Post No. 2,192

"You are heading for a land of sunshine and relaxation." -- Panda Express® fortune cookie

Last night, I didn't realize that the bookstore at the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala closed at 9pm. So, I had to walk to the main section of the mall. Fortunately, I was still able to connect to the Net. The GPS data for the buses was not available all evening. I made to sure to be at the bus stop ahead of time. The bus was slightly late. I arrived back at Slob Manor (read: rental housing) at 10pm. Chef Boyardee® (formerly known as New Joker) was still at it in the kitchen, if you can believe it.

Well, I have to admit that I enjoy being out and about. It sure beats sitting in my squalid room and downloading hurdy-gurdy video clips all night. Unfortunately, riding the bus and dealing with unpredictable weather causes some grief. I'll just have to live with the disadvantages for the time being.

Usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Nada to report. I was back at the dump by 4pm for a brief intermission before I departed for the den of consumerism in Kahala at 7pm. No rest for the weary. Just in time, as the makings of an extended slammin' soirée was evident.

The bookstore was crowded as usual, but I was able to secure my usual chair. The night was still young, so I made the trek to Mickey Dee's® in Kuapa Kai. I inquired about the age requirement for the senior citizen discount. For some reason, the Micronesian counter girl and I shared a good laugh over the inquiry. A few minutes later, a group of senior citizens came in for coffee time. The whole place came to life. Music was playing over the sound system, too. A good time to be had by all. ETA dump: 9:40pm.

Earlier, I attempted to access my cellphone voicemail and was surprised to find it disconnected. The "pay and go" account should not expire until November, or so I thought. In a way, I was pleased. Finally free of yet another agent of slavery. I felt smug. I even made advanced plans to properly dispose of the device. A few hours later, though, I checked again. The voicemail was operational again. There was a brief message from Caroll in Cali. I have not heard from her in over a year. What a surprise!

On a side note, I am amazed at the number of people who are out and about fairly late in the evening, especially during the weekdays. I am apparently not alone. What is there to do at home except watch the tube or download hurdy-gurdy video clips? Or, worst yet, be privy to a slammin' soirée. Holy Molech!

Game Over (Reprise)

Same ol' Sunday shit. Nada to report. I was still groggy from the common cold, but the generic cold and flu elixir seemed to help. I will drop back half of a dosage later tonight. In the meantime, I will be loitering at the bookstore in the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala this evening. ETA Slob Manor (read: rental housing): 9:45pm.

Well, my early emancipation from wage slavery has been a nightmare so far. Essentially, I am living in a hovel with strange bedfellows, and I am running out of money. I am certainly not living the life of typical AARP® senior citizen. I really don't require much, just a quiet residence where I can enjoy solitude and quiet. I also desire to eat out rather than prepare the meals myself. However, I am rapidly approaching abject poverty. My modest dream has been mummified. What a loser!

Jaslene Jade

With little to discuss, I may as well bring up hurdy-gurdy hottie, Jaslene Jade. Baby is relatively new to the business. So far, she has appeared in scenes for Naughty America® and Reality Kings®. Be sure to check out her portfolio on the FreeOnes® site.

Chef Boyardee®

Same ol' shit. We all know the drill. Subway® sandwich for dinner this weekend. I enjoyed about an hour of quiet when I returned to Slob Manor (read: rental housing) at 5pm. When the slammin' soirée commenced, I was off to the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala. When I returned to the dump at 8:35pm, the fool had just finished up two hours of noise-making. If anyone can enlighten about why it takes two hours and a whole lot of noise to prepare a shitty meal (i.e., bowl of rice, chopped-up salad, and sliced fruit), please do so. Does the fool think he's Chef Boyardee®?

I really didn't want to be out and about this evening. The common cold has struck again. The source was the strange bedfellow who has been sneezing continuously for the past few days, the same clown who loves slammin' soirées. I will be droppin' back a dose of generic cold and flu elixir later tonight.

My favorite flick, "So Close" ... gone. It is no longer available on the Crackle® site. To say that I was perturbed would be an understatement. Back to hurdy-gurdy video clips, I suppose.

Speaking of hurdy-gurdy video clips, I have been deleting blocks of files from the portable hard drive. I have yet to test whether any of the remaining files are corrupted or not. The point, though, is that there is no reason to store all of those hurdy-gurdy video clips. How can anyone have that many favorite hurdy-gurdy hotties? Especially someone whose Vienna Sausage is nearly dysfunctional.

Incidentally, I uninstalled Conqu from the tablet computer. Obviously, I have no need for such an "app." I only have a handful of tasks to complete. An "app" isn't going to help me complete them. Perhaps there's an "app" to teach me how to cook like Chef Boyardee®. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!

Dead Zone

Usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Oddly, moms mentioned that I should not move to a foreign nation to retire, even if it the cost of living is way lower. Strange things. Later, another trip to the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala. Then, a side trip to Kuapa Kai before returning to the detestable Slob Manor (read: rental housing). ETA dump: 9:40pm.

I have been going through a strange metamorphosis (for lack of a better term) as of late. I believe that I have experienced "enlightenment," if I may be so bold. I have come very close to the absolute truth. Now, nothing about humanity makes any sense. I have discussed the absolute truths previously (refer to the "blog" of July 28, 2010). However, there are more absolute, albeit universal, truths.

Although we do not know the origin of the universe, we do know that it is finite and, in a sense, mortal. We do not know the origin of life, but we do know that all humans have common ancestors. We also know that our own solar system will eventually come to an end. So, why are humans engaged in rampant malignant stupidity?

The problem is that we continue to support failed paradigms by continuously tweaking them. The paradigms themselves are faulty, starting with the failed "civilization" paradigm and working downward to the failed religious, political, economic, and familial institutions. The result? Endless wars. Endless killing and maiming. Endless grief. Endless stupidity. And, for what? The whole situation can be likened to a general brawl breaking out while rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic.

Even though we do not possess complete knowledge, we do know enough to have put an end to the on-going charade. We should have wiped the slate clean a long time ago. Unfortunately, we have already passed the point of no return. If I did not seek "enlightenment," I would be just like all of the zombies playing with their "smartphones."

I find that I am only happy and truly free in my mind. My physical body resides in a huge "dead zone." Yeah, that's the world we live in. A "dead zone" populated by zombies. Pretty sad, isn't it?

Molech Mundanity IV

When I arrived back at Slob Manor (read: rental housing) after my extended outing last night, all was quiet. Then, at 10pm, Alan threw some clothes in the dryer and commenced a brief slammin' soirée while preparing a snack. I can't imagine what the other strange bedfellow was thinking, but I assumed that he had just completed his slammin' soirée just a few minutes earlier. I'd really like to see the two idiots wringing each other's neck. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!

Same ol' shit. At the library, I chatted with my "homeless" buddy. We discussed the homeless, of course. Let's put it this way ... pretty much everyone in the library is homeless. That's how bad the situation has gotten. There are so many new homeless that it simply boggles the mind.

