Another evening at Barnes & Noble®. The hottie "bookseller" was there. Baby was looking hot. I spent my time wandering about the store. I felt quite lost. Then, I became disgusted because I knew that I still had one foot in the door of the "system." Yes, as cruel as the "system" is, it provides a nervous level of security to its prisoners (read: wage slaves). The "system" routinely abuses and punishes its prisoners as well. However, the same kind of sickness that pervades any abusive relationship is what keeps the prisoner tethered to the "system." Oppression is rewarded with the "freedom" to consume useless crap. Overconsumption is the overcompensation used by the prisoner to survive the ordeal. The prisoner, in turn, must extend the incarceration period to pay the price.
I departed at 10pm. Upon my return to Waikiki, I procured a big-ass can of cheap cerveza. I sat in the prison compound (read: hotel lobby) with Kevin Phillips' book, "American Theocracy" and the big-ass can of cerveza. I read the book until midnight while I dropped back the big-ass can of cerveza. I then returned to my prison cell (read: little shoebox) for lockdown.
I neglected to mention that Pseudo-professor Bette brought a whole bag full of sales receipts to the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill just prior to my departure for the gym. Baby spent the afternoon counting the sales tax to deduct on her taxes. Baby was still there when I returned. So was Pseudo-professor Bill. The three of us somehow got into a discussion about all kinds of stuff. However, I did learn that Pseudo-professor Bette owns a condo in Kane'ohe, actually a block away from the old Chez Loser complex. She has two dogs. She also has been renting out her spare room, the most recent tenant being an international student. So, she is apparently single with no kids. She worked as a newscaster in Hawai'i about 12 years ago. Since then, she's been in Arizona and Cali. She claims to currently have four jobs including piecemeal work for ESPN Radio. Pseudo-professor Bette is a real hottie, by the way. I'm surprised that Pseudo-professor Bill didn't mack on baby.
I departed for town at 7:50am this morning. During the annoying ride on the prison transport (read: bus), I continued to ponder my forced retirement from wage slavery and the subsequent ramifications. Why do I bother? I have been living in fear of losing my various jobs for the entire nine years that I have been in Hawai'i. And, my fears eventually came true. I have successively lost all of my jobs and not because of incompetence. My failed employment record is entirely due to my refusal to play the game. I will not worship my so-called "superiors" as if they were deities. Why should I? Those "superiors" are insecure mental midgets. It is the game-playing that results in the all-pervasive office politics. Frankly, I am sick of that shit.
I have never fit in the pseudo-professor circles. My roots are "blue collar." My upbringing has no ties with pseudo-intellectualism. My so-called "colleagues" are wrapped up in their self-importance. They live to be looked upon as intellectuals and be called, "Professor," even if they are still merely pseudo-professors, the low end of the academic food chain. Their pride and self-importance are what blinds them to the reality of the peonage to which they are enslaved. In exchange, they can live out the fantasy of a small-time pundit proselytizing to a captive audience.
What will I do when I am unemployed? Well, I will have to take a more active role in my financial strategy. Divesting the "condotel" unit and the truck may become critical success factors for my survival. My ultimate inclination is to become a hermit. I want to find a place to reside that will allow me to survive alone as a hermit. I would also like to spend my time pursuing my own interests, be it expanding my personal knowledge, possibly surfing, walking about in any desolate areas to discover the real beauty of life. I would like to experience freedom, whatever that means. And, I want to be able to visit with moms twice per week, without severe time constraints.
The absolute worst part about wage slavery is the skewed sense of time. Although I recognized the existence of the 24-hour day, my concept of time was measured in two time frames, the bi-monthly pay period and the length of the Diploma Mill term. That, in essence, is how time flies by with not much to say for oneself. I have heard many wage slaves lament about being bored during their furloughs from wage slavery. I am not so sure that boredom is that bad, especially in comparison to the demeaning life of a wage slave.
I have mentioned my upcoming unemployment to a select few. Not a single colleague, acquaintance, or student was concerned or sympathetic. Most of them changed the subject abruptly. Mind you, I am not looking for sympathy. Nor am I close to anyone to be considered a friend by any means. Nor am I likable as a person. However, I believe that we live in very uncompassionate society.
Sometimes I simply forget how old I am. In ten years, I will be eligible to receive Social Security benefits, that is, if I have any to claim. Although I definitely do not look my age, there is no doubt that I am a senior citizen. Yes, I am that old. I have very little time left on the planet, and even less time being fully ambulatory. I still remember when I had a conversation with a former student, Dustin, who happened to graduate in the same high school class as I had. "How many good years do we have left?" he asked. "Ten, fifteen maybe." Why would I want to spend that time in the misery of wage slavery in a most degrading environment?
Humanity has become a cesspool overflowing with raw sewage. The sludge that is packed tightly with individual turds is symbolic of a society that is infested with satanic gargoyles. The sickening cesspool chemical agents symbolize the epidemic of the "seven sins." The stench of the decaying substance parallels the decline of society. Humanity has passed the point of redemption, probably the only point that I find agreement with the Christian "dispensationists." Sooner or later, the disgusting fecal sludge in the cesspool has to be pumped out and dispersed into nothingness.
I walked to Safeway®, my usual morning ritual, to purchase the same ol' shit. I did my one-hour of wage slavery. Gym time was at 2:15pm. I was able to do a complete workout. Then, I spent the rest of the afternoon in the faculty computer room. The nightly ritual awaits.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Monday, March 19, 2007
Exodus on the Horizon
I deviated from my nightly ritual last night by spending all evening vegetating in my prison cell (read: little shoebox). I did not hear any noise from the prison cell next door, so I assumed that the clowns in the next prison cell moved out. I read Kevin Phillips' book, "American Theocracy." At about 11pm, a new set of satanic gargoyle tourists moved into the next prison cell.
Incidentally, I'm beginning to enjoy reading Phillips' book, "American Theocracy," although it is a bit thin on new information. What is surprising is that Phillips explicitly states that the purpose for the invasion of Iraq was primarily to secure access to oil reserves, protecting the dollar as the global reserve currency, and to appease the Christian "dispensationalists." Yes, nothing in his book is "news." Most of what he presents as facts have been know to many of us for over five years. Even I wrote about the latter in the journal. The "tin foil hat" stuff turned out to be true. So, why am I surprised about Phillips' late revelations? He's a Republican Party strategist, and still one of the few in that political party to speak the truth. I am just starting to read the section about radicalized religion. Phillips' is referring to the so-called "Religious Right" and the various fundamentalist Christian organizations.
I woke up at 8:05am this morning. Within ten minutes, I was out the door. I consumed a few cups of free coffee in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill before departing on the prison transport to Kahala Mall. I met moms at 10:30 at the entrance. We ate lunch at Pearl's Korean Barbeque. I was able to chat with moms for a bit. I only made a vague reference to the fact that I would be unemployed in the middle of May. I did not want to worry moms any more than necessary.
I returned to town in time to complete my one-hour of wage slavery. Gym time was at 2:15pm. Most of the cardio machines were being used, so I skipped my cardio workout. Given my fragile mental state, that may not have been a good idea. I spent the rest of the afternoon in the faculty computer room. I briefly walked to Longs® to purchase a loaf of bread and a couple of cans of Libby's® Vienna Sausage (not to be confused with the other Vienna Sausage).
It's hard to believe that my exodus from society is coming up in two months. At first, I was in shock as any good wage slave of the "system" is supposed to react. I felt betrayed and humiliated. Yet, in reviewing my history of wage slavery, I had to wonder what the "system" has done for me. I have been continuously harassed and humiliated by its agents. I've been ostracized and punished for not goosestepping with along with the myriad wage slave Nazis and fudgepackers. I've had my health benefits stripped from me. What exactly is left that begs any loyalty to the "system"? My $900 per month pittance? Give me a break.
My choice to remain unemployed given the situation may not be a wise move, I know. I have already mentioned that I will lose my pathetic income as well as lower my Social Security benefits. Of least importance, I will have zero credibility with my current associates. I have made some preparation for the upcoming transition. I have minimized my worldly possessions, and I will now state that the latter policy must become permanent. Thus, I will:
Therefore, I must define the fundamental purpose of money. For the majority of satanic gargoyles, money is for spending. And, when there isn't enough laying around, then it must be borrowed. Spending is spread across necessities and luxuries, with the latter overtaking the former in priority. The credo of the wage slave is, "Spend, spend, spend." Hence, we have wage slavery. I don't find such a credo to be workable. Thus, we must look at money in a different light. Money must be used as a tool to obtain some semblance of freedom from wage slavery. The wage slave is essentially enslaved to wages by his or her own actions, that is, the need for endless consumption. A higher standard of living with more and more "creature comforts" is not going to make wage slavery any easier to tolerate. Eventually, the walls start closing in again. Money is the tool, not us.
As I have stated previously, I do not have enough to retire by any standard. I will retire impoverished. I won't be alone. Even if I were to spend half of my net worth, I will have a savings balance higher than a good portion of the satanic gargoyles. I will subsist in mendicant conditions, but I won't be living as a filthy derelict. I will, however, be free of the abuses that must be endured as a wage slave. The psychological torture that is inflicted upon each and every wage slave takes a toll in the form of health problems. Each day, we are reminded that we are expendable. We can be replaced, if we don't toe the company line or we don't kiss someone's ass. That's the "Lester Burnham moment," the realization that we are just ordinary, and we've got nothing to lose.
Incidentally, I'm beginning to enjoy reading Phillips' book, "American Theocracy," although it is a bit thin on new information. What is surprising is that Phillips explicitly states that the purpose for the invasion of Iraq was primarily to secure access to oil reserves, protecting the dollar as the global reserve currency, and to appease the Christian "dispensationalists." Yes, nothing in his book is "news." Most of what he presents as facts have been know to many of us for over five years. Even I wrote about the latter in the journal. The "tin foil hat" stuff turned out to be true. So, why am I surprised about Phillips' late revelations? He's a Republican Party strategist, and still one of the few in that political party to speak the truth. I am just starting to read the section about radicalized religion. Phillips' is referring to the so-called "Religious Right" and the various fundamentalist Christian organizations.
