I did not sleep well last night. The guy who resides in the attached studio brought a babe home with him at midnight. They sat outside on his tiny balcony until 2am. Occasionally, I could hear him speaking. However, for the majority of time, the ho' was giggling her ass off. What exactly was so funny? I surmise that it was all part of the "one-night stand" ritual. Unfortunately, neither my Flents® foam ear plugs or my AOSafety® Stow-A-Way® earmuffs could effectively attenuate the frequency bandwidth of the trollop's giggling.
Another visit to Hawai'i Kai went well. Moms and I ate lunch at Panda Express®. Later, moms served Welcome® vanilla ice cream for dessert. The rest of the day? The urban nomad fulfilled his usual benign functions and followed his routine itinerary as planned.
Well, not exactly. I had to meet my nephew at Koko Marina at 2:30pm. The weather was cold and windy all morning, with rain a possibility at any time. I had departed for Koko Marina at 1pm and performed a really abbreviated workout at the gym. I had to accompany my nephew to Straub Clinic in order to have a nurse certify the result of his TB test. According to my sister-in-law, an adult had to be present. In reality, no one really cared about whether I was there or not. The whole affair was a last-minute scenario, so my nephew did not stop at home on the way from school to pick up the paperwork. Fortunately, the nurse was able to have a Fax copy sent. Naturally, the rain was really coming down by then. Gone were my plans to be back at Slob Manor (read: rental housing) before the storm.
The power was out at Foodland, but the emergency lights were on. And, the point-of-sale terminals were operational. My nephew and I walked though the darkened aisles. I found only a couple of food items to purchase. Afterward, I dropped my nephew off. Moms apparently missed her nap. Moms was worried that there was a mix-up because my nephew had not stopped off to pick up the medical paperwork. I assured moms that everything went fine. Alas, I returned to Slob Manor through the pouring rain. I noticed that my truck was filthy again. Then, the rain stopped and the sun came out.
Monday, January 10, 2011
Sunday, January 09, 2011
Senior Citizen Solaces
Another urban nomad kind-of-a-Sunday was highlighted by an extended perusal of the symbolically unattainable hottie gym trainer. Baby was looking mighty fine, I might add. There's a lot more that could be said about baby, but the point is moot. The rest of the day? Same ol' urban nomad shit.
With nothing left to eat in the fridge at Slob Manor (read: rental housing), I was forced to search for food at Foodland in Ala Moana Center this afternoon. Nada. So, I ended up at Subway® in the Aina Haina Shopping Center. I did not have much time before the next bus was due to arrive. I walked out to the bus stop with my sandwich. Somehow, I had the feeling that the bus would be late. The hot sandwich would be cold by the time I arrived back at Slob Manor (read: rental housing). Thus, I ended up eating the delicious sandwich at the bus stop. So much for dining ambiance, eh?
Back at Slob Manor, I finally completed the semi-annual and annual GET forms to submit along with the detestable tax payment. I also washed my Nissan® Frontier truck with Turtle Wax® Zip Wax® Car Wash. I discarded the other liquid wax because I can no longer bring myself to hand-wax the truck as a separate operation. Now, I simply pour some Zip Wax® in a bucket of water and wash the truck. Rinse, dry off, and waxing is complete. Voilà!
Needless to say, I am having great difficulty in remaining "responsible." In my quasi-enlightened state, I broadly interpret the meaning of "personal responsibility" to be a form of enslavement. In the spirit of the "disconnection" and the exodus, I must strive to eliminate as many burdensome responsibilities as possible. Obviously, I will have to part ways with the "ownership society," amongst other things. Time is running out.
Every Sunday, I ride the 10am Route 6 bus from Ala Moana Center to downtown. That particular section of the route is frequented by quite a few senior citizens. Some of them sit in close proximity to me. As I said prior, I have been observing the senior citizen demographic. This morning, I noticed that a few of the old guys had a proliferation of old man spots, those sickly black splotches, all over their severely wrinkled skin. I looked at my arm and noticed the same kind of spots, albeit in their infancy. In a few short years, I will look just like the run-of-the-mill senior citizen. Those black splotches will grow much larger and proliferate. The small wrinkles that permeate my skin will develop into deep leathery fissures. My hair will lose its pigment. And, that's just the beginning. Oh, the horror!
