Old Man Ailments

Typical Sunday, complete with "Cartesian theater" enhancements. Really? No, not really. Of course, that means nada to report. A microsecond glimpse of the hottie gym trainer is hardly a noteworthy event. I ran a little late this afternoon while I was indulging in an ice cream treat at Ala Moana Center, so I missed the Route 23 bus. So, I had to finagle an alternative to return to the detestable Slob Manor (read: rental housing) through a number of different bus routes. That's almost reminiscent of last weekend, eh?

No outing again this evening. I was running way behind schedule. I chatted with fellow Slob Manor residents, Kyle and Alan, for about an hour. Then, I spent the rest of the time searching for and downloading choice hurdy-gurdy video clips. Way too stupid, I know. However, I am living the illusion now.

At this point, there's not much to discuss in the "blog" because I have already discussed the issues that are swirling around in the cavernous oversized cranium. In addition, as I stated, I am supposed to be living the illusion. All I can say is that I still haven't been sleeping well. Last night, I was forced to listen to two feral cats in heat yowling outside. I seem to have a pinched nerve that is causing intermittent pain along my left shoulder, neck, and cranium. I also have a boil on my right shoulder blade. Old man ailments abound. Sheesh!

Post No. 2,029

After I alighted the bus at the Beretania Street transfer point, I sat on one of the metal "homeless-proof" benches under the shelter. However, behind me was a homeless guy laying on the sidewalk inside a makeshift sleeping bag. No one else came within ten feet of the homeless guy. A few minutes later, I noticed two bare feet sticking out from the bottom of the makeshift sleeping bag. Both of his feet were coated with a black sludge. I looked at my own feet, both very clean with the soles honed just yesterday using a pumice stone. So, what exactly do I know about suffering?

At the library, I noticed that a few of the homeless that I have not seen for well over six months are now back. Where have they been? Perhaps they had been incarcerated, as my "homeless" buddy once explained.

I ran a little behind schedule this afternoon, not that I have anything pressing. Nonetheless, I did not make the trek to the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala this evening. I was not exactly excited about sitting in my squalid room at Slob Manor (read: rental housing). Fortunately, Joker was not upstairs in his filthy hovel. The fudgepacker actually has some kind of limited social life, believe it or not. He is gone between two and four days per week after 4pm for about six hours. I assume that he's been visiting his ex-"partner." After Joker gets "laid" (i.e., Lucky Piérre), he does appear to be less defiant. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!

Living the Illusion

Usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Nada to report. I the found myself at the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala this evening, mainly because Joker was being ornery again at Slob Manor (read: rental housing). The damned faggot appears to be "on the rag," believe it or not. I have to wonder whether the gay blade is overdosing on female hormone lozenges. I mean, what else could the problem be? In any case, Joker is one sick fuck.

So, I have decided to try to live the illusion, "Cartesian theater" and all, at least for the interim. Life will be much easier, I suppose. However, I maintain that I will still have moments of lucid thought. With zero readership of the "blog," the point is moot anyway.

I have been noticing that there are hella people out and about from early in the morning until late in the evening just like the ol' lavahead. I see them everywhere, often in the same places that I happen to frequent. A few are homeless, but the majority apparently are not. Obviously, none of them are wage slaves. How do they survive? Homeless or not, they all dress like derelicts. Well, so do I. An unnamed source told me that a lot of the people whom I equate with dereliction are actually living off of trust funds. Could that really be so? Or, maybe they have a fraudulent source of income like Joker.

Since I am living the illusion, I must continue the same benign routine with minimal excursions into extreme lucidity. I'm back to dealing with losers, morons, dolts, and faggots. Yeah, that's the crux of humanity. And, with the Saturnalia shopping craze in full force, we can expect illusionary delusions and gut-retching moments to hit a fever pitch soon.

