I observed the homeless in Chinatown Gateway Park while I waited for the bus to return to Waikiki last night. An elderly guy, probably in his sixties, wheeled his stolen shopping cart full of his worldly possessions next to the wall of the Hawai'i Theater. He laid down about three flattened cardboard boxes on the sidewalk. Then, he began unpacking the shopping cart. I assumed that he must perform this ritual every evening. There is no freedom from the drudgery of the mundane aspects of day-to-day living. Slavery comes in many forms and affects even the homeless. I must perform my own series of rituals, typically a cross between the tasks of a wage slave and that of a homeless guy.
There is no end to the extent of slavery in a material world. We will always be burdened by the rote drudgery of "chores," which simply have no meaning other than survival. In examining my own plight, I became even more confused about what my expectations of "freedom" were to begin with.
I was experiencing reduced levels of indigestion when I arrived in Waikiki, which prompted me to dare to partake of a hearty fare of prison food. Coral® tuna it was! Throw in a few slices of Orowheat® bread, garçon. Trés bien, trés bien. Upon completing the feast, I performed my nightly cleaning ritual with my humble dustpan and brush. Later, I perused my materialistic purchases. The bath towel is exactly what I needed. The towel that I am using now is beginning to fray badly. The new boardshorts will augment my limited wardrobe. I now own three boardshorts.
The evening would not be complete unless I spent time with my beloved Palm® TX, the "crown jewel" of my possessions. At 10:15pm, I relocated myself to the hotel lobby in order to connect to the Wi-Fi® access point. The network was slow, so I composed the "blog" instead. Just another l' ennui evening.
I left for town this morning at 7:45am on the bus. I was still experiencing the ravages of the common cold. During my morning wage slave break, I walked to Safeway®. My selections for purchase are always the same. Cheap, somewhat nutritious, somewhat healthy, bland. Prison food. I have really lost the joy of eating, which isn't necessarily bad. The love of food, especially crappy junk food, only leads to gluttony, obesity, and health problems. Frankly, I do not understand obesity and why it happens, even if it happens slowly. Most of the population is overweight, with an increasing number being obese. Many of them can barely walk. What I don't understand is how they let themselves become bloated. The amount of money required to continually "size up" in clothing must be outrageous. I couldn't see myself carrying around an extra 100 pounds or so. I remember when I was about ten pounds over my usual weight. I was very uncomfortable and sluggish. I didn't have to purchase new clothes, thank goodness. It was still an unpleasant experience.
The hottie pseudo-professor was in the faculty computer room when I finished my stint as a wage slave. Oh man, baby was looking hot. El Diablo hot. She has a very nice package, if you know what I mean. I noticed that fact when she stood up and walked around. For some reason, baby always chats with me. Perhaps she can sense how harmless I am. When I was at the gym, the hottie gym trainer was going through the circuit with a gym member. Oh man, baby was looking really hot today. El Diablo hot. Well, it's obvious that the Vienna Sausage has yet to start atrophying. Sheesh!
I spent the rest of the afternoon in the faculty computer room. Earlier, when the hottie pseudo-professor was there, Pseudo-professor Mike dropped in. He gave me a 512MB USB® flash drive as a gift. As always, I will leave for Waikiki at 7pm. I doubt that I will attend the evening performance of Lou's Kabuki Theater. I am just too fatigued.
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Every Second Counts
From the "grapevine," I heard that the crew for the series, "Lost," had been preparing the Asian bazaar film set out on Fort Street Mall. The actual filming took place last night. When I walked out of the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill, I saw a huge crowd, mostly Diploma Mill students, surrounding the makeshift set. I did not stand around and gawk at the spectacle. Instead, I quickly walked to the bus stop.
The bus to Waikiki arrived at that moment. I was privy to experience rude passengers boarding, most of them students, and the rude bus driver. I almost went off on a homicidal rampage. I was deeply perturbed. I realized what a low-life nothing that I was. The satanic gargoyles treat me like a pile of shit, just as they do the other nobodies. I am obviously not a star of "Lost." Heck, the actors in that third-rate series make more dough in one minute than what I earn in a year. And, what do those cheap fucks do? They "entertain" us with their mindless, shallow "made for the tube" dramas.
I rode on the filthy bus for about 30 minutes. I looked around at the vandalism, the trash, the residue of expectoration, the rotting food. The bus is a huge cesspool, and the economically disenfranchised who must ride it are ungrateful turds. So, all of us poor shitheads must sit in the filth and stench to constantly remind us of our low stature.