I watched as each of the senior citizens alighted at various stops. Every senior citizen has a unique manner in which they hobble around. Some of them can barely walk. The sad part is that most of us are really not aware of what's going on. Slow moving senior citizens are simply a nuisance. They get in the way. However, the truth of the matter is that each of us will eventually be hobbling around in our own unique way, too. A senior citizen hobbles around because the body has stopped cooperating with the mind. It has only limited movements. Attempting to circumvent the limitation will result in pain and anguish. I have already noticed some deterioration of my own physical capabilities.
All that to say how part of the exodus must include my preparation to become a decrepit senior citizen. Growing old is inevitable. Becoming decrepit is just a matter of time. I suppose that our bodies are preparing us for the end. When our bodies becomes just too decrepit, we probably will be willing to succumb to nothingness. I tried to imagine what all of those senior citizens are thinking when they look in the mirror. Perhaps I already know.
With nothing left to eat in the fridge at Slob Manor (read: rental housing), I was forced to search for food at Foodland in Ala Moana Center this afternoon. Nada. So, I ended up at Subway® in the Aina Haina Shopping Center. I did not have much time before the next bus was due to arrive. I walked out to the bus stop with my sandwich. Somehow, I had the feeling that the bus would be late. The hot sandwich would be cold by the time I arrived back at Slob Manor (read: rental housing). Thus, I ended up eating the delicious sandwich at the bus stop. So much for dining ambiance, eh?
Back at Slob Manor, I finally completed the semi-annual and annual GET forms to submit along with the detestable tax payment. I also washed my Nissan® Frontier truck with Turtle Wax® Zip Wax® Car Wash. I discarded the other liquid wax because I can no longer bring myself to hand-wax the truck as a separate operation. Now, I simply pour some Zip Wax® in a bucket of water and wash the truck. Rinse, dry off, and waxing is complete. Voilà!
Needless to say, I am having great difficulty in remaining "responsible." In my quasi-enlightened state, I broadly interpret the meaning of "personal responsibility" to be a form of enslavement. In the spirit of the "disconnection" and the exodus, I must strive to eliminate as many burdensome responsibilities as possible. Obviously, I will have to part ways with the "ownership society," amongst other things. Time is running out.
Every Sunday, I ride the 10am Route 6 bus from Ala Moana Center to downtown. That particular section of the route is frequented by quite a few senior citizens. Some of them sit in close proximity to me. As I said prior, I have been observing the senior citizen demographic. This morning, I noticed that a few of the old guys had a proliferation of old man spots, those sickly black splotches, all over their severely wrinkled skin. I looked at my arm and noticed the same kind of spots, albeit in their infancy. In a few short years, I will look just like the run-of-the-mill senior citizen. Those black splotches will grow much larger and proliferate. The small wrinkles that permeate my skin will develop into deep leathery fissures. My hair will lose its pigment. And, that's just the beginning. Oh, the horror!
I watched as each of the senior citizens alighted at various stops. Every senior citizen has a unique manner in which they hobble around. Some of them can barely walk. The sad part is that most of us are really not aware of what's going on. Slow moving senior citizens are simply a nuisance. They get in the way. However, the truth of the matter is that each of us will eventually be hobbling around in our own unique way, too. A senior citizen hobbles around because the body has stopped cooperating with the mind. It has only limited movements. Attempting to circumvent the limitation will result in pain and anguish. I have already noticed some deterioration of my own physical capabilities.
All that to say how part of the exodus must include my preparation to become a decrepit senior citizen. Growing old is inevitable. Becoming decrepit is just a matter of time. I suppose that our bodies are preparing us for the end. When our bodies becomes just too decrepit, we probably will be willing to succumb to nothingness. I tried to imagine what all of those senior citizens are thinking when they look in the mirror. Perhaps I already know.