I took my time returning to Slob Manor, making a stop at Aina Haina. I have not been doing any lat night grocery shopping for a couple of weeks now. I ended up purchasing a pint of frozen yogurt at the grocery store. Delicious! Upon arriving at the dump at 8:45pm, I noticed that no one else was around except for Joker. The fudgepacker was watching the tube as usual. Now, there's a mental midget who really knows how to live the illusion.

Cartesian Theater

At the library, I completed reading the book, "Why Everyone (Else) Is a Hypocrite: Evolution and the Modular Mind," by Robert Kurzban. I also happened to peruse the Asian hottie who works there. Baby was looking mighty fine. Otherwise, same ol' shit.

I'm not certain about what to discuss in the "blog" anymore, considering that my thoughts may simply be the ramblings of a predetermined "self." Fortunately, zero readership allows me not to care. I can ramble on in a predetermined fashion infinitely because the servers hosting the "blog" appear to be unlimited as well.

If anything, though, I suppose that I have already crossed the threshold of the exodus, at least philosophically. I am not even sure if any additional knowledge need be acquired. What would be the point? Of course, I have offered similar lamentations before, yet I still soldier on.

The revelations of the past few days continue to gnaw at me. We have all been too used to viewing the human mind through the lens of what Daniel Dennet calls the "Cartesian theater." Heck, morality, ethics, and laws have been structured to accommodate the "Cartesian theater." The most pertinent question is: does the "conscience" really exist innately? Or, is it acquired by indoctrination? I believe that we already know the answer. A "conscience" goes against the tenets of the "inner animal."

Well, let's change the subject now, shall we? I was back at the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) at Kahala this evening. As I sat in one of the ridiculously uncomfortable armchairs in the bookstore, I espied a new book on the shelf directly in front of me titled, "The Joker: A Visual History of the Clown Prince of Crime." The cartoon picture on the cover is hilarious, by the way. Never mind. Let's call it a night now, shall we?

Fallacy of Self

My thoughts have been extremely confused since yesterday. Perhaps the "modules" in my brain have ceased any kind of coordination. Anyway, how do we reconcile the non-existent "self"? I really don't know. Actually, the fallacy of "self" should have been obvious even to a common dunce.

Take, for example, gender traits, which have been passed down to each of genetically. Gender traits affect personality, temperament, and disposition. To no surprise, I share a lot of common traits with other guys, and not all of those traits are due to "socialization." Hence, there is no reason to not believe that other non-gender traits may also be hereditary.

It becomes increasingly possible that nearly our entire persona is already predetermined for us at birth. Fortunately, we do have a narrow margin of "free will" to make compensation. Other factors such as disease, substance abuse, and physical damage can also alter the ingrained programming, sometimes severely. Yes, I have chosen to use the word "programming" because it essentially describes how we came to be.

I don't mean to imply that we are automatons, though. Our consciousness certainly allows us to experience a rich lifetime. We are simply restricted by our programming. And, our consciousness is often not even fully aware of other processes occurring in the brain. We are only given the final result of all of the possible permutations of dominant "modules" at any given time. If we were fully conscious, we would be aware of all those processes. That's why we often cannot explain our actions.

Well, we've already disproved the existence of the "soul." Now, we have visited the fallacy of the "self." Truly, things are not what they seem to be. We are not who we think we are. Instead, we have been given a grand illusion. We are made to believe that we are born essentially a blank slate, brought up by our parents who "train" us, and then we blossom into autonomous adults who live full lives through "free will."

Once we investigate our consciousness and scrutinize our "self," something just doesn't seem right. Why do we do the things we do? Why are we always struggling with the "inner animal"? As we've already learned, there are only a few absolute truths. Beyond that, nothing is relevant. If I was to offer advice, which I detest doing, I would say that the best course of action is to live the illusion (also refer to the summary of "Core of Reality"). Forget about everything else. Live like you command your "soul." Express your "free will." Don't even think about the contradictions.

