New Year's Eve 2013

The year 2013? It was shitty, to put it mildly. What more can be said? The rich are getting richer, the poor ... well, the poor are all broke and homeless. And, the situation is getting worse. Fortunately, everyone except the ol' lavahead has a "smartphone" to keep themselves placated (read: lobotomized) during the ordeal.

I haven't commented much about the general malaise. There's just too much to consider. Just know that misery has mostly been a human construct, the result of so many failed paradigms. Of course, one failed paradigm stands out ... "civilization." The human experiment to self-domesticate, to suppress the "inner animal," to force dominion upon the whole planet, and to build a foundation based on immortality ... fail!

Typical New Year's Eve Hottie
No evening outing in Kahala last night. I just wasn't in the mood. With that said, I nixed my last opportunity to loiter at the bookstore in the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall). As for the allergy medicine, the results were mixed. The real test will be at midnight when the soot from all of the fireworks pollutes the air.

Usual Sunday itinerary on Tuesday. Same ol' shit. I arrived back at Slob Manor (read: rental housing) at 3pm. My evening outing will go no further than Aina Haina. I will procure dinner for tonight and tomorrow evening. Then, I'll be sequestered in my squalid room. Sequestered ... that's pretty much the entire year in a nutshell.

Phenylephrine Farce

My evening outing in Kahala last night ... one hour including transit time on the bus. I ate dinner at the sandwich shop. Then, I purchased a box of nasal decongestant pills at the drug store in the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall). Yeah, the cold and flu elixir was ineffective.

The bookstore is its final days. I only stopped in to use the restroom facilities. I espied the overweight homeless guy loitering in his usual spot. The café is only offering a limited menu of treats. Very dismal.

Later in the evening, I discovered that the nasal decongestant pills were also ineffective. The problem is the alleged active ingredient, Phenylephrine HCL, which is basically an expensive and useless placebo. There is no way to obtain Pseudoephedrine-based decongestants "over the counter" (OTC) in Hawai'i. Why? The proliferation of "Ice" manufacturing labs in the islands. Pseudoephedrine is a primary ingredient.

I was still wide awake at 3am this morning with extreme nasal congestion. Absolutely no air could pass through my nostrils. The placebo, Phenylephrine HCL, is not harmless after all. It causes even more mucous congestion, which further inflames and narrows the nasal passages. In other words, a runny nose becomes even runnier. Bogus!

Typical Wellness Hottie
Usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Moms experienced difficulty swallowing since Wednesday. Moms' regular physician was on vacation. So, we made a quick jaunt to the Minute Clinic® at Long®. Along the way, moms mentioned a few other symptoms. I told moms that she was probably experiencing an allergic reaction to something. Turns out, the nurse practitioner made the same diagnosis. We were able to procure an OTC allergy remedy. I, too, purchased an OTC generic allergy medication to use as a substitute for the bogus nasal decongestant. Otherwise, nothing to report.

On a side note, I had to reinstall the third-party file manager on the Nexus 7 tablet computer. I have discovered that, depending on what I am doing, the Android® operating system and its "apps" will create assorted files and folders. After a while, that garbage adds up. Sheesh!

Post No. 2,800

Last night, my evening outing to Kahala amounted to one hour including travel time by bus. The whole purpose of the jaunt was to procure dinner at the Subway® sandwich shop on Kilau'ea Avenue. Toshi, the franchise owner, and his staff always treat me very well. If you are in that neighborhood, stop by for a great sandwich.

The den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) was extremely crowded, as if the clock had been turned back before Saturnalia. "Satanic gargoyles" were in a shopping frenzy. I stopped off at the bookstore only to use the restroom facilities before departing. The store looks empty and dismal, although there were quite a few "satanic gargoyles" lurking about.


Typical Uncommon Hottie
Typical Sunday itinerary. The common cold is still hanging on and causing me much grief. At the gym, I was able to enjoy an extended perusal of the hottie gym trainer. Baby was looking mighty fine. What a way to end the year! Unfortunately, baby has not come around. Will baby ever come around? No.

I'll Be Illin' Again

Illin' again! The common cold hit me pretty hard, thanks to the sleepless night afforded me by the gooks at the Chinaman house next door to Slob Manor (read: rental housing). I was fortunate to have an emergency supply of cold and flu elixir.

And, I really didn't miss the canceled jaunt to Kahala last night. I would have had to deal with myriad Post-Saturnalia shoppers, an unimpressive group of dolts. Unfortunately, all I had to entertain myself was the Net on the tablet computer. Sad, but true.

There's not much else that I can do with the tablet computer anymore. There are no third-party "apps." Essentially, it's much like one of those limited Chromebook® computers. And, really, that's where we're all heading ... an extremely passive computer experience.

Typical Active Hottie
I have essentially been following the Sunday itinerary every day that I am in town. So, I return to Slob Manor much earlier than usual. The latest bout of the common cold provided me with a good reason, too. I have had to shorten my workouts at the gym as well. I'll spend the rest of the day in passive computer mode. Sheesh!

Surreptitious Surveillance

I have reason to believe that the "blog" is being monitored by Google®. I know, that's laughable considering that there only three readers remaining. However, I have observed that two particular entities, one in Mountain View in Cali (home of Google®) and another somewhere in Texas (possibly Austin) instantaneously view the "blog" right after posting. Will I be losing my Google® account? Will I no longer be able to use the Nexus 7 tablet computer (account required)? If so, then I'm migrating over to the fruit-based tablet computer.

I was too fatigued to appreciate the evening outing last night, so I returned early to Slob Manor (read: rental housing). Not much to do except piddle around on the Net and wait for the gooks at the Chinaman house next door to act up. Feeling that a bout of the common cold may be coming on, I dropped back a dosage of the cold and flu elixir.

Usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Nothing to report. I was still illin' from the common cold. The evening outing for tonight has been canceled. I need to recuperate.

Typical Surreptitious Hottie
Well, I decided to uninstall the third-party file manager from the tablet computer. It's now very similar to the fruit-based tablet computer. Without access to the file system, I will be less likely to indulge in foolish time-wasting activities (e.g., downloading hurdy-gurdy video clips) on the Net. Sheesh!

Incidentally, I finally figured out why the "chef" chose message therapy as a new career. Have you noticed the proliferation of hurdy-gurdy video clips featuring a massage scenario? Yeah, the "chef" has probably self-massaged to several of them. And, he probably figures that, as a masseuse, he'll get "lucky" more often than not. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!

Prisoner's Dilemma

A prisoner often has only a small, albeit barred, window to view the outside world. Or, the prisoner may stand outside near an electrified fence and observe the outside world on the other side. Both the latter and former are simply portals. The prisoner must still rely on imagination to taste freedom.

Yesterday, I referenced the prison created by the "ownership society." We are all incarcerated to some degree. That explains the obsessive reliance on technology (e.g., computers, "smartphones," tube) to provide portals to an imagined freedom. The actual world around us is a structural prison. Hence, we can no longer escape. There is no real freedom. We can only escape through the virtual venues of entertainment to achieve a virtual freedom. The irony, of course, is that there is always a price of admission for those particular venues.

The Net has also been a major purveyor of virtual freedom. Little wonder why the "smartphone" has become a literal umbilical cord. We're talking about a perpetual connection to the Net. Hour after hour, day and night. I've been caught up in its web, too. Now, I have been gradually weaning myself off of the Net.

Honestly, though, what will I do when I approach complete separation from the Net? What alternatives are there? I have already mummified all other forms of virtual freedom. There will be nothing left but to stare at the blank walls of my prison cell, my squalid room at Slob Manor (read: rental housing), or elsewhere.

Typical Dangerous Hottie
No evening outing last night. I was too fatigued because of the earlier laborious loitering at the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala. Instead, I was continuously on the Net from 2:30pm on deep into the night.

I really did not have much choice. The gooks at the Chinaman house next door were having a party in their parking area about a stone's throw from the window of my squalid room. The party was already in session when I returned in the afternoon. Shitty rap music was blaring from a cheap stereo in one of the vehicles. Other vehicles were constantly coming and going. All the while, the drunkard gooks were screaming and hollering at the top of their lungs. I attempted to go to sleep at 10:30pm, but the party shifted into overdrive right at that moment. The music and screaming grew even louder ... 11:30pm ... midnight ... 12:30am ... 1am ... 1:30am ... 2am ... 2:30am ... over twelve fucking hours and still going ... 3am in the fucking morning, finally the dickheads put an end to their stupidity.

Well, at least I made some progress at diminishing my minimal Net presence even more. I deleted my Google+ account and profile. Extreme elation overcame me during the process. I spent the rest of the time on another project to be unveiled later.

A fatiguing day at best. I returned to Slob Manor at 2:30pm, much earlier than usual. I was hoping to take a short nap, but the sun was shining directly in my squalid room unto my squalid bed. Can you believe it? There's really just no end to the stupidity that I must endure.

Saturnalia 2013

Last night at Slob Manor (read: rental housing), Alan commenced barbequing in the kitchen at 9pm. That's right, he has purchased some kind of contraption that smokes food in a conventional oven. Unfortunately, all the smoke generated by the "Rube Goldberg" appliance ended up wafting into my squalid room. Everything, my clothes, the bedding, and myself ended up reeking of the stale smokey stench. The "chef" is visiting his parents on another island for a week. So, Alan believes that he is free to do as he pleases. Stupidity at the dump is never-ending.

I spent six hours loitering at the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala. We already know the drill. The routine has been the same for the past few years. As usual, more and more people keep coming by the minute. So, by 10am, the stupidity was at a fever pitch. Nothing ever changes.

Only two stores and the coffee shop were open in the mall. The theaters opened at 11am. The "ownership society" has created an immense prison wherein few places are not "private property." Thus, the rank-and-file peons are restricted to a handful of venues. Sad, really.

Typical Saturnalia Hottie
Saturnalia is about as good a time as any to express my deep disappointment with humanity. Here we are in the 21st century and we're locked into ignorance and stupidity. The fact the centuries are referenced to the birth of Jesus is a case in point. Nearly all of our woes have been brought upon ourselves. Frankly, the majority of the problems are centered on the conflict of the "inner animal." Let's call it denial of animal (or our true animal selves).

Sublimating the "inner animal," domination of self through self-domestication, or instituting a failed "civilization" paradigm only causes the root problems to fester until they manifest themselves in unpredictable and destructive ways. The "inner animal" can only be controlled by force and through coercion of freedom. All animals desire to be free. Take away their freedom and the trouble starts.

We could have been the greatest of animals, but we're the laughingstock of the animal world. Each day, we bring ourselves closer to self-destruction over the most trivial matters. Yet, in five billion years, the planet will be engulfed by the sun as it expands into a red star. Stupidity really knows no bounds. And, we humans are collectively the pinnacle of stupidity. Happy Saturnalia!

Eve of Saturnalia 2013

My evening outing last night was brief. I really did not want to go, but sitting on my squalid room at Slob Manor (read: rental housing) was totally unacceptable. Sure enough, the smug Saturnalia shoppers did not disappoint. Rude, obnoxious, stupid, and clearly intoxicated with spending money. Of course, I should be more tolerant. After all, we are dealing with animals, smelly ol' chimps to be precise. I only expect more from the chimpo sapiens because they believe themselves to be above the animals. Expectations are rarely met.