Saturday, January 08, 2011
High Fructose Fatso
"Take any stock in the United States. The average time in which you hold a stock is - it's gone up from 20 seconds to 22 seconds in the last year. Most trades are computerized. Most trades are short-term. The average foreign currency investment lasts - it's up now to 30 seconds, up from 28 seconds last month." -- Michael HudsonI managed to slink in and out of Slob Manor (read: rental housing), so I did not have any kind of contact with the other tenants. No stupid pet tricks. As for the day ... same ol' shit. In other words, nothing unusual outside of the stupidity that can be defined as normal.
Because of my own sordid financial crisis, I am also impoverished. Naturally, I had to cut back on expenses, food being a "line item" target. Even with a significant reduction in food expenditures, I find that I am sporting a small midriff "spare tire" that appears to be growing. I am certain that the source of the problem is the massive amounts of high fructose corn syrup (HFCS) in almost every food product that I consume, including yogurt and baked goods. In the damned expensive $5 loaf of bread, HFCS is the third listed ingredient after wheat flour and water. Well, HFCS appears to be much more resistant to cardio workouts, that's for sure.
Incidentally, while I was riding the bus back to Slob Manor this afternoon, I noticed a number of passengers playing with their "smartphones" and iPad®s. I was completely surprised at how polished the various mobile operating systems seemed to be. Even the ridiculous "smartphones" appear to function much more gracefully than both versions of Linux on my two computers. Not only that, but the user interfaces were so much more stylish. The video playback on those devices is so much better than my Acer® Aspire One netbook computer. Why?
I am wasting far too much time with my computers. I'd like to divest them both, but I need a viable replacement. I am waiting for a tablet device with a fully functional Web browser. That's probably not going to happen while such devices use the current breed of phone operating systems. Yet, there's no reason why the Web browsers couldn't be improved. My guess is that the manufacturers do not want to introduce a stand-alone tablet device. Intentionally making the device and its user dependent on a regular computer will guarantee that the latter will not meet its demise. Sheesh!
Friday, January 07, 2011
Day Seven 2011
Although I was already awake in Slob Manor (read: rental housing), I heard a lot of noise in the kitchen this morning at 5am. Apparently, Alan was up and around doing who-knows-what. He also made several phone calls. My guess is that he was waiting for the Iraqi guy's limerant object. She normally takes her dog for a walk at about that time. However, she has lately given the chore to Joseph to do whenever he wakes up. So, Alan piddled around, curiously, until about 30 seconds before Joseph's limerant object departed for work. Just before she descended the stairs, Alan shut off the lights and went into his squalid room. A minute after she shut the front door, Alan emerged from his room, turned the lights back on, and engaged in more noisy piddling. He was still in the dining area when I eventually departed at 7:35am.
Another visit to Hawai'i Kai went well. Moms and I ate lunch at Zippy's. Later, moms served Welcome® vanilla ice cream for dessert. The rest of the day? The urban nomad fulfilled his usual benign functions and followed his routine itinerary as planned.
I should mention that moms and I engaged in a short adventure when, upon completing our usual excursion, moms discovered that her hearing aid was missing. Moms had put the tiny devices into a soft pouch, then placed the pouch in her purse. We had to backtrack through Koko Marina, with Foodland being our last stop. Fortunately, someone had found the pouch. We were able to retrieve it at the customer service counter. Thank goodness!
When I arrived back at Slob Manor at 5:30pm, I noticed that Alan was lying on the couch. His notebook computer was sitting on the dining table. Joseph was busily cooking dinner. His limerant object had just returned from walking her dog. She was upstairs. I put my groceries away and locked myself in my squalid room. I had enough of the stupid pet tricks for the day.
Another visit to Hawai'i Kai went well. Moms and I ate lunch at Zippy's. Later, moms served Welcome® vanilla ice cream for dessert. The rest of the day? The urban nomad fulfilled his usual benign functions and followed his routine itinerary as planned.
I should mention that moms and I engaged in a short adventure when, upon completing our usual excursion, moms discovered that her hearing aid was missing. Moms had put the tiny devices into a soft pouch, then placed the pouch in her purse. We had to backtrack through Koko Marina, with Foodland being our last stop. Fortunately, someone had found the pouch. We were able to retrieve it at the customer service counter. Thank goodness!