I woke up at 8:05am this morning. Within ten minutes, I was out the door. I consumed a few cups of free coffee in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill before departing on the prison transport to Kahala Mall. I met moms at 10:30 at the entrance. We ate lunch at Pearl's Korean Barbeque. I was able to chat with moms for a bit. I only made a vague reference to the fact that I would be unemployed in the middle of May. I did not want to worry moms any more than necessary.
I returned to town in time to complete my one-hour of wage slavery. Gym time was at 2:15pm. Most of the cardio machines were being used, so I skipped my cardio workout. Given my fragile mental state, that may not have been a good idea. I spent the rest of the afternoon in the faculty computer room. I briefly walked to Longs® to purchase a loaf of bread and a couple of cans of Libby's® Vienna Sausage (not to be confused with the other Vienna Sausage).
It's hard to believe that my exodus from society is coming up in two months. At first, I was in shock as any good wage slave of the "system" is supposed to react. I felt betrayed and humiliated. Yet, in reviewing my history of wage slavery, I had to wonder what the "system" has done for me. I have been continuously harassed and humiliated by its agents. I've been ostracized and punished for not goosestepping with along with the myriad wage slave Nazis and fudgepackers. I've had my health benefits stripped from me. What exactly is left that begs any loyalty to the "system"? My $900 per month pittance? Give me a break.
My choice to remain unemployed given the situation may not be a wise move, I know. I have already mentioned that I will lose my pathetic income as well as lower my Social Security benefits. Of least importance, I will have zero credibility with my current associates. I have made some preparation for the upcoming transition. I have minimized my worldly possessions, and I will now state that the latter policy must become permanent. Thus, I will:
- mummify new material acquisitions from this point forward
- only purchase necessities or replacement necessities on a just-in-time (JIT) basis)
- make no effort to add to expenditures (e.g., health insurance) until other overhead is mummified
- maintain the current low standard of living until downward adjustment is necessary.
Therefore, I must define the fundamental purpose of money. For the majority of satanic gargoyles, money is for spending. And, when there isn't enough laying around, then it must be borrowed. Spending is spread across necessities and luxuries, with the latter overtaking the former in priority. The credo of the wage slave is, "Spend, spend, spend." Hence, we have wage slavery. I don't find such a credo to be workable. Thus, we must look at money in a different light. Money must be used as a tool to obtain some semblance of freedom from wage slavery. The wage slave is essentially enslaved to wages by his or her own actions, that is, the need for endless consumption. A higher standard of living with more and more "creature comforts" is not going to make wage slavery any easier to tolerate. Eventually, the walls start closing in again. Money is the tool, not us.
As I have stated previously, I do not have enough to retire by any standard. I will retire impoverished. I won't be alone. Even if I were to spend half of my net worth, I will have a savings balance higher than a good portion of the satanic gargoyles. I will subsist in mendicant conditions, but I won't be living as a filthy derelict. I will, however, be free of the abuses that must be endured as a wage slave. The psychological torture that is inflicted upon each and every wage slave takes a toll in the form of health problems. Each day, we are reminded that we are expendable. We can be replaced, if we don't toe the company line or we don't kiss someone's ass. That's the "Lester Burnham moment," the realization that we are just ordinary, and we've got nothing to lose.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Rentier's Sluice
Another evening at Barnes & Noble®. The place was crowded which made for an unenjoyable evening. I departed at 10pm. As usual, I made a horrendous decision to ride the prison transport (read: bus) to town in order to avoid the fat slob satanic gargoyles who would be stuffed aboard the prison transport destined for Waikiki. Once in town, I had to stand under a tiny prison transport stop (read: bus stop) shelter while the rain came pouring down. The prison transport heading to Waikiki finally arrived 20 minutes later. Because of the idiotic St. Patrick's Day block party in town, the prison transport was filled with drunk satanic gargoyle tourists. They were yelling and carrying on, which was really quite annoying. It's easy to see why "Americans" are so despised abroad.
I had to purchase a big-ass can of cerveza again to calm my nerves. I dropped back the whole big-ass can of cerveza in no time. The movie, "American Beauty," was playing on the tube, an odd coincidence since everything that has transpired in the last day or so qualifies as nothing other than a "Lester Burnham moment." Later, I continued to read Kevin Phillip's book, "American Theocracy." I am a little disappointed with the book. The bulk of its content appears to be a historical review, another problem that I have identified with books of this genre. To add more pages to the text, historical fodder is often added liberally. I am more concerned about comprehensive analyses of the immediate problems. So far, nothing comes close to Mike Ruppert's book, "Crossing the Rubicon." I most likely could have gleaned all of the pertinent information by simply perusing "American Theocracy" in the bookstore. That brings me to another rule. Be wary of any book that has "New York Times Bestseller" (or equivalent) emblazoned across the cover, which simply means that the book has broad appeal amongst brain donors.
I woke up at 8:30am this morning. After a prison brunch consisting of Coral® tuna and bread, I managed to procure the Sunday paper in the prison compound (read: hotel lobby) before riding to town on the prison transport. I read the paper in the lanai area of the Beretania Street Apartments. I observed a number derelicts, possibly homeless, who were occupying all of the benches in the adjacent park. An African-American derelict was yelling at the top of his lungs to no one in particular. At 11am, I purchased a large cup of coffee at Mickey Dee's®. There were two Caucasian derelicts panhandling outside the fast food joint.
As I sat and waited for the student computer lab at the Diploma Mill to open at noon, I observed an increase in the number of derelicts and homeless loitering around Fort Street Mall. Of course, I may be joining their ranks within two months when I am unemployed. Unlike the unemployment crisis that I faced back in December, the current one is more tenuous and nefarious. I had actually negotiated to facilitate a number of classes up until the end of the year. I had already been given my assignments. However, the latter has been "unassigned" (i.e., taken away from the ol' lavahead).
Once I am out of the higher education field, I do not plan to return. I am fed up with the "Generation: Me1" students with all of their narcissistic whining. I am sick of the arrogant, albeit aging, group of New Age faculty, most of whom are sociopaths or borderline schizophrenics. I will make no effort to remedy my situation at the Diploma Mill. I will let unemployment run its course. Then, for the time being, I will assume the rentier2 life-style, although I will be living at the edge of poverty.
I am not sure why I fear unemployment, even though I have both anticipated the eventuality and welcomed it. The power of the "system" lies in its ability to invoke guilt through the association of wage slavery with a person's worth. An unemployed wage slave is worthless. An unemployed wage slave will suffer from reduced Social Security benefits. An unemployed wage slave cannot make an IRA contribution. An unemployed wage slave will pay a high premium for health insurance. On and on it goes. Yet, the meaningless of rote wage slavery is only offset by rampant consumerism. The pittance of compensation derived from wage slavery is worth so little that the indentured wage slave can only find solace by increasing "creature comforts" through the acquisition of useless crap. The purchase of useless crap provides an endorphin-like response in the brain, a sense of pleasure similar to that experienced by cheap booze and drugs. And, the only way to continue the pleasurable sensation is to continue to purchase useless crap.
Gym time was at 1:30pm. As I walked in, I saw the hottie gym trainer. Baby was looking hot. I noted a testosterone surge, which made me realize that the weak mind was at play. Have I not said that the babe situation is over? The mind needs to control such a cheap display of unbridled lust. The weak mind only wastes its time on desires that will never be fulfilled. I found a reasonable substitute for babes in the form of two Cheesy Bean and Rice Burritos purchased at Taco Bell®. When all else fails, satisfy only the desires that can be fulfilled within reason and avoid falling victim to the epidemic of the "seven sins."
I spent the rest of the afternoon in the student computer lab. I received e-mail from Professor Lisa. Caroll has called three times so far and left messages. I was unable to call her back because I do not have a cell phone. Incidentally, I doubt that I will ever own a cell phone again. I will depart for Waikiki at 5pm. The evening ritual awaits.
1From the book, "Generation Me, " by Jean Twenge.
2A person who lives on income from property or investments.
I had to purchase a big-ass can of cerveza again to calm my nerves. I dropped back the whole big-ass can of cerveza in no time. The movie, "American Beauty," was playing on the tube, an odd coincidence since everything that has transpired in the last day or so qualifies as nothing other than a "Lester Burnham moment." Later, I continued to read Kevin Phillip's book, "American Theocracy." I am a little disappointed with the book. The bulk of its content appears to be a historical review, another problem that I have identified with books of this genre. To add more pages to the text, historical fodder is often added liberally. I am more concerned about comprehensive analyses of the immediate problems. So far, nothing comes close to Mike Ruppert's book, "Crossing the Rubicon." I most likely could have gleaned all of the pertinent information by simply perusing "American Theocracy" in the bookstore. That brings me to another rule. Be wary of any book that has "New York Times Bestseller" (or equivalent) emblazoned across the cover, which simply means that the book has broad appeal amongst brain donors.
I woke up at 8:30am this morning. After a prison brunch consisting of Coral® tuna and bread, I managed to procure the Sunday paper in the prison compound (read: hotel lobby) before riding to town on the prison transport. I read the paper in the lanai area of the Beretania Street Apartments. I observed a number derelicts, possibly homeless, who were occupying all of the benches in the adjacent park. An African-American derelict was yelling at the top of his lungs to no one in particular. At 11am, I purchased a large cup of coffee at Mickey Dee's®. There were two Caucasian derelicts panhandling outside the fast food joint.
As I sat and waited for the student computer lab at the Diploma Mill to open at noon, I observed an increase in the number of derelicts and homeless loitering around Fort Street Mall. Of course, I may be joining their ranks within two months when I am unemployed. Unlike the unemployment crisis that I faced back in December, the current one is more tenuous and nefarious. I had actually negotiated to facilitate a number of classes up until the end of the year. I had already been given my assignments. However, the latter has been "unassigned" (i.e., taken away from the ol' lavahead).
