library this morning. I don't know. For some reason, I really didn't want to listen to any homeless shelter stories about the on-going thievery, drug dealing, and general sloth. However, I did not let my feelings betray me. I listened intently. After all, I will need my homeless buddy's assistance if I choose to become homeless myself.

I ran into Pseudo-professor Lee at the hair design institute. Yes, I restored my extreme monk haircut. Lee is no longer a faculty member at everyone's favorite diploma mill. He is a strange guy, though. I forgot that he doesn't like to shake hands with anyone. Lee is looking really old, like a walking cadaver.

I also ran into Kevin, the burly homeless guy, just as I was exiting the gym this afternoon. He was inebriated. I should introduce him to Tom. They could become best buddies. As usual, I stopped by the sandwich shop to purchase my dinner. The credit card processor was inoperative. Customers were being turned away. However, the workers know me because I am in there three times per week. So, I procured my sandwich and will pay for it on Saturday.

For most of the day, I was preoccupied with senior citizen issues. After all, I am constantly in proximity with myriad "oldsters," from coffee time at the fast food joint onward. They are everywhere. Then, I had to see pasty ol' Lee. I really don't think that I could fathom the idea of becoming a walking cadaver.

I wanted to remain in my squalid room at Slob Manor this evening, but Tom literally came to life at about six o'clock. He was apparently sleeping all afternoon. One of Tom's drunkard buddies came by and woke him up. Tom's entire life consists of sleeping, watching the tube, and getting sloppy-ass drunk on cheap booze. So, I decided to make a dash for the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala, even though I knew that the Post-Saturnalia shopping mania would be in full swing. Same ol' shit.

Saturnalia 2012

When I returned to Slob Manor (read: rental housing) last night, I was privy to three hours of crashing and banging noises in the kitchen courtesy Alan. He was preparing another feist for his fellow wage slaves. When Alan returned this morning, he commenced the preparation for another feist. So, more crashing and banging in the kitchen even before sunrise. I try to forgive Alan because he is a natural born idiot. His only family is his fellow wage slaves. He wants respect. He wants recognition. He wants attention. He wants to be beloved. He is a fool. And, as we all know, there's no fool like an old fool.

After Alan's culinary creation set off the smoke alarm three times, I had enough. I departed for the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala at little earlier than expected. Extended coffee time with all of the other senior citizens occurred at the usual fast food joint. Then, I loitered around the mall for over six hours. Lunch (i.e., cheap, greasy burgers) was courtesy the same fast food joint.

When I returned to Slob Manor, all was quiet for about five minutes. Then, Alan appeared out of nowhere and commenced crashing and banging things in the kitchen. Suspicious? Yeah, considering that the other culinary artist has gone to visit his parents on Kau'ai for a few days. Needless to say, there's never any quiet moments at the dump because of one or more of the three stooges.

Since I essentially spent all day at the den of consumerism in Kahala, I decided to not return there this evening. Only the theaters would be open anyway. I chatted briefly with Alan and casually mentioned that I am attempting to gain admittance to a homeless shelter. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!

As a reminder, I can no longer format the "blog," insert pictures, or include hyperlinks. So, I now use generic descriptors throughout. For specifics, refer to "blog" posts prior to the divestiture of the netbook.

Eve of Saturnalia 2012

Usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Moms and I had to contend with the sheer number of zombie Saturnalia shoppers walking around in a daze. Otherwise, nothing to report.

I had to perform my usual workout at the gym early this morning, by the way, because of the shortened hours of operation. Thus, I had time to wash my truck this afternoon. I ended up at the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala later. With only two hours left before closing, the place was packed with people. I composed the "blog" at the bookstore in order to maintain what is now pretty much tradition.

Spending the evening at Slob Manor (read: rental housing) is certainly a sickening proposition. However, I had no choice. If I were a true believer of Saturnalia, I would probably end it all. Who could honestly spend a special occasion alone in such a dismal dump? Fortunately, Saturnalia means nothing to me. I receive no gifts. I give no gifts. No one calls. I don't call anyone. Heck, I don't even have a phone. No e-mail greetings either. It is as if I don't really exist.

I have been pondering homelessness daily. I could really see myself as being part of the homeless family. Sleeping in a dungy cubicle in a homeless shelter. Standing in food lines. Watching pirated flicks with my homeless buddy and his cohorts. In comparison, Slob Manor is more like a mortuary. Happy Saturnalia!

Mayan Molech

I continue to remain detached from world affairs, but I am vigilant nonetheless. We already know that a global nuclear confrontation could happen at any time. The "tipping point" is close. Global climate change is supposedly approaching the "tipping point" in forty years. However, climate models have been too conservative. Twenty years is more likely.

Then, there's the global financial crisis. The "tipping point" could happen any time now. Two possible scenarios have been suggested: collapse of the bond market and currency collapse. All of the relevant global central banks have been monetizing their respective sovereign debts through the policy of "quantitative easing" and zero percent interest rates. The empire's central bank alone has added over $17 trillion in questionable debt instruments (mostly bonds) onto its balance sheet. It will be adding on an additional $1 trillion every year forever. There is apparently no exit strategy.

All relevant global central banks are also debasing their respective currencies in order to achieve a currency exchange advantage. The idea is to debase the value of the currency with respect to other currencies in order to boost exports. The debased value of all global currencies is so dangerously low that hyperinflation is now a real risk.

Even a controlled correction by the central banks will induce another economic depression. However, the longer such corrections are postponed, the worst the outcome will be. I would assume that, if the markets were not heavily manipulated, interest rates would surge up to thirty percent or more. There would be a lot of bankruptcies. Sovereign nations would default on all debt. Lots of pain and suffering would ensue.

The endless theatrics in empire about the "fiscal cliff" is pure nonsense. The "austerity" measures will do nothing to offset government debt. Only the poor and destitute will suffer. That seems to be the sole purpose of the fruitless exercise.

If I were younger, then I would probably give little thought to the situation. However, I am a senior citizen with only a handful of good years remaining. I won't be resilient enough to survive a tragic ordeal. If social order were to break down, I would perish. Gold bars will not spare me.

Speaking of gold, there are rumors that China may make announcement in the near future that its currency will be partially backed by gold. China has been mining, purchasing, and stockpiling gold like there's no tomorrow. Currency wars can lead to hot wars, by the way. For the love of Molech, why are humans so stupid?

After the End of the World

I am rethinking coffee time in the morning. I have grown very weary of standing in line, being disappointed when I don't receive the senior citizen discount (even though I do not qualify), and having to observe myriad senior citizens in varying states of decrepitude. In other words, the enjoyment is rapidly diminishing. So, I am considering the elimination of coffee time except for Sunday.

In place of coffee, I am considering tea, Earl Grey to be exact. I will make it myself in the morning and take it along on my daily bus commute to town. Obviously, I will have to invest in a suitable stainless steel travel cup. More expenses, but less costly in the long run. Seriously, I have no choice since the world did not end yesterday.

No outing to the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala this evening. Everyone at Slob Manor (read: rental housing) was gone. Well, Tom was upstairs, but he appeared to be behaving himself. So, I decided to take advantage of the relative peace and quiet. Had the world ended yesterday, I would not have to deal with the nonsense at the dump anymore.

Anyway, I am back to the same ol' shit. I mummified more useless paperwork. The homeless strategic plan will have to be revisited. The purchase of gold bars is still a consideration. We will just have to wait for the next turnover of the Mayan calendar in a few thousand years. Sheesh!

3 Kankin 4 Ahau

(13.0.0.0.0) Extra! Extra! Read all about it! The world has come to an end! Really? No, not really. The Mayans were wrong. Well, actually the Mayans never predicted the end of the world. Rather, they predicted the resetting of their calendar. Doh! Usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Nothing to report.

Post No. 2,426

I ran into Kevin, the burly homeless guy, on the bus this morning. He just had breakfast at a local church charity. I had just picked up my mail, specifically the insurance documents for the detestable "condotel" unit. We were both heading to the public library. Along the way, Kevin pointed out the building (with the statue of King Kamehameha in front) that he has been using as a shelter at night. It is the same building that is featured as the headquarters of a fictional local police task force on a popular tube series. Mark also happens to work in that same building.

A couple of days ago, our most famous Senator of empire, Dan Inouye, passed on. The event, of course, confirmed my suspicions about why Neil Abercrombie resigned from Congress to run for and win the office of governor of Hawai'i in the last election. With Inouye's passing, the governor will appoint a successor. The game is to keep Hawai'i firmly in the hands of the Democrats. Obviously, politics in Hawai'i is corrupt. No real news there.

Everything is still "up in the air" here. Absolutely no progress is being made. No confirmed decisions. We all know the drill already. Sheesh!

Random Fodder

At the public library, I perused the book, "At Liberty to Die: The Battle for Death With Dignity in America," by Howard Ball. Might I suggest reading the first three chapters at the least. I will probably discuss a few relevant topics in the near future.

The other day, I read an interesting article by Guy McPherson titled, "Playing Court Jester." McPherson speaks candidly about the problems confronting humanity, but he often experiences opposition even from people in the same camp. While it's true that industrial civilization must end in order for the planet to survive, there is also a dark side to the prescription. If industrial civilization were to collapse, humans would immediately face the "Great Die-Off." There would be no way to support a population of over seven billion people in "grassroots" fashion.