When I arrived back at Slob Manor at 5:30pm, I noticed that Alan was lying on the couch. His notebook computer was sitting on the dining table. Joseph was busily cooking dinner. His limerant object had just returned from walking her dog. She was upstairs. I put my groceries away and locked myself in my squalid room. I had enough of the stupid pet tricks for the day.
Thursday, January 06, 2011
Post No. 1,712
Same ol' shit. Does it get tiring? You bet! However, I am a victim of the empire's financial "system." I am being slowly driven into one-way poverty. I have no other options.
At the library, I briefly continued my casual research into ancient Asian prehistory. All I can say is that we know more about the universe of 14 billion years ago than we know about human legacy beyond a mere couple of thousand years. Sheesh!
Back at Slob Manor (read: rental housing), all was quiet until about 8:30pm. Alan had been hanging around conspicuously in the dining area. "Pay dirt" finally hit when the Iraqi guy's limerant object came downstairs to cook a meal, which was a rarity. So, Alan took the opportunity to "chat her up." Where was the Iraqi guy? Alan also had his eye on the Korean hottie temporary tenant, he had told me. However, the Iraqi guy ruined his plans. Stupid pet tricks.
By the way, the parking assignments have changed at Slob Manor. The guy who rents the attached studio now parks his crappy Nissan® Altima in the Indian guy's former space. The Iraqi guy's limerant object has the spot under the infamous palm tree. Wait until one of those huge palm fronds breaks loose. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa! And, Joseph is now parking his vehicle in the dirt pile next to my Nissan® Frontier truck.
The new year is already progressing rapidly, but the ol' lavahead is being left behind. He just can't seem to get his act together. Instead of bothering with the stupid pet tricks at Slob Manor, he needs to get his priorities straight. Stuff needs to be divested. Paperwork needs to be destroyed. And, a master plan needs to be established. The exodus is still in the works, if you can believe it.
Well, the most promising tablet device so far is the BlackBerry® PlayBook® with its fully functional Web browser. It can also render 1080p HD videos. Unfortunately, it seems as though it requires a 4G broadband service contract at the time of purchase. I am also not certain about whether it is a stand-alone device or requires synchronization to a BlackBerry® "smartphone." I suppose that I will have to stick with MeeGo® on a netbook, although I have no idea whether it will be around much longer.
At the library, I briefly continued my casual research into ancient Asian prehistory. All I can say is that we know more about the universe of 14 billion years ago than we know about human legacy beyond a mere couple of thousand years. Sheesh!
Back at Slob Manor (read: rental housing), all was quiet until about 8:30pm. Alan had been hanging around conspicuously in the dining area. "Pay dirt" finally hit when the Iraqi guy's limerant object came downstairs to cook a meal, which was a rarity. So, Alan took the opportunity to "chat her up." Where was the Iraqi guy? Alan also had his eye on the Korean hottie temporary tenant, he had told me. However, the Iraqi guy ruined his plans. Stupid pet tricks.
By the way, the parking assignments have changed at Slob Manor. The guy who rents the attached studio now parks his crappy Nissan® Altima in the Indian guy's former space. The Iraqi guy's limerant object has the spot under the infamous palm tree. Wait until one of those huge palm fronds breaks loose. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa! And, Joseph is now parking his vehicle in the dirt pile next to my Nissan® Frontier truck.
The new year is already progressing rapidly, but the ol' lavahead is being left behind. He just can't seem to get his act together. Instead of bothering with the stupid pet tricks at Slob Manor, he needs to get his priorities straight. Stuff needs to be divested. Paperwork needs to be destroyed. And, a master plan needs to be established. The exodus is still in the works, if you can believe it.
Well, the most promising tablet device so far is the BlackBerry® PlayBook® with its fully functional Web browser. It can also render 1080p HD videos. Unfortunately, it seems as though it requires a 4G broadband service contract at the time of purchase. I am also not certain about whether it is a stand-alone device or requires synchronization to a BlackBerry® "smartphone." I suppose that I will have to stick with MeeGo® on a netbook, although I have no idea whether it will be around much longer.