As for the ol' lavahead, he has ventured too far into the unknown. He can't feign ignorance anymore. Frankly, I believe that the ol' lavahead's work is completed. Yes, his job on the planet is done. Fini.

I need to seek out the simple life, even simpler than the one I have now. In the past few months, I have learned that I derive extreme pleasure from activities that everyone else would consider boring or insane. I really love to walk on grass as opposed to sidewalks. I enjoy looking at trees and plants. Today, I purchased a loaf of bread (mainly because I am bordering on starvation), and I could not get enough of its sweet aroma. Although the bread was a cheap generic brand, it was something very precious to me at the moment. So, let's call it day for now, shall we?

Core of Self

Same ol' shit (SOS). Yeah, I'm about as tired of SOS as you are. However, unlike you, I have no money, no cabbage, no mullah. So, I'm stuck in a rut. With each passing day, I am moving closer to homelessness. Frankly, I don't even care. How much worse can homelessness be than Slob Manor (read: rental housing)? Heck, I won't have to pay rent when I am homeless. How good is that?

At the library, I commenced reading another book about the human brain. Like the last few books that I started, it will probably disappear soon. No problemo. I'll eventually complete them all. Anyway, reading about the human brain is probably even more disconcerting than reading about the cosmos. I will state explicitly that I have now surpassed disillusionment.

Valid studies have essentially proven that the brain is made up of various "modules." The physical brain itself is not compartmentalized in such a way. But different sections of the brain perform different functions. Oddly, the "modules" often do not communicate with each other. Hence, we humans often exhibit peculiar or puzzling behavior.

I have already postulated that our preferences, tastes, personality, and disposition could very well be genetically passed down to us. Now, add to that the thesis that our minds are made up of "modules" that are processing data independently, often in conflict with each other, and aggregating that data with often no interactive communication. Seemingly, the latter process is what produces "human" traits, what religious fanatics often refer to as "imperfection." Needless to say, confusion, stupidity, "sin," and every other human trait can now be easily explained.

Lt. Commander Data

What really becomes disconcerting is that there may be no "self." While the verdict is still not in about actual consciousness, there is a problem with who we truly are. I am not certain if we can ever find the root of consciousness. I know that I am me. I know that I exist in real time, I am aware of my experiences. However, the person that I am, the traits that I exhibit, the thoughts that I conjure up, may all be the product of the way the "modules" in my brain operate at any given point in time.

Well, if that's the case, then none of us have "free will." We live in an illusion created by our basic consciousness. Beyond that, we are simply animated by the dominance of specific brain "modules." We believe that we are consciously directing our lives, but we are not. Can we even fathom such a concept?

Avenues of Strange Fortune

"Avenues of good fortune are ahead for you." -- Panda Express® fortune cookie

Usual Hawai'i Kai visit. My sister-in-law mentioned that another one of her sisters has passed on as well as a former client when she was still employed by an unnamed caregiver agency. Mortality rears its ugly head again.

While attempting to reverse out of a parking stall with my truck at the Hawai'i Kai Towne Center, I observed a white sedan pass behind me. From my side mirror, I noticed the passenger staring at the rear fender of my truck, right where the large scratch perpetrated by a vandal is located. I immediately recognized the clown. He works at Zippy's in Koko Marina and is also a member of the gym. I also recollected that I experienced a minor incident with the fool many moons ago. I ended up calling him a "dumb ass." The moron is now my prime suspect. I have noted the license plate and description of the vehicle he was riding in. A homely trollop was driving the suspect vehicle.

I ended up at the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala this evening, mainly to get away from the eternally depressing Slob Manor (read: rental housing). As always, the tablet computer accompanies me while the netbook remains in my squalid room downloading several hurdy-gurdy video clips for later perusal. Sadly, the Vienna Sausage remains ambivalent.