Once I am out of the higher education field, I do not plan to return. I am fed up with the "Generation: Me1" students with all of their narcissistic whining. I am sick of the arrogant, albeit aging, group of New Age faculty, most of whom are sociopaths or borderline schizophrenics. I will make no effort to remedy my situation at the Diploma Mill. I will let unemployment run its course. Then, for the time being, I will assume the rentier2 life-style, although I will be living at the edge of poverty.
I am not sure why I fear unemployment, even though I have both anticipated the eventuality and welcomed it. The power of the "system" lies in its ability to invoke guilt through the association of wage slavery with a person's worth. An unemployed wage slave is worthless. An unemployed wage slave will suffer from reduced Social Security benefits. An unemployed wage slave cannot make an IRA contribution. An unemployed wage slave will pay a high premium for health insurance. On and on it goes. Yet, the meaningless of rote wage slavery is only offset by rampant consumerism. The pittance of compensation derived from wage slavery is worth so little that the indentured wage slave can only find solace by increasing "creature comforts" through the acquisition of useless crap. The purchase of useless crap provides an endorphin-like response in the brain, a sense of pleasure similar to that experienced by cheap booze and drugs. And, the only way to continue the pleasurable sensation is to continue to purchase useless crap.
Gym time was at 1:30pm. As I walked in, I saw the hottie gym trainer. Baby was looking hot. I noted a testosterone surge, which made me realize that the weak mind was at play. Have I not said that the babe situation is over? The mind needs to control such a cheap display of unbridled lust. The weak mind only wastes its time on desires that will never be fulfilled. I found a reasonable substitute for babes in the form of two Cheesy Bean and Rice Burritos purchased at Taco Bell®. When all else fails, satisfy only the desires that can be fulfilled within reason and avoid falling victim to the epidemic of the "seven sins."
I spent the rest of the afternoon in the student computer lab. I received e-mail from Professor Lisa. Caroll has called three times so far and left messages. I was unable to call her back because I do not have a cell phone. Incidentally, I doubt that I will ever own a cell phone again. I will depart for Waikiki at 5pm. The evening ritual awaits.
1From the book, "Generation Me, " by Jean Twenge.
2A person who lives on income from property or investments.
Saturday, March 17, 2007
Apocalypse Watch
Another evening at Barnes & Noble® has come and gone. Another big-ass can of cheap cerveza has come and gone. And, another late night of reading Kevin Phillip's book, American Theocracy," has come and gone. These are the days of our lives. Sheesh! by the way, the hottie "bookseller" was on duty. Baby was looking fine.
I was on the prison transport (read: bus) heading to town by 9 o' clock this morning. I made a pot of coffee once I was in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. Then, I walked to Safeway® as per my morning ritual. Pseudo-professor Francis and I had a nice chat over coffee. During the course of the conversation, I discovered that I have no classes for the rest of the year. Classes that were assigned to me have been mysteriously unassigned. Pseudo-professor Francis urged me to contact the department chairperson to inquire about the discrepancy. However, I noted that all of the other classes were assigned. Thus, my long-awaited removal from service is coming about in a nefarious way. The cowards could not even confront me. Remember when I had gone through the same shit at the Asylum? What a laugh! Pseudo-professors Dorothy, Emmett, and Glenn were also victims of the same crap. This is an example of how the clowns in the "system" attempt to "punish" those who do not fit in (read: conform). I am not a Nazi. I am not going to goosestep along with the myriad asswipes who prostitute themselves to the "system" just to keep the paychecks flowing. To celebrate, I deactivated my Facebook account. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaa! Oddly, while cleaning out my faculty locker, I discovered a fortune from a Panda Express® fortune cookie that I had inadvertently saved. It read, "Next Summer, you will dance to a different tune."
Unless something changes, my last paycheck will be issued at the end of May. I will then be fully unemployed. Preparation for that day of reckoning has been long in the making. I have developed various contingency plans with no idea if any of them are viable. Will I become a homeless "camper"? Will I sell the truck to raise some cash? Will I put the "condotel" unit back into the hotel rental pool? Will I be able to part with my gym membership? I cannot commit to any plan until the time comes.
The bottom line is that shit always happens faster than expected. I should have learned that lesson from my recent past. Almost every anticipated outcome occurred about one year ahead of time. Thus, I was always one year behind schedule in implementing any contingency plans. Fortunately, I have already divested most of my useless possessions. I am mobile as I can get.
I finally received the Dodge® Sprinter brochure that I had requested. So, I spent a few minutes perusing the documents. In all likelihood, I would seriously consider the Sprinter to be a viable motorhome. I am looking at a time in the future when I will be forced by economics to move away from Hawai'i. I will, however, maintain my vow to remain in Hawai'i while moms is around.
Gym time was at 1:30pm. No hottie gym trainer. Does it matter? I will have to refrain from any future references to babes. The babe situation has been over for a long time. With unemployment looming on the horizon, I will have other issues to worry about. I spent the rest of the afternoon in the faculty computer room. At 5pm, I will commence the "same ol' shit" nightly routine.
In continuing the discussion about the fall of the empire, I must add that the reason we do not see any kind of mass protests and minor league revolution is because there currently is no military conscription (read: the draft) in place as there was during the Vietnam War. The new "peacetime" military is a regular occupation. A job. That is, of course, the reason why the draft will be a last resort option for the Shrub administration. Who actually enlists in the military? We most likely would find a large cross-section from geographic areas which suffered immensely from "globalization" and from chronically impoverished areas, the "cannon fodder" 'hoods. Only when the nation's aggregate economy heads South will we see a shift in public discourse and participation. When the only job opportunities available are in the military as the "war on terror" wages on, there will be civil unrest for certain. Until then, the satanic gargoyles will indulge in the "seven sins" with not a care in the world.
The "invisible hand" that is pulling the strings from above is not happy. "If we can't have it, then no one else can." The "invisible hand" has spoken. The "invisible hand" wants the secular Apocalypse invoked now. The "bottom feeders" and "useless eaters" must be pruned from the world population in order to save the planet. The "invisible hand" wants to see the remaining population conscripted as slaves to serve as manual labor when Peak Oil takes effect. Do not toy with the "invisible hand." I, like the "invisible hand," have grown impatient. When will it happen?
I was on the prison transport (read: bus) heading to town by 9 o' clock this morning. I made a pot of coffee once I was in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. Then, I walked to Safeway® as per my morning ritual. Pseudo-professor Francis and I had a nice chat over coffee. During the course of the conversation, I discovered that I have no classes for the rest of the year. Classes that were assigned to me have been mysteriously unassigned. Pseudo-professor Francis urged me to contact the department chairperson to inquire about the discrepancy. However, I noted that all of the other classes were assigned. Thus, my long-awaited removal from service is coming about in a nefarious way. The cowards could not even confront me. Remember when I had gone through the same shit at the Asylum? What a laugh! Pseudo-professors Dorothy, Emmett, and Glenn were also victims of the same crap. This is an example of how the clowns in the "system" attempt to "punish" those who do not fit in (read: conform). I am not a Nazi. I am not going to goosestep along with the myriad asswipes who prostitute themselves to the "system" just to keep the paychecks flowing. To celebrate, I deactivated my Facebook account. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaa! Oddly, while cleaning out my faculty locker, I discovered a fortune from a Panda Express® fortune cookie that I had inadvertently saved. It read, "Next Summer, you will dance to a different tune."
Unless something changes, my last paycheck will be issued at the end of May. I will then be fully unemployed. Preparation for that day of reckoning has been long in the making. I have developed various contingency plans with no idea if any of them are viable. Will I become a homeless "camper"? Will I sell the truck to raise some cash? Will I put the "condotel" unit back into the hotel rental pool? Will I be able to part with my gym membership? I cannot commit to any plan until the time comes.
The bottom line is that shit always happens faster than expected. I should have learned that lesson from my recent past. Almost every anticipated outcome occurred about one year ahead of time. Thus, I was always one year behind schedule in implementing any contingency plans. Fortunately, I have already divested most of my useless possessions. I am mobile as I can get.
I finally received the Dodge® Sprinter brochure that I had requested. So, I spent a few minutes perusing the documents. In all likelihood, I would seriously consider the Sprinter to be a viable motorhome. I am looking at a time in the future when I will be forced by economics to move away from Hawai'i. I will, however, maintain my vow to remain in Hawai'i while moms is around.
Gym time was at 1:30pm. No hottie gym trainer. Does it matter? I will have to refrain from any future references to babes. The babe situation has been over for a long time. With unemployment looming on the horizon, I will have other issues to worry about. I spent the rest of the afternoon in the faculty computer room. At 5pm, I will commence the "same ol' shit" nightly routine.
In continuing the discussion about the fall of the empire, I must add that the reason we do not see any kind of mass protests and minor league revolution is because there currently is no military conscription (read: the draft) in place as there was during the Vietnam War. The new "peacetime" military is a regular occupation. A job. That is, of course, the reason why the draft will be a last resort option for the Shrub administration. Who actually enlists in the military? We most likely would find a large cross-section from geographic areas which suffered immensely from "globalization" and from chronically impoverished areas, the "cannon fodder" 'hoods. Only when the nation's aggregate economy heads South will we see a shift in public discourse and participation. When the only job opportunities available are in the military as the "war on terror" wages on, there will be civil unrest for certain. Until then, the satanic gargoyles will indulge in the "seven sins" with not a care in the world.
The "invisible hand" that is pulling the strings from above is not happy. "If we can't have it, then no one else can." The "invisible hand" has spoken. The "invisible hand" wants the secular Apocalypse invoked now. The "bottom feeders" and "useless eaters" must be pruned from the world population in order to save the planet. The "invisible hand" wants to see the remaining population conscripted as slaves to serve as manual labor when Peak Oil takes effect. Do not toy with the "invisible hand." I, like the "invisible hand," have grown impatient. When will it happen?