Wednesday, January 05, 2011
On the Watch
Yesterday, I neglected to mention that I had disclosed the landlord's allegations about Joseph's indiscretion (refer to the "blog" of December 26th of last year) to Alan. Joseph's limerant object, who had been outside with her dog, walked in on the conversation. She immediately refuted everything, claiming that Joseph had told her a different version of the story. Indeed, according to Joseph, the temporary tenant was the real instigator. The temporary tenant, a hottie Korean babe who works as an anesthesiologist at Queen's Hospital, came on to Joseph because she apparently could not control her passion for Iraqi guys. The temporary tenant was also jealous of the limerant object. Thus, after being scorned by the Iraqi guy, the temporary tenant abruptly moved out. What a crock of shit!
Although Alan actually witnessed the Iraqi guy hitting up the temporary tenant for her phone number, he may be inclined to agree with the limerant object's (read: Joseph's) version of the story. According to Joseph's limerant object, the temporary tenant was "very aggressive" and demanded that Joseph give her his phone number, making him also agree to call her at anytime at his whim. Since Alan is still quite partial to Joseph's limerant object, he may have no choice but to trust her. As for me, I couldn't believe what I was hearing, so I slinked off to my squalid room.
At the library, I embarked on an informal research of ancient Asian prehistory. I am not certain about whether I will delve any further, even though the subject matter is my heritage and legacy. Of course, the most important finding is that there were several tribes of people residing in Asia even before the alleged creation of the first human couple by the God of the Yahweh Triad (i.e., Judaism, Pauline-Christianity, and Islam). What does that tell you?
Well, the second phase of "quantitative easing" initiated by Ben "Handjob" Bernanke at the Fed is finally taking effect. Naturally, the stock market is surging. And, commodities prices are going through the roof. Petrol is now at $3.65 per gallon for the lowest grade (up 30 cents in two weeks time). Food prices are going up. In fact, the bread that I use for sandwiches is now over $5 for one loaf. Back to salads now, I suppose. Yet, all I keep hearing about is the "recovery" and how great it is. What am I missing?
The stock market will probably surge tomorrow since the "jobs" report came out stating a miraculous amount of hiring last month. Oh brother. Read the fine print: "The vast majority of the jobs increase, 270,000 jobs, was concentrated in the service-providing industries while the goods-providing industries contributed 27,000 jobs with manufacturing up by 23,000 jobs," according to Barclays analyst Theresa Chen [emphasis mine]. Service industries? Fast food, retail sales, blah, blah, blah. Big deal.
Every single day, I keep wondering when the "shit is going to hit the fan." The "system" is so rigged that it's not going to happen, not in my lifetime at least. As I've stated before, interest rates are never going to rise above zero percent ever again. The rich will get richer, the poor just get poorer. It's going to be a slow process, so slow that no one is going to notice. That's not true. I have been able to observe the subtle negative changes because I am not preoccupied by a "smartphone" all day long. I am not playing gaming applications or sending useless gossipy text messages. So, I am free to watch the slow robbery in progress. Shouldn't you be watching, too?
Although Alan actually witnessed the Iraqi guy hitting up the temporary tenant for her phone number, he may be inclined to agree with the limerant object's (read: Joseph's) version of the story. According to Joseph's limerant object, the temporary tenant was "very aggressive" and demanded that Joseph give her his phone number, making him also agree to call her at anytime at his whim. Since Alan is still quite partial to Joseph's limerant object, he may have no choice but to trust her. As for me, I couldn't believe what I was hearing, so I slinked off to my squalid room.
At the library, I embarked on an informal research of ancient Asian prehistory. I am not certain about whether I will delve any further, even though the subject matter is my heritage and legacy. Of course, the most important finding is that there were several tribes of people residing in Asia even before the alleged creation of the first human couple by the God of the Yahweh Triad (i.e., Judaism, Pauline-Christianity, and Islam). What does that tell you?
Well, the second phase of "quantitative easing" initiated by Ben "Handjob" Bernanke at the Fed is finally taking effect. Naturally, the stock market is surging. And, commodities prices are going through the roof. Petrol is now at $3.65 per gallon for the lowest grade (up 30 cents in two weeks time). Food prices are going up. In fact, the bread that I use for sandwiches is now over $5 for one loaf. Back to salads now, I suppose. Yet, all I keep hearing about is the "recovery" and how great it is. What am I missing?