Very little else to discuss. I have been preoccupied with my exit strategy from society. I am also pondering my options about what I will do when moms passes on. The future is here. Actually, the future for me had arrived a while back, but I kept myself cloaked in denial.

Homeless Fodder (Again)

I ran into my homeless buddy this morning at the public library. He has purchased two new computers, a notebook and a desktop model. He donated four computers to avoid children's charity in Palolo. The desktop computer stays at the Next Step homeless shelter. At night, he offers viewings of the latest pirated flicks in his cubicle to some of the other homeless residents. Apparently, the widescreen LCD monitor is fairly large.

My homeless buddy also mentioned a studio rental available near downtown for $450 per month. He is going to retrieve an application for me. I don't know. Perhaps I really belong in the Next Step homeless shelter with my fellow losers. There are apparently several openings because a number of people were evicted.

Earl Grey Tea Fodder

Usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Moms was not feeling well at all. Vertigo, nausea, not good. So, our Monday shopping excursions has been postponed until Friday. When moms is not feeling well, moms looks really old. Very disconcerting. Otherwise, nothing to report.

I was in a bad way when I arrived back at Slob Manor (read: rental housing). Tom's ex-wife dropped off the sixteen-year-old daughter off this morning. There's been non-stop noise upstairs. Lots of thuds as well as furniture being dragged around. I have no idea about what Tom and his daughter are doing, but the shit goes on continously until they go to sleep. I departed for the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala two hours earlier than usual. Otherwise, there was a good chance that some kind of homicidal rampage would erupt.

I loitered around the mall for over two hours. I finally ended up at the bookstore at the usual time. I treated myself to a cup of Earl Grey tea (the choice of Captain Picard from Star Trek: TNG) and a big-ass chocolate chip cookie. I felt better.

Moms' illness this morning has once again brought up the uncomfortable matter of mortality. More so, I am keenly aware that anything could happen at any time. And, I am still totally unprepared. I am still enslaved to the "system."

On a side note, I sent the information about the property insurance to the condominium association. In the guise of updating my personal information, I also declared that I was homeless. Then, I responded to the shady insurance agent and informed him about the property insurance and my homeless status. I have not heard from either entity since then. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!

Money Fodder

Coffee time in the morning continues unabated. If I could put an end to the benign activity, I would save $30 per month. Sadly, coffee time is the last of my worldly pleasures. I am truly at peace when I sip a nice hot "cup of Joe."

I confirmed that I could change the automatic payment for my gym membership from my checking account to my one and only credit card. The plan, of course, was to transition everything from my checking account except the mortgage and maintenance fee for the detestable "condotel" unit. In other words, I was preparing to deliberately default on the loan just to get out of debt slavery. Then, I realized that there's no way out. The bank, condominium association, and the city would send everything to a collection agency. I would be in deep shit.

I have estimated that about two months would be required for me to draw out $100,000 from my investment accounts without incurring the cost of a wire transfer to my local bank. Obviously, I am still contemplating the purchase of gold bars. No final decision yet, though.

The den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala was extremely crowded this evening. All of the stores are open late for everyone's Saturnalia shopping pleasure. Fools were spending money like there's no tomorrow. There were a few losers walking around by themselves, the ol' lavahead being one. Fortunately, no one notices or cares about losers.

Tipping Point

Very little to report. Yeah, same ol' shit. I have commenced the purging of non-essential paperwork with respect to the detestable "condotel" unit. I am tired of archiving the crap. Paperwork is another aspect of the failed "immortality narratives."

I mentioned that the tablet computer accompanies me every day. Yet, I never deploy the device. Oddly, I am able to compose vivid narratives for the "blog" in my mind. However, when I finally deploy the tablet computer in the evening, my inspiration has vanished. Actually, that's good. Otherwise, I may waste too much time on trivial diatribes. Worst yet, I'd be repeating myself.

I will make one small correction to my analysis back in September about the inevitability of a global nuclear conflagration. Let's just say that the consequences are still inevitable, but the planners were not betting on such an outcome. Take a good look at a world map. Find Syria and Iran. Every other nation-state in the region is a vassal of empire.

What becomes really obvious is that the entire enterprise of the empire's imperialism is aimed at Russia and China. The game is brinkmanship, and the empire and its axis of vassals are winning. The reason? The leadership of both Russia and China know that any confrontation will rapidly escalate to thermonuclear war. The empire's leaders (and planners), engourged with arrogance, have become extremely brazen in their belief that Russia and China are cowering in fear. So, they keep "pushing the envelope." Eventually, due to sheer stupidity, the point of no return will be breached.

Empires of "Western civilization" historically have subdued their enemies and reduced them to subordinate vassals. A puppet government subservient to empire is installed with little regard for the vassal's population. Megalomania, of course, is natural in progression. That's exactly what's going on currently. The megalomaniacs of empire will not rest until Russia and China are reduced to vassal states.

Nothing really matters, I suppose. Humans are on the path of self-destruction no matter what. We've got several different routes to the same end. And, we're barreling down all of them at full speed to insure our quick extinction. We're talking about dynamic systems here. There's going to be a "tipping point." Doesn't really matter what, be it political, economic, financial, ecological, and so forth. Once the "tipping point" has been crossed, the resulting change will be abrupt and severe. Molech, have mercy!

Ruse (Continued)

The empire has a real looming budget deficit of $87 trillion when unfunded liabilities are included. Unfunded because the "trust funds" have been pillaged. Real unemployment is hovering near 25 percent. One of the metrics for the central bank's detestable zero interest rate policy (ZIRP) is the unemployment rate. ZIRP will remain in effect until unemployment drops to about six percent (using doctored empire figures). With the empire's economy in contraction, the only way that unemployment will decrease is if large numbers of the unemployed lose their unemployment benefits. Cutting off extended benefits will also accelerate the process since the doctored statistics exclude those former wage slaves. The situation is a real mess, but the financial fraud continues unabated.

I suspect that the situation will worsen with each passing year. Only scattered patches of empire will do moderately well. Hawai'i appears to be included in the latter. As long as tourism and the military-industrial complex flourish, then Hawai'i will stay somewhat afloat. Otherwise, usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Nothing to report.

Ruse

I continue with my daily exercise routine even though I know that it is increasingly turning into a farce. At 58 years of age, I am rapidly approaching the threshold of diminishing returns. At a certain point, the body will simply refuse to cooperate. Then, it begins the downward degenerative slide.

I have been able to maintain the ruse so far. However, I have observed that guys in my age group (and above) all have large abdominal "spare tires." The chicks in my age group have the "extreme pear." What more can I say? Of course, the ruse itself is based on the ridiculous "immortality narratives." In retrospect, it's all stupid.

Speaking of ruses, the empire's central bank has increased its monthly "quantitative easing" quota by over 100 percent to $85 billion, effective immediately. How can there still be that much in toxic "paper" every month? Obviously, the same kinds of financial fraud are still continuing unabated. In addition, the central bank has now tied its zero interest rate policy (ZIRP) to the "state of the economy." ZIRP will remain in effect until certain economic metrics are met. In other words, ZIRP is permanent, just as I predicted. Fucking chicken farm.

12.12.12

I suffered a couple of dizzy spells, the spinning room variety, early this morning. Dismayed, I carried on with the same ol' shit nonetheless. I managed to stop off at the office of my automobile insurance provider and obtained coverage for the detestable "condotel" unit. Perhaps the dread of spending more money on insurance is the reason why I had suffered from the dizziness earlier. The "ownership" society is literally killing me.

Yesterday, I neglected to mention that I completed the perusal of the book, "No One Has to Die Alone: Preparing for a Meaningful Death," by Lani Leary. Not just for caregivers or the terminally ill, the book is meaningful for all mortal humans. My current interest in mortality may seem morbid, but I beg to differ. Mortality is really all that we have that has any true meaning. It is the only truth, the absolute truth. Denial of mortality is the denial of truth.

Have you been reading the "mainstream" news about the latest in financial fraud? A certain UK bank has been forced pay a pittance for penalty after a huge money laundering scheme was uncovered. Deferred prosecution, no criminal indictments. The bank was "too big to prosecute," according to the empire's "justice (sic) system." The criminal activity was peaking at the time of the global financial collapse. In effect, the laundered drug money was allegedly the only liquidity that kept the global economy afloat at the time. Little wonder why the rank-and-file peons are routinely going on homicidal rampages. If we really understood mortality, very little of that rubbish would be tolerated.

Post No. 2,417

I ran into my homeless buddy this morning outside the public library. He told me that he and several of the other Next Step homeless shelter residents suffered from food poisoning last night. Tainted food from the evening meal was implicated. My homeless buddy checked in at a medical clinic this morning and was treated.

I also ran into Ralph, former Dean of a local community college. He has returned to teaching. The story is slightly more complicated. He had resigned as Dean because he was certain that he would be selected for a professorial opening. Unfortunately, the position was offered to someone else who did not even meet the requirements. Ralph is seeking legal advice about his subsequent course of action. Of course, we already know about the rampant backstabbing that occurs in educational institutions. Too many faggots and weasels.