Eve of Saturnalia. I avoided the foolishness, naturally. The Sunday itinerary on Tuesday. So, I was back at Slob Manor by 3pm. Oh, I neglected to mention the elation that I felt when I divested my small tool set yesterday. Most people are excited with new material acquisitions. I, on the other hand, feel ecstatic when I get rid of useless crap.

Typical Eve of Saturnalia Hottie
The Eve of Saturnalia evening outing? Uneventful. First stop, the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala. All of the stores, except the coffee shop, had just closed. Yet, the place was packed with what I used to describe as "satanic gargoyles." I was there for about ten minutes.

My adventure then took me to the Aina Haina Shopping Center next. I ate a quick snack at the fast food joint which, by the way, offered better quality "value menu" items than its counterpart in Kahala. Then, I purchased a few discounted plate lunches at the supermarket. The adventure was way too much more me. When, I returned to Slob Manor, I was done for the evening.

Escape from Google®

Last night, I enjoyed an uneventful evening outing in Kahala. Aside from eating dinner at the fast food joint staffed by myriad Micronesians, I loitered at various locations in an attempt to achieve clarity. A pathetic charade at best.

Usual Hawai'i Kai visit. I divested my small tool set and toolbox. My bro has inherited them, although he doesn't know it yet. I just placed the toolbox with all of his other tools. Moms and I had to maneuver around rabid Saturnalia shoppers all morning. Otherwise, nothing to report.

Typical Tempting Hottie
I mentioned yesterday that the new Nexus 7 tablet computer will soon be replaced by a fruit-based tablet computer, reason being that the former is a cheap plastic device. Without adequate protection, which I am not providing, it will most likely be damaged beyond repair fairly soon. I have also referred to the new Nexus 7 as a "transitional" device. Yes, the platform is quite open, and I have ample storage. So, will I give in to temptation and go back to old ways (e.g., hurdy-gurdy video downloading and so forth)? Or, will I realize that time has run out?

There are also other considerations. I am preparing to migrate the two important documents off of the Google® "cloud." Heck, I am actually ready to leave the Google® ecosystem entirely. And, I am currently contemplating the fate of the "blog." Actually, the "blog" is not of much concern. The readership has steadily declined just as I had expected. Are we in the final stage of the exodus?

Tablet Computers Ad Hominem

Last night, I purchased a cheap $4 protective case for the tablet computer at Simply Organized in the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala. The case was designed for the fruit-based tablet computer, so it is huge. Does it matter? Aside from dinner at the sandwich shop, that was the highlight of my evening outing.

My homeless buddy persuaded me to only seek out the cheapest possible products, when feasible. He's right. I've been too accustomed to the pricier products that are designed for winners. Losers need apply. That's the reason why he urged me to nix the idea of purchasing a fruit-based tablet computer.

Typical Fruit-Based Hottie
My homeless buddy was again waiting for me at the fast food joint in town this morning, this time with the older Nexus 7 tablet computer in hand. He claimed that it would not power up for him. After a while, I figured out that he had locked the bootloader. He, of course, denied that he pressed a combination of buttons simultaneously, even though that's the only way to lock the bootloader. He also set up the device with his own Google® account, even though he will be passing it on to the new owner. He should know better.

Another typical Sunday, battling with 300-pounders on the bus, enjoying Fast Food Sunday, and so forth. The 300-pounders are also ubiquitous at the fast food joint in town ... well, any fast food joint actually. The evening outing? More of the same.

On a side note, the new Nexus 7 tablet computer has now been deemed a "transitional" device. I am planning to replace it with a fruit-based tablet computer. As I mentioned previously, the role of the tablet computer has been intentionally diminished. I will soon be removing the only third-party "app," a file manager. Functionally, it will then be equivalent to the fruit-based tablet computer. Tasks will be minimized even further. More details later.

Tablet Computers Ad Infinitum

Last night, I experienced a belabored, albeit uneventful, evening outing in Kahala. I should have just stayed in my squalid room at Slob Manor (read: rental housing). When am I going to accept the fact that my life is so-o-o over?

Typical So-o-o Not Over Hottie
This morning, my homeless buddy was was waiting for me when I arrived at the fast food joint in town. True to his word, he located a buyer for the older Nexus 7 tablet computer. So, I am down to one device again. I wasted most of the morning looking for a protective case for the new Nexus 7 ... a futile task. Everything available is designed for the fruit-based tablet computer only. The Nexus 7 has odd dimensions, so generic cases won't fit properly. I became quite irritated.

The whole tablet computer situation has become a lesson in absurdity. I am attempting to wean myself of computers and the Net. Yet, I purchased a new device. I am wasting time and (soon) money to acquire a protective case. Yet, I have vowed that the device will no longer travel with me during the day. It may not even be necessary during my evening outings as well.

And, what will be the purpose of the Nexus 7? I don't know. It's not a social networking and entertainment hub. Not a game console. Not a "mobile pr0n terminal" (MPT) anymore. No business uses either. All that's left are Web browsing, e-mail, and the "blog." Sheesh!

Post No. 2,791

Slob Manor (read: rental housing) is a very difficult place to get any sleep. We've known that for a long time. The gooks at the Chinaman house next door were outside at 2:30am in their huge parking lot about a stone's throw from from the window of my squalid room. They had the engines running on three of their vehicles which necessitated yelling (in Chinkspeak) to communicate. The absurdity went on for nearly an hour.

Alan was up at 5am because he's changed his shift at his wage slave job. The "chef" was up at 6:45am to prepare a full organic breakfast, even though he had a full meal at 9pm last night. Can you say, "Eating disorder"?

Sleep does not seem to be a priority for anyone. In fact, I've noticed that (for most people) the less sleep, the better. Denial of death sublimated, you think? Yet, every waking hour is spent on ludicrous or benign activities. Or, eating. That's why there are so many 300-pounders waddling around.