When I returned to my little shoebox, I consumed the usual prison food for dinner. Safeway® pork and beans with a few slices of Orowheat® bread. As I said, prison food. The truth became evident to me. I eat this shit because I am one po' mofo. Sure, it's healthy. The fact still remains. I'm poor. Here I am, just a few years before I keel over, and I haven't got anything to say for myself. I live in a dumpy hotel, and I eat prison food. An hour earlier, I could have gawked at the "stars" who make so much dough for doing nothing redeeming. Life is unfair. As a slave, a wage slave to be exact, I have been delivered to a life of abject poverty.
I installed my new PNY® SD® memory card into my beloved Palm® TX. Once again, the truth became evident. I own the Palm® TX because I cannot afford a computer. I'm poor. Then, it really dawned upon me. I couldn't find a babe because I am poor. I can't even get laid because I'm poor. I don't have a social life because I'm poor. I don't have any friends because I'm poor. I can't get a real wage slave job, not that I care, because I was born into poverty. The whole joke of life came crashing down upon me, and only the sinister kahuna and the satanic gargoyles are laughing.
I sat on the floor in the dark in my little shoebox, all the while reflecting upon the big joke. The sad part is that we only have this one life to live. Those of us in the poverty class will live our lives in the most debased manner. We will eke out an existence that is so pathetic and so demoralizing that the thought of eating raw sewage will seem comforting. There's nothing that we can do about it except to "grin and bear it," as that old adage goes. We, my friends, have been taken to the cleaners.
My outrage was getting the best of me. So, I decided to relax in the hotel lobby. There were numerous satanic gargoyles lounging around, but I managed to stay out of harm's way. Why was I sitting with the rest of those idiots in the first place? Each and every one of the fools have bought into the "system." They are satanic gargoyles. They must compete ferociously with me for the few crumbs that the elite have left for us. Then, I remembered that I must be in the lobby to connect my Palm® TX to the Wi-Fi® access point.
As a diversion, I copied my small hurdy-gurdy video clips (read: mpeg) library from the Palm® TX memory to the SD® memory card. Once a loser, always a loser. I felt better. I appeased my inner demons, only to placate myself back into forced conformity and servitude to the "system."
I collected myself, returning to the reality of the situation. Freedom and survival. I must keep repeating these two words like a mantra. I have no hope to break out of the ranks and become one of the elite. I can be poor and informed, or I can become a satanic gargoyle. The siren's song keep calling and beckoning us to sell our souls to El Diablo. The call of Babylon.
After I cleaned my little shoebox with my humble dustpan and brush, I felt much better. I came to see that I am weak, perhaps even more vulnerable because of the ravages of the common cold. I am human, though. I am allowed to be weak at times. My weakness is acted out only in my mind. I am am still maintaining the course.
I departed for town this morning at 8am on the bus. I ended up in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. I immediately executed an on-line purchase of a $10 refill for my T-Mobile® account. The refill adds a negligible amount of minutes. However, the expiry date is one year since I qualified for the "Gold Rewards" program. Since I have very little talk time, I will divest my cell phone and use my account just for voicemail.
I left for Kahala Mall on the bus at 9:45am. I met moms at the entrance to the mall. We ate lunch at Panda Express®. I waited with moms at the bus stop. We chatted for a bit until the bus arrived. I returned to town after that. I did my workout at the gym. The hottie gym trainer was busy with another gym member. Baby was looking hot. After the gym, I returned to the faculty computer room.
Barb sent e-mail. I was surprised to hear from her. I lost touch with her about two years ago. She's still living in Portland and doing fine. I was surprised to hear that she purchased a 39-foot yacht and is now living on it. And, I ran into Rob, the former IT guy at the Asylum, yesterday. He and Internet Jon finally secured office space. So, they are both working downtown now.
I was not feeling well all afternoon. My throat was a little sore, most likely from the common cold that I had contracted. My stomach was churning because I had to eat the greasiest entrées at the Panda Express®. For some reason, my favorite dishes were still unprepared at the time moms and I were there. I walked to Ross® at 5pm to look for a medium-sized bath towel (as opposed to the gigantic ones) and another pair of boardshorts. A $16 expenditure obtained both for me. I also had to assist Pseudo-professor Mike with a CD-burning project. That done, I piddled around on the computer until 7pm. My departure for Waikiki on the bus will be uneventful. I still was not feeling too well, so I may just have a repeat of last night. Just me and the varmint.