Well, I was fortunate to find the episode of "Futurama" and download it to the tablet computer last night. I can't say that I am a fan of the series, though. Perhaps I am too old to comprehend the humor. I did, however, appreciate the strange correlation to Ernest Becker's monumental work, "The Denial of Death."

Lethal Inspection

I have been reading the "Denial File" (an offshoot of the Ernest Becker Foundation) on-line. Very interesting commentaries. I found one entry to be of particular interest last night. The post titled, "Lethal Inspection," was composed by contributor Cory Foster. The title refers to an episode (with the same title) of the animated series, "Futurama," in which the robot, Bender, discovers that a certain "immortality" chip is missing from his circuitry. "This effectively makes him mortal. His reaction is one of rage and violence, and he vows to take revenge on the assembly line inspector whose responsibility it was to make sure that Bender was built to industry standards. He travels through North America on a frantic search for this 'Inspector 5,' and eventually winds up in Tijuana, where he was built," Foster chronicles. The tie-in, of course, is with concepts in the book, "The Denial of Death," by Ernest Becker. I am now frantically looking for the video clip to download onto my tablet computer.

Rage and violence. Sound familiar? Yeah, failed "immortality narratives." Humans never seem to tire of playing the same old games. I am inclined to believe that the model of the five stages of grief developed by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross is relevant over the course of a human lifetime just as it applies to those who are near the end. The actual stages seem to be invoked after adolescence, coincidentally with the emergence of increased self-awareness. What do you think?

All human endeavors have been in vain. The majority of people would take issue with the latter thought. The belief in human exceptionalism can blind the best of us. All of the improvements that have come about through centuries of innovation have only served to increase the human population exponentially. That's the bottom line. Now, every aspect of our many failed and failing paradigms requires "growth." That, my friends, ultimately means population growth. We've lost our way a long time ago. We're only left with entropy to solve our problems in the harshest manner. Oh well. Otherwise, usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Nothing to report.

Fraud

After receiving two dubious pieces of e-mail about insuring the detestable "condotel" unit, I finally realized the more sinister connotations. The originator of the e-mail was not the devious owners association. Rather, the sender was the insurance agent for the blanket policy that covers the entire property. Odd? Upon closer scrutiny, not really.

Long story short, the insurance industry is on the verge of structural failure. The zero interest rate policy (ZIRP) of the empire's central bank is about to expose the entire insurance Ponzi scheme for what it is. At stake are the victims' premiums, payouts, annuities, and pensions. That's why the insurance industry is seeking to reduce its reserve requirements. Cash needs to be made available for more speculative investments with returns greater than zero percent. Expect a bailout of the insurance industry down the road.

The entire finance, insurance, and real estate (FIRE) sector is riddled with fraud. And, it's getting worse because there's no regulation and no accountability. I don't know why I keep repeating myself about nonsense no one else cares about. Right now, everyone is more concerned about purchasing useless junk to offer as gifts. Money is being used as a proxy for caring. Saturnalia, just as fraudulent as FIRE. Fucking chicken farm.

Fodder for Pariahs

The "ownership" society is killing me. That's the honest truth. Not to mention the chicken farm conditions that we rank-and-file peons must endure. Well, the chicken farm is the long-term result of the "ownership" society (which is a product of the failed "immortality narratives"). "Ownership" is a ludicrous concept. Just ask the victims of Hurricane Sandy.

I am now seriously contemplating the purchase of $100,000 in gold bars prior to my escape from the "system." I really don't know how to handle the storage of the latter and the residual cash. All I know is that I cannot remain a slave for my remaining handful of years. I must know true freedom before I cease to exist.

The Next Step homeless shelter is no longer an option. My homeless buddy has continued to weave a tale of total dereliction in the dump. If I opt for homelessness, I will have to "hit the streets." The shelter is also maintaining a paper trail for all of its residents. Unacceptable.

On a side note, I never realized what a nightmare that humanity has become until I removed the blinders of ignorance. We have been born into the "system," so we did not know better. We must peel back layer upon layer of indoctrinated nonsense before we can even approach some semblance of truth. Subsequently, there's no turning back. Welcome, fellow pariahs!

Beyond the Chicken Farm

I experienced a very strange dream last night. Even though I awoke twice to "drain the lizard," the dream continued once I fell asleep. I will only provide a synopsis. I was employed by an unnamed farcical educational institution. All of the personnel were actual people whom I have worked with before. The head of the institution was a young hottie, whom I have never seen before. Baby came on to the ol' lavahead. The resulting debauchery was beyond imagination. Needless to say, I was both fatigued and dumbfounded all day. Oh yeah, usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Nothing to report.

The global chicken farm is in a terrible disarray. The buildup to the "Libya-tion" of Syria is accelerating. The same sorry-ass script is being deployed again, although few of the empire's moronic cannon fodder can identify the similarities. Lots of innocent Syrians will end up as "collateral damage" (i.e., cadavers), just as they did in Iraq, Afghanistan, Yemen, Libya, and so forth. Once the absolute truths are discovered, once the "immortality narratives" are discarded, then the senselessness of it all can be exposed. Unfortunately, unfounded beliefs (like bad religion), keeps the killing and maiming at a fever pitch.

By the way, I came to the realization today that taxes are not necessary. After the global money "system" proved itself to be a big joke, the idea of wages and taxes is centered on control of the population. Currently all central banks are monetizing their respective sovereign debts. In other words, the central bank buys up all of the government bonds and exchanges them for "paper" money. Take a look at the empire's debt. It keeps growing and growing. Tax revenues will never keep up. So, the debt will most likely never be repaid. Money created out of nothing is funding the endless imperial wars. Why not just float more bonds to pay everyone (i.e., rank-and-file peons) a living wage or a significant lump sum? Yes, that's entirely possible. However, the moneychangers and powers-that-be won't have it. Fucking chicken farm.

Chicken Farm

The world of humans is a chicken farm (refer to the documentary video, "Food, Inc." for a good view of a chicken farm). "Civilization" is a chicken farm. Society is a chicken farm. We are the chickens.

With each passing day, I am becoming more and more aware of the farce. Once the virulent "immortality narratives" have been inoculated, once the failed "civilization" paradigm has been discarded, once the denial of mortality has been neutralized, then there is nothing left but the naked truth. We have created a global chicken farm with recursive chicken farms for all other species of life.

I ran into Kevin, the burly homeless guy, and confirmed that he was at Kawaikui Beach Park yesterday. He spent the time there in an inebriated state. A few minutes later, I espied Kevin in the public library's restroom with a cohort who was splitting a bottle of Vodka between them. Lots of new homeless faces, by the way. Chicken farm.

This afternoon, I spent the last half of the bus ride back to Slob Manor (read: rental housing) standing up because an extremely obese bitch had sat next to me. Or, should I say, sat on me. The layers of viscous blubber oozed over my arm and leg. Of course, within a few seconds, the amorphous blob was coated with perspiration. Rather than sit there and end up soaked with the hideous creature's sweat and odor, I chose to relinquish the seat. The huge balloon of fat then molded itself to fit two seats. Fucking chicken farm.

Wishful Fodder

Yesterday at Slob Manor (read: rental housing), Alan summarized his retirement plans during our brief conversation. He plans to remain employed until age sixty-six. Each year, he invests $20,000 in his retirement account. He expects to have $300,000 at the end (with distributions reinvested). The money is in some kind of stock equity fund, which Alan claimed to be yielding 20 percent per annum. Upon retirement, Alan will use his monthly Social Security benefits to pay the mortgage on his "McMansion" in Arizona. For living expenses, he plans to live off of the "interest" income from his retirement account. Lots of wishful thinking, eh?

On the other hand, I have had recurring intrusive thoughts about fleeing the "system." I want to withdraw all the money in my investment and retirement accounts. About one-quarter of the proceeds would be converted to gold bars. The remaining amount would be held in useless paper money. I would then immediately default on the "condotel" mortgage, taking a nasty $80,000 "haircut." However, I would finally be free. Is such a large loss worth it? I am beginning to think so.

I really want to "wipe the slate clean" and start over again. I want complete anonymity and autonomy. Then, I want to disappear into the "underground." Homelessness? Perhaps. As of now, only freedom matters. Freedom, for fuck's sake!

This morning, while standing at the bus stop, I saw Kevin (the burly homeless guy) alight a bus on the other side of the highway. He walked into Kawaikui Beach Park and disappeared. I muttered, "What the fuck is Kevin doing over there?" That's the first time I have seen him in over a week. Aside from that, the highlight of the day was the restoration of my extreme monk haircut.

Old Man Stories II

"First the glasses, now hearing aids," Alan lamented to me this morning at Slob Manor (read: rental housing). "After turning 60 years old, everything has been downhill." He then showed me his new $2,000 over-the-ear hearing aid. Alan had no choice. His employer will force early retirement upon him if he can't pass the hearing test. Frankly, the real plan is probably to replace Alan with someone younger at entry level wages. Of course, that would ruin Alan's grandiose retirement plans.