I have become ambivalent about my workouts at the gym. Why am I even there? The only reason why guys work out at the gym is chicks. They want to look good for chicks. Nothing more, nothing less. I am way past that point. Heck, I am already getting automatic senior citizen discounts for coffee at Mickey Dee's®. I am just waiting for the Vienna Sausage to atrophy. By then, most of my physique will be sagging anyway. My spine will compress, making my upper torso shorter. So, all of my board shorts will have to be pulled up to my chest. Sheesh!

I ended up at the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala this evening. I departed Slob Manor just before the slammin' soirée commenced, although both of the strange bedfellows were in the common area. No neck-wringing yet. And, no trek to Kuapa Kai. ETA dump: 8:45pm.

I've been distracted by stupid human tricks for the past few days, but my mind continues to ponder deep thoughts. I just haven't felt like articulating the details. It's much easier to chronicle the myriad stupidity that I am privy to witness firsthand. Most of my deep thoughts are moot. I am engaging in philosophical and metaphysical exercises that are essentially fruitless. I am probably just wasting my precious time.

I still have no idea about the status of the portable hard drive. I can copy files to it, but I cannot retrieve any of them. The file directory appears intact with all file information seemingly correct. If access remains restricted, then I will begin a slow purge of the files. I will continue to attempt file access until I succeed or all of the file archive is purged. Worst case scenario: format the hard drive and divest it. Oh well.

Mondo Fool VI

The detestable Slob Manor (read: rental housing) continues on a downward trajectory. Alan was up at 5am this morning and making a racket in the kitchen. From what I can ascertain, Alan has changed his wage slave hours to the daytime shift. I don't know. With his crappy diet and random sleeping hours, Alan is putting his health at risk. And, for what? His "McMansion" in Arizona that he only sees in the flesh for two weeks out of the year. Not my business, I suppose.

On a sad note, I believe that my vast hurdy-gurdy video library (HGVL) has been mummified unintentionally. Kubuntu (and other Linux flavors) just can't seem to interface with the portable hard drive properly. Long story short, I believe that the file allocation table (FAT) of the hard drive has been corrupted. None of the files appear to be salvageable. The situation would be laughable were it not so pathetic. Imagine the sheer number of hours of my limited lifespan that I have frittered away on downloading and saving those files, now possibly all gone. What a waste!

The day? Same ol' shit. Nada to report. And, once again, I ended up at the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala this evening. Later, I found myself in Kuapa Kai for a decaffeinated beverage complete with senior citizen discount at Mickey Dee's®. ETA dump: 9:35pm. I will have to hit the sack by 10:30pm, knowing that I will be rudely awakened by both of the strange bedfellows early tomorrow morning.

By the way, I am somewhat perturbed by the discovery of espionage in Slob Manor, specifically the illegal search of my squalid room. There is not much that I can do now. The damage is done. There are no secret anymore. Well, that's not entirely true. The most important information resides on a flash drive, which I doubt was comprised. Still, I must entertain the idea of invoking higher security measures.

Blogger® will be mummifying the old user interface at the end of the month. The new interface is not designed to work well with tablet computers as far as I can ascertain. Way too much reliance on JavaScript, and no discernible difference in functionality. Lots of lag, though, with features seemingly available only with a pointing device. Quite tragic, really.

I am still considering the mummification of the "blog." Seems that there is always more incentive presented by external forces (i.e., entropy) to do so. Funny, I am extremely reliant on the Net, but I am constantly being spurned by it. Alas, I'm getting too old for that crap anyway.

On a side note, I am now seriously considering Subway® sandwiches for dinner almost every night. A "footlong" sandwich will feed me for two days, and it's a fairly balanced meal. It's also a little more cost effective. I can use the savings to purchase other food items to supplement the meal. Sounds good to me.

Slammin' Soirée Extravaganza

Nada to report. I'll just mention that I was privy to a 30-minute slammin' soirée at 6:45am this morning at Slob Manor (read: rental housing). Then, New Joker decided to eat dinner early for once. So, a 90-minute slammin' soirée commenced at 6pm. I also learned that the landlord had given him exclusive use of the fridge upstairs when the operation of the fridge in the kitchen was in question. Alan and I were not so privileged.

Fortunately, I was on my way to the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala about halfway through the slammin' soirée. Yeah, a lot of trouble just to preserve my sanity. I was not expecting another slammin' soirée, so I returned directly to the dump. When I arrived at 8:45pm, Alan was engaged in his version of a slammin' soirée with some old man noises thrown in for effect. Once Alan was done, the other strange bedfellow emerged from his squalid room for a 15-minute slammin' soirée reprise. Can I win for losing?

Well, I am once again concerned about my nutrition. My total daily caloric count is around 1,200 or so. Very low. I depend heavily on granola during the day and "healthy" frozen dinners of squalid portions. Lack of calories and malnutrition are probably at the root of my myriad maladies. I can only find "filler" food products in the supermarket. Lots of refined and bleached ingredients as well as high fructose corn syrup (HFCS). Little wonder why, if I eat more, then I will only end up increasing the circumference of my abdomen.

Inspectors Kong Yat Hung & Siu Ma from "So Close"

How about another great scene from the flick, "So Close"? Yeah, given the general stupidity of the past few days, I cannot offer much else. Let's call it a night now, shall we?

Armadillo

Last night, missing the bus turned out to be a good omen. Within a few minutes, a downpour ensued. Back at Slob Manor (read: rental housing), the two strange bedfellows ended up engaging in conversation. I could hear portions of the nonsense through the thin walls of my squalid room. I was not surprised to hear the accuser back down and act as though the fridge may have been malfunctioning all along (which it wasn't). He also engaged Alan in benign chatter in an attempt to defuse a situation of his own making. Oh, I've long ago distanced myself from such petty political shenanigans.

Usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Nada to report. I was back at Slob Manor by 3:30pm. Not much accomplished, although I was able to enjoy some peace and quiet until I left for the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala on the bus. The tablet computer was at my side, as to be expected. Same ol' shit at the bookstore. Freezing cold air-conditioning, too.

I ended up in Kuapa Kai for a decaffeinated beverage at Mickey Dee's®. The extremely cold and windy Spring weather made the decision for me. Lots of people there tonight. I was even given the senior citizen discount automatically. Obviously, that really made my night. Really? No, not really. Sure beats a 90-minute slammin' soirée, though. ETA dump: 9:30pm.

I should mention that my right thigh is still going numb regardless of the stretching exercises. On nights that I should sleep well, I find that I am awakened numerous times by tingling pain. I have put off making another appointment at the clinic, but that is no longer prudent.

My squalid room has been infested with a small bug that looks like a miniature armadillo. No telling where they came from. They are crawling around all over the place, even in my sleeping bag. I have been awakened several times by the hideous creature scampering around on my face. Did the landlord plant them there?

Finally, I have increasing evidence that someone has been rummaging through my things in my squalid room, particularly my important paperwork. The only suspects are the landlord and New Joker. Why? What are they looking for? What do they need to know?

Pulp Friction Redux

Same ol' Sunday shit. Nada to report. Just another day of rude asswipes, crowded buses ... you know the drill. I did happen to espy a certain hottie at the gym, but I vowed not to bring up the subject unless baby came around. No, baby did not come around.