Friday, March 16, 2007
In Darkness Waiting
I could hardly wait to get to Barnes & Noble® last night. Anything to flee the dissonance of the whole Quagmire Prison (read: hotel) experience. The hottie "bookseller" was working, so that was an added plus. After meandering around, I decided to purchase "American Theocracy: The Peril and Politics of Radical Religion, Oil, and Borrowed Money in the 21st Century," by Kevin Phillips, a $17 expenditure. I departed for Waikiki at 10pm. I purchased yet another big-ass can of cerveza. Then, I sat in the prison compound (read: hotel lobby) with my new book and the big-ass can of cerveza. I dropped back the whole big-ass can of cerveza while I read "American Theocracy."
I had reservation about purchasing a self-proclaimed partisan commentary. However, I am finding that the partisan nature of author Phillips' treatise is unobtrusive. The more important message about the upcoming crises transcends party politics. It is my goal to identify the key aspects of the upcoming "fall of the empire," so to speak. I also previewed the section about US debt woes. I was floored by the consumer borrowing figures. From what I read, I should be able to just look around. Every satanic gargoyle in my periphery is way over-leveraged. They are in hock. They spend more than they earn. They would rather have a huge plasma tube than money in the bank. Oddly, I notice no symptoms of financial distress. The satanic gargoyles are happier than a clam. How is that? Did you say, "Prozac®"?
In continuing my discussion about the demise of the empire, I have concluded that there are only three possible scenarios to bring about the fall:
I left for town at 8 o' clock this morning. The ride on the prison transport (read: bus) was actually relaxing. After consuming a few cups of free coffee in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill, I sashayed over to Safeway® to purchase a loaf of bread and three energy bars. At 11am, I walked to the Institute of Hair Design to restore my monk haircut. I did my one-hour of wage slavery. Gym time was at 2:15pm. No hottie gym trainer. Boohoo. I spent the rest of the afternoon in the faculty computer lab. Same ol' shit ... Booyah! Right at this very moment, Blogger® caused me to lose the rest of "blog" entry, something that happens often when its servers frequently go off-line for no reason. I am not going to replicate the shit. Frankly, the writing is on the wall. The days of the "blog" are limited.
Earlier, I lapsed into melancholia. All I am doing is sitting around waiting for something - Peak Oil, economic collapse, secular Apocalypse, martial law, Armageddon - anything that will finally bring pain and suffering to the masses of ungrateful idiots in the "land of plenty." The rest of the world is suffering at our expense. Should we not share in the privilege as well? So, there I am waiting, and nothing is happening. Nada. Can someone please tell me when the "shit is going to hit the fan"? The thought of seeing the myriad satanic gargoyles on their knees begging for mercy makes me want to laugh my ass off. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaa! Seriously, the "land of plenty" is an alien place to me. I feel very disconnected. I do not belong here. The stress is building up. And, I have nowhere to go.
I had reservation about purchasing a self-proclaimed partisan commentary. However, I am finding that the partisan nature of author Phillips' treatise is unobtrusive. The more important message about the upcoming crises transcends party politics. It is my goal to identify the key aspects of the upcoming "fall of the empire," so to speak. I also previewed the section about US debt woes. I was floored by the consumer borrowing figures. From what I read, I should be able to just look around. Every satanic gargoyle in my periphery is way over-leveraged. They are in hock. They spend more than they earn. They would rather have a huge plasma tube than money in the bank. Oddly, I notice no symptoms of financial distress. The satanic gargoyles are happier than a clam. How is that? Did you say, "Prozac®"?
In continuing my discussion about the demise of the empire, I have concluded that there are only three possible scenarios to bring about the fall:
- Long-term oil supply disruption or Peak Oil
- General strike waged by proletariat wage slaves
- All-out revolution or protests staged by masses
I left for town at 8 o' clock this morning. The ride on the prison transport (read: bus) was actually relaxing. After consuming a few cups of free coffee in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill, I sashayed over to Safeway® to purchase a loaf of bread and three energy bars. At 11am, I walked to the Institute of Hair Design to restore my monk haircut. I did my one-hour of wage slavery. Gym time was at 2:15pm. No hottie gym trainer. Boohoo. I spent the rest of the afternoon in the faculty computer lab. Same ol' shit ... Booyah! Right at this very moment, Blogger® caused me to lose the rest of "blog" entry, something that happens often when its servers frequently go off-line for no reason. I am not going to replicate the shit. Frankly, the writing is on the wall. The days of the "blog" are limited.
Earlier, I lapsed into melancholia. All I am doing is sitting around waiting for something - Peak Oil, economic collapse, secular Apocalypse, martial law, Armageddon - anything that will finally bring pain and suffering to the masses of ungrateful idiots in the "land of plenty." The rest of the world is suffering at our expense. Should we not share in the privilege as well? So, there I am waiting, and nothing is happening. Nada. Can someone please tell me when the "shit is going to hit the fan"? The thought of seeing the myriad satanic gargoyles on their knees begging for mercy makes me want to laugh my ass off. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaa! Seriously, the "land of plenty" is an alien place to me. I feel very disconnected. I do not belong here. The stress is building up. And, I have nowhere to go.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Ides of March (Yet Again)
Another evening at Barnes & Noble®. No hottie "bookseller." Boohoo. I have been trying to ascertain what my next book purchase will be. Mike Ruppert's book, "Crossing the Rubicon," will be a hard act to follow. I perused Kevin Phillips' book, "American Theocracy," again. The book is aimed at disgruntled Republicans who are distancing themselves from the Shrub administration. Thus, it is written from a partisan perspective. The book is still quite absorbing. I was intrigued by his coverage of the debt and trade deficit crisis.
Phillips and other such as Chalmers Johnson have been sounding the klaxons about the impending fall of the empire. There are three conditions that have historically befallen other empires:
It is my guess that the bursting of the so-called "housing bubble" may cascade upward from the subprime market to the portions of the prime market. Clearly, there will be a huge transfer of wealth to the moneychangers and the powers-that-be. Then, the newly impoverished will become invisible. How do we know? Well, have we heard anything from the thousands of people who were displaced by Hurricane Katrina? How about the millions who became unemployed when domestic jobs were either exported or outsourced? How about the victims of the recent round of tornadoes? Nada. As I mentioned before, if something does not seem right, then it isn't. Common sense. Will the empire fall as a result? I seriously doubt it.
The much awaited fall of the empire will most likely not come about because the government goes bankrupt. In further analysis, I am not even sure if the latter is even a possibility. The "system" is essentially money. The moneychangers and powers-that-be were clever enough to rig the "system" in favor of the dollar. The value of the dollar is based its value as a trading currency for oil, which guarantees that all central banks will maintain large dollar currency reserves. That alone give the dollar "weight." The World Bank and the IMF are essentially tools of the "system." Both organizations loan money to other countries with stiff stipulations for trade exclusivity with the US, establishing and maintaining dollar currency reserves, and floating the native currency with respect to the dollar. Large trading partners incur huge trade surpluses in the form of excess dollars, which are then "loaned" back to the US by purchasing US-backed securities. Because the economies of the trading partners are intimately tied to the prosperity of the US, there will be no attempt to "upset the apple cart." Essentially, the US makes the rules, even though the other nations have the dough. If all else fails, the dollar will be backed up by the military. In a nutshell, we call that the "globalization of money."
Large sums of money are moving in and out of the "system." The Fed is almost assuredly injecting large sums of money into the "system" using a dual-book accounting method. In other words, the books are "cooked," just as we witnessed in the Enron® scandal. The "cooked" books are used to keep inflation figures in check and to give the appearance of a strong economy. Money is also rapidly flowing out of the "system" through corruption and theft. And, if Mike Ruppert is correct, money is flowing back through the "system" by means of government-sponsored illegal drug trafficking. When the Inspector General for several governmental agencies cannot explain where or why large amounts of funds disappeared, then something is clearly wrong. The former USSR was in a similar bind before it fell apart. However, the ruble did not have the "mass" or "inertia" of the dollar and, hence, the Soviet economy simply collapsed from soaring debt. Because of the tightly knit Ponzi scheme that the dollar enjoys, its enormous weight as the world reserve currency, its implicit backing by the military, and its virtually unchecked inflow and outflow, there is very little chance the US empire will follow in the footsteps of the former Soviet Union.
I have been using the "Thunder Storm" setting on my Brookstone® Tranquil Moments® "sound therapy placebo" for the past two days. Seems to be working very well. I slept as soundly as possible given the pathetic circumstances. I was amused that, in waking up a couple of times during the course of the night, I had actually thought that a storm was in progress.
I departed for town at 8 o' clock this morning. After a few cups of free coffee in the faculty computer room, I was sufficiently cognizant to make the trek to Safeway® to purchase the exact same items that I did yesterday. I completed my one-hour of indentured wage slavery. Gym time was at 2:15pm. No hottie gym trainer. Boohoo. I spent the rest of the afternoon in the faculty computer room. Essentially, I'm just sitting around and waiting for the empire to fall. Beware the Ides of March1. Sheesh!
1 Because of William Shakespeare's play "Julius Caesar" and its line "Beware the Ides of March," the term "Ides of March" has come to mean a foreboding of doom.
Phillips and other such as Chalmers Johnson have been sounding the klaxons about the impending fall of the empire. There are three conditions that have historically befallen other empires:
- Global (i.e., military) over-reach and imperialism
- Radicalized religion
- Soaring debt and deficits
It is my guess that the bursting of the so-called "housing bubble" may cascade upward from the subprime market to the portions of the prime market. Clearly, there will be a huge transfer of wealth to the moneychangers and the powers-that-be. Then, the newly impoverished will become invisible. How do we know? Well, have we heard anything from the thousands of people who were displaced by Hurricane Katrina? How about the millions who became unemployed when domestic jobs were either exported or outsourced? How about the victims of the recent round of tornadoes? Nada. As I mentioned before, if something does not seem right, then it isn't. Common sense. Will the empire fall as a result? I seriously doubt it.