My homeless buddy was somewhat upset this morning. He was interested in finding a decent wage slave job, but he has thus far only received referrals to minimum wage dishwasher positions. If he earns less than his current disability benefits, then he may as well remain unemployed. My homeless buddy is 54 years old, obviously no "Spring chicken." He is running out of options. We chatted only briefly because he had to meet up with the homeless work detail. All able-bodied homeless males from the Next Step homeless shelter were required to work for four hours this afternoon putting up Saturnalia decorations in the park near the shelter.

I have downloaded a handful of choice hurdy-gurdy video clips onto the tablet computer in order to "test" the dysfunctional Vienna Sausage. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa! There won't be any kind of archive. I am simply following what Mr. Ray in Washington State once suggested: download the files as needed and dispose of them afterward. I can't access the hurdy-gurdy video files on the flash drives with the tablet computer, by the way. That's how stupid the idea of maintaining collections or archives really is. Sheesh!

Old Man Stories I

Very disturbing. I have noticed that the skin on my arms and the back of my hands is no longer smooth. The texture is "crinkly" (for lack of a better term). In other words, the elasticity is all but gone. My palms have hundreds of wrinkle lines. The muscles in my thighs are flabby. A few years ago, my thighs were larger and rock hard. My body is in the process of decomposition. Very soon, nothing that I do will abate the physical deterioration.

The oversized cranium itself is another story. Wrinkles are becoming more pronounced, with "bags" forming below the eyes. Small old man spots and other facial blemishes are speckled generously. The facial hair is almost exclusively gray. Well, I am beginning to fit the description of "old codger."

Aside from the obvious, I have been looking and seeing things that could only be because of one of two possibilities: either I am going insane, or the entirety of humanity has gone insane. With the absolute truth in the form of Ernest Becker's book, "The Denial of Death," firmly in hand, I am assured that I am not the one suffering from insanity. Anxiety, maybe. I am an old man now, so no one will pay heed to my words. So, why bother? Oh yeah, usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Nothing to report.

Never-Ending Shit (Reprise)

"I have more money than everyone else in there," my homeless buddy told me yesterday, referring to the other Next Step homeless shelter residents. I don't doubt him, but that's why he may not be welcome there for too much longer. If it had been me, I would probably be arrested for impersonating a homeless guy. Sheesh!

The only reason that the "blog" has yet to be mummified is my fear of becoming a simple minded media consumer. Composing the idiotic "blog" is an active, albeit benign, interaction. Otherwise, I would just be zombie tapping away at the screen on my tablet computer. That's why the transition has been postponed. Currently, I am looking at the end of the year as the official mummification date. Who knows? Who cares?

Of course, every day, same ol' shit. That's pretty much the consensus for all "blog" varieties (i.e., news, politics, finance, economics, sports, religion, conspiracy theory, and so forth). Same ol' shit is the order of the day. Movies, programs on the tube, same ol' shit. Books, comics, newspapers, same ol' shit. Stock market, mutual funds, bonds, same ol' shit. School, wage slavery, same ol' shit. Food, same ol' shit. Morons, brain donors, fools, fucktards, same ol' shit. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!

Net Worth Boondoggle

I ran into my homeless buddy this morning. Lots of nonsense and illegal activities going on at the Next Step homeless shelter. In addition, he mentioned that he is being asked to expedite his move out of the shelter. Somehow it was discovered that he has more money than he originally claimed (even though he has stashed excess cash in a safety deposit box). I suspect that a credit check was initiated. The only transitional housing that is available is way out in Kapolei. Everything in town has a one-year waiting list. So, he's looking at camping out at a church in Kalihi. The church is apparently soliciting for homeless campers. My homeless buddy showed me the flyer with the details. He is going to check it out next week. Heck, if it looks good, I may join him. Sheesh!

The median (not mean) net worth of all the empire's households is $57,000 (of which 37 percent have $10,000 or less in assets). Can those figures really be true? I have been observing people from all walks of life spending so much money on Saturnalia that my mind was boggled. How can they spend thousands upon thousands of worthless paper money when their net worth is only a small multiple of that? I have also heard that most "Baby Boomers" only have about $25,000 in total set aside for retirement. How can that be?

After another grueling day of the same ol' shit, I decided to remain in my squalid room at Slob Manor (read: rental housing) for the evening. I needed a break from viewing the endless Saturnalia stupidity at the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala.

Beyond Mummification

First I reneged on mummifying the "blog," now I am breaking the rule about discussing books. I completed reading, "That's Disgusting: Unraveling the Mysteries of Repulsion," by Rachel Herz. The book is very worthy of mention because of the surprising underpinnings to Ernest Becker's monumental work.

I also completed reading a book about the supposed gold "bubble." So, what about the bond (i.e., debt) "bubble"? Or, the stock market "bubble"? Or, the paper money "bubble"? Or, the still semi-inflated housing "bubble"? The price of gold is high, but I don't expect it to collapse unless unless a Paul Volcker type of monetary policy is invoked globally. Fat chance!

And, I perused the book, "Encyclopedia Paranoiaca," by Henry Beard and Christopher Cerf while at the bookstore in the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala last night. Dental floss is toxic? Who knew?

By the way, I have resumed my daily dosage of psyllium in an attempt to determine if I am suffering from some kind of intestinal blockage. The old man maladies just keep on coming. Oh yeah, usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Nothing to report.

Ol' Lavahead Day 2012

Well, the ol' lavahead is now officially 58 years of age. He is a senior citizen. An old codger. A fossil. And, he will be "rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic" until the bitter end. Insofar as the "blog" is concerned, the bitter end is here. No fanfare. No eulogy. Done deal.

Just kidding! I had an excruciatingly tortuous Ol' Lavahead Day such that I could not make the final decision to mummify the "blog." Details are not necessary. Just know that I experienced an endless number of "senior moments." Very perturbing.

Prolonging the Agony

I was going to continue to wax metaphysical on the topic of human consciousness, but there is no point. I am too fatigued since I received a threatening e-mail from the "condotel" owners association. I am being forced to purchase condo insurance or pay some ridiculous fine. Well, I skirted the issue for the past seven years (saving over $1,000 in expenditures), so I suppose that the time has come for me to pay my dues, so to speak.

Incidentally, whether the "blog" is discontinued or not, I will no longer mention any of the books that I completed reading or movies that I have viewed. The same holds true for all updates once the "blog" is mummified. Anyway, who really cares?

Actually, I already read the last rites for the "blog" on August 6th. I am seemingly prolonging the agony for no apparent reason. I am not even certain about why a couple of readers continue to visit. Everyone else "threw in the towel." A few former readers offered unsolicited advice and were probably disenchanted when I did not follow the latter. Oh well. Overall, the advice that I received was basically a call for me to return to the "mainstream." Unacceptable.

The entirety of human society and legacy is based on failed "immortality narratives" and the equally failed "civilization" paradigm. In a nutshell, humans have been eternally promoting a ludicrous doctrine of "exceptionalism," all the while stressing a complete separation from the animal world. The result? The failed "dominion" paradigm. The stupidity will never end. I just don't have the luxury of time to entertain failed paradigms anymore.

Beyond Ernest Becker

Beautiful full moon tonight. Red star reminder. Beacon of the "mortal" universe. Few humans notice the glowing orb these days. Perhaps if they did, they would be able to alter the erroneous course of humanity.

I have been observing youngsters (i.e., infants, toddlers, and pre-adolescents) lately. They are brats, very poorly behaved. Obviously, their parents have done little to foster responsibility and respect. But, I digress. I was once that young and stupid. I cannot recollect much. My consciousness was severely stunted, or dare I say, in a very primitive state.

I really don't even know when my consciousness and self-awareness came about. I am, however, beginning to accept that consciousness is a symbolic and abstract construct. Each living organism possesses a lifeforce, something that allows it to co-exist autonomously with other organisms. The human mind has been able to create an elaborate abstraction that produces enhanced self-awareness, hence consciousness. The "soul," unfortunately does not exist.

The denial (and fear) of mortality is another elaborate abstraction as well as an extension of the basic survival instinct. In other words, human consciousness views itself as an entity that cannot and should not be destroyed. It is basic survival elevated into the metaphysical realm.

On a side note, I ran into my young veteran buddy on the bus this afternoon. He did not seem to be his usual self. Turns out that, on the No-Holiday Holiday, he went to visit his father only to discover that the latter had passed on a few days earlier. I won't go into details, but it wasn't a pretty sight. His grandmother was accompanying him and ended up suffering a mild heart attack after the initial shock. Incidentally, his father was about my age.

Farce & Fodder

Usual Hawai'i Kai visit. My nephew is still retired. Otherwise, nothing to report. I suffered from a terrible neck pain and backache all day. Old man maladies, no doubt. Yeah, I was somewhat grumpy, too.

I am currently looking at Ol' Lavahead Day 2012 as the official last day of the "blog." Of course, I could easily change my mind. Given that there has been a poverty of topics, I have no reason to do so. And, irregular updates seem more logical. If I decide otherwise, then the end of the year will be the alternative target date.