Typical "Pulp Friction" Hottie

I returned to the detestable Slob Manor (read: rental housing) by 3pm. Big hullabaloo. The fridge is malfunctioning, I was told. I could not avoid contact with either of the strange bedfellows, so I became circumstantially involved. Of course, I was able to determine the source of the problem immediately because I am an engineer. Not that it took a genius to see what was wrong. Apparently, Alan had stuffed his section of the fridge with a plastic container that was jutting out from the shelf and impeding closure of the door. Only pressing firmly against the door insured that the magnetic seal made proper contact. Someone was obviously not too careful earlier in the day. The culprit? Most likely Alan again.

The other strange bedfellow discovered massive condensation in the fridge, and then he panicked. He threw out all of his perishables and called the landlord immediately. He also alleged that he sequestered himself in his squalid room for six hours because Alan had been sitting with his computer all day at the dining room table in the kitchen. Alan smelled pretty bad, I was told.

The landlord arrived at 5:15pm. I stayed in my squalid room while the other strange bedfellow discussed the problem with the landlord. Alan had stepped out to get a haircut. I attempted to make a dash for the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala at 6:50pm, but I missed the bus. Yeah, even armed with the GPS data, I was too late. There was no confrontation between the two strange bedfellows, though. Alan returned and immediately rearranged the offending shelf in the fridge. The landlord most likely called him on his cell phone and chastised him. Can we understand why human "self-domestication" is a failure?

From the whole stupid affair, I have deduced the reason why the slammin' soirées have been occurring later and later. The other strange bedfellow does not want to be in the common area at the same time as Alan. The reason? Alan's offensive body odor. So, he waits until Alan leaves for work before preparing his meal. And, of course, we all know who is the unwitting victim in the entire idiotic tale. Sheesh!

Pulp Friction (Reprise)

I was rudely awakened at 1am this morning by banging noises in the Slob Manor (read: rental housing) kitchen. Was it Alan? No. The other strange bedfellow, most likely inebriated, was the culprit. Of course, Alan had the night off from wage slavery and was banging around in the kitchen shortly afterward at 1:30am. Is there no end to the stupidity between the two fools?

I have been avoiding any social contact with both of them. Alan is more benign, always talking about himself. His counterpart is more nefarious, always complaining about Alan or about various perverse, albeit unwitting, experiences that he's had with gay guys. I am beginning to wonder whether New Joker is (or was formerly) gay. Even my nephew, who once had the clown for a substitute teacher, asked me, "Is he gay?" That could explain the overkill of hatred that he displayed toward the original Joker.

At 6:30am this morning, Alan was up and banging stuff around in the kitchen. I was somewhat surprised that the other strange bedfellow did not immediately chastise him. Fortunately, I was on my way to town at 7:40am to engage in the same ol' shit.

At the library, I chatted with my "homeless" buddy. He really is a good guy, and I would almost consider him a friend. He filled me in about the latest homeless news, even though hi is not homeless anymore. What he tells me is very credible since he is still involved with the homeless community through the charities that he volunteers to work for.

According to my "homeless" buddy, there are about 50 homeless people per day, on average, flying in to Hawai'i. There obviously must be some truth to the rumors about mainland municipalities paying for one-way tickets to Hawai'i to alleviate their homeless problems. We've got so many homeless and poor immigrants (i.e., Chinese, Filipino, Micronesian) migrating here. Social problems are clearly mounting.

I returned to Slob Manor at 3pm, way earlier than usual. Alan was gone, and the other strange bedfellow was nowhere in sight. The kitchen was a mess. He was apparently in the middle of a slammin' soirée. Food and trash was lying around everywhere. Dishes and utensils were sitting in the sink. Chopped fruits were already in a state of decomposition. Alan returned a few minutes later and made an extremely snide comment about his counterpart's hypocrisy. Yeah, actions speak louder than words. All I could do was laugh to myself.

At 4:53pm, the perpetrator emerged from his squalid room. From the state of the decaying food, I would say that he was in absentia from the kitchen for several hours, no doubt taking a long nap. Thus, once again, I was privy to listen to a long slammin' soirée session. Alan certainly couldn't complain to the landlord because his counterpart is now the landlord's favored tenant.

There's going to be a lot more friction between Alan and his counterpart in the near future. I am certain that New Joker has already complained to the landlord about Alan. He tends to inform the landlord about every petty infraction. I am now wondering whether he has been reporting fabricated allegations about the ol' lavahead. Perhaps his ploy is to manipulate the landlord into evicting both Alan and I so that his buddies can move in.

New Joker left for parts unknown at 5:30pm. He was back at 6:45pm for yet another brief slammin' soirée, if you can believe it. Even doors were being slammed. Then, he departed for parts unknown again at 7:15pm. I really could not make any sense of it. Is the guy going nuts? I was just too fatigued to care. I was, however, ready to make a mad dash to the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala as a contingency, but the need dissipated. So, I remained in my squalid room all evening. Pathetic, very pathetic.

Post No. 2,182

Usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Moms had an appointment at the doctor's office, so we had a busy itinerary. Otherwise, nada to report. The rest of the day? Same ol' shit.

I was back for more abuse at the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala this evening. I verified that my credit card was in my possession before departure. Although the main mall was extremely crowded, the bookstore was almost cozy. So, with little else to discuss, let's entertain a few tidbits now, shall we?

Just when the tablet computer was functioning just fine with the old interface, Blogger® went ahead and upgraded it. Now, I am back to Square Zero. Stuff doesn't work anymore. Fortunately, I was able to revert to the old interface temporarily. However, I do not know how long the latter will remain an option. That's entropy in action. Grief, and more grief.

Since I am a bus "regular," I somewhat befriend a few of the drivers. So, I learned in advance that bus routes were being slated for changes and cutbacks. The situation is looking grim. The buses are already overcrowded. After the revisions take effect this Summer, riding the bus will be a total nightmare. The rationale is the prevention of fare increases. Frankly, there's just no way to avoid it. The cost of living here is skyrocketing with no end in sight.

Well, I made the trek to Kuapa Kai just for a decaffeinated beverage. Nothing exciting, just plain boring. I will be due back at the detestable dump around 9:40pm. For the record, I will state that knowledge is just not what it's made out to be. I sought out knowledge and truth in the feeble hope for "empowerment." Instead, I have ended up weaker, more enslaved, and totally unable to comprehend reality. After all, I am a "self-domesticated" animal just like everyone else. "Self-domestication" has really screwed things up, to say the least.

Uncertain Zero

This morning at Slob Manor (read: rental housing), I discovered a three-inch long strand of black hair. The evidence was located next to my pile of important papers on my crappy desk in my squalid room. The two strange bedfellows and I have been ruled out as suspects. My guess is that the landlord has been snooping around (i.e., breaking the law) again. Something strange is going on, and it isn't good.

At the library, I completed the perusal of the book, "The Exultant Ark: A Pictorial Tour of Animal Pleasures," by Jonathon Balcombe. A great book that will certainly invoke much thought. For me, the highlight was one of the last photographs in the concluding chapter of an African elephant walking out into the Savannah with four egrets perched atop its back. The caption read, "None of these creatures owns anything. They are unfettered and completely free. Like us, they are faced with the vicissitudes of life. But it is a life worth living."