Typical Sublime Hottie
Usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Nothing to report. I was too fatigued anyway. Nonetheless, I will be battling the Saturnalia shoppers during my evening outing in Kahala. No rest for the weary.

Tablet Computers Ad Nauseam

Prior to and after my evening outing in Kahala yesterday, I spent time to set up the new Nexus 7 tablet computer. I set all the preferences, performed all of the updates, charged the battery, and cleared the system cache, all before putting it back into its original box. No other "apps" were installed. I could not find a protective case to fit its odd dimensions, so deployment is not currently an option.

My homeless buddy purchased a new Dell® Venue 8 Pro tablet computer. Not a bad device, but "not my cup of tea." As much as I have grown weary of Google® surveillance "apps," I still prefer Android® over other tablet computer operating systems.

Typical Divested Hottie
Not to worry, though. Owning two tablet computers does not signal a return to the heyday of hurdy-gurdy video downloading. Those days are gone as signified by the purge of the last file of its type. Strange as it may seem, I am earnestly moving toward less reliance on the Net.

No decision yet about moving to the "crack house" in Chinatown. This morning, my homeless buddy met up with me at the fast food joint in town. His new tablet computer is actually quite impressive for the price. He also mentioned that he may have found a potential buyer for the older Nexus 7 tablet computer. It could be divested as early as Saturday.

Milestone Madness

Last night, after another boring evening outing in Kahala (greasy "value menu" items at the fast food joint notwithstanding) I returned to the despicable Slob Manor (read: rental housing) only to be privy to the "chef" cooking and eating another full meal in the kitchen. He just ate a full meal at 4:30pm. Sheer insanity!

At 8:30pm, I unceremoniously deleted the sole prized hurdy-gurdy video clip from the Nexus 7 tablet computer. I also uninstalled the associated third-party video player. That's the end of an era, my friends, and another significant milestone. The only reason that the Nexus 7 was highly guarded, always at my side, was because of that one video file. Can you say, "mobile pr0n terminal"? Otherwise, there are no important documents archived on it anymore. Once the hurdy-gurdy video file was deleted, the whole issue of "tablet computer shame" simply disappeared.

By the way, I had worked on several different schemes to transfer the notorious hurdy-gurdy file to any new tablet computer, even if it meant that the file had to be converted to another format. Now, none of that matters. I don't even need a new tablet computer. Or, I could switch to the fruit-based tablet computer without hassle. Totally irrelevant, eh?

Really, though, "tablet computer shame" was all about distracting myself from more important considerations such as the decision to move to the "crack house" in Chinatown. I don't want to make the decision, but now there are no distractions. Well, at the least, the Nexus 7 is now a disposable item.

Typical Distracted Hottie
With that said, my homeless buddy and I went tablet computer shopping at Office Depot® in Kaka'ako this morning. We both made foolish decisions to purchase new devices. I opted to acquire the new Nexus 7 at $40 off the regular price. I wanted the model with less storage (and less expensive), but the latter was out of stock. So, I have the storage equivalent of the old Nexus 7 model.

Obviously, I don't need two tablet computers. However, I was able to at least quell my desire to purchase a fruit-based tablet computer. Eventually, the old Nexus 7 will be deprecated. Well, it's not that old. It's still under warranty. Both devices are disposable anyway. I am old codger now. I just wanted something nice while I can still enjoy it. Sheesh!

"Crack House" Tour

On the bus this morning, I chatted with a Mexican-American homeless guy. He initiated the conversation when he asked me where I had purchased my gym bag. He provided me with a lot of information about the homeless crisis here in the islands. Much of what he said substantiated my homeless buddy's testimony.

The grand tour of the "crack house" in Chinatown was unexciting. I arrived early and chatted with one of the residents who was standing by the entrance and smoking a cigarette. He provided me with the most useful information about the place. Lots of tenants are drug users. Some residents have homeless friends and freely invite the latter to use the facilities. Typical low income housing.

The manager of the "crack house" arrived a few minutes later. He's a pudgy Filipino clown. He gave me a brief tour, all the while talking in a condescending fashion. Little does he know that my net worth is probably over 1,000 times greater than his. The rooms are small, about one hundred feet-squared. I was also able to view the common bathrooms, kitchen, and coin-operated laundry facilities. Overall, the place looks like a rundown college dormitory.

Outside, a line was already forming at the church mission across the street. I assume that lunch would be served shortly. Lots of Micronesians waiting in line. All the people looked extremely grubby, not at like the affluent slobs seen in the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala.

Typical High Morale Hottie
I doubt that I would have any trouble adjusting to the conditions at the "crack house." My only concern is a degradation of morale after being exposed to people bordering on chronic dereliction. Day after day, the general malaise is bound to cause problems.

Of course, I deal with a different kind of malaise at Slob Manor (read: rental housing). The tenants are mentally ill as well. The "chef", for example, is now eating at least four full organic meals per day. I surmise that he's ingesting about 5,000 calories daily. Each organic meal requires at least an hour of preparation. That's hella time in the kitchen, what with the slammin' soirée and all. We already know about the rest of the brain dead cast members. There just doesn't seem to be any escape from mental illness.

Tropic of Cancer (Continued)

Knowing that my homeless buddy has colon cancer is about as close to clarity that I have come. My homeless buddy is just two or three years younger than I am. When he commences chemotherapy treatment, he will be in constant discomfort (an understatement) for two years. The cancer may go into remission, but it could also return with a vengeance. Or, it could spread to other organs.

What really baffles me is my homeless buddy's commitment to continue the ruse of a poor homeless guy. He's got $60,000 in cash stashed away in a safe deposit box. All of his needs and expenses, including full medical benefits, are paid in full by social entitlement programs. No matter what the medical outcome of chemotherapy is, he will never be the same physically.