I should mention that I am deeply conflicted by the course of humanity. Upon discovering the absolute truths, then learning of the failed "immortality narratives," I became acutely aware of the farce that I have been living, that we've all been living. The human saga is a pathetic story. Somewhere along the line, we missed the point. Now, we're so far off-track that nothing can be done to remedy the situation.

We are simply stupid animals. Yes, stupid animals who refuse to accept the Laws of Thermodynamics and entropy. Throw in a generous serving of denial (of mortality), and here we are. Seriously ponder the latter, then try to return to "business as usual." Might as well be "rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic."

Post No. 2,401

I have been observing the various senior citizens who work out at the gym. Frankly, why do they bother? They could achieve the same result by walking in circles around the house while armcurling a desk lamp. I am not poking fun at my fellow senior citizens. I am really only a handful of years behind them.

I have completed the mummification of several on-line accounts, including the old journal. Not to worry, I simply altered any personal information and changed the password to a cryptic one that will not be archived. In other words, I will have no access to those accounts from this point forward. Specifically, I wanted to make the accounts hacker-proof. Yet, one has to wonder. Who would want to hack into any of my accounts? I am a non-entity.

The issue of non-toxic food has come to the forefront again. I am revisiting my viewpoint concerning food. I will now most likely downgrade my requirements. Obviously, the most blatant carcinogens and toxic substances should be avoided at all costs. However, the need for "organic" or other esoteric foods is officially mummified. I'm an old codger. As I degenerate with age, I will be susceptible to all kinds of ailments and maladies. Exceptionally pure food will make no difference, except to drain my limited resources even faster.

On a side note, I perused a few budget tablet computers. Whoa! They all make my tablet computer look really pathetic. The user interfaces were polished and very smooth. I am almost too embarrassed to admit that I own two of the same substandard tablet computers. Once again, I have been "rooked."

Conversational Fodder

"Every day, same ol' shit," one of the homeless guys said to me the other day. Yeah, I couldn't agree more. Lots of new homeless people everywhere, by the way. As you can guess, I am most comfortable around the homeless. Although, I really don't engage in conversation with any of them except for my homeless buddy.

Conversations are becoming rarer and rarer with me. I could easily be mistaken for a mute. As I mentioned previously in the "blog," I can go for days or weeks without speaking to anyone. Obviously, I can barely hold a conversation, even if just small talk. That's why I don't need a cellphone. I really don't need an e-mail account either. I should be lonely, but I'm not. I avoid chatting with the imbeciles of Slob Manor (read: rental housing), too. I absolutely do not want to waste any time talking about other people's realities or their foolish fodder. If I desired that kind of stupidity, I would purchase a widescreen LCD tube. Sheesh!

No doubt, my degrading conversational skills are contributing to the demise of the "blog." I can no longer frame my thoughts. The desire to do so is also waning. That brings me to the topic of mummification. I am contemplating the official end of the "blog." Subsequently, I would only post irregular updates. Sounds good?

There are very few regular readers. And, I seriously doubt that anyone reads every word. Skimming or rapid perusal is more likely. The "blog" is my only form of conversation, though. Once it is mummified, I will really be mute. Will that be the first sign of insanity?

Black Voodoo Friday 2012

Last night, I finally prepared and ate the genuine military-issue MRE® (Meal, Ready-to-Eat) that my homeless buddy had given to me. The experience was a "pain in the ass" for the equivalent of a fast food meal. Oh well.

Usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Nothing to report. Well, there are many stupid stories to tell about the morons who reside at Slob Manor (read: rental housing), but I don't want to waste my time composing the fodder. Just know that the fools continue to amaze me with the depth of their stupidity.

How about that "Black Friday" shit, huh? All for Saturnalia. What a farce! I arrived at the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala at 6pm. The masses were still trudging around like drugged cattle, loaded down with payloads of shopping bags. Yeah, cattle with lots of money, the worst of the breed. I couldn't even imagine what it was like just a few hours earlier. And, every year, it's the same ol' shit.

As a casual and neutral observer, I can truthfully state that there is something terribly wrong with humanity. We've grown cancerous insofar as population is concerned. But, what's worse is that we've become a very self-destructive form of cancer. Radiation therapy in the form of a atomic weapon of mass destruction (WMD) is probably the only cure. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!

No-Holiday Holiday 2012

No time for holidays, especially for the No-Holiday Holiday. The routine was similar to that of the past, so details are not necessary. I will say that there were lots of fools everywhere. Doesn't anyone celebrate the detestable holiday anymore? Yeah, crowds everywhere. The den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala was crowded. All the buses were jam-packed. Not exactly what I would call a relaxing day.

I returned to the den of consumerism in Kahala this evening. The place was desolate. Very relaxing. Much more comfortable than the despicable conditions in Slob Manor (read: rental housing). I sat around and composed the "blog." Well, hey! I am a true eunuch now!

On a side note, I am once again mummifying on-line accounts. The ones that cannot be deleted are given a new mummification password. If possible, the account information is modified with bogus personal data. Later, I will discard the password. Access to the accounts will then be impossible.

Vienna Sausage - RIP (Continued)

Last Typical "Blog" Hottie
I am still reeling over the shocking discovery yesterday. The ol' lavahead is now a real monk. Eunuch. Android. Asexual automaton. Old codger. Walking cadaver. The Vienna Sausage is a goner. What are we to make of that? Not much, I suppose.

With that said, the "blog" continues to devolve. No more babe pictures. This is the last of the formatted posts, set up months ago with the netbook. As I stated previously, the tablet computer does not play well with the new "blog" Web interface. I am also avoiding text formatting and hyperlink inclusion. Mummification is right around the corner.

Vienna Sausage - RIP

I ran into my homeless buddy this morning. He mentioned that theft situation in the Next Step homeless shelter is out of control. He now drops off anything valuable (e.g., notebook computer) in his rental storage unit before checking in at the shelter in the evening. Then, he retrieves his valuables the next morning. He is now anxiously awaiting word about any available subsidized housing rentals. I also chatted with Kevin, the burly homeless guy. He has been conspicuously absent for over a week because of an alcoholic drinking binge and subsequent time in a detoxification center.

RIP Vienna Sausage
Out of curiosity, I decided to "test" the Vienna Sausage. The results? The Vienna Sausage is almost completely dysfunctional, having failed all of the diagnostics. The ol' lavahead is an impotent walking cadaver. Woe is the ol' lavahead! No wonder he easily divested the massive hurdy-gurdy video library (HGVL). Sheesh!

Walking Cadavers

What a horrendous day! I nearly fell squarely on my face after I tripped over a non-existent obstruction. I sustained a few scrapes. All of the food that I normally purchase at the supermarket was completely gone. The only highlight of the day was my visit to my local bank and the bank that holds my mortgage for the detestable "condotel" unit. The tellers were all gorgeous young hotties. Otherwise, usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Nothing to report.

The one really traumatic ordeal of being an old codger is seeing all of the young hotties running amuck. No babe, not even an older babe, is in interested in an old codger who looks like a wrinkled prune with a sagging physique. So, what's left? Downloading hurdy-gurdy videos and chokin' da chicken. It is a pathetic blessing that the Vienna Sausage eventually atrophies. Old fools who try to postpone the inevitable with risky medication or implants are kidding themselves. When the Vienna Sausage goes, though, a man becomes a real walking cadaver.

Actually, in a sense, we're all walking cadavers from the time we are born. A few decades is really meaningless with respect to time. Yet, humans proceed with the same flawed "immortality narratives." Just look at all of the killing and maiming going on globally. All the pain and suffering. Just so the moneychangers and powers-that-be can appease Molech. In the quest for immortality, the peons must be sacrificed at the altar. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!

Gold Fodder

Have you noticed the proliferation of gold and jewelry buyers in your neighborhood? There's a shop on nearly every corner. Times are hard, and people are obviously trading in whatever they can for cash. Yet, does that merit a shop on every corner? Why? Then, it dawned upon me that a lot of sovereign states are attempting to repatriate their gold that has been curiously stored outside of their borders.

There has been a lot of speculation that a significant portion of the stored gold is missing. The custodians have apparently taken a few liberties. If there is any truth to the allegations, then the reason for the tremendous demand for gold makes sense. For starters, I would suggest researching the topic of Germany's and China's gold reserves. Yeah, something "fishy" is going on. Is it time to purchase gold?

Very little else to discuss. The final donation of useless crap was accomplished. Even my humble soap dish was donated. Sheesh!

Zero Fodder

I ran into my homeless buddy. He has been working at the Alakea Delicatessen in town about three days per week. He has also been actively pursuing a low income rental (i.e., subsidized) unit. A few of the homeless have already been placed at several locations.

Nothing to report. I decided to stay in at Slob Manor (read: rental housing) for the evening. Both Alan and the "chef" were gone. Tom was on good behavior for a change. So, I enjoyed a little peace and quiet in my squalid room.

My Fellow Cadavers

Greetings, my fellow cadavers! Did you like that? Well, it's true. Everywhere I look, I see nothing but cadavers ... err, people. Thousands upon thousands of people, and I am just here in tiny Hawai'i. Seven billion people on the planet, all of them mortal. We'll eventually all the end up as cadavers. Where the heck are all of the current and future cadavers going to be placed? After all, humanity continues the tradition of preserving cadavers in marked graves or mausoleums, presumably to allow ease of identification by a deity for future resurrection. Can you imagine a planet overrun by cadavers?