The much awaited fall of the empire will most likely not come about because the government goes bankrupt. In further analysis, I am not even sure if the latter is even a possibility. The "system" is essentially money. The moneychangers and powers-that-be were clever enough to rig the "system" in favor of the dollar. The value of the dollar is based its value as a trading currency for oil, which guarantees that all central banks will maintain large dollar currency reserves. That alone give the dollar "weight." The World Bank and the IMF are essentially tools of the "system." Both organizations loan money to other countries with stiff stipulations for trade exclusivity with the US, establishing and maintaining dollar currency reserves, and floating the native currency with respect to the dollar. Large trading partners incur huge trade surpluses in the form of excess dollars, which are then "loaned" back to the US by purchasing US-backed securities. Because the economies of the trading partners are intimately tied to the prosperity of the US, there will be no attempt to "upset the apple cart." Essentially, the US makes the rules, even though the other nations have the dough. If all else fails, the dollar will be backed up by the military. In a nutshell, we call that the "globalization of money."
Large sums of money are moving in and out of the "system." The Fed is almost assuredly injecting large sums of money into the "system" using a dual-book accounting method. In other words, the books are "cooked," just as we witnessed in the Enron® scandal. The "cooked" books are used to keep inflation figures in check and to give the appearance of a strong economy. Money is also rapidly flowing out of the "system" through corruption and theft. And, if Mike Ruppert is correct, money is flowing back through the "system" by means of government-sponsored illegal drug trafficking. When the Inspector General for several governmental agencies cannot explain where or why large amounts of funds disappeared, then something is clearly wrong. The former USSR was in a similar bind before it fell apart. However, the ruble did not have the "mass" or "inertia" of the dollar and, hence, the Soviet economy simply collapsed from soaring debt. Because of the tightly knit Ponzi scheme that the dollar enjoys, its enormous weight as the world reserve currency, its implicit backing by the military, and its virtually unchecked inflow and outflow, there is very little chance the US empire will follow in the footsteps of the former Soviet Union.
I have been using the "Thunder Storm" setting on my Brookstone® Tranquil Moments® "sound therapy placebo" for the past two days. Seems to be working very well. I slept as soundly as possible given the pathetic circumstances. I was amused that, in waking up a couple of times during the course of the night, I had actually thought that a storm was in progress.
I departed for town at 8 o' clock this morning. After a few cups of free coffee in the faculty computer room, I was sufficiently cognizant to make the trek to Safeway® to purchase the exact same items that I did yesterday. I completed my one-hour of indentured wage slavery. Gym time was at 2:15pm. No hottie gym trainer. Boohoo. I spent the rest of the afternoon in the faculty computer room. Essentially, I'm just sitting around and waiting for the empire to fall. Beware the Ides of March1. Sheesh!
1 Because of William Shakespeare's play "Julius Caesar" and its line "Beware the Ides of March," the term "Ides of March" has come to mean a foreboding of doom.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Glock® Vanity
My nightly ritual found me seeking refuge at Barnes & Noble®. I had to escape from the continuous slammin' soirée from yet another new batch of satanic gargoyle tourists. I am constantly befuddled by the fact that many of them just love to sit in the tiny dump, chain smoke cigarettes, watch the tube, and slam all the drawers for hours on end. Barnes & Noble® is my only retreat from the madness, sad to say. The hottie "bookseller" was on duty. Baby was looking fine, by the way. I perused a couple of new books:
Once again, I purchased a big-ass can of cheap brewski before I went into lockdown in my prison cell (read: little shoebox). The slammin' soirée continued unabated until 12:45am. I finally completed Mike Ruppert's book, "Crossing the Rubicon." I will say that I haven't been the same since reading it. I continued to reflect upon "Rubicon" while I waited for the noise to subside. I believe that Ruppert is at least 90 percent correct in his analysis, which makes "Rubicon" one of the most factual books available.
I have become significantly disillusioned. I know, I keep saying that all the time. I wonder how the myriad satanic gargoyles can actually live with themselves. I can conceptualize the psychological damage incurred by the epidemic of the "seven sins." I can grasp that greed can supplant any virtue. Yet, I do not understand how the human conscience can be silenced and subverted to nefarious ends. Even in its most benign state, the human conscience should be able to determine basic morality. Yet, we are all running amuck and seeking only to gratify our hedonistic tendencies and our narcissistic needs. Even the most benign of materialistic behavior has an adverse impact on the planet as a whole. What I am trying to say is that we need to understand the ramifications of our life-style. We only live well because, by chance, we were born into the "privileged1" society. Other not-so-privileged societies are paying the price, usually with their lives, so we can enjoy and indulge in our self-importance.
I hear not one satanic gargoyle express any kind of gratitude for such a comfortable life-style. No one expresses remorse over the fact that a significant portion of the world population must live in abject poverty or must be the "collateral damage" of war so that a few can extract more than their fair share. No one even attempts to recognize some kind of complicity in this abomination. And, no one even feels compelled to curtail life-style excesses as a means to reduce complicity. There is absolutely no guilt whatsoever. These things, I see every day. I have grown weary. The injustice breaks my heart. If I bring up such issues in conversation, I am privy to hear stupid statements as, "Well, why don't you give away all your money?" or "Why don't you move to such-and-such and live there?" What is in the hearts and minds of these evil satanic gargoyles? Can they no longer feel compassion? Can they not see the error of their ways? Are they that conceited? That, my friends, is a sure sign that our own so-called "society" is rotten to the core.
Is the end of our so-called "society" and the US empire near? That's hard to say. The "system" has so much "mass" that its "inertia" is hard to break. Even with its rotted-out core, the sheer mass of the hollow shell is enough to keep it going for a while. Look at how the stock market made another "miraculous" recovery after a second "correction," this one related to the impending collapse of the subprime mortgage market. What is this "inertia" that I refer to? The epidemic of the "seven sins," of course, specifically greed and gluttony. Evil is a very powerful and synergistic force when it is called upon. And, evil begets more evil.
In my revised analysis, I am now convinced that the secular Apocalypse has already commenced. I had expected the "end" to be more polished, but evildoers are often rushed because they know that their time is limited. I can sense that something is drastically wrong. I must confess that I am oftentimes confronted with denial as well. However, that's when common sense must prevail. If something does not add up or present a clear picture, then that something must be wrong. We have seen this theme repeat itself and increase in frequency over the years. The discrepancies can no longer be ignored. Something is terribly wrong, and that something is now totally out of control.
Well, I had to apply the "Brookstone® treatment2" in an attempt to mask out the noise from the next prison cell. Needless to say, I did not sleep well. I woke up fairly early. I was on the prison transport (read: bus) to town at 8:05am. After a few cups of free coffee in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill, I walked to Safeway® to purchase four energy bars and two lard-filled Tina's® burritos. I did my one-hour of wage slavery. Gym time was at 2:15pm. No hottie gym trainer. Boohoo. Later, I spent more time in the faculty computer room. The evening? Same ol' shit.
My guess is that I will have to procure a Glock® 9mm (read: the "nine") or equivalent sometime in the near future. In the initial stages of the breakdown of society, there will be chaos. Aside from the police and the military, there will large bands of private security forces (e.g., Blackwater®, etc.), militias, armed marauders, and criminal elements running loose. I suspect that law and order will cease to exist within five days. That's when the command structure of law enforcement and military agencies will breakdown.
The Glock 9mm is probably the only other costly material acquisition that I need to make. Yes, sometimes I wonder why I have made the sacrifice to limit my useless possessions. However, it has taken me many years to realize that all the crap that I have purchased in my lifetime was just a waste of time and money. I did not need any of it. I just had to keep up with everyone else, I suppose. My identity was determined by my possessions as was my social status. Oh, the vanity!
1As Shrub stated, "The American life is not negotiable."
2Treatment using the Brookstone® "sound therapy placebo."
- "American Theocracy: The Peril and Politics of Radical Religion, Oil, and Borrowed Money in the 21st Century" - Kevin Phillips
- "Licensed to Kill: Hired Guns in the War on Terror" - Robert Pelton
Once again, I purchased a big-ass can of cheap brewski before I went into lockdown in my prison cell (read: little shoebox). The slammin' soirée continued unabated until 12:45am. I finally completed Mike Ruppert's book, "Crossing the Rubicon." I will say that I haven't been the same since reading it. I continued to reflect upon "Rubicon" while I waited for the noise to subside. I believe that Ruppert is at least 90 percent correct in his analysis, which makes "Rubicon" one of the most factual books available.
I have become significantly disillusioned. I know, I keep saying that all the time. I wonder how the myriad satanic gargoyles can actually live with themselves. I can conceptualize the psychological damage incurred by the epidemic of the "seven sins." I can grasp that greed can supplant any virtue. Yet, I do not understand how the human conscience can be silenced and subverted to nefarious ends. Even in its most benign state, the human conscience should be able to determine basic morality. Yet, we are all running amuck and seeking only to gratify our hedonistic tendencies and our narcissistic needs. Even the most benign of materialistic behavior has an adverse impact on the planet as a whole. What I am trying to say is that we need to understand the ramifications of our life-style. We only live well because, by chance, we were born into the "privileged1" society. Other not-so-privileged societies are paying the price, usually with their lives, so we can enjoy and indulge in our self-importance.
I hear not one satanic gargoyle express any kind of gratitude for such a comfortable life-style. No one expresses remorse over the fact that a significant portion of the world population must live in abject poverty or must be the "collateral damage" of war so that a few can extract more than their fair share. No one even attempts to recognize some kind of complicity in this abomination. And, no one even feels compelled to curtail life-style excesses as a means to reduce complicity. There is absolutely no guilt whatsoever. These things, I see every day. I have grown weary. The injustice breaks my heart. If I bring up such issues in conversation, I am privy to hear stupid statements as, "Well, why don't you give away all your money?" or "Why don't you move to such-and-such and live there?" What is in the hearts and minds of these evil satanic gargoyles? Can they no longer feel compassion? Can they not see the error of their ways? Are they that conceited? That, my friends, is a sure sign that our own so-called "society" is rotten to the core.