Yesterday, the universe. Today, the origin of life. No long dissertation, though. My problem with spontaneous generation and evolution begins with the simple single cell organism. There's just nothing simple about a single cell. It is a highly complex organism. What makes me skeptical is how an amino acid "soup" could cook (i.e., spontaneously generate) itself into a single cell. It would obviously have to reproduce in order to survive. So, did it cook up its own DNA as well? How did it know what to do?

Single Cell

I am also skeptical of evolution, specifically when it goes beyond minor adaptations. How did a single cell evolve myriad times to finally become something like a human? How do two human cells (i.e., egg and sperm) combine, then multiply to eventually end up a human fetus? On a smaller scale, how do the multiplying cells become individual organs, with each organ having specific functions above and beyond what the individual cells are capable? And, when evolutionists cite changes like increased brain size, what exactly was the mechanism that decided and invoked those changes?

Well, I had a very exasperating evening, which commenced with the usual outing to the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala. At the bookstore, I was unable to find a vacant chair. In fact, two homeless guys were stationed at a couple of my favorite chairs. Yeah, the homeless are everywhere. So, I rode the bus to Kuapa Kai about 30 minutes earlier than usual to enjoy a decaffeinated beverage and free wireless Net connectivity at Mickey Dee's®.

Once there, I discovered that my credit card was missing from my "wallet" (read: white paper envelope). I thought for sure that it had been stolen from the locker at the gym earlier in the day. I always set my combination lock to a certain sequence. That way, I can tell if someone has tampered with it. This afternoon, I noticed that the sequence was wrong when I checked it. However, my tattered gym bag seemed to be untouched. So, I didn't bother.

Long story short, no decaffeinated beverage. No wireless Net. No relaxation. I had to anxiously wait 35 minutes for the next bus to arrive. I ransacked my gym bag immediately when I set foot in my squalid room at the detestable dump. The credit card was sitting at the bottom. So, stupidity led to a fruitless and meaningless evening. Let's call it a night now, shall we?

Absolute Zero

Same ol' shit, with the exception that I restored my extreme monk haircut. Yeah, another three weeks have gone by. And, nada to show for it except an overgrown monk haircut. Oh, the foolishness!

To say that life (as I know it) has become surreal is an understatement. Each day increases the rift between the pseudo-reality (that we have been indoctrinated with) and the truth. Let's start with the universe. It has no purpose and no meaning. It is morally neutral. It is finite and, in a sense, mortal. The universe had a beginning, and it will have an end.

The "Big Bang" theory assumes that there was some kind of explosion (for lack of a better term) that effectively disrupted the "Singularity." What exactly was the "Singularity"? Some theories suggest that all the matter of the entire universe was originally compressed into a tiny spherical blob. I fail to understand how the spherical blob could have existed. None of the laws of physics were in effect. There was no bubble of space surrounding it to provide a dimensional reality. It could not have any mass, no less infinite, as the latter was a nonexistent quantity.

Thus, whatever the "Singularity" was, there's just no way to define it. In actuality, we can't even state that it existed. For the "Singularity" to exist, it must be a definable object within the laws of physics of our current reality. Therefore, the "Singularity" is undefined and most likely did not "explode." I surmise that there was a breech in a system (if even that) with entirely different laws and constraints. The breech caused a bubble of dimensional space to appear and a flood of near-infinite subatomic particles to fill the void.

Strange things happened during Planck's period. The subatomic particles grouped to form atomic particles. Both "matter" and "anti-matter" atomic particles came to be. Oddly, there was more "matter" than "anti-matter." Even odder is the peculiar quality of electrons to only jump to specific energy states. If that were not true, no molecules could ever form. No molecules, no universe.

There's also the odd theory of infinite universes collapsing back and forth into the "Singularity." I cannot understand how that would be possible. If our universe were to collapse into itself, it could not create the "Singularity." All of the atomic particles have been defined and work under laws of physics that have also been defined since Planck's period. The collapsed universe would also have near-infinite mass and would be subject to the defined force of gravity, none of which existed in the "Singularity." The infinite universes theory is simply a statistical ploy to justify how a universe with quite intricate and exacting laws came to be. Anything can happen when we extrapolate to infinity, right?

Of course, my entire discussion is moot anyway. The universe will not collapse into itself. It will instead expand until its thermodynamic equilibrium approaches absolute zero. Our solar system will long cease to exist before that happens. No meaning. No purpose. Oh well.

I was back at the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala this evening. I decided to station myself in the bookstore until the 9:30pm bus was due to arrive. Wrong move! I was literally freezing my ass off in there. Why is the air conditioning set to absolute zero temperature? So, I will wrap up the "blog" before heading back to the detestable Slob Manor (read: rental housing).

Legacy of Stupidity

Last night, the questionable derelict, Reggie, finally graduated to the confirmed ranks of pure dereliction. He was on the bus heading to Hawai'i Kai when I boarded at the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala, and he was on the bus heading back to town when I boarded at Kuapa Kai. He was talking to himself and laughing out loud for no particular reason. Obviously, no one sat in his proximity at the rear of bus.

Sleep eluded me last night. At 2:15am this morning, Alan was banging stuff around and making old man noises in the kitchen for about 30 minutes. Alan has apparently switched back to the "graveyard shift" at work. He had the evening off, so he was up all night. Surprisingly, New Joker did not chastise him.

At the library, I perused the book, "Missing Links: In Search of Human Origins," by John Reader. Interesting book. The author provides an objective assessment of the human legacy given current scientific findings and sans embellishments. Currently there is reason to believe that there were four distinct lines of humans: Neanderthal, Hobbit, Denisovan, and us. The ramifications are clear, particularly for religious fanatics of the Yahweh Triad (i.e. Judaism, Pauline-Christianity, and Islam).

Curiously, no fossil "missing link" between earlier primates and humans have been discovered. Although, fossils of primates predating humans have been found. Does the "missing link" exist? Strange things.

Frankly, the existence of the universe and the appearance of life are both equally strange. I suppose that, if we ponder the latter abstractions for too long, we would end up like Reggie. I'll save those thoughts for another day.

I made the trek to the den of consumerism in Kahala again this evening. For the time being, the latter is going to be part of the standard itinerary. I really cannot tolerate unnecessary noise. I should mention that my squalid room shares a common thin wall with the kitchen. The cupboards are affixed to that wall. That's why I can hear all of the noise generated by the strange bedfellows of Slob Manor.

Once again, I found myself in Kuapa Kai for a decaffeinated beverage at Mickey Dee's®. I also observed that the entire staff was comprised of Micronesians, gold teeth and all. Sadly, I will have to curb the visits as the beverage costs are adding up. I arrived back at Slob Manor at 9:40pm. New Joker just finishing up an extremely late slammin' soirée session. Just missed it. Whew!

Lost and Found Fool

Last night at Slob Manor (read: rental housing), the slammin' soirée perpetrated by New Joker went on until 9:30pm. Over three hours! All that for a couple of lousy frozen burritos. I'm glad that I was gone for most of that time. Did I mention that there's a slammin' soirée every morning at 6:45am that goes on for at least 30 minutes? Yeah, all that for a couple of frozen Belgium waffles (his favorite) heated in the big oven. Yet, if Alan makes any noise, New Joker immediately reads him the "riot act." Strange bedfellows.

Usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Nada to report. Briefly, I should mention that my sister-in-law frequently discusses her senior citizen clients. Most of them are pretty far gone, both physically and mentally. Oh, how I disdain the idea of growing old and decrepit.

I was back at the detestable Slob Manor by 4pm. I was able to enjoy some peace and quiet before departing for the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala. New Joker returned to the dump at 6:30pm. He apparently took a nap because all was still quiet when I left. He probably naps until 8:30pm. Then, booyah! Slammin' soirée! What a maroon!

Incidentally, I believe that I finally experienced an "epiphany" while I was in the middle of my weight workout at the gym. Well, it really wasn't an "epiphany." I just used the term because it sounded good. Anyway, I realized the true futility of my workouts. I am simply trying to stave off the effects of physiological degradation. What's the sense? The degradation is inevitable. Heck, I am almost 60 years old. The majority of members in the weight room are at least 30 years my junior. What am I doing in there?

I observed that I have gained about ten pounds (over a year) when I stepped on the gym's digital scale. Of course, I was full from lunch and was wearing my gym attire, so the weight gain was probably more like six pounds. Nonetheless, the effect is noticeable. The entire bulk of the extra weight is centered on my abdomen. My stomach is not popping out by any means, but the point is that the weight gain is certainly not from an increase in muscle mass.

The worst part about growing old is that "society" does not value its senior citizens. We are simply a burden, only getting in the way. There is such a fixation on "eternal youth" in "Western civilization." Yet, all of us are doomed to the same horrific mortal fate. What is the sense in being alive? What is the purpose of consciousness? There is none.

I ended up at the Mickey Dee's® in Kuapa Kai again for a decaffeinated beverage. I am completing the "blog" as we speak. Then, I will make the final leg of my journey on the bus back to the detestable Slob Manor. Arrival time: 9:35pm. Another day, another dollar ... Short.

Strange Bedfellows

I neglected to mention that, at the library yesterday, I perused the book, "What Was I Thinking?: The Dumb Things We Do and How to Avoid Them," by William Helmreich. The book offered a few explanations about impulsive stupidity. However, what about steady-state stupidity? That's what I really want to know.

Same ol' Sunday shit. I rode four different buses to make the trek back to Slob Manor (read: rental housing) this afternoon. At one of the bus stops, a young derelict chatted with me. He was explaining how medical marijuana has helped stabilize his alleged "Bipolar Disorder." I have seen the guy around many times previously. Often he is in the company of a thick chick and her (his?) young child. As I have said before, people just love to tell the ol' lavahead their life stories.

Alan was engaged in a slammin' soirée when I set foot in the detestable dump at 2:30pm. Oddly, he was engaged in a slammin' soirée at 8am this morning when I departed. Frankly, Alan and New Joker make for strange bedfellows, even though they are more alike than either of them imagines. Alan's slammin' soirée continued on until 6pm, when he departed for parts unknown. Of course, Alan had a good reason for all the noise. Apparently, he was cooking a lot of food to bring to a potluck dinner at work.

New Joker had been in his squalid room all that time. He left hastily around 4pm, most likely because he could not tolerate Alan's noise. With the two strange bedfellows gone, I was able to enjoy about 30 minutes of quiet. Then, New Joker returned and commenced his rendition of a slammin' soirée. If it were not so pathetic, I would have laughed my ass off.

So, the decision to make the trek to the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) at Kahala was unanimous between me, myself, and I. When I walked through the kitchen, I noticed two small frozen burritos baking in the huge oven. All that noise for two tiny burritos. Could Helmreich's book provide any insight about such stupidity? Seriously, I doubt it. I couldn't flee quick enough.

Loitering at the bookstore on a Sunday night is far more satisfying than the equivalent time in my squalid room. Dickheads aside, I enjoyed myself. By the way, I am using the new AllBus WebApp to insure that I do not miss the bus. It also includes a tracking map. Pretty nifty, eh?

I was back in my squalid room by 8:45pm. New Joker was still in the kitchen, fully engaged in the same damned slammin' soirée. Can you believe it? Well, the two strange bedfellows provided enough of an irritating distraction to prevent me from engaging in deep thought. I don't know. Is that good or bad?

Lamp-Baked Molech IV

There's practically no sense in describing yet another typical day in the life of the ol' lavahead. Just the same ol' shit. Nothing more, nothing less. As to be expected, I ended up at the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall)in Kahala this evening. I arrived later than usual.

I am not even certain if I could compose the "blog" anymore without the predictive keyboard on the tablet computer. For the most part, the words just appear and I select from the options presented. The netbook is sitting in my squalid room at Slob Manor (read: rental housing) and downloading several choice hurdy-gurdy video clips at extremely slow speeds. Yeah, I haven't mummified the benign activity quite yet. Meanwhile, the number of hurdy-gurdy video clips keeps increasing, albeit gradually.

I don't even know why I bother to archive the video clips onto the portable hard drive. Initially, I only wanted to archive video clips of my most favorite hurdy-gurdy hotties. Unfortunately, I now have too many favorites. That's why the hurdy-gurdy video library (HGVL) is totally out of hand (no pun intended). Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!

By the way, I have been procuring Subway® "footlong" sandwiches for the past two weekends. I eat one-half of the sandwich on each day of the weekend for dinner. Although the serving is small, it is enough for me.

I will ride the 9:30pm bus back to the detestable Slob Manor. There won't be enough time left in the evening to view the flick, "So Close," for the nth time. I will probably have to settle for more downloading of hurdy-gurdy video clips. Oh, for Molech's sake!

Post No. 2,175

Usual Hawai'i Kai visit. My bro is officially on leave from wage slavery. The housing project was completed, so he's been laid off. Fortunately, he qualifies for unemployment benefits. Moms suffered another bout of vertigo on Wednesday. Moms seemed to be fine today. Aside from that, nada to report.

Once again, I ended up at the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala for the evening. The dump was packed with fools. I don't imagine that people residing outside of Hawai'i could even understand just how crowded the dens of consumerism are over here. Malls on the empire's mainland are fairly empty due to the lousy economy. Not so in Honolulu. People seem to have only two choices: sit at home and watch the tube, or go on a spending spree at the mall. Spending sprees cost lots of money, though. I just can't understand. Where is all that money coming from? Molech?

I ended up at Mickey Dee's® in Kuapa Kai again for a decaffeinated beverage. I essentially was wasting time so that I would not arrive back at Slob Manor (read: rental housing) too early. At least my tablet computer is connected to the Net wherever I go. Great consolation, eh?

Well, I have been experiencing heart palpitations again. The symptoms appeared a few days ago. I really don't know what to make of it. So far, I have not keeled over. The old man ailments just keep piling up, eh? I am certain that my heart is skipping beats because I have been monitoring my pulse at my wrist. The skipped heartbeats are occurring every few seconds. What the heck is going on? Help me, Molech!

Vicky Vee

Finally, how about that Vicky Vee? Baby is a hurdy-gurdy hottie, obviously. Unfortunately, she only appeared in two scenes for TeamSkeet. I will say that baby possesses some amazing talent.