Well, I am in the process of preparing one final donation of useless possessions, of which the drop off in the charity bin is scheduled for Sunday. This is it, my friends. I will be down to less than the bare necessities. I am at the base poverty level as it is. Otherwise, usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Nothing to report.

Post No. 2,391

I ran into Ann this morning. She's still unemployed and frantically looking for a new wage slave position. I certainly could not offer any options. I seriously doubt that she would even entertain the idea of moving into a homeless shelter. Incidentally, I have not seen any of the familiar homeless faces including my homeless buddy. What happened to them?

Once again, absolutely no progress is being made toward my exit from society. I am literally dragging my feet. The stupid part, of course, is that there is so little left to be done. Why not just get it over with already? And, what about my precarious financial situation? How should I protect my squalid net worth? Should I purchase $40,000 in gold bars or a Jawbone® Jambox®? Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!

Non-Existent Fodder

I have been pondering my non-existence for a few days now. It's kind of a frightening thought. According to Stephen Cave in his book, "Immortality," we really cannot conceptualize non-existence. Even if we were to attempt to visualize non-existence, we would fail because the viewpoint would still be third-party at best. So, there's no need to get worked up over nothing.

Well, I beg to differ. Even if I cannot conceptualize my own non-existence, I am not relieved. Non-existence is not some kind of paradise or brain vacation. Consciousness is completely extinguished, and the state of being an entity disappears. Sentience terminates. What are we to make of that?

As I stated previously, consciousness is a curse. Once we become self-aware and realize our mortality, there is no return to ignorance. We have to live with the curse from that point forward. Hence, all of our activities, our distractions, our psychopathologies, and our flawed beliefs are feeble attempts to circumvent the curse. Obviously, to no avail.

By the way, wasting time and "rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic" are really just subjective assessments based upon mortal time. All human endeavors are a waste of time. Mortality insures that any outcome is pointless. And, really, we are working diligently toward our self-destruction anyway.

So, where do we go from here? I'd have to say that we need to quickly abandon most, if not all, of our global, local, and personal paradigms. We only live in the moment, so producing lasting memories is ludicrous. Projecting way into the future is another laughable venture. In other words, we must immediately discard ingrained "immortality narratives." With that said, my only useful activity for the day was the restoration of my extreme monk haircut.

Foolish Fodder

I have been allocating less and less time for the composition of the "blog," albeit deliberately, even though the tablet computer now accompanies me all day, every day. The "blog" has also been forced into simplicity because I can no longer invoke any of features in the new Web interface, as I mentioned on a previous occasion. Of course, now I am repeating myself. So, on to random thoughts.

Lots of anxiety today. None of my daily activities makes any sense anymore. I am either wasting valuable time or "rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic." Yet, I have no other clear options. Oh boy, repeating myself again.

I neglected to mention that I saw Les on the bus on Saturday. He boarded in Kaimuki, so I must assume that he resides in the vicinity. He sat in the seat across from me. I can confirm that he looks as though he's in his seventies. He has cut his hair somewhat short, so he must be aware that he's completely gray. Of course, short gray hair does not make him look any younger. Even worse, he now has the face of an old codger. Waiting for the "Rapture," Armageddon, or the return of Molech is surely taking a toll on him.

Everywhere I am, I observe myriad kids and toddlers. There's apparently a new "baby boom" going on. Sheer insanity! The average is about two or three youngsters per family. What are those parents thinking? Of course, the denial of mortality allows people to engage in extremely foolish behavior. Or, maybe like Les, they believe that all the little "souls" will eventually end up in "Heaven." Dangerous and stupid thinking.

No Time For Holidays VII

Another day to honor the empire's fallen soldiers. It would not be so tragic if theirs lives had not been sacrificed in vain, that is, serving as cannon fodder to advance the deviant agenda of the "one percent" (i.e., the moneychangers and powers-that-be). Of course, wars have always plagued humans. Wars are often conflicts of flawed beliefs or failed "immortality narratives." Overall, that is why the "civilization" paradigm is unworkable.

Heard from Caroll. She has moved to Watsonville in Cali with her brother. They acquired "Section 8" housing. Her brother apparently suffered from two strokes so far. They are surviving on very little money. Otherwise, usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Nothing else to report.

Time Fodder

Not much transpired today to qualify as anything beyond normal. I was detached and focused my thoughts mainly on my mortality. In the end, that's what freedom buys. Yes, more time to reflect on the futility of a short lifespan. Would I rather return to full-on slavery and a life purely saturated with distractions? Not really.

Frankly, I would rather be acutely aware of every painfully dull moment of my waking hours than to suddenly discover that weeks, months, or years have elapsed with no real recollection of any interval of time. I'd rather watch paint dry than not even notice that the paint was ever applied. When time passes too quickly, there can be no appreciation of it and no moment to savor.

We humans, individually, have a mere few brief decades to experience ... well, the universe. In five billion years, no solar system, no earth. Eventually, the expanding universe will cool to absolute zero. Game over. None of us will be coming back after our time. I am both dumbfounded and terrified. Yet, here we are on earth, continuing to pull the same asinine stunts. For example, the "one percent" is inflicting severe pain and suffering on the "99 percent" in order to steal the minuscule wealth owned by the latter rank-and-file peons. What is it all worth? I'll tell you. Absolutely nothing. Foolish. Meaningless. Downright stupid.

I am also pondering the surreal concept of non-existence. I am not speaking of being invisible to babes. Rather, I am alluding to the moment when my time is up. The thought provokes a lot of anxiety, to say the least. However, I will leave the topic for another day.

Memory Fodder

Another "No Time for Holidays" kind-of-a-day. As usual, the homeless could be spotted in the exact same locales as the ol' lavahead. Little wonder why he is often mistaken for one of the homeless. Sheesh!

I have been pondering my mortality once again. What do I need to accomplish before my time is up? That's a good question, isn't it? We've been trained to squeeze as many exciting experiences as possible within our short lifespan. Yet, I have to wonder, does such a strategy make any sense? All life experiences accrue as memories. What good are memories when the feeble mind eventually forgets them?

I find that I have nothing left to accomplish, not that I accomplished anything to begin with. I have essentially done nothing. And, I don't expect the trend to change. All I want to do is sit around and literally watch the world parade in front of me. No participation, of course. I am down to divesting what little possessions that remain and performing minimal personal maintenance. That's it.

Post No. 2,385

Usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Nada, nada, nada, nada to report. Rest of the day? Same ol' shit. This is 2,385th post in the "blog." What more can be said?

Homeless shelters? Gold? General stupidity? I am beginning to lose my focus. The "blog" is going off in the wrong direction again. Not good. Oh, I don't know. I am somewhat fatigued and irate after reading Chris Ferguson's book, "Predator Nation." I have been reading quite a bit of material concerning the contrived global financial crisis. However, I did not realize just how rigged and corrupt the "system" is. Why are the rank-and-file peons even bothering to vote in the (s)elections? What is the point?

Now we have the idiotic Saturnalia shopping season coming up. Every year, same ol' shit. Excessive spending on useless junk as a distraction. Pure insanity. What's even worse is that people are displaying ever more psychotic symptoms in public. Their behavior is clearly aberrant. However, no one notices because it is the collective "norm."

Case in point. I was sitting in one of the chairs in the bookstore in the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala this evening. I was composing the "blog" as usual. A crazed bitch wearing a huge head scarf was frantically stumbling through the aisles. The bitch rammed into my chair, stepping on my feet in the process, nearly falling on top of me. Without saying anything, the bitch quickly returned to stumbling around. Until I said, "Watch where you're going, you stupid bitch," there wasn't any attempt at an apology. A prompted apology, of course, means nothing to me. I rebutted, "Why don't you take that fucking thing off your head so you can see where you're going?" As can clearly be ascertained, I am a genuine "people person." Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!

Gold & Stupidity

I ran into my homeless buddy again. He has been investigating the transitional housing referrals, only to discover that the waiting list is spanning between one and three years. So, he will be staying at the Next Step homeless shelter for a while longer. He is also commencing a part-time wage slave job tomorrow at a restaurant in town. And, he is now spending the weekends at his babe's place.

I completed reading the book, "Predator Nation: Corporate Criminals, Political Corruption, and the Hijacking of America," by Charles Ferguson. Very interesting book. However, I would not advise reading it without a good supply of antacids handy. The truth will really hurt.

I am now seriously contemplating the purchase of $40,000 or even more in gold bars. I can provide no adequate reason for the purchase. Heck, even the majority of so-called "gold bugs" are not heavily invested in physical gold, preferring exchange-traded funds (ETFs) instead. I have already previously discussed the reasons against gold purchases in the "blog." My opinion hasn't changed, but the purchase may still go through.

I don't want to keep repeating myself or belabor old points, but I really cannot believe how stupidity and ignorance has totally festered within the general populace. To say that people in general are stupid would be a drastic understatement. The fact is that they are becoming more stupid, if that is even possible. Brain donors, fucktards, morons, imbeciles, dickheads, asswipes ... all of them arrogant and haughty. In other words, damned proud to be stupid. Scary, isn't it? Well, I admit it, that's the reason why I seek a hedge position in gold.