Death is fleeting. There is no way to determine the exact time when it will arrive. Yet, we humans continue to act as if immortality is a given. The entire framework of our existence is based on ludicrous assumptions of a contrived longevity. We also fail to understand that we are just another "garden variety" species of animal.

Typical Meaningful Hottie
What then is the real meaning of life? What is our purpose? As I have stated previously in the "blog," there isn't any. We are just unwitting victims of the curse of consciousness. We are born, we live, and then we die. A simple understanding of the latter concept would probably have saved us from myriad interim misery. Of course, ignorance knows no bounds. Otherwise, usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Nothing to report.

Tropic of Cancer

"Tablet computer shame" continues to plague me. Probably because I am always using the fruit-based tablet computer while loitering nightly in the fruit-based computer store in the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala. And, to add insult to injury, I spend that time perusing technology sites on the Net, most of which are extremely enamored with the fruit-based tablet computer. So, my poor Nexus 7 is now always hidden from public view.

I have also become increasingly concerned about Google® surveillance "apps." I have cleared all of the "apps," which resets them to default, but I cannot be certain that they are truly in a benign state. I really have a feeling that the "apps" are still secretly reporting information. Scary, isn't it?

Typical Secretive Hottie
This morning, I ran into my homeless buddy at the fast food joint in town. He has been diagnosed with colon cancer. In an initial medical examination, he was told that he had a tumor in his colon. After an MRI, colonoscopy, and biopsy, the final verdict was cancer.

My homeless buddy has postponed the chemotherapy treatment. He wants to secure the rental unit that has been assigned to him in a low income housing project. Then, he wants to visit friends and relatives in Vietnam for three months. So, he won't commence treatment for at least five months. The treatment, itself, would require two contiguous years. Thus, he would not be able to travel during that time. A hard decision, but I see his point.

Life or death decisions can sure change one's perspective about life itself. I am looking at my homeless buddy's situation from a third-person point of view. Yet, I cannot avoid being haunted by the prospect of mortality immediately overruling my priorities and courses of action. The whole basis of culture and the failed "civilization" paradigm is the denial of death. That's why we become obsessed with trivial issues like "tablet computer shame." What a joke!

Irrelevance of Clarity

Last night, during my evening outing at the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala, I came very close to whipping out the credit card and purchasing a fruit-based tablet computer. Oh, I don't know. Sleep deprivation, dementia, mortality issues, regressions with the latest operating system update to the Nexus 7 tablet computer ... all probable triggers. Fortunately, I came to my senses. How so? Well, let's just say that I was very unimpressed by the device's "sandboxed" file system.

Earlier, I had installed the Nova Launcher on the Nexus 7, which allowed me to emulate the now-crippled Google® Experience LaunchPad (GEL) within limits. Stock Android® definitely does not have a stylish tablet user interface. Hence, tablet computer shame. However, it behaves like a real operating system, if you know what I mean.

Typical Saturday Morning Hottie
Again, the Sunday itinerary in effect on Saturday. Little sense can be made of the itinerary anyway. My entire day is consumed by coffee time at the fast food joint in town, exercise routine at the gym, and bus commuting. During all of that time, I keep attempting to achieve clarity. Yet, I was constantly distracted by irrelevant issues like "tablet computer shame."

Typical Saturday Afternoon
I am, of course, privy to witness and often victimized by rampant human stupidity. The human animal is solely responsible for most of the misery around us. We just cannot seem to unite against such misery. Rather, we continue to seek incremental perceived gains at the vast expense of others. When will it end? Probably when intercontinental ballistic missiles (ICBMs) armed with atomic warheads are in the air en route all over the planet.

Sinister Nobody Day 2013

Yesterday, after about ten or more different updates were installed on the Nexus 7 tablet computer, a few regressions were noted. The worst one is the disappearing icon(s) in the Google® Experience LaunchPad (GEL). The home screen looks unbalanced and moronic. "Tablet computer shame" is now a reality. GEL was immediately uninstalled. Perhaps it's time to rethink the acquisition of a fruit-based tablet computer.

Typical Friday Morning Hottie
At Slob Manor (read: rental housing) last night, I discovered that my one-and-only shelf in the huge side-by-side refrigerator was stuffed with one of the other tenant's food. All I had on the shelf was a container of pre-mixed protein powder elixir. I immediately removed it and left a note that the shelf has been relinquished to whomever wants it. I am left with just a tiny drawer that can barely fit my stock of fresh fruit.

Typical Friday Afternoon Hottie
Friday the 13th. Sinister Kahuna Day. Hogwash! If that was really the case, every day would be Sinister Kahuna Day. Othetwise, usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Nothing to report.

Back at Slob Manor, Alan apologized for using my fridge shelf space. Then, Alan and the "chef" both decided that the allegedly malfunctioning cable modem had to exchanged this afternoon. So, we're disconnected from the Net once again.

Incidentally, I set up an appointment to tour the "crack house" next Tuesday morning. Should prove interesting. If the facility can meet my minimal standards, then I will attempt to expedite the rental of one of the rooms. The whole situation has left me completely fatigued.

Grasping at Straws

Oh, the foolishness! So much wasted time discussing tablet computers in the "blog." Let's face it, I've been "grasping at straws." I certainly don't need a fruit-based tablet computer. I would only be begging for someone to steal it. No one is going to steal the Nexus 7 tablet computer because it looks like one of those cheap $50 models available in discount stores.

The real issue is that I need to wean myself off of the Net. I find myself wasting so much time because there is no other alternative when I am sequestered in my tomb ... err, my squalid room in Slob Manor (read: rental housing). The punchline is that I have absolutely no reason to be on the Net.