For the most part, I was satisfied with the day. I got a lot accomplished, which really just amounted to shopping for necessities. The Countdown to the Meltdown is ticking away. I don't have much time left.
The bus to Waikiki arrived at that moment. I was privy to experience rude passengers boarding, most of them students, and the rude bus driver. I almost went off on a homicidal rampage. I was deeply perturbed. I realized what a low-life nothing that I was. The satanic gargoyles treat me like a pile of shit, just as they do the other nobodies. I am obviously not a star of "Lost." Heck, the actors in that third-rate series make more dough in one minute than what I earn in a year. And, what do those cheap fucks do? They "entertain" us with their mindless, shallow "made for the tube" dramas.
I rode on the filthy bus for about 30 minutes. I looked around at the vandalism, the trash, the residue of expectoration, the rotting food. The bus is a huge cesspool, and the economically disenfranchised who must ride it are ungrateful turds. So, all of us poor shitheads must sit in the filth and stench to constantly remind us of our low stature.
When I returned to my little shoebox, I consumed the usual prison food for dinner. Safeway® pork and beans with a few slices of Orowheat® bread. As I said, prison food. The truth became evident to me. I eat this shit because I am one po' mofo. Sure, it's healthy. The fact still remains. I'm poor. Here I am, just a few years before I keel over, and I haven't got anything to say for myself. I live in a dumpy hotel, and I eat prison food. An hour earlier, I could have gawked at the "stars" who make so much dough for doing nothing redeeming. Life is unfair. As a slave, a wage slave to be exact, I have been delivered to a life of abject poverty.
I installed my new PNY® SD® memory card into my beloved Palm® TX. Once again, the truth became evident. I own the Palm® TX because I cannot afford a computer. I'm poor. Then, it really dawned upon me. I couldn't find a babe because I am poor. I can't even get laid because I'm poor. I don't have a social life because I'm poor. I don't have any friends because I'm poor. I can't get a real wage slave job, not that I care, because I was born into poverty. The whole joke of life came crashing down upon me, and only the sinister kahuna and the satanic gargoyles are laughing.
I sat on the floor in the dark in my little shoebox, all the while reflecting upon the big joke. The sad part is that we only have this one life to live. Those of us in the poverty class will live our lives in the most debased manner. We will eke out an existence that is so pathetic and so demoralizing that the thought of eating raw sewage will seem comforting. There's nothing that we can do about it except to "grin and bear it," as that old adage goes. We, my friends, have been taken to the cleaners.
My outrage was getting the best of me. So, I decided to relax in the hotel lobby. There were numerous satanic gargoyles lounging around, but I managed to stay out of harm's way. Why was I sitting with the rest of those idiots in the first place? Each and every one of the fools have bought into the "system." They are satanic gargoyles. They must compete ferociously with me for the few crumbs that the elite have left for us. Then, I remembered that I must be in the lobby to connect my Palm® TX to the Wi-Fi® access point.
As a diversion, I copied my small hurdy-gurdy video clips (read: mpeg) library from the Palm® TX memory to the SD® memory card. Once a loser, always a loser. I felt better. I appeased my inner demons, only to placate myself back into forced conformity and servitude to the "system."
I collected myself, returning to the reality of the situation. Freedom and survival. I must keep repeating these two words like a mantra. I have no hope to break out of the ranks and become one of the elite. I can be poor and informed, or I can become a satanic gargoyle. The siren's song keep calling and beckoning us to sell our souls to El Diablo. The call of Babylon.
After I cleaned my little shoebox with my humble dustpan and brush, I felt much better. I came to see that I am weak, perhaps even more vulnerable because of the ravages of the common cold. I am human, though. I am allowed to be weak at times. My weakness is acted out only in my mind. I am am still maintaining the course.
I departed for town this morning at 8am on the bus. I ended up in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. I immediately executed an on-line purchase of a $10 refill for my T-Mobile® account. The refill adds a negligible amount of minutes. However, the expiry date is one year since I qualified for the "Gold Rewards" program. Since I have very little talk time, I will divest my cell phone and use my account just for voicemail.