The stock market will probably surge tomorrow since the "jobs" report came out stating a miraculous amount of hiring last month. Oh brother. Read the fine print: "The vast majority of the jobs increase, 270,000 jobs, was concentrated in the service-providing industries while the goods-providing industries contributed 27,000 jobs with manufacturing up by 23,000 jobs," according to Barclays analyst Theresa Chen [emphasis mine]. Service industries? Fast food, retail sales, blah, blah, blah. Big deal.
Every single day, I keep wondering when the "shit is going to hit the fan." The "system" is so rigged that it's not going to happen, not in my lifetime at least. As I've stated before, interest rates are never going to rise above zero percent ever again. The rich will get richer, the poor just get poorer. It's going to be a slow process, so slow that no one is going to notice. That's not true. I have been able to observe the subtle negative changes because I am not preoccupied by a "smartphone" all day long. I am not playing gaming applications or sending useless gossipy text messages. So, I am free to watch the slow robbery in progress. Shouldn't you be watching, too?
Tuesday, January 04, 2011
Babuino Desnudo
Another urban nomad kind of a day? Say it ain't so! But, yes, it was ... same ol' shit. Fortunately, the myriad baboons were not as discourteous as yesterday. Was there a full moon out, or what?
At 9pm this evening, I was suffering from a poverty of words. What was even more frustrating is that the cursor kept disappearing from the Blogger® text box as I was typing. The disappearing cursor appears to be an on-going problem in Ubuntu Linux. I also uploaded a picture, but it was automatically resized too small. So, I "disappeared" it. Frankly, I was ready to "disappear" the entire "blog" and the old journal as well. Is it worth maintaining that crap?
By 9:30pm, I was entirely frustrated with everything. I wanted to take all of my useless possessions out to the trash can. Yes, everything, including my entire clothing ensemble of three pieces. I yearned to return to my roots. I wanted to become a naked ape, at least according to what the evolutionists have been proselytizing. Seriously, we're only at Day Four of the new year, and I'm already discombobulated. So, let's call it a day now, shall we?
At 9pm this evening, I was suffering from a poverty of words. What was even more frustrating is that the cursor kept disappearing from the Blogger® text box as I was typing. The disappearing cursor appears to be an on-going problem in Ubuntu Linux. I also uploaded a picture, but it was automatically resized too small. So, I "disappeared" it. Frankly, I was ready to "disappear" the entire "blog" and the old journal as well. Is it worth maintaining that crap?
By 9:30pm, I was entirely frustrated with everything. I wanted to take all of my useless possessions out to the trash can. Yes, everything, including my entire clothing ensemble of three pieces. I yearned to return to my roots. I wanted to become a naked ape, at least according to what the evolutionists have been proselytizing. Seriously, we're only at Day Four of the new year, and I'm already discombobulated. So, let's call it a day now, shall we?
Monday, January 03, 2011
15 Kankin 1 Ik'
(12.19.18.0.2) Another visit to Hawai'i Kai went well. Moms and I ate lunch at Panda Express®. Later, moms served Welcome® vanilla ice cream for dessert. The rest of the day? The urban nomad fulfilled his usual benign functions and followed his routine itinerary as planned.
Day Three of the new year. Exactly nothing of significance has transpired. Apparently, I remain totally committed to banality. Of course, I have not had much time to think about anything, what with the anxiety attacks and all. Only when I return to Slob Manor (read: rental housing) do I find myself with little to do. Yet, is the dump conducive to contemplation? Hardly. I've also been spending most of my time listening to Deep House Cat mixes and searching for new hurdy-gurdy videos to add to my vast collection while I am confined to my squalid room. What else can I do?
I really don't know anymore. I feel as though I am one of only a handful of people who has some idea about the absolute truths (refer to the "blog" of July 28th of last year). The rest of the masses are content to participate in the ridiculous human theater, one based on myths and pseudo-science of a decadent "civilization." Few understand mortality for what it is. Even fewer understand that the universe is finite, too. I do not come from a viewpoint of hubris, by the way. I am just trying to make some sense of the insane world that I am forced to live in.