Is the end of our so-called "society" and the US empire near? That's hard to say. The "system" has so much "mass" that its "inertia" is hard to break. Even with its rotted-out core, the sheer mass of the hollow shell is enough to keep it going for a while. Look at how the stock market made another "miraculous" recovery after a second "correction," this one related to the impending collapse of the subprime mortgage market. What is this "inertia" that I refer to? The epidemic of the "seven sins," of course, specifically greed and gluttony. Evil is a very powerful and synergistic force when it is called upon. And, evil begets more evil.
In my revised analysis, I am now convinced that the secular Apocalypse has already commenced. I had expected the "end" to be more polished, but evildoers are often rushed because they know that their time is limited. I can sense that something is drastically wrong. I must confess that I am oftentimes confronted with denial as well. However, that's when common sense must prevail. If something does not add up or present a clear picture, then that something must be wrong. We have seen this theme repeat itself and increase in frequency over the years. The discrepancies can no longer be ignored. Something is terribly wrong, and that something is now totally out of control.
Well, I had to apply the "Brookstone® treatment2" in an attempt to mask out the noise from the next prison cell. Needless to say, I did not sleep well. I woke up fairly early. I was on the prison transport (read: bus) to town at 8:05am. After a few cups of free coffee in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill, I walked to Safeway® to purchase four energy bars and two lard-filled Tina's® burritos. I did my one-hour of wage slavery. Gym time was at 2:15pm. No hottie gym trainer. Boohoo. Later, I spent more time in the faculty computer room. The evening? Same ol' shit.
My guess is that I will have to procure a Glock® 9mm (read: the "nine") or equivalent sometime in the near future. In the initial stages of the breakdown of society, there will be chaos. Aside from the police and the military, there will large bands of private security forces (e.g., Blackwater®, etc.), militias, armed marauders, and criminal elements running loose. I suspect that law and order will cease to exist within five days. That's when the command structure of law enforcement and military agencies will breakdown.
The Glock 9mm is probably the only other costly material acquisition that I need to make. Yes, sometimes I wonder why I have made the sacrifice to limit my useless possessions. However, it has taken me many years to realize that all the crap that I have purchased in my lifetime was just a waste of time and money. I did not need any of it. I just had to keep up with everyone else, I suppose. My identity was determined by my possessions as was my social status. Oh, the vanity!
1As Shrub stated, "The American life is not negotiable."
2Treatment using the Brookstone® "sound therapy placebo."
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Follow the Money
I followed the usual ritual last night. I was at Barnes & Noble® at 9pm. The hottie "bookseller" was on duty. Baby was looking fine. One of the café baristas was passing out samples of a new coffee drink to customers. The only person that he did not offer a sample was the ol' lavahead. Was the fact that the clown was Caucasian, and he was only serving Caucasian satanic gargoyles a coincidence? I think not.
The perception of "brown skins" in Hawai'i by the various White Supremacists, either expatriate mainlanders or tourists, is the same as observed anywhere else. No matter what the racist fools say, they are simply flapping their blubberous jowls and paying lip service in the name of "political correctness." Deep below the thin ivory skin is a deep-seated belief of superior genes, superior intellect, and the usual Aryan-type arguments. All of that is top-down thinking from the elite class of moneychangers and powers-that-be, which is comprised primarily of White Supremacists. What else can explain the mandate to exterminate the "brown skins" in the Middle East and Central Asia? What compels them to promote the genocide of the "black skins" in various nations of Africa? Why do they feel entitled to the rich resources sitting on or under the land of the "colored" peoples? Finally, it all filters down to the minimum wage slave barista, a glorified soda jerk, who could not offer a free sample to a racially inferior savage.
I departed for Waikiki at 10pm. Once again, I had to procure a big-ass can of cheap brewski in order to better facilitate the reading of Mike Ruppert's book, "Crossing the Rubicon," once I was back in lockdown in my prison cell (read: little shoebox). I am only a handful of pages away from completing the reading of the entire book. I noted that the original printing of the book was in 2004. Thus, I am now privy to witness whether Ruppert's prognostications were correct or not. So far, many of the dire predictions have fallen to the wayside. Everything is even rosier than before, or at least that's what the "mainstream" media is telling us. Yet, for me, I am seeing the workings of the "Dark Side" laying dormant, waiting for the appropriate time to spring itself upon an unsuspecting populace. Ruppert stops short of predicting the secular Apocalypse (i.e., a radical vision of population control), although he is apparently keenly aware of the latter. Why else would he devote an entire chapter to biological warfare?
I was back in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill by 9 o' clock this morning. Lately, I have noted that one hour of time elapses from when I walk up to the prison transport stop (read: bus stop) in Waikiki until I alight the prison transport (read: bus) in town. In fact, I have spending a disproportionate amount of time waiting for and riding the prison transport. Yesterday, that benign activity consumed about 4 hours of time for six one-way trips of less than four miles each. Alas, that is the plight of the poor and destitute, eh?
After a few cups of free coffee, I walked to Safeway® and Longs® to purchase some energy bars and a loaf of bread, respectively. I did my one-hour of wage slavery. Gym time was at 2:15pm.
During my weight workout, I was privy to see the hottie gym trainer. Baby was busy with a gym member. Baby was looking extremely hot. As to be expected, I experienced a testosterone surge. I was able to extend my sets and even increase the weight. After I finished my cardio workout and shower, I departed for the Diploma Mill and noticed that baby was nowhere in sight. Boohoo. I spent the rest of the afternoon in the faculty computer room awaiting my nightly ritual.
Here's a peculiar tidbit. Petrol prices are apparently rising on the mainland. In some areas, petrol is running over $3 per gallon. The petrol prices in Hawai'i have historically been much higher than all mainland markets, even with the now-defunct "gas cap" law. Aside from the 11-cent per gallon tax increase on January 1st, the price of petrol in Hawai'i has remained the same for over six months. On average, the price per gallon is $2.78 for the lowest grade of petrol. Why the discrepancy? This minor anecdote has major implications. I suspect that petrol prices are being kept artificially low across the US. One good indicator is diesel fuel, which is running about $3.50 per gallon. The difference does not make sense. Keeping petrol prices low will forestall a major US economic downturn.
I am convinced that only factor will cause an economic meltdown, specifically the supply volatility of oil (e.g., embargo, supply disruption, infrastructural damage, or Peak Oil). Even now, as the subprime mortgage market in the US is collapsing and the incursion into Iraq is escalating, there is no sign of financial doom. Red ink is everywhere. Yet, I suspect that there is an on-going infusion of money by the Plunge Protection Team into the "system." All that talk about the huge dollar reserves held by China and Japan are superfluous. Neither nation will do anything to jeopardize the "gravy train." There will be no sell-off. Yes, there will be "corrections" in the stock and bond markets, but the common fool will not be affected. Only a "crash" will serve to separate a fool from his money (i.e., transfer of wealth to the elite), much in the same way as the collapse of the subprime mortgage market.
Several financial "pundits" are still suggesting gold and precious metals as a hedge against any economic collapse. I am not certain whether precious metals are a good investment at all, especially in view of the on-going allegations of price fixing. I can only see three possible scenarios to justify the holding of precious metals:
The alternative media has not even reacted to the news that the Democratic Party leadership removed language1 from the Supplemental Appropriations bill which now gives the Shrub administration carte blanche to take military action against Iran. Only a brief article appeared yesterday of which I reported in the "blog." Iran is allegedly still set on opening up its oil bourse which will trade in Euros. And, of course, it refuses to desist from its uranium enrichment program. Sounds like big trouble in Persia, eh?
1No funds may be authorized for military operations in or related to Iran unless specifically authorized by the Congress.
The perception of "brown skins" in Hawai'i by the various White Supremacists, either expatriate mainlanders or tourists, is the same as observed anywhere else. No matter what the racist fools say, they are simply flapping their blubberous jowls and paying lip service in the name of "political correctness." Deep below the thin ivory skin is a deep-seated belief of superior genes, superior intellect, and the usual Aryan-type arguments. All of that is top-down thinking from the elite class of moneychangers and powers-that-be, which is comprised primarily of White Supremacists. What else can explain the mandate to exterminate the "brown skins" in the Middle East and Central Asia? What compels them to promote the genocide of the "black skins" in various nations of Africa? Why do they feel entitled to the rich resources sitting on or under the land of the "colored" peoples? Finally, it all filters down to the minimum wage slave barista, a glorified soda jerk, who could not offer a free sample to a racially inferior savage.
I departed for Waikiki at 10pm. Once again, I had to procure a big-ass can of cheap brewski in order to better facilitate the reading of Mike Ruppert's book, "Crossing the Rubicon," once I was back in lockdown in my prison cell (read: little shoebox). I am only a handful of pages away from completing the reading of the entire book. I noted that the original printing of the book was in 2004. Thus, I am now privy to witness whether Ruppert's prognostications were correct or not. So far, many of the dire predictions have fallen to the wayside. Everything is even rosier than before, or at least that's what the "mainstream" media is telling us. Yet, for me, I am seeing the workings of the "Dark Side" laying dormant, waiting for the appropriate time to spring itself upon an unsuspecting populace. Ruppert stops short of predicting the secular Apocalypse (i.e., a radical vision of population control), although he is apparently keenly aware of the latter. Why else would he devote an entire chapter to biological warfare?
I was back in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill by 9 o' clock this morning. Lately, I have noted that one hour of time elapses from when I walk up to the prison transport stop (read: bus stop) in Waikiki until I alight the prison transport (read: bus) in town. In fact, I have spending a disproportionate amount of time waiting for and riding the prison transport. Yesterday, that benign activity consumed about 4 hours of time for six one-way trips of less than four miles each. Alas, that is the plight of the poor and destitute, eh?
After a few cups of free coffee, I walked to Safeway® and Longs® to purchase some energy bars and a loaf of bread, respectively. I did my one-hour of wage slavery. Gym time was at 2:15pm.