On an interesting note, I discovered that the only coverage of the pathetic APEC bomb buffoonery was provided by a person named Sarah Jane, as she calls herself. She reported the farce to CNN® and provided the pictures as well. She also covered the incident of November 12th in her "blog" titled "sjupandaway." There is an aerial shot which has a green tour bus as well an articulated city bus in it. I was in the bus (not visible) right behind the one in the picture. From the window, I could see the green tour bus. The "bomb" (read: homeless guy's luggage) was at the bus stop right across the street. Be sure to check out the picture of the alleged "bomb" for laughs. Lots of interesting local pictures as well.

Well, after being forced to update to the "new" Yahoo! Mail, I was unpleasantly surprised to find the interface to be extremely sluggish (as opposed to propaganda stating the opposite). I launched my own investigation and discovered that the problem is the overuse of JavaScript. Needless to say, almost every site on the Net abuses JavaScript. Thus, the lag in my browser is not the fault of the netbook. My tablet computer's browser is much faster, but that's beside the point. I may have to abandon my current e-mail account. At least for the time being, I will resort to checking e-mail very sporadically. Any other account plagued by the same problem will be handled in a similar fashion. Really, do I need to purchase a computer with a quad-core CPU just to check e-mail? Sheesh!

Post No. 2,023

Same ol' modified Sunday shit, just like yesterday, thanks to the APEC summit. I was able to avoid any nonsense, although there was a minor setback when Ala Moana Boulevard was closed for about an hour at 8:30am this morning. The entire APEC delegation was sped down toward somewhere in West O'ahu. Sadly, only a brief glimpse of the hottie gym trainer at the gym, but enough to supplement my paltry workout. I avoided a return bus trip through Waikiki, so there were no misadventures to report.

I reluctantly decided to make the trek to the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala, but I must have missed the bus. Either that, or it was really late. I did not wait around long enough to find out. So, I ended up sequestering myself in my painfully squalid room in the despicable Slob Manor (read: rental housing). More hurdy-gurdy video downloading, I suppose.

APEC Bomb Buffoonery

The extended holiday weekend left me no choice but to follow the Sunday itinerary. Yes, I know that today is Saturday. Thus, I was at the gym by 10:30am this morning. Once I exited the gym at 12:30pm, the APEC nightmare (i.e., buffoonery) commenced.

Rather than follow the usual Sunday bus route back to Slob Manor (read: rental housing), I decided to walk to Hotel Street to wait for the bus there. Thirty minutes later, the Route 1 bus arrived. I boarded and rode it past only three consecutive bus stops. The moronic passengers on the crowded bus were too much for my patience. I alighted, then boarded another bus destined for Ala Moana Center, knowing full well that I would have to travel through security checkpoints and numerous detours in Waikiki. At the time, I thought that I would only suffer from a few minutes delay. Little did I know, I should have remained on the first bus with all of the morons.

I had to transfer to a Route 8 bus because both the Route 23 and 24 buses were being diverted to a turnaround point in Waikiki. I let the first two Route 8 buses pass for reasons unknown. Then, I boarded the third one. The bus had to make a detour onto Kalakau'a Avenue because of the APEC summit at the Hawai'i Convention Center. Then, the bus stopped. We did not move from that point for about an hour. Finally, the bus driver informed us that Waikiki was in complete lockdown because of possible bomb placed at the bus stop right across the street where we were all sitting in traffic. With all of the police and military personnel in the vicinity, one has to wonder why we were not informed any earlier. And, why were we not evacuated from the potential bomb site immediately?

Site of APEC Buffoonery

I alighted the bus with several other passengers. Instead of walking into Waikiki (and passing the bomb site), I decided to walk to Kapi'olani Boulevard. Traffic was completely backed up, but a Route 3 bus finally came by. I boarded that bus. Then, just as the bus was about to turn onto Date Street a few blocks up, I noticed that the traffic was backed up on that road as well. Obviously, motorists were attempting to enter Waikiki via Kapahulu Avenue. I alighted the bus, only to realize that the sign indicated that only the Route 3 bus stopped there. So, I had to walk back one block to another bus stop. Within a few minutes, a Route 9 bus arrived. I boarded the bus and alighted at the Palolo Valley bus stop in Kaimuki. Once again, I had to walk back a block to another bus stop. Finally, I boarded a Route 1 bus which transported me back to Slob Manor (read: rental housing). Arrival time: 4pm. Yeah, that's right. Six different bus routes and 3.5 hours of time.