Since my emancipation from wage slavery over three years ago, I have had ample time to ruminate upon the effect that the latter event has had on my life and life-style. Truly, that was a turning point. Fortunately, I had amassed a modest amount of "capital," which allowed me to survive to this day without returning to the salt mines. Unfortunately, my resources are limited and finite as well. I debated for quite some time about whether I should "throw caution to the wind" and experience a "fuller" life. In a consumerist society, a "fuller" life costs a lot of money. Therefore, I backed off.
With so little time left, have I changed my mind? Not really. Although I would like to travel to certain parts of the ancient world, I am deterred by the morbid global theater that has been created by the moneychangers and powers-that-be. Terror and fear is all that awaits us. I may as well settle in with my computers in my squalid room and travel vicariously until the day comes that I can safely venture out.
Of course, by that time, the world could be in a bigger mess than it is now. We'll be at 7 billion satanic gargoyles before the end of the year. And, as I've understated in the "blog," we are on a collision course with a tragedy of unknown proportions. Oil, food, water, and climate are going to be constraining factors that may perhaps trigger a secular Apocalypse of one kind or another. I am still thinking that a planned "limited" global nuclear war is in the works (refer to the "blog" of September 28th of last year) before then.
Pity the poor humans. They know nothing of their legacy beyond two millenia. They have built up a world based upon faulty assumptions of "manifest destiny" and dominion. Yet, they seem to be oblivious to the fact that they are destroying themselves and all other life on earth. The recent ancients whom they know something about seemed to be fixated on the stellar horizon. In arrogance, they also believe the distant ancients to be "howling barbarians" who eventually developed enough intelligence to become star cultists.
Day Three of the new year. Exactly nothing of significance has transpired. Apparently, I remain totally committed to banality. Of course, I have not had much time to think about anything, what with the anxiety attacks and all. Only when I return to Slob Manor (read: rental housing) do I find myself with little to do. Yet, is the dump conducive to contemplation? Hardly. I've also been spending most of my time listening to Deep House Cat mixes and searching for new hurdy-gurdy videos to add to my vast collection while I am confined to my squalid room. What else can I do?
I really don't know anymore. I feel as though I am one of only a handful of people who has some idea about the absolute truths (refer to the "blog" of July 28th of last year). The rest of the masses are content to participate in the ridiculous human theater, one based on myths and pseudo-science of a decadent "civilization." Few understand mortality for what it is. Even fewer understand that the universe is finite, too. I do not come from a viewpoint of hubris, by the way. I am just trying to make some sense of the insane world that I am forced to live in.
Since my emancipation from wage slavery over three years ago, I have had ample time to ruminate upon the effect that the latter event has had on my life and life-style. Truly, that was a turning point. Fortunately, I had amassed a modest amount of "capital," which allowed me to survive to this day without returning to the salt mines. Unfortunately, my resources are limited and finite as well. I debated for quite some time about whether I should "throw caution to the wind" and experience a "fuller" life. In a consumerist society, a "fuller" life costs a lot of money. Therefore, I backed off.
With so little time left, have I changed my mind? Not really. Although I would like to travel to certain parts of the ancient world, I am deterred by the morbid global theater that has been created by the moneychangers and powers-that-be. Terror and fear is all that awaits us. I may as well settle in with my computers in my squalid room and travel vicariously until the day comes that I can safely venture out.
Of course, by that time, the world could be in a bigger mess than it is now. We'll be at 7 billion satanic gargoyles before the end of the year. And, as I've understated in the "blog," we are on a collision course with a tragedy of unknown proportions. Oil, food, water, and climate are going to be constraining factors that may perhaps trigger a secular Apocalypse of one kind or another. I am still thinking that a planned "limited" global nuclear war is in the works (refer to the "blog" of September 28th of last year) before then.
Pity the poor humans. They know nothing of their legacy beyond two millenia. They have built up a world based upon faulty assumptions of "manifest destiny" and dominion. Yet, they seem to be oblivious to the fact that they are destroying themselves and all other life on earth. The recent ancients whom they know something about seemed to be fixated on the stellar horizon. In arrogance, they also believe the distant ancients to be "howling barbarians" who eventually developed enough intelligence to become star cultists.