With that said, I have removed all of the personal filters set up in my free e-mail account. The filters have been tossing out legitimate e-mail as well. That's why I must check the account daily. So, I can now let all e-mail, legitimate or not, pile up in the inbox for weeks at a time.

Typical Thursday Morning Hottie
What I mean by the phrase, "grasping at straws," is that I am frantically seeking ways to obscure my mortality. Simply put, denial of death. Even though I have imposed a strict moratorium on "mainstream" entertainment, I am desperate to keep my mind distracted or occupied with vanity.

The recurring desire to purchase a new tablet computer is astonishingly parallel to the unchecked and wanton desires of the commercialized Saturnalia frenzy. The "need" to fulfill those immature desires is, of course, a futile method of sublimating the fear of death. Out with the old, in with the new ... the "rebirth" accomplished by rampant consumerism. In all, a fruitless endeavor which only leads to disappointment and tragedy.

Typical Thursday Afternoon Hottie
Otherwise, same ol' shit. No public library visit. I loitered in a couple of different locations. And, I spent my time pondering the fate of the "blog." It's the last of my Net dependencies.

Massage Moron

I have wasted a lot of "blog" space babbling about tablet computers and "smartphones." What's the purpose? Oh, I don't know. I have been attempting to wean myself off of computers for a long time. That's how I ended up with a tablet computer. Now it's the only technology device in my possession.

I don't listen to music or watch any flicks anymore. There have been no new hurdy-gurdy video clips downloaded. No social networking. No video calls. No computer games. No useless "apps." Soon, possibly no "blog." So, why am I concerned about acquiring a new tablet computer?

Typical Wednesday Morning Hottie
Back at Slob Manor (read: rental housing), the "chef" has been getting up at 5am daily to ... eat. Over one hour is spent banging around in the kitchen to conjure up his latest organic concoctions. The fool seems to get by on four or five hours of sleep. Of course, once he wakes me up, I cannot get back to sleep.

Little wonder why the "chef" no longer has a "squeeze." He is just too weird. The new electric juicer and electric blender that he purchased as gifts for her (actually for himself, for use while at her place) are now stored in the cupboards.

The "chef" has actually been enrolled this semester in massage therapy classes at one of the community colleges. The classes qualified him to put his $50,000 in unsubsidized student loans in deferment, which is why he has been able to afford to purchase organic everything. He does not realize that his unsubsidized student loans are accruing and capitalizing the interest. I seriously doubt that he understand the concept of amortization. He also did not know that he could take a tax deduction on the $5,000 in interest that he paid out last year. Well, he's not worried because massage therapy will be his "road to riches."

Typical Wednesday Afternoon Hottie
I actually made an unannounced appearance at the public library in order to lapse in and out of a coma for an hour. I was really groggy after several days of the massage moron's early morning culinary artistry. No sign of my homeless buddy or any of the regular homeless. Strange things.

Back again at Slob Manor, I observed that Tom, the drunkard, has not engaged in wage slavery so far this week. Has he been emancipated? No doubt, he will be tempted to return to his old alcoholic ways. Maybe he should enroll in massage therapy classes, too.

Mind of Mush

My outing in Kahala last night was somewhat of farce. I spent over an hour loitering (i.e., sitting on one of the wooden benches) along the promenade of the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall). No clarity was attained. I really had no purpose to be there since I already had consumed a few energy bars for dinner.

Incidentally, an older guy comes in to the mall every night. He always sits on the same wooden bench and practices a few songs on his trusty ukulele. And, I am always in listening range. Frankly, he's the only source of sanity in the entire mall.

Typical Tuesday Morning Hottie
And, I was tempted to immediately purchase a fruit-based tablet computer. "Tablet computer shame" almost pushed me toward irrational behavior. I came to my senses, though, at least for now. The obsolete Nexus 7 tablet computer can do so much more. And, what exactly are my requirements? I don't have any.

Typical Tuesday Afternoon Hotties
Tablet computers, "smartphones," and even regular computers are consumption devices. Users want to be passively entertained. Every spare moment is filled by some entertainment media via the devices. The mind quickly turns to mush. The need to be entertained passively 24 hours per day, seven days per week causes cognitive degradation. Little wonder why ObamaScare has been readily accepted by the peons of empire. Little wonder why the surveillance state has become ubiquitous without question.

LG® G Pad
On a side note, I believe that I have found a replacement for the obsolete Nexus 7 tablet computer ... the LG® G Pad. There's a Google® Play version that sports the stock operating system. Perfect! Forget the fruit-based tablet computer already.

Pain in the Ass

It's too bad that the hottie gym trainer won't come around, eh? Actually, that's probably not a good thing. Babes, especially hotties, are a real "pain in the ass." Most guys will tolerate any kind of nonsense as long as they can get some "action." Of course, the hottie gym trainer could be different. You think? Baby was looking mighty fine, though.

Typical Monday Morning Hottie
Well, the Vienna Sausage is ready to "throw in the towel," so the point is moot. I could actually switch over to the fruit-based tablet computer because there will be no need to acquire any hurdy-gurdy video clips. I'll just be satisfied with the more benign (i.e., neutered) content on the Net. Heck, I could even set the "parental controls." Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!

Typical Monday Afternoon Hottie
Take a good look at all of the hotties that have been showcased in the "blog." They know that they are hotties. They also know that they can have their way with most guys. Too much trouble. Old codgers need not apply anyway. Otherwise, usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Nothing to report.

Waste of Time (Again)

Being disconnected from the Net again yesterday allowed me to assess the amount of time wasted on trivial pursuits using the tablet computer. With absolutely nothing to do in my squalid room in Slob Manor (read: rental housing), I am one left with the Net. I keep reading news articles about issues that well beyond my locus of control. Or, I waste time searching for new hurdy-gurdy video clips, even though I don't download any of them. Or, I waste time composing the "blog."