During my weight workout, I was privy to see the hottie gym trainer. Baby was busy with a gym member. Baby was looking extremely hot. As to be expected, I experienced a testosterone surge. I was able to extend my sets and even increase the weight. After I finished my cardio workout and shower, I departed for the Diploma Mill and noticed that baby was nowhere in sight. Boohoo. I spent the rest of the afternoon in the faculty computer room awaiting my nightly ritual.
Here's a peculiar tidbit. Petrol prices are apparently rising on the mainland. In some areas, petrol is running over $3 per gallon. The petrol prices in Hawai'i have historically been much higher than all mainland markets, even with the now-defunct "gas cap" law. Aside from the 11-cent per gallon tax increase on January 1st, the price of petrol in Hawai'i has remained the same for over six months. On average, the price per gallon is $2.78 for the lowest grade of petrol. Why the discrepancy? This minor anecdote has major implications. I suspect that petrol prices are being kept artificially low across the US. One good indicator is diesel fuel, which is running about $3.50 per gallon. The difference does not make sense. Keeping petrol prices low will forestall a major US economic downturn.
I am convinced that only factor will cause an economic meltdown, specifically the supply volatility of oil (e.g., embargo, supply disruption, infrastructural damage, or Peak Oil). Even now, as the subprime mortgage market in the US is collapsing and the incursion into Iraq is escalating, there is no sign of financial doom. Red ink is everywhere. Yet, I suspect that there is an on-going infusion of money by the Plunge Protection Team into the "system." All that talk about the huge dollar reserves held by China and Japan are superfluous. Neither nation will do anything to jeopardize the "gravy train." There will be no sell-off. Yes, there will be "corrections" in the stock and bond markets, but the common fool will not be affected. Only a "crash" will serve to separate a fool from his money (i.e., transfer of wealth to the elite), much in the same way as the collapse of the subprime mortgage market.
Several financial "pundits" are still suggesting gold and precious metals as a hedge against any economic collapse. I am not certain whether precious metals are a good investment at all, especially in view of the on-going allegations of price fixing. I can only see three possible scenarios to justify the holding of precious metals:
- Devaluation of the dollar
- Government insolvency
- Repudiation of government debt
The alternative media has not even reacted to the news that the Democratic Party leadership removed language1 from the Supplemental Appropriations bill which now gives the Shrub administration carte blanche to take military action against Iran. Only a brief article appeared yesterday of which I reported in the "blog." Iran is allegedly still set on opening up its oil bourse which will trade in Euros. And, of course, it refuses to desist from its uranium enrichment program. Sounds like big trouble in Persia, eh?
1No funds may be authorized for military operations in or related to Iran unless specifically authorized by the Congress.
Monday, March 12, 2007
Monolith
As I stood at the prison transport stop (read: bus stop) yesterday, I observed two homeless couples sitting in Chinatown Gateway Park. One couple has lived in the park now for at least two month. They have a dog, too. The other couple is a recent arrival. They had two shopping carts full of stuff. It's easy to tell that they were new to the homeless life. The shopping carts looked fairly new. Their stuff was haphazardly stacked in the carts, but nothing was draped along the sides. Both couples were very clean overall and appear to be in their thirties and forties. I surmise that they were formerly living in apartment complexes until the rents went up. Rental increases have almost doubled (typically from $800 to $1200 for a one-bedroom apartment) in the last two years.
What is amazing to me is that the couples are staying together despite the adversity that struck them. Yet, I have to wonder about what kind of future they envision for themselves. It will take a miracle for either couple to return to the "mainstream." At best, they can expect to graduate from the park to one of the homeless shelters. After that, it's a dead-end street. Well, at least they have each other. A sad story, but one that will repeat itself over and over again here in "paradise."
There was no prison transport (read: bus) for 35 minutes. The ride back to Waikiki was slow because Kalakau'a Avenue was closed for yet another idiotic parade. Same ol' shit. If you've seen one parade, you've seen them all. There's a parade every other week in Waikiki, and all that happens is that the traffic is totally congested and the prison transports are extremely late. The parades are always pathetic. Small-time crap with cloned, generic tourist-oriented floats. Only a "hick" from Bumfuckville would be impressed. I am even more appalled that the impoverished locals are so excited to act as trained monkeys and perform for the satanic gargoyle tourists. This week's parade was in celebration of the Honolulu Festival.
I skipped my prison dinner. After cleaning my prison cell (read: little shoebox) with my humble dustpan and brush, I left at 8pm to begin my evening ritual at Barnes & Noble®. Once there, I observed that the hottie "bookseller" was on duty. Baby was looking hot. On the way back to Quagmire Prison, I obtained a big-ass can of Coors® Light brewski. I dropped back the whole big-ass can of brewski and continued to read Mike Ruppert's book, "Crossing the Rubicon." Same ol' shit every night.
Throughout the evening, I questioned my obsession with the "blog." Why am I wasting so much time with it? What is it substituting for? It is a chore now for me to write it since I have yet to live up to it's stated purpose as "The Exodus Files." How many years have I sacrificed for both the "blog" and the journal? Eleven? Why? Incidentally, I composed portions of this "blog" entry on my beloved Palm® TX and sent it as e-mail via the Apple® Store wireless network.
I always look forward to Monday because that is the one and only day that I meet moms for lunch, and possibly the only event that affords any meaning to my paltry existence. Today was no exception. I met moms at the entrance to Kahala Mall at 10:45am. Moms and I ate lunch at the Panda Express®. Moms showed me some kind of growth on her left eye that has been there for a week. I urged moms to have have it checked out right away. I was able to chat with moms for a bit before parting company. It is always sad for me to say good-bye. By the way, there's a new Apple® Store in Kahala Mall.
I did my one-hour of wage slavery. Gym time was at 2:15pm. I was in a daze during my workout, No, the hottie gym trainer was not there. I was contemplating the sheer folly of human history and how meaningless life has become in the face of greed. As I near completion of Ruppert's book, "Rubicon," I cannot help but wonder if there is any future for humanity. Aside from the Good Book, where can I find the truth except in "Rubicon"? One fact was made perfectly clear by Ruppert: we are seeing the same clowns resurrected over and over again in various levels of government and business. Sometimes they cycle back and forth through both entities. When are these fossils going to keel over? At that point, I realized that the game is over.
In my perusal of many other books at Barnes & Noble®, I found only one or two worthy of purchase. Right now, I doubt that anything could top "Rubicon." There are quite a few books in the genre of exposés. However, all of them are authored by political shills and corporate sycophants of the "system1." A few are written by so-called "pundits" and celebrities from the "mainstream" media. I am convinced that a confederacy of dunces has been commissioned to saturate the bookshelves with misinformation, propaganda, and hype. The books authored by the confederacy are dangerous because they feed into an already pronounced sociopathic and psychopathic consciousness that pervades our entire culture. I have warned about books that use the word, "jihad," in the title. Now, stay clear of books that deal with the "global war on terror." They only serve the purpose of deconstructing our thinking processes and our moral resolve. The theme is the same:
In some respects, there is no escape from the "system." Just about every aspect of our lives has been infiltrated by the malignant tumor-like reach and machinations of the "system." Sooner or later, our defenses will break down, and we will accept the lies and falsehoods spewed by agents of the "system" to be fact. The reduction of all critical thinking processes by means of the consumerist mentality has also facilitated the easy inflow of propaganda into the weak mind. Consumerism also anesthetizes the "heart and soul" of the individual. Hence, all human compassion is lost amongst the myriad useless possession stacked about the ol' mausoleum (read: tomb) in a vain attempt to bolster social status and "self-esteem." What we are observing is a massive collective mental illness that continues growing and festering, the rot that will eventually topple the monolithic empire from within as well as the foolish individual who dares not heed the symptomatology.
1Moneychangers and powers-that-be.
What is amazing to me is that the couples are staying together despite the adversity that struck them. Yet, I have to wonder about what kind of future they envision for themselves. It will take a miracle for either couple to return to the "mainstream." At best, they can expect to graduate from the park to one of the homeless shelters. After that, it's a dead-end street. Well, at least they have each other. A sad story, but one that will repeat itself over and over again here in "paradise."
There was no prison transport (read: bus) for 35 minutes. The ride back to Waikiki was slow because Kalakau'a Avenue was closed for yet another idiotic parade. Same ol' shit. If you've seen one parade, you've seen them all. There's a parade every other week in Waikiki, and all that happens is that the traffic is totally congested and the prison transports are extremely late. The parades are always pathetic. Small-time crap with cloned, generic tourist-oriented floats. Only a "hick" from Bumfuckville would be impressed. I am even more appalled that the impoverished locals are so excited to act as trained monkeys and perform for the satanic gargoyle tourists. This week's parade was in celebration of the Honolulu Festival.
I skipped my prison dinner. After cleaning my prison cell (read: little shoebox) with my humble dustpan and brush, I left at 8pm to begin my evening ritual at Barnes & Noble®. Once there, I observed that the hottie "bookseller" was on duty. Baby was looking hot. On the way back to Quagmire Prison, I obtained a big-ass can of Coors® Light brewski. I dropped back the whole big-ass can of brewski and continued to read Mike Ruppert's book, "Crossing the Rubicon." Same ol' shit every night.
Throughout the evening, I questioned my obsession with the "blog." Why am I wasting so much time with it? What is it substituting for? It is a chore now for me to write it since I have yet to live up to it's stated purpose as "The Exodus Files." How many years have I sacrificed for both the "blog" and the journal? Eleven? Why? Incidentally, I composed portions of this "blog" entry on my beloved Palm® TX and sent it as e-mail via the Apple® Store wireless network.
I always look forward to Monday because that is the one and only day that I meet moms for lunch, and possibly the only event that affords any meaning to my paltry existence. Today was no exception. I met moms at the entrance to Kahala Mall at 10:45am. Moms and I ate lunch at the Panda Express®. Moms showed me some kind of growth on her left eye that has been there for a week. I urged moms to have have it checked out right away. I was able to chat with moms for a bit before parting company. It is always sad for me to say good-bye. By the way, there's a new Apple® Store in Kahala Mall.