Perhaps the star cultist left their megalithic monuments, not as a token of primitive megalomania, but created permanent markers as a reminder and prescient warning of not keeping the minuscule human presence in perspective to the universe.
Sunday, January 02, 2011
Stonehead Stasis
Another ridiculous urban nomad kind-of-a-Sunday has come to pass. The highlight of the day was a microsecond glimpse of the hottie gym trainer at the gym. Actually, there's really no need to track the sightings of the hottie gym trainer anymore. Baby is, after all, symbolically unattainable. And, I have more important matters to be concerned about (e.g., my senior citizen status).
I was back at Slob Manor (read: rental housing) by 3pm. Joseph, the Iraqi guy, has apparently moved into the Indian guy's vacated room as of late last night. He and his limerant object now have the entire second floor to use as a "love nest." Hopefully, they will both make themselves scarce downstairs. One has to wonder whether Joseph's limerant object is aware of his attempted infidelity.
By the way, I have tentatively decided to dispense with future monthly financial and expense summaries. The task, while trivial, is just not worth the time invested. Month-to-month expenses are mostly constant, with the detestable "condotel" unit absorbing much of my dwindling savings. I have basically no income, thanks to Ben "Handjob" Bernanke at the Fed. Thus, the monthly income summary will only reflect a forever declining savings balance. Who really cares anyway? I will, however, continue to compile the annual net worth balance sheet.
I was back at Slob Manor (read: rental housing) by 3pm. Joseph, the Iraqi guy, has apparently moved into the Indian guy's vacated room as of late last night. He and his limerant object now have the entire second floor to use as a "love nest." Hopefully, they will both make themselves scarce downstairs. One has to wonder whether Joseph's limerant object is aware of his attempted infidelity.
By the way, I have tentatively decided to dispense with future monthly financial and expense summaries. The task, while trivial, is just not worth the time invested. Month-to-month expenses are mostly constant, with the detestable "condotel" unit absorbing much of my dwindling savings. I have basically no income, thanks to Ben "Handjob" Bernanke at the Fed. Thus, the monthly income summary will only reflect a forever declining savings balance. Who really cares anyway? I will, however, continue to compile the annual net worth balance sheet.
Saturday, January 01, 2011
New Year's Day 2011
All the revelry, with cheap booze flowing like water, usually symbolizes the myriad celebrations ushering in the new year. The "mainstream" media is filled with such useless nonsense. Only the elite class (i.e., moneychangers and powers-that-be) have cause to celebrate. We, the rank-and-file peons should be seething with rage.
Another urban nomad kind-of-a-day found the urban nomad at Ala Moana Center after departing an hour later than usual on the bus. What the heck? All of the stores were open, and satanic gargoyles were everywhere. I'm getting slightly ahead of myself. I was up past midnight last night, so I was extremely groggy this morning. I stayed up late because I had anticipated a lot of noise (i.e., fireworks). Turns out that the neighborhood celebration lasted all of seven minutes with only sporadic popping noises. Last year, there was a continuous barrage of explosions for almost an hour. What happened?
After my workout at the gym, I returned to Slob Manor (read: rental housing) via Ala Moana and Waikiki. At the Ala Moana stopover, I purchased a grilled salmon local-style bento at Foodland. The grilled salmon was delicious, by the way.
Well, Day One of the "new year" is here. I am happy to report that my squalid room in Slob Manor is a mess. I have lost all sense of order. I am now doing everything, including important stuff, using the principle of JIT (read: just-in-time). Well, except my version of JIT does nothing to facilitate expediency or efficiency. I have lost all interest in the business of living. That's right, I am sick of financial enslavement. I am sick of "ownership" and the "ownership society." I want freedom, damn it!
Alas, I'm getting ahead of myself again. It's only Day One. We've got 365 more days to screw around and accomplish nothing just like last year. In the meantime, I'll record my lack of progress in the "blog." Like the stoneheads on Easter Island, some things never change.
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