Jolt to the Cranium

The drunkard Tom was up until 5am this morning at Slob Manor (read: rental housing), imbibing on cheap booze with one of his drunkard buddies. Naturally, Tom was doing all of the talking. I could hear him droning on and on. Lately, he's been slamming doors a lot during his brief moments of sobriety. Long story short, I suspect that Tom is suffering from alcohol psychosis, which is manifesting itself in unpredictable rage.

Well, I have a surprise for Tom, if he spirals out of control. The trusty Nova® Spirit electronic restraining device (ERD) still has enough "juice" to jolt his cranium real good. A little electroshock therapy goes a long way in abating psychotic symptoms. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa! Later, I will have to order a new battery for the device. No telling how many "doses" that Tom may require.

I ran into my homeless buddy this morning. His case worker is attempting to find him transitional housing (i.e., temporary housing at reduced rent). He also provided me with more details concerning the scheme that would have to be perpetrated to admit me into the Next Step homeless shelter. Clearly, we are looking at falsified documents, forgery, deception by omission, perjury, and so forth. "It's not a crime, we're not stealing," he told me.

(S)election Day 2012

The annoying circus of (S)election Day left me no choice but to follow the "No Time for Holidays" itinerary. Buses were running on regular schedule, but public schools, libraries, community colleges, and university were closed. Voting means nothing to me. I am a Socialist (for lack of a better option), and there are no candidates representing the people's party.

I'm predicting that Mitt Romney will be (s)elected. The masses appear ready to swing in the direction of religious (read: hypocritical) conservatism. Actually, too predictable. Too stupid. Want answers? Read the book, "Denial of Death," by Ernest Becker.

Frankly, I am hoping for a Romney win. Then, the final demise of the middle class will be inevitable. There will be millions more people joining me and the other impoverished victims for endless pain and suffering. Maybe the fools will come to realize that they have been betrayed. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!

I ran into Kevin, the burly homeless guy, at the bookstore in the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Ala Moana Center this morning. He was totally inebriated. Aside from that, same ol' "No Time for Holidays" shit.

Breaking News! The Obama fool has been re-(s)elected. Four more years of the same ol' shit. Woe is us!

Collections

"You will find good fortune in love." -- Panda Express® fortune cookie

Usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Nothing to report. Back at Slob Manor (read: rental housing), I am still purging useless "knick-knacks" (for lack of a better term). Stuff just needs to go. If anything actually needs replacement, a disposable equivalent will be chosen.

We humans sure spend a lot of time collecting junk, most likely an offshoot of one or more of the "immortality narratives." By the time most people become senior citizens, they have a house full of crap collected over decades. When they eventually pass on, their junk is either discarded or donated to charity. There is no legacy.

Even the homeless are not immune. Take my homeless buddy, for example. He spends nearly all of his waking hours engaged in downloading thousands of movies and music from torrent sites, storing all of them on multiple portable hard drives. What's the sense? Slob Manor's "chef" has been renting hundreds of DVDs and "ripping" them onto writable DVDs for his library. Little does the fool know that writable DVDs deteriorate after five years. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa! By contrast, the small remnant of the once massive hurdy-gurdy video library (HGVL) is stored on a flash drive (which will remain intact well over ten years without constant read-write activity). Foolishness nonetheless.

Purge

My recent "flashbacks" have been a purging of sorts, a final reconciliation with the failed "civilization" paradigm and its expectations of the serf class. I have had to part ways with many flawed beliefs. Now, I am essentially stripped of everything that purported to give me some kind of meaning and purpose in the general scheme of things.

Meaning and purpose are entirely individual constructs anyway. Meaning and purpose to one person may be totally frivolous to another. All in all, we humans define meaning and purpose within the framework of the "immortality narratives." Once the framework has been disproven, there is a sense of being stripped naked. That, of course, forces us to deal entirely with the present moment. Everything else is either relegated to fading memory or seated in anxiety of infinite uncertain outcomes somewhere in the future.

I dropped off the last of my useless crap at the charity donation bin at the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala this evening. The useless cell phone was amongst the items. I am down to nearly nothing. Most of the homeless have much more than I (aside from the truck and the detestable "condotel" unit). I feel naked and vulnerable, although I also feel somewhat less enslaved.

Yesterday, I looked back at my life and summarized it as a failure. My evaluation criteria were the "immortality narratives." Today, I realized that I cannot subjectively evaluate my life. It transpired in the fashion of flawed beliefs. So, what happens next?

The only tangible and universal human purpose is procreation. The ol' lavahead failed at that as well since he is detestable to babes. However, why would he desire to bring new humans into existence, only to have them suffer the same terminal fate?

On a side note, I performed the detestable monthly financial transactions on my tablet computer without a hitch. I am confident that I will not need anything else but the tablet computer from this point forward.

Flashback

I have been experiencing a lot of "flashbacks," snippets of memories from the past. All of the snippets have been related to some kind of foolishness that I was engaged in. There's no question in my mind that I have essentially wasted most of my life in frivolity. Regrets? Of course! I can't even say that any of the "flashbacks" were worthy of mention.

Imagine most of an entire lifetime spent engaged in incredibly stupid behavior. Lots of time and money wasted. Lots of embarrassing moments. Many risks to good health. Many "burned bridges." Nothing accomplished except general stupidity. Yeah, lots of failures. The "blog" only chronicles the time period that I came to my senses, sort of. What more can be said?

On a side note, I ran into Professor Cathrin along Fort Street Mall this afternoon. She and Professor Brian (her husband) are still teaching at the Diploma Mill. Aside from the usual trivia, she mentioned that both of them had recent bouts with cancer. I was quite shocked since they are both still in their forties.

Food Fodder

Food is still a sore issue. I am just not able to realize a workable and affordable diet. With that said, I am cutting back on granola consumption because of decreasing quality. I will increase the amount of whole fresh fruit that I eat daily from one to two or more. I have also added expensive energy bars and kefir to my diet. Most of the alleged "healthy" food that I have been eating are "boosted" with vitamins and minerals. Not good, but there are no other options. Nearly all of the other available food is composed of chemical fillers and high fructose corn syrup (HFCS). Keeping the stomach full also means increasing its girth. So, I am stuck with less caloric intake and more "boosts." In other words, more hunger pains, but no malnutrition.

Divestiture of useless crap is going along at a good clip. I will be decommissioning the cell phone this weekend. I will add it to the small package of stuff that is scheduled for the charity donation bin on Sunday. I really have no idea about why I feel the need to amass useless possessions and collect useless junk. For example, I purchased Ernest Becker's book, "Denial of Death," but it is now the only book that is in my library. Why do I need it? Yeah, it will probably end up donated as well. After three annual tsunami evacuations, I have finally come to see the folly of my ways.

The tablet computer continues to suffer from various regressions from the last update. "Apps" are freezing up. The Web browser has become a burden to use. There will be no fix, of course, since it's at end-of-life. There is still about a four-month wait before the update to an entirely new operating system. I'm not really complaining. There's even less incentive to rely on the computers. Oh yeah, usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Nothing to report.

Homeless Fodder

I ran into my homeless buddy, the first time in nearly a week. He's been spending the weekends at the old guy's condo in Waikiki, the place that he was originally offered to rent a room. He simply keeps the old guy company as a trade. The remaining days are still spent at the Next Step homeless shelter. My homeless buddy also mentioned that there are quite a few open cubicles available. Many of the homeless just can't seem to obey the rules. He urged me to reconsider applying for a spot. I also learned that the residents can check in as late as 10pm on weekdays. Weekends and holidays have more flexible options.

I am still continuing to divest useless crap with vigor, thanks to the last tsunami scare. Currently, I am focusing on small "knick-knack" (for lack of a better term) items. I no longer desire to waste any more time in organizing or packing the junk. I have crap stacked up on my squalid desk in my squalid room in Slob Manor (read: rental housing), all being readied for distribution within a few days. Good riddance!

On a side note, I completed the perusal of two books: "Runaway Girl: Escaping Life on the Streets, One Helping Hand at a Time," by Carissa Phelps (with Larkin Warren), and "Degree Mills: The Billion-dollar Industry That Has Sold Over a Million Fake Diplomas," by John Bear (with Allen Ezell).

Day of Samhain 2012

Another beautiful full moon. Red star reminder. Gateway to the universe and truth. Day of Samhain. Pure nonsense. Might I suggest viewing the appropriate flick, "The Breed," in celebration. Or, "Ultraviolet," is pretty good, too. Check both of them out on the Crackle® site.


Typical Samhain Hottie
The den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala was the scene of a frenzied Day of Samhain celebration, mostly for families. Of course, the sordid celebration in Waikiki this evening will be worse. Fortunately, I won't be at the latter event.

On a side note, I espied a homeless guy in the Honolulu Stadium Park with his mobile home (read: shopping cart) yesterday. He had a surfboard strapped on top. Strange things.

Fear of a Senior Citizen Planet

Senior citizens everywhere. I have been steadily observing them for several months now. I have already reported my observations concerning the stages of decrepitude in the "blog." Let me not belabor the point.