I did my one-hour of wage slavery. Gym time was at 2:15pm. I was in a daze during my workout, No, the hottie gym trainer was not there. I was contemplating the sheer folly of human history and how meaningless life has become in the face of greed. As I near completion of Ruppert's book, "Rubicon," I cannot help but wonder if there is any future for humanity. Aside from the Good Book, where can I find the truth except in "Rubicon"? One fact was made perfectly clear by Ruppert: we are seeing the same clowns resurrected over and over again in various levels of government and business. Sometimes they cycle back and forth through both entities. When are these fossils going to keel over? At that point, I realized that the game is over.
In my perusal of many other books at Barnes & Noble®, I found only one or two worthy of purchase. Right now, I doubt that anything could top "Rubicon." There are quite a few books in the genre of exposés. However, all of them are authored by political shills and corporate sycophants of the "system1." A few are written by so-called "pundits" and celebrities from the "mainstream" media. I am convinced that a confederacy of dunces has been commissioned to saturate the bookshelves with misinformation, propaganda, and hype. The books authored by the confederacy are dangerous because they feed into an already pronounced sociopathic and psychopathic consciousness that pervades our entire culture. I have warned about books that use the word, "jihad," in the title. Now, stay clear of books that deal with the "global war on terror." They only serve the purpose of deconstructing our thinking processes and our moral resolve. The theme is the same:
- An imperialistic empire invades a sovereign nation that poses no threat to any nation, least of all the empire
- The sovereign nation's citizenry rebel and escalate the conflict into a regional war
- The empire declares the rebellion to be an "uprising" and the sovereign nation's citizenry to be "insurgents" and "terrorists
In some respects, there is no escape from the "system." Just about every aspect of our lives has been infiltrated by the malignant tumor-like reach and machinations of the "system." Sooner or later, our defenses will break down, and we will accept the lies and falsehoods spewed by agents of the "system" to be fact. The reduction of all critical thinking processes by means of the consumerist mentality has also facilitated the easy inflow of propaganda into the weak mind. Consumerism also anesthetizes the "heart and soul" of the individual. Hence, all human compassion is lost amongst the myriad useless possession stacked about the ol' mausoleum (read: tomb) in a vain attempt to bolster social status and "self-esteem." What we are observing is a massive collective mental illness that continues growing and festering, the rot that will eventually topple the monolithic empire from within as well as the foolish individual who dares not heed the symptomatology.
1Moneychangers and powers-that-be.
Sunday, March 11, 2007
Sunday at the Trocadéro
I brought some leftover sandwiches back to my prison cell (read: little shoebox) yesterday afternoon. The sandwiches were from the small conference held at the Diploma Mill. So, I had a break from the usual cardboard-like prison fare. After cleaning my prison cell with my humble dustpan and brush, I decided to ride the prison transport (read: bus) to the Waikiki banyan parking structure to check on my Nissan® Frontier truck. I was tempted to drive to Ala Moana Center, but I quickly changed my mind. Even though I would avoid the fat slob satanic gargoyles all sporting their ugly kabuki mask grimaces on the prison transport, I would only be wasting precious petrol.
Barnes & Noble® was crowded when I arrived. I noted that the guys' restroom was out of commission again. I expected as much since I noticed a damaged hand soap dispenser and trash strewn all over the floor two nights ago. Satanic gargoyle dung was also smeared over one latrine, too. Alas, more evidence that there are very few humans left in society. I was experiencing a major bout of indigestion. I had to spend about 15 minutes in the restroom on the 4th floor. Fortunately, it was still open for business. I spent only about 45 minutes in Barnes & Noble® before returning to Waikiki. Both hottie "booksellers" were working. To soothe my stomach, I purchased a big-ass can Tecate® cerveza at the ABC Store. Once in lockdown in my prison cell, I dropped back the whole big-ass can of cerveza and continued to read Mike Ruppert's book, "Crossing the Rubicon."
I was surprised to read many of the assertions by Ruppert which tend to coincide with my conception of the secular Apocalypse. In the chapter dealing with biological warfare, Ruppert briefly mentioned that population control is the objective of biological warfare. Incidentally, an article titled, "The brain scan that can read people's intentions," appeared in the The Guardian recently. The article cited that computer technology can identify "unique patterns of brain activity or signatures that correspond to different thoughts. It then scans the brain to look for these signatures and predicts what the person is thinking." Thus, the technology to which Ruppert had referred may very well be feasible, if not already implemented.
The Sunday morning ritual can be categorized as the same ol' shit. Coral® tuna and bread for prison brunch. Ride prison transport to town. Read the Sunday paper in the lanai area of the Beretania Street Apartments. Purchase coffee at Mickey Dee's®. Wait for student computer lab at the Diploma Mill to open. Piddle around on computer. Compose the "blog."
Gym time was at 1:30pm. I caught a glimpse of the hottie gym trainer when I first walked in. After that, baby disappeared. Boohoo. Baby was looking hot, by the way. After my workout, I purchased two Cheesy Bean and Rice Burritos at Taco Bell®, my special weekly treat. I consume very little meat or poultry, usually only when I join moms for lunch. Other wise, my diet remain essentially the same as I detailed in the last chapter of the journal. I spent the rest of the afternoon in the student computer lab. At 5pm, I will leave for Waikiki. The nightly ritual? You know it!
Today was a really nice day. The weather has finally warmed up. I felt like I was in Hawai'i. How about that, huh? The weather was warm enough for me to wear a tank top instead of a T-shirt. Weather is going to be an important consideration for my final destination once I exit society. I must live in a warm climate, preferably tropical near a beach. I do not want to maintain a huge wardrobe. Right now, all of my clothes fit in a small gym bag. I want to keep it that way.
To finalize a previous point that I made in the "blog," I ran some numbers on Microsoft® Excel to calculate the possibility of achieving a true retirement nest egg. If a person started saving at age 25 years and continued diligently for 35 years, how much money must be saved in each of those years to achieve a grand total of $1 million (assuming a 5 percent annual interest or dividend return)? The amount that must be saved is $10,562 per year. Obviously, $1 million will not be worth a hill of beans in 35 years. The bottom line is that a no-win scenario confronts the majority of satanic gargoyles, whether they choose to believe it or not. It's a losing battle.
Most of the mental midgets will make the ludicrous statement that they "will just have continue working until [they are] 80 years old." Only a brain donation could permit such an idiotic line of reasoning. Even if it was possible to work vigorously until 80 years of age (highly improbable given the overall unhealthiness of the population), the fools will never have enough dough. Slowly, they will inch lower into extreme poverty with no way out. Little wonder why I have decided to minimize my wage slave commitments.
Barnes & Noble® was crowded when I arrived. I noted that the guys' restroom was out of commission again. I expected as much since I noticed a damaged hand soap dispenser and trash strewn all over the floor two nights ago. Satanic gargoyle dung was also smeared over one latrine, too. Alas, more evidence that there are very few humans left in society. I was experiencing a major bout of indigestion. I had to spend about 15 minutes in the restroom on the 4th floor. Fortunately, it was still open for business. I spent only about 45 minutes in Barnes & Noble® before returning to Waikiki. Both hottie "booksellers" were working. To soothe my stomach, I purchased a big-ass can Tecate® cerveza at the ABC Store. Once in lockdown in my prison cell, I dropped back the whole big-ass can of cerveza and continued to read Mike Ruppert's book, "Crossing the Rubicon."
I was surprised to read many of the assertions by Ruppert which tend to coincide with my conception of the secular Apocalypse. In the chapter dealing with biological warfare, Ruppert briefly mentioned that population control is the objective of biological warfare. Incidentally, an article titled, "The brain scan that can read people's intentions," appeared in the The Guardian recently. The article cited that computer technology can identify "unique patterns of brain activity or signatures that correspond to different thoughts. It then scans the brain to look for these signatures and predicts what the person is thinking." Thus, the technology to which Ruppert had referred may very well be feasible, if not already implemented.
The Sunday morning ritual can be categorized as the same ol' shit. Coral® tuna and bread for prison brunch. Ride prison transport to town. Read the Sunday paper in the lanai area of the Beretania Street Apartments. Purchase coffee at Mickey Dee's®. Wait for student computer lab at the Diploma Mill to open. Piddle around on computer. Compose the "blog."
Gym time was at 1:30pm. I caught a glimpse of the hottie gym trainer when I first walked in. After that, baby disappeared. Boohoo. Baby was looking hot, by the way. After my workout, I purchased two Cheesy Bean and Rice Burritos at Taco Bell®, my special weekly treat. I consume very little meat or poultry, usually only when I join moms for lunch. Other wise, my diet remain essentially the same as I detailed in the last chapter of the journal. I spent the rest of the afternoon in the student computer lab. At 5pm, I will leave for Waikiki. The nightly ritual? You know it!
Today was a really nice day. The weather has finally warmed up. I felt like I was in Hawai'i. How about that, huh? The weather was warm enough for me to wear a tank top instead of a T-shirt. Weather is going to be an important consideration for my final destination once I exit society. I must live in a warm climate, preferably tropical near a beach. I do not want to maintain a huge wardrobe. Right now, all of my clothes fit in a small gym bag. I want to keep it that way.
To finalize a previous point that I made in the "blog," I ran some numbers on Microsoft® Excel to calculate the possibility of achieving a true retirement nest egg. If a person started saving at age 25 years and continued diligently for 35 years, how much money must be saved in each of those years to achieve a grand total of $1 million (assuming a 5 percent annual interest or dividend return)? The amount that must be saved is $10,562 per year. Obviously, $1 million will not be worth a hill of beans in 35 years. The bottom line is that a no-win scenario confronts the majority of satanic gargoyles, whether they choose to believe it or not. It's a losing battle.
Most of the mental midgets will make the ludicrous statement that they "will just have continue working until [they are] 80 years old." Only a brain donation could permit such an idiotic line of reasoning. Even if it was possible to work vigorously until 80 years of age (highly improbable given the overall unhealthiness of the population), the fools will never have enough dough. Slowly, they will inch lower into extreme poverty with no way out. Little wonder why I have decided to minimize my wage slave commitments.
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