The Net is yet another form of slavery. And, no matter where we navigate on the Net, we will assuredly be greeted by intrusive advertising. There is no end to the madness unless we decide to end it ourselves. What exactly is the point of wasting precious hours of our brief lifetime engaged with a small rectangular slab? Sitting there staring at the screen, running fingers on it to scroll to view more ridiculous nonsense ... insanity!

Typical Sunday Morning Hottie
If I move to the "crack house" in Chinatown, I won't have any Net access unless I patronize a place that has a free wireless hotspot. Of course, I would have to purchase something that I don't want or need. That' a good deterrent.

Or, I could purchase an expensive fruit-based tablet computer. I would no use for any other "app" than the Web browser. The device cannot download hurdy-gurdy video clips from file-sharing sites. Nor is a torrent client available. Even if I could download such a file, how would I find it?

That brings me to the trusty Nexus 7 tablet computer. Versatile as it is, the device could easily be mistaken for a "phablet." The user interface looks exactly like the one found on "smartphones." The "apps" are all for "smartphones." So, it's actually a "smartphone" without the phone innards. My now-obsolete Nexus 7 is worth about $50 or so. Yet, I treat it as though it's a fruit-based tablet computer. Makes no sense.

Typical Sunday Afternoon Hottie
Last night, I enjoyed another botched evening outing in Kahala. Dinner was courtesy another fast food joint was expensive, fairly tasty, but obviously laced with ractopamine. Later, I compensated by ordering a delicious slice of cheesecake in the bookstore's café in the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall). Buses were running extremely late, most likely due to the Saturnalia parade in town.

Usual Sunday itinerary. The highlight of the day was the extended perusal of the hottie gym trainer at the gym. At one point, baby was just inches away. Ho boy! Buses were running behind schedule because of the Honolulu Marathon.

Back at Slob Manor, the "chef" persuaded the landlord to purchase another wireless router. However, he claimed that the performance was no better. Now, he suspects the cable modem to be the culprit. I have noticed absolutely no difference. As I stated, the Net is a complete waste of time.

Boredom, The Sequel

My evening outing in Kahala last night can only be summarized as nauseating. I was served substandard "value menu" items at the fast food joint. The den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) was packed with moronic Saturnalia shoppers. The bookstore is now being patronized exclusively by scavengers looking for bargains. Barbaric consumerism is all that's remains in our human existence, at least in empire.

What is there for me, an impoverished loser, to do? I am sick and tired of hanging out in places populated by affluent or pseudo-affluent fucks. Don't they realize that we are all smelly ol' chimps? What is there to do, especially at night? Play with the computer, fool around with the "smartphone," or watch the tube? What kind of life is that?

Same ol' Sunday shit, but on Saturday instead. Back at Slob Manor (read: rental housing), the "chef" decided that the new wireless router was not to his liking. He was allegedly not able to achieve smooth video streaming. So, he dispatched the device to the landlord this morning. We're disconnected from the Net yet again. Sheesh!

Typical Interesting Hottie
Well, I am happy to report that the readership of the "blog" continues to dwindle. After all, the "blog" is really boring. How could it even compete with a "smartphone"? There's more interesting stuff on the "microblogging" and social network sites anyway. Sometimes I even bore myself. For me, that's a good thing. Boredom, after all, is a modern invention. Boredom is yet another facet of the "vital lie" that facilitates the denial of death.

Cauldron of Vice

Yesterday at Slob Manor (read: rental housing), the landlord made an appearance when I was actually around. I discussed my current situation from the perspective of a soon-to-be broke loser. The landlord offered to lower my rent by $50 per month. The landlord also mentioned that Alan and the "chef" did not want me to move on. Obviously, the landlord does not know that the other residents' concern has nothing to do with my well being. Rather, they do not want to give up the common space and privileges that I have voluntary relinquished. I am, for the most part, an invisible tenant.

The landlord's offer would decrease my rental expense by $600 per year. Now, if I moved into the "crack house" in Chinatown, my rental expense would decrease by $3,720 per year including the additional rental expense for a vehicle parking stall. In addition, getting by without a bus pass would save me another $720 per year. Yes, I need to contact the resident manager of the "crack house" and arrange for a tour to make a final feasibility assessment of moving to the sleazy cauldron of vice.

The "chef" apparently persuaded the landlord to purchase a new wireless router. Both he and Alan have had connectivity problems recently. I have not experienced any problems while using the Nexus 7 tablet computer. Of course, I didn't mention anything because everyone believes that I no longer own a computer. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!

Typical Hoarding Hottie
Usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Nothing to report. I was extremely fatigued all day, though. I am growing weary of the cumulative stupid human tricks. There's just no end.

Incidentally, there has been a lot of murmuring amongst the sycophants of the of the empire's moneychangers and powers-that-be. The latest plan is to foist heavy penalties on savings accounts. In other words, a peon depositor would be charged interest for saving money. You read correctly. There are also alternative ideas floating around to stop all withdrawals to hoard cash. Seriously, the problems of the global financial system are beyond repair. What will those crooks think of next?

Standing Ovation

I made my triumphant return to the public library this morning. A rousing standing ovation by myriad homeless was in order. Really? No, not really. I haven't set foot in the place for about a month. Otherwise, same ol' shit.

Typical Rousing Hottie
Incidentally, the stock market does not appear to be imploding, just a minor correction occurring. When it does implode, the drop will be rapid over just a few days. The Dow index will bottom out at the realistic level of 6,000 to 7,000 or so. Then, the "bubble" will begin to inflate again. I would not expect the central bank to change its lax monetary policies. Of course, the whole scheme is a massive transfer of wealth from the masses to the moneychangers and powers-that-be.