Long story short, I am already a member of the senior citizenship. As such, I will be perfectly honest. I am not altogether certain that I can grow old gracefully. Frankly, "gracefully" is a subjective and pejorative term. I am already not liking what I see in the mirror. What happens when my entire body resembles a shriveled prune with huge old man blemishes discoloring most of my skin? What will I do when I see my atrophied muscles literally hanging from a grossly deformed skeletal structure? Will I be able to even see anything while wearing the hideous "snorkel mask" sunglasses so popular with senior citizens? And, what happens when my mind deteriorates?

Don't believe me? Take off your senior citizen filters and take a good look around. Observe them closely for an extended period of time. That's you pretty soon. Not liking what you see? So, now you know where I stand. I am certain that most people want to remain alive as long as possible, even if in varying states of decrepitude. I used to think the same way. Now, I am wondering whether the best time to "kick the bucket" is right before the stages of decrepitude commence, that is, before the real pain and suffering begins.

Incidentally, the senior citizens that we are accustomed to seeing in public are the minority. The vast majority reside in hospitals and hospices in vegetative states. They are hidden from us. They are essentially cadavers being slowly mummified by endless streams of prescription medications. There is no way that I could live (term used loosely) like that.

On a side note, have you viewed the flick, "Ninja Cheerleaders," on the Crackle® site? It is my new favorite. Great flick! Great fun!

So, Here I Am

The tablet computer has become much more difficult to work with because few of the important Web sites are designed for a touchscreen interface. I had previously gone through several test runs. The results seemed satisfactory. Now, I'm not so sure. The worst problem appears to be the embedded JavaScript. Lots of lags and crippled functionality. Oh well. All the more reason to minimize my computer usage. Mummification would be even better.

After the last tsunami evacuation, I have identified more useless possessions for immediate divestiture. Anything that impeded a swift evacuation is a candidate. Coincidentally, the downsizing and streamlining are optimal for the homeless life-style.

So, here I am. No friends. No babes. Virtually no family. No hobbies. No sports. No interests. No hurdy-gurdy video library (HGVL). No computer, just a limited tablet computer. No "smartphone." Soon, no cellphone. Very few material possessions. I am extremely close to no distractions. That's the goal.

No distractions? No possessions? What's the point? That's only the first step. Next, I must mummify all future-oriented thinking. Anything or any event beyond right now is irrelevant. It, like the past, does not exist. Oh yeah, usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Nothing to report.

Another False Alarm

I was in the process of composing the "blog" on my tablet computer in the bookstore at the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala last night when I overhead an older woman chatting on her cellphone about the tsunami. Say what? I quickly searched for any news on the Net. Sure enough. The warning had been in effect since 7:30pm. Yet there had been no announcements. I hastily posted a haphazard entry. Then, I stepped outside. The warning sirens were blaring away.

Long story short, I quickly made my way to the bus stop. There were several people waiting, including the older woman who was earlier conversing on her cellphone. She and another person ended up in a conversation with me. They did not know much about the situation, so I filled them in. We also had to be on the bus arriving at 8:19pm because the main road would be closed in about an hour. We were relieved when the bus arrived on time.

At Slob Manor (read: rental housing), I was able to load up most of my possessions into my truck within 20 minutes. Then, I was off to higher ground in Hawai'i Kai. I ended up at my bro's place. The emergency refuge shelters had not even been set up yet. Can you believe it? At 1:30am, the roads were reopened and I was on my way back to the dump.

Alan returned to the dump before me. We ended chatting for over 30 minutes. I was wide awake, so I piddled around until 3am. The tsunami? A no-show. Obviously, the usual Sunday itinerary had to be modified because I had a really late start, two hours later than usual. Otherwise, same ol' shit.

Although I was able to expedite the evacuation of my useless possessions, there is still room for improvement. I left a lot of stuff behind, but that is irrelevant. The new gym bag came in quite handy. What is most important is that I need to have more crap packed away instead of lying around. In other words, I need to be more like a true homeless guy.

On a side note, Alan mentioned that he did believed that the "chef" was somewhat of a dimwit. Yeah, I supposedly mummified the Slob Manor stories. I couldn't resist. Apparently, the light bulb in the fridge burned out a couple of weeks ago. The "chef" apparently went berserk because he thought that the fridge stopped functioning. He even called the landlord in a panicked state. What a maroon!

Nice Day for a Tsunami (Again)

Composing the "blog" with the tablet computer is somewhat painful, even with the predictive keyboard. That's by design. After all, I already offered "last rites" for the "blog" over a month ago. My overall goal is to put the squeeze on all distractions until they are mummified. Distractions mean nothing to me, especially after I determine that they have simply been a waste of time.

I have made the shocking discovery that every activity, every accomplishment, every task that I have engaged in has been a waste of time. However, don't judge me. You may have found your niche that provides you with meaning and purpose. Congratulations! I have not been so fortunate.

Breaking News! Another tsunami warning is in effect because of an earthquake off the coast of British Columbia. As of 7:30pm HST, there appears to be another mandatory evacuation of coastal areas. I will be departing the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala as soon as possible. You know the drill.

Post No. 2,371

Usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Nada to report. Time seems to be standing still. Of course, that's always when the trouble begins.

The homeless situation is at a standstill. Stupid questions still keep popping up in my mind after the last discussion with my homeless buddy. Will I be able to pull off the ruse? How can I use my Waterpik®? Will I be able to leave the Next Step homeless shelter on an outing after dinner? Blah, blah, blah. Then, there are the issues of theft and other crimes. And, what about my Nissan® Frontier truck? Yeah, my homeless buddy seems to have discovered the darker side of living in a homeless shelter.

The netbook is on its way to its new owner, Mr. Ray in Washington State. I am now restricted to my tablet computers and their associated limitations. My goal has been to decrease my dependence on computers. So far so good. Although I carry one of the tablet computers with me daily, I rarely deploy the device. That's normally reserved for my evening outings. Long story short, I have successfully decreased the amount of available time to compose the "blog" (amongst other benign activities). The implications are obvious. Incidentally, I have no plans to purchase another netbook or notebook computer again.

Even though the netbook has been divested, there is still a lot of useless crap lying around. Volume-wise, nothing has changed. I seem to keep purchasing more junk that simply becomes obsolete within a few weeks. Looks like another donation to charity is upcoming. Could the need for junk fall in line with one of the "immortality narratives"?

On a side note, I have been consuming psyllium as a supplement to reduce cholesterol for a number of years. I believe that I am now suffering from some of the contraindications, primarily intestinal blockage. If the symptoms don't disappear in a week or so, I will probably have to visit the clinic again. The symptoms are most likely being exacerbated by old age.

Legacy of Mortality

Certainly, the most profound quote that I have found from the book, "Immortality," by Stephen Cave:

... we have seen that by taking the fear of death at face value, all four immortality narratives exacerbate the very attitudes that underpin that fear. Bt encouraging people to obsess about their own health, or the state of their own soul, or their particular legacy, they encourage the very self-centered, future-oriented and negative view that caused the fear in the first place.

Are most of our activities just a waste of time? Worthy of some thought, eh?


Typical Legacy Hottie
I am continuing with the downsizing and divestiture of my worldly possessions. Yeah, I keep repeating myself. However, in thinking of the immediate future, I must be prepared to leave the dump known as Slob Manor (read: rental housing) very soon, or at least before anything adverse happens to moms. I already know that such an event would be able to trigger a violent homicidal response from myself toward any perpetrator of stupidity in my path. What might be marginally tolerable now will be unacceptable then. I have already been experiencing intrusive and graphic homicidal ideations. Had I possessed a 9mm semi-automatic pistol, there might already have been a heinous crime committed. I would be composing the "blog" from an incarcerated point-of-view. A sad legacy indeed.

Mortal Memories

Another three weeks has elapsed, so the hair on the oversized cranium has grown out. I really looked like a shabby senior citizen. So, I was compelled to restore my extreme monk haircut. Much better now!


Typical Memorable Hottie
Shocking news. My long-term memory appears to have faded into obscurity. I have been attempting to invoke memories of the past, but to no avail. I can recollect very little of my childhood, adolescence, early adulthood, and middle age. Only bits and pieces. Without long-term memory of my past, how do I even know who I am? My short-term memory is also suffering. I am becoming senile. If it wasn't so pathetic, it would be laughable. Unlike other senior citizens, though, I am not going to be frantically playing with crossword puzzles or "brain exercises" as a remedy.

I ran into my homeless buddy at the library this morning. He mentioned that there are at least seven openings at the Next Step homeless shelter. He is also selling his minivan next week for $2,000 or so. Thus, he had to acquire a large rental storage unit to entomb his voluminous possessions that were stored in the minivan. He also told me that he is taking cholesterol and blood pressure reduction medication, which is why he can sleep so well while in close proximity to 200 other homeless people. Sheesh!


Scene from "Ninja Cheerleaders"
On a side note, I viewed the flick, "Ninja Cheerleaders," on the Crackle® site last night. Three hotties doing a lot of ass-kickin'. And, George Takei (from the original "Star Trek" series) starring as Hiroshi. Great flick! Great fun!