Obviously, the bomb never exploded. The perpetrator, being a moron, did not realize that no one at the APEC summit was inconvenienced in the slightest. Only the poor rank-and-file peons like myself were left to suffer the consequences. In addition, with all the police and military presence, one would have assumed that a high level of crisis management coordination would have been implemented. Instead, there was lots of buffoonery, plain and simple.

Now, here's the punchline. What we passengers on the bus were told is that a strange box was conspicuously left at the bus stop across the street and, subsequently, the perpetrator had called the police about the bomb. Later, I discovered the real truth. The strange box ended up being some luggage belonging to an anonymous homeless guy. I bet that he left it there deliberately. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!

Well, I was so far behind schedule and so fatigued that I decided to forgo my nightly excursion to the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala. Yeah, I just sat in my squalid room at Slob Manor and downloaded hurdy-gurdy video clips all night long for my massive hurdy-gurdy video library. (HGVL). Sheesh!

Folly of Humanity

Holiday or not, there's no rest for the losers. I brought my truck into the Nissan® dealership this morning for an oil change and tire rotation. Total cost? A whopping $110 and some change. On top of that, I waited nearly two hours for the work to be completed. Fortunately, I have extended my service interval to one year.

I ended up driving my truck to Ala Moana Center. After procuring a cup of coffee, I rode the bus to town to work out at the gym. Then, I rode the bus back to Ala Moana Center, retrieved my truck, stopped at Safeway® on Beretania Street, then finally returned to the despicable Slob Manor (read: rental housing).

I briefly ran into my "homeless" buddy at Ala Moana this afternoon. He was boarding the bus that I had just alighted. Traffic was terrible, mostly because of the security checkpoints all over the place. There were police and military personnel stationed as far as the eye could see. Emergency and military vehicles were also conspicuously scattered about. That's as close to a police state as can be imagined. I was glad to get out of there.

I did not enjoy driving my truck around. Actually, I never do. The traffic is always horrendous. And, almost all of the motorists drive as if they are playing some kind of video game. Yeah, nothing like careening around recklessly in a 4,000-pound motorized chair (read: automobile). The bus, even with all of the obnoxious and odoriferous passengers, is a better option.

As fatigued as I was, I returned to the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala this evening. Same ol' shit. Later, I'll be downloading more choice hurdy-gurdy video clips in the privacy of my dungy and squalid room in the detestable Slob Manor (read: rental housing). Oh, the sheer foolishness!

Incidentally, I won't be honoring the empire's (or those of any nation) soldiers who perished in war. Damn it! Why do we still have wars? The moronic activity has been going on since the beginning of humanity. So, the question just begs itself: what is wrong with humans? What happened to the "civilization" paradigm?

Humans suffer from some kind of blind sense of "exceptionalism." Yet, there is nothing exceptional about us. We've got major problems with the "inner animal." And, unless we address those problems, there will be no end to human folly. Yet, one has to wonder, are humans really capable of being "civilized"? Or, is the "inner animal" just being forcibly repressed, only to manifest itself in even stronger and more violent outbursts?

I believe that we already know the answers. I am really only expressing my continued disillusionment. After all, we have been constantly indoctrinated by secular or religious means to believe in a vast separation between humans and animals. We have been told over and over again that we are not animals. Actually, we are worst than animals. Intelligence has not tamed the beast. Rather, intelligence has made us more crafty, more wily, more sinister than any other life form. Then, we have the gall to raise memorials for the casualties of extreme human folly. Is there just no end to the stupidity and the hypocrisy? Oh, the sheer foolishness!