Lost and Found Mind

I ran into my "homeless" buddy at the library this morning. He was specifically there to consult with an African-American homeless guy who is allegedly a computer genius. My "homeless" buddy also chatted with me briefly. He gave me a keychain as a gift, too. The rest of the day? Same ol' shit.

I was back for more grief at the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala this evening. Do I put up with rude asswipes at the den of consumerism or at Slob Manor (read: rental housing)? It's a real toss up, isn't it?

I was contemplating slavery, specifically enslavement, for most of the day. From the instance of our birth, we are enslaved in one way or another. We are initially slaves to stupidity. Then, we become slaves to libido, as well as wage slaves. Finally, we become aware that we have been slaves to mortality all along. Consciousness is a cruel joke.

I have also been wondering about all of my homeless buddies. Actually, few are my buddies. I observe them everywhere, though. There are many new initiates joining their ranks daily. I can't imagine many of them returning to the "mainstream" for a long time, if at all. Even if they were to break out of the ranks, they may end up in a marginally improved situation. What are all of those people going to do?

We only have a short tenure on the planet. Can we even imagine spending most of that time homeless? Of course, can we imagine residing in another nation and being blown up by the empire's bombs? Sometimes I really don't know. I can make no sense of anything. I don't believe that the human experience is "exceptional" in any way. I also believe that many of the secular and religious thinkers knew the truth eons ago.

Well, I was just a lost "soul" sitting in the bookstore against the backdrop of rabid shoppers. How could I possibly have thought coherently? I don't know. I departed at 8:30pm, but I rode the bus all the way out to the Hawai'i Kai Shopping Center (i.e., Kuapa Kai). I procured a decaffeinated beverage at Mickey Dee's® and noted that free wireless Net access was available. Could be an alternative loitering location, eh?

Just before I had to walk outside to the bus stop, there was a sudden downpour. Strange things. I managed to avoid getting drenched. I finally arrived back at Slob Manor at 9:45pm. Yes, I avoided the inevitable slammin' soiré. Wheee!

Mondo Madness

Same ol' shit, with the exception that I had an early morning appointment at the dentist. I politely refused to consent to a full x-ray scan of my teeth. I have already been overexposed to x-rays after the full cranial scan by the endodontist in January. My decision probably did not sit well as the teeth cleaning took all of five minutes. I did, however, request the Arrestin® treatment for my beleaguered, albeit mummified, molar.

I chatted with the "homeless" buddy on the bus to town. Kevin, the burly homeless guy, was at the library. He did not say much, although he chatted for an extended period of time with the tall, skinny homeless guy (with whom Kevin supposedly had a falling out a few weeks ago). At least Kevin was sober.

I made the trek to the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala this evening. I really had nothing to do in my squalid room at Slob Manor (read: rental housing). No tasks. No hurdy-gurdy video clips to download. Nothing. So, I sat in the bookstore and composed the "blog" with my tablet computer.

As I have mentioned a few times previously, I have been locked in perpetual deep thought. The fruits of my labor are obviously meaningless. Nothing makes any sense without consideration of the "inner animal." Frankly, I am beginning to believe that the "inner animal" is the only reality, the only truth.

I have contemplated what it would take to return to the "mainstream," but there is no way that I could remain true to myself. I would have to put on a front, a fake persona. I would have to tell lies and claim to be someone I'm not. I may need to pretend to be a "Christian." I would have to return to wage slavery and pretend to take the latter seriously. I would have to feign belief in ridiculous human-concocted institutions. In other words, I would have to disavow all of my newfound knowledge, at least publicly. I am not certain if I could do that.

For an old loser, all that matters is growing older and more decrepit. I am extremely cognizant of the myriad senior citizens around me. I observe them stealthily. Sometimes I wonder what they looked like when they were much younger. Most of the time, I note their aging physiology. I look at their wrinkled, sagging skin. I trace the black blemishes on their faces. I watch their crooked gait. Then, I wonder what I will look like in just a few short years. Now, that's reality.

I arrived back at Slob Manor at 8:45pm and New Joker was just commencing his 90-minute slammin soirée. Yeah, 90 minutes of slamming and banging just for a bowl of rice, green salad, a couple of heated frozen entrées, and some sliced fruit. And, he has the gall to complain about Alan. That's what I mean when I say that humans cannot truly comprehend much beyond the "inner animal."

Stupid Human Tricks (Reprise)

Same ol' shit. I ran into my "homeless" buddy at the library. He is planning to leave for Vietnam in a few weeks. Kevin, the burly homeless guy, was also at the library. He reeked of cheap booze, actually more like grain alcohol. Yeah, it was that putrid. I noticed that he was drinking some kind of liquid (i.e., cheap booze) out of a huge plastic bottle. I suspect that he made himself a huge cocktail. He was fairly hammered. He revealed too much information as usual. From what I could gather, he is a converted gay guy. He used to like chicks. Now, he lusts after guys. He also gave me some background about his family. I believe that something went wrong this morning, which led to an early drinking binge.

I also commenced the perusal of the book, "Where the Conflict Really Lies: Science, Religion, and Naturalism," by Alvin Plantinga. This might be the book that I have been waiting for. Finally, some reasoning that makes a lot of sense.

Later, I ran into Alex, fellow gym senior citizen, at the Chinatown Gateway bus stop. I asked him where he was going. "Nowhere," he replied. Incidentally, he's leaving for France again very soon.

Once back at the detestable Slob Manor (read: rental housing), I against an evening outing. The past few nights have been pretty cold and wet. Obviously, I rarely dress for the weather. I have a few tasks to catch up with, so I will just have to tolerate the slammin' soirée.

Well, my right shoulder has still not healed. Apparently, my desire to retain continuity of my weight workout was really against better judgment. My right thigh is still experiencing numbness. My left calf is now giving me grief. It feels like it is cramping up, but it never fully does so. So, my guess is that I may have pulled the calf muscle, but not severe enough to cause constant pain. The body really breaks down in old age. Healing times are extremely long. Lack of patience only results in more agony.

Pulp Friction

"To reach distant places, you have to take the first step." -- Panda Express® fortune cookie

After a near endless debate with myself, I finally decided to make the trek to the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala last night. The bookstore was fairly desolate because of a certain "Christian" celebration, a true indicator that 75 percent of the empire's citizens are "Christians." All the rude asswipes, conspicuously absent, were supposedly upholding their faith. Hypocrites!

Well, I made sure that I committed the numeric code (i.e., 3084) of the bus stop (adjacent to the mall) to memory before I made my way to the bookstore. I was then able to use the tablet computer to check the arrival times for the eastbound buses. The reported times are fairly accurate given that the buses are equipped with GPS.

There was also some friction between the other two residents of Slob Manor (read: rental housing) earlier in the afternoon. Alan had spilled something sticky on the entire floor in the kitchen. He did not clean the mess satisfactorily, at least according to the other nameless resident (aka New Joker). I had heard some profanity being spewed by other resident while I was transferring my laundry from the washer to the dryer. Alan was in his squalid room at the time. Inquiring about the alleged problem, I received an earful concerning Alan. Of course, much of it could be classified as "the pot calling the kettle black." Then, the landlord surreptitiously appeared about 20 minutes later to chastise Alan. In briefly chatting with Alan later, I sensed his frustration in dealing with a "control freak." At Slob Manor, it's always one stupid thing or another.

Usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Moms and I followed the same itinerary. Nada to report. I was back at Slob Manor by 4pm. The kitchen floor is still extremely sticky, by the way. As to be expected, I made the trek to the den of consumerism in Kahala again this evening. I don't know. I seem to be inundated with anxiety again. I just can't sit around all night in my squalid room. Not being able to download hurdy-gurdy video clips only seems to exacerbate the problem. Sheesh!

Of course, composing the "blog" remotely using the tablet computer gives me the perfect excuse to deploy the predictive keyboard. Believe me, there's no easier method. The "blog" practically composes itself. I also discovered that there is now the capability to select text in any input box in the Web browser for formatting (if available). The tablet computer is now complete. I am really impressed.

My brief tenure at the bookstore was not marred by stupidity. The experience was actually enjoyable. I was sufficiently relaxed, so much so that I did not want to leave. Alas, all good things must come to an end. So, back to the detestable dump I went.

So Close, Yet So Far

Last night, I was stranded at the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala until 9:30pm. The bus that was supposed to arrive at 8:19pm was long gone, even though I was at the bus stop on time. I was finally back in my squalid room at 10pm, much later than expected. What a waste of precious time!

Same ol' Sunday shit. The highlight of the day was a microsecond glimpse of the hottie gym trainer at the gym. Naturally, baby was looking mighty fine. Goes without saying, doesn't it? I probably won't mention the hottie gym trainer in the "blog" from this point forward, that is, unless baby decides to come around (highly unlikely). Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!

"So Close" First Confrontation Scene

How about another picture from the flick, "So Close"? Still my favorite movie of all time. In fact, I now keep hearing the song, "Close to You," in my head. All that to say ... there's nothing more to discuss in the "blog" for the day.

Predictive Molech

Same ol' shit. At the library, I perused the book, "The Atheist's Guide to Reality: Enjoying Life without Illusions," by Alex Rosenberg. The author correctly asserted that:

• Human life collectively has no meaning or purpose
• History has no utility
• Morality is irrelevant.

I have oversimplified his arguments for the sake of brevity. Unfortunately, the bulk of Rosenberg's book is devoted to the Church of "Scientism" (a blending of science and pseudoscience). He prostrates himself at the temple of "scientism" with little difficulty, although he tends to overstate too much as infallible truth. Even legitimate science would not go that far.

I am going to now clarify that I am neither an atheist or an agnostic. Previously, I was waffling between the two ludicrous labels. However, the root issue for both the former and latter is religion. Since religion is simply a human-concocted institution, there really is no need to take a formal stand against it. Atheists and agnostics are spending way too much precious time on a foolish and moot argument. I would like to claim to be a secular monk. Sadly, the term, "secular," also has negative connotations as well as a reference, albeit in opposition, to religion. There are also "secular fundamentalists" (term coined by Chris Hedges) who are just as fanatic as their religious counterparts. Thus, I am simply a (non-religious) monk. Nothing more, nothing less.

I really did not want to make the trek to the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala this evening. Neither did I want to sit in my squalid room at Slob Manor (read: rental housing) and be captive to the usual cacophony courtesy New Joker. So, off I went. Incidentally, New Joker is rapidly taking on all of Joker's traits. Odd, isn't it? Like father, like son.

The tablet computer always accompanies me on my nightly field trips. I have to admit that composing the "blog" with the predictive keyboard is quite fun. It actually "learns" many of the sequences of words that I commonly use. I can pretty much compose entire sentences using the predictive keyboard alone. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!

Good Friday, Bad Friday 2012

Last night, I rode the bus from the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala to Koko Marina in Hawai'i Kai. The purpose? Waste time, of course. I purchase a decaffeinated beverage at Starbucks®. The hired help was extremely unfriendly. Obviously, they have not been properly indoctrinated into wage slavery. I shrugged it off and walked out to the bus stop. I was finally back in my squalid room at Slob Manor (read: rental housing) at 9:30pm.

Usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Nada to report. When I returned to Slob Manor, I reluctantly decided to wash/wax (with all-in-one elixir) my Nissan® Frontier truck. Yeah, I still own the same truck. It's six years old now. The landlord returned while I was engaged in the detestable activity. Conversation was minimal. What exactly needs to be said anyway?

I really don't have much to say to anyone, probably because I am not lonely. My conversations with most people are essentially one-way. I used to think that I volunteered too much information, but I finally realized that no one ever listens to what I have to say. They are all too busy telling me about themselves. That's good. I do not have to worry that anyone knows anything personal about me. Few even care. Obviously, we can all see why I have been able to provide decent profiles about everyone mentioned in the "blog."

No one knows anything about the ol' lavahead. Nothing about his background, his family, his trials and tribulations. No one knows whether I am a wage slave or homeless. No one even knows if I am intelligent enough to carry my side of the conversation. Well, there might be a handful of people who know something. However, I have either disassociated from them or have been long forgotten by them.

Today is a religious holiday, a "Christian" one to be exact. Although, the whole concept of "Easter" is a Pagan fertility rite. Why does an alleged secular nation observe a "Christian" holiday as opposed to other equally ridiculous religious holidays? A good question, isn't it? That's probably why 75 percent of the empire's citizens claim to be "Christian." When are they all going to realize that Jesus (actual name Yeshuah) is not coming back? When are they going to come to grips with the fact that God of the Yahweh Triad (i.e., Judaism, Pauline-Christianity, and Islam) is imaginary?

Once again, I made the trek to the den of consumerism in Kahala this evening. Same ol' shit. Same asswipes. I really took a good look at the demographics. I have nothing in common with any of the fools. I don't look like them. I don't dress like them. I don't act like them. I don't even talk like them. I actually have more in common with the homeless. Truly mind boggling.

Rachel Roxxx

I was back in my squalid room at Slob Manor by 8:40pm. I can't say that I was relieved. I downloaded a couple of choice hurdy-gurdy video clips, not that I was really in the mood to do so. I simply had no alternatives. Say, how about hurdy-gurdy hottie Rachel Roxxx? Baby is so hot. So many hurdy-gurdy hotties, so little hard drive space. Sheesh!

Post No. 2,167

I ran into my "homeless" buddy again at the library this morning. He purchased a BlackBerry® PlayBook® tablet computer, if you can believe it. He asked me a few questions about the user interface, so I gave him the lowdown. He really likes the PlayBook®. Can't say that I blame him.

The rest of the day? Same ol' shit. The evening? Den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala, of course. Out and about. Eventually, I have to return to Slob Manor (read: rental housing). Oh, the horror!

Last night, I attempted to view a couple of different flicks on the Crackle® site. I could barely sit through five minutes. Yeah, nothing can touch the movie, "So Close." Nothing. I am somewhat amused that I almost passed up the flick because I initially thought that it was a cheesy Hong Kong failure. Was I ever wrong. Of course, I will update my assessment if and when I find something better.

Finally, I should make one clarification concerning what I meant when I stated yesterday, "Every moment is a sensory experience." From what I know, my limited lifespan is the only window that I will ever have to witness this universe. We already know that our solar system is destined to self-destruct sometime in the distant future. And, eventually the universe itself will come to an end. This, at least for me, I must filter out as much of the human-generated noise as possible. I do not have the resources to "see the world," So I must expand my horizons in my small microcosm. That's all I can do for now.