Nearly all "Western" economies are tied to empire, so the ensuing collapse will be global. No telling what the ramifications will be. Over five years of extreme "quantitative easing" (QE) and zero interest rate regime were required to inflate the current "bubble." The next bubble will require an even longer time frame and even more radical interventions by the central bank. The natural limit, of course, is when there is no more wealth to steal from the ballooning "bottomfeeder" class.

The empire's central bank has made a few timid threats about tapering its foolish policies. Don't believe a word of it. Any taper, even a miniscule one, will trigger panic. Thus, the eventual collapse will only come about when the true fundamentals come into play. Then, it will all be over but the crying.

Distorted Reality

Last night, I loitered in the Apple® Store in Kahala Mall for the longest time. Actually, I loiter there every night except on Sunday. I only use the iPad while there. At first, I was captivated by the device. It's fast, smooth, and aesthetically pleasing. However, after several cumulative hours of use, I noted more and more annoying limitations. As it stands, I could never justify the purchase of such a device. "Tablet computer shame" notwithstanding, there is no better value and versatility than what's available in Android® devices.

Typical Bubbly Hottie
Another day of dealing with the masses of idiotic peons of empire. We already know the drill. I'm just wondering when, not if, I will be deploying my canister of pepper spray. Similarly, I am wondering when, not if, the economy of empire will crash.

I am currently making an assessment of the economy of empire. My prediction is that at least the stock market will crash when the real fundamentals kick in. "Goosing" the earnings data through corporate buyback of stock is further exacerbating the situation. Thus, the next crash is surely to be fevastating. One telltale problem is that the price of gold has not declined as the stock market "bubble" has exponentially inflated. There's no way to assess the bond market as the central bank's intrusive intervention has really distorted reality. More later.

Destiny Postponed

While strolling through the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala every night, I pass by several 4,000-pound motorized chairs (read: automobiles) on display. Some are luxury models. I can actually afford to acquire any one of them in cash. Heck, I can still afford to purchase a small condo in cash and still have money left over.

Yet, I find that I am heavily conflicted by what I want, what I need, and my mortality. That is why I choose to live in squalor, all the while knowing that I will be robbed blind in the future by the moneychangers and powers-that-be. And, there lies the reason why saving money is a really bad idea. In fact, it's best to enter the "Golden Years" financially broke. Senior citizens are the ideal victims of fraud and chicanery.

Typical Immortal Hottie
This morning, I walked by the "crack house" one more time. I also observed one of the residents entering through the metal security gate. He looked like the stereotypical drug dealer/user. I decided that I am not ready to enter that sleazy world of vice. So, I put myself back on the waiting list. I have six months to change my mind.

The "crack house" is an odd four-storey structure that sits on the same block with a twin-tower condominium development. My guess is that the "crack house" was included in the project to provide the minimum number of low-income housing units to qualify for tax exemptions. There's no other reason for the eyesore to exist on that particular block. The developers were clever to completely segregate the riff-raff from the affluent condo owners.

By the way, I am certain that the "chef" of Slob Manor (read: rental housing) fame would be delighted to learn of my decision. If I move out and another tenant moves in, he has much to lose. He would have to relinquish quite a bit of cabinet space and fridge shelves. He would also need to cut back on his time spent in the kitchen. He could, depending on the new tenant's personality, lose complete control over his minions (i.e., Alan, Tom, et al.) and his domain. I've observed his actions long enough to realize that he is a petty con artist. He is doing everything possible so that he can maintain his "quality of life." Screw everyone else. Well, his time is coming. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!

Hour of Eleven

Lots of rain yesterday, although I was able to stay dry while navigating my way through the usual Sunday downtown routine. I was also fortunate to remain dry during my abridged evening outing. For some reason, the downpour always ceased while I was most exposed to the elements. Dinner was courtesy the fast food joint in Kahala. My subsequent visit to the bookstore was extremely brief. With the bookstore closing in less than a month, it is just not a place that is conducive to loitering anymore.

When I returned to Slob Manor (read: rental housing) at 7:30pm, I was privy to an evening of endless noise from upstairs. Tom, the drunkard, and an alcoholic buddy were talking loudly and dragging the furniture around above my squalid room until way past midnight. To his credit, Tom had been on good behavior for about three weeks. According to the "chef", the drunken lush is a temporary wage slave. Apparently, a religious acquaintance offered Tom a job in order to help him attain sobriety. Well, we all know what's going to happen when the job ends in a week or two. Tom will "fall off the wagon." Yeah, same ol' shit.

Typical "Eleventh Hour" Hottie
Incidentally, I have crafted a letter to notify the landlord of my intent to vacate Slob Manor. However, I have not made a final decision about moving to the "crack house" in Chinatown. If I submit the security deposit tomorrow for the "crack house," then I will be moving on. Yes, another "eleventh hour" decision. Otherwise, usual Hawai'i Kai visit.

And, for some unknown reason, I decided to reinstate my Skype® account. I have not reinstalled the "app" on the tablet computer, though. I currently have no use for the service.

Dangerous

Last night, another useless excursion to the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala. I spent most of the time sitting on one of the wooden benches in a feeble attempt to gain clarity. Clarity of what? The rest of the time was devoted to playing with the fruit-based tablet computer in the fruit-based computer store.

I was somewhat perturbed because the Nexus 7 tablet computer has displayed steadily increasing lag daily. The fruit-based tablet computer is just so smooth in comparison. When I arrived back at Slob Manor (read: rental housing), I finally executed the tedious procedure to wipe the system cache. I also disabled the troublesome Currents "app." What an improvement!

Typical "Dangerous" Hottie
The highlight of the day was the extended perusal of the hottie gym trainer at the gym. Baby was looking mighty fine. Unfortunately, baby has not come around yet. Alas, perhaps that's all for the better. Baby is too "dangerous."