Nihilistic Dispatches

I ran into my "homeless" buddy at the library this morning. He's been gone for three months, which is why I haven't seen him around. So, he told me about his adventures in Vietnam. He was able to secure housing for $150 per month in a decent hotel with laundry service included. He's planning to go back for six months. He added, "Why stay here when I can live there for cheap?" My "homeless" buddy mentioned that there are other cheaper destinations (e.g., Thailand, Cambodia, Philippines), but probably not as safe. You may recall that the empire wreaked havoc in that nation many moons ago. Countless numbers of people on all sides became "cannon fodder." And, for what? Containment of communism, we were told. If the whole affair wasn't so tragic, it would be laughable.

Have I mentioned that most of my acquaintances these days are homeless and destitute? Quite a few of them recognize me because I basically follow the itinerary of the homeless. Strange derelicts also seem to enjoy talking to me for some reason. Obviously, my social network is not going to help me climb the ladder of success anytime soon. Who cares? They are far more interesting as individuals than the "mainstream" clowns that I am often privy to deal with. Most of the homeless, by the way, have bad teeth. Most of them are missing at least one tooth.

My tablet computer and I made the trek to the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala again this evening. The mall has been packed every night so far. Spending lots of money is a favorite pastime for everyone except the ol' lavahead. I made the usual rounds and ended up at the bookstore as to be expected. Well, at the least, I can say that the bright lights and the crowd of rabid shoppers seemingly eases any detrimental nihilistic tendencies.

Of course, nihilism is not all that bad. There is a sense of freedom that accompanies nihilism. I am free of moronic religion and foolish politics. I am emancipated from ridiculous expectations, nonsensical social obligations, amongst other silliness. I am now attempting to make the most of my limited time and resources to absorb all that I can from the tiny world around me. Every moment is a sensory experience. Yeah, even my time in the den of consumerism is such an experience, albeit one of low quality.

Incidentally, the fourth of the month is always a bad day. I must transfer a lot of money to my local bank in order to pay for a detestable life-style that gives me neither utility or pleasure. I am just glad to be away from Slob Manor (read: rental housing). How can so much grief and frustration be generated in the tiny confines of its cheap hollow walls? Nihilism, my friends.

Mondo Fool V

The day? Same ol' shit. Same ol' itinerary. Same ol' routine. Back at Slob Manor (read: rental housing), Alan told me that the landlord is planning to move upstairs sometime this month. Very interesting. The landlord had told me a conflicting story during the sofa fiasco. I don't want to waste my time chronicling the stupidity. I can safely say, though, that the landlord has proven time and again to be a liar. And, lying dissolves all trust.

My tablet computer and I made the trek to the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala this evening. More of the same, I'm afraid. After wandering around aimlessly for a spell, I ended up at the bookstore. I spent my remaining time composing the "blog" using the new predictive keyboard feature on the tablet computer. If there is one feature that is both indispensable and amusing, that would be the predictive keyboard. I barely need to type anything. It even "learns" the words that I have been using. If only it could compose the entire "blog" for me. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!

Finally, I have not implemented the Conqu "app" on my tablet computer yet. Why? Well, I only have three noteworthy tasks to complete, all of them involving the divestiture of my useless possessions. I have no control over the sale of the detestable "condotel" unit, I can initiate the sale of my truck at any time. I am thinking of ridding myself of it sometime this year. I can then rent a vehicle on the days that I visit moms in Hawai'i Kai. I have already worked out the potential savings.

Molech Mundanity III

Last night, I discovered by accident that the netbook is not the culprit insofar as the spotty Net connection is concerned. I was downloading a choice hurdy-gurdy video clip on the netbook while I viewed the flick, "So Close," yet again via the Crackle® site on my tablet computer. All of sudden, both streams simultaneously stopped. Thus, the problem is either with the wireless router or the cable Net connection.

I installed Conqu onto my tablet computer as well. It is a task management "app." I am not at all certain that I need something like that, but I will try it out for a spell. I am looking for any practical "apps" that can transform my tablet computer into a pure standalone device. So far, so good.

I neglected to mention that I ran into Tim at the bus stop last night at the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala. We had a nice chat. Tim is a Christian, so he often brings up God of the Yahweh Triad (i.e., Judaism, Pauline-Christianity, and Islam) in the conversation. He repeatedly offered thanks to the deity, but he did not make any attempt to proselytize. I kept wondering about what he would do if he learned that the deity does not exist. Would he still be thankful? Would he still be happy knowing that "Heaven" was not awaiting him?

Usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Moms had an appointment at the dentist. Rather than wait in the dungy office, I chose to spend the time sipping coffee at Zippy's and enjoying the view of Kuapa Pond. Otherwise, same old routine.

I stepped out to the den of consumerism again tonight. And, I played with the other tablet computer again. I have to admit that the GUI is flawless. My tablet computer is unpolished in comparison. Sad story. However, I will remain loyal and hope for further refinements.

I stopped off in Aina Haina for no apparent reason. Unfortunately, I returned to Slob Manor (read: rental housing) just in time for the last half of the slammin' soirée courtesy new Joker. Is he just deliberately waiting for me to return before putting on a show?

April Fool's Day 2012

At the gym this morning, the hottie gym trainer finally decided to come around. April Fool! Yeah, there's no fool like an old fool. Actually, the day was comprised of the same ol' shit. Baby was looking mighty fine, though.

I have also been thinking about mummifying the "blog" immediately. April Fool! There's no fool like an old fool. Actually, I may finally implement my plan for more sporadic postings. Anyway, nearly all of the visitors to the "blog are in search of pictures of hurdy-gurdy hotties.

The "piece of shit" netbook is still unable to maintain a stable connection with the wireless router. I was, however, able to update the operating system last night. The problem has not been remedied, though. The regression is even worse. I almost threw the "piece of shit" onto the floor.

I neglected to mention that, as I was standing in the dark kitchen of Slob Manor (read: rental housing) last night, I heard someone calling out for the New Joker. The landlord was outside looking in the window. After seeing that I was there instead, the landlord just walked away. I'm actually glad that I don't have to chat with the landlord anymore. In fact, I'm making it a point to avoid any kind of conversation with anyone at the dump. Incidentally, the only reason that the landlord was friendly the other day was because she wanted the small sofa back. That's it.

I stepped out to the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala this evening. I brought the tablet computer with me. I decided to deploy it while I was in the bookstore. I composed some of the "blog" using the new predictive keyboard. Wow! I now only need to tap only a few letters of a word and several choices pop up above the virtual keyboard. I tap the desired word and it is typed in for me. I could probably compose an entire entry using the predictive keyboard. Sometimes it actually offers me the choice for the next word before I tap the first character. No, I am not fooling. Needless to say, I was impressed.

"So Close" Confrontation Scene

I have viewed the flick, "So Close," several times now. Not only is it my all-time favorite movie, it is also the perfect diversion from the mundane. Yeah, I know that the editing is seemingly faulty because the chronology does not make sense. However, I don't want to be overly critical. The flick is highly entertaining, and that is all that matters.