I left for Kahala Mall on the bus at 9:45am. I met moms at the entrance to the mall. We ate lunch at Panda Express®. I waited with moms at the bus stop. We chatted for a bit until the bus arrived. I returned to town after that. I did my workout at the gym. The hottie gym trainer was busy with another gym member. Baby was looking hot. After the gym, I returned to the faculty computer room.
Barb sent e-mail. I was surprised to hear from her. I lost touch with her about two years ago. She's still living in Portland and doing fine. I was surprised to hear that she purchased a 39-foot yacht and is now living on it. And, I ran into Rob, the former IT guy at the Asylum, yesterday. He and Internet Jon finally secured office space. So, they are both working downtown now.
I was not feeling well all afternoon. My throat was a little sore, most likely from the common cold that I had contracted. My stomach was churning because I had to eat the greasiest entrées at the Panda Express®. For some reason, my favorite dishes were still unprepared at the time moms and I were there. I walked to Ross® at 5pm to look for a medium-sized bath towel (as opposed to the gigantic ones) and another pair of boardshorts. A $16 expenditure obtained both for me. I also had to assist Pseudo-professor Mike with a CD-burning project. That done, I piddled around on the computer until 7pm. My departure for Waikiki on the bus will be uneventful. I still was not feeling too well, so I may just have a repeat of last night. Just me and the varmint.
For the most part, I was satisfied with the day. I got a lot accomplished, which really just amounted to shopping for necessities. The Countdown to the Meltdown is ticking away. I don't have much time left.
Monday, November 13, 2006
Varmint
It was just me and the varmint rat hanging out at the loser's pad (read: my little shoebox). The rat was scrounging around somewhere in the ceiling. I could hear its grotesque little paws scratching about. If only I could exterminate the little bastard, I thought to myself. Perhaps the little varmint could smell the can of Coral® tuna that I had just opened. Well, I wasn't planning to share my dinner with the varmint.
I was at wit's end at 8pm, so I donned my formal boardshorts and T-shirt before departing to Waikiki Beach on the bus. Once again, I toted my beloved Palm® TX with me to the disappointing evening performance of Lou's Kabuki Theater. There were a number of new characters making their debut, but they were rough around the edges, so to speak. Where's the semi-lucid homeless guy when the theater needs him? Sheesh! Well, being in Waikiki Beach was better than staying in with the varmint. And, anything to put off the dreaded laundry.
I departed the beach at 10pm, right after the alleged pastor arrived to deliver food to homeless. As I promised, I held my "thirst" off until laundry night. I stopped at the ABC Store to purchase a big-ass can of Tecate® cerveza. I started my laundry and cleaned my little shoebox with my humble dustpan and brush before I dropped back the entire contents of the can. With the laundry completed, I felt accomplished. What a night!
Since the Countdown to the Meltdown is right around the corner, I need to evaluate my immediate needs. I'm looking at the following expenditures before the year is out:
I was feeling very groggy this morning. I sat in the hotel lobby and drank a couple of cups of the "freeze-dried" concoction for the guests. One of the crew members of the company that is repairing the massive concrete spalling problem sat and chatted with me for a few minutes. He said that the repairs are going to take about a year. He was a local guy from Waipahu. I assume that he felt more comfortable chatting me, since I am a fellow "brown skin."
After a pleasant bus ride, I ended up in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. During my wage slave break, I walked to Safeway® to purchase a loaf of Orowheat® bread (on sale for $2 per loaf), a couple of energy bars, and a focaccia bread snack for lunch. Then, I rode the bus to CompUSA® in Kaka'ako to purchase a PNY® SD® memory card for my Palm® TX for $19 on sale with rebate.
I did not feel much better later in the day. I felt as though I was coming down with the common cold. Nonetheless, I did my usual workout at the gym. I would have to be really illin' to miss a day at the gym. I firmly believe that I am alive and healthy only because I have exploited my gym membership fully. I make it a point to do the cardio portion of my workout every single day. With the kinds of shitty food that we are all exposed to, there is little wonder why chronic diseases plague our society. Regular exercise seems to be the best prevention. My only downfall is my indulgence in cheap booze, which is essentially killing my liver. After the gym, I spent the rest of the afternoon in the faculty computer room. I will leave for Waikiki at 7pm on the bus.
I doubt that I will attend the evening performance of Lou's Kabuki Theater. Rather, I will install my new SD® memory card into my Palm® TX. I will need to transfer the files on the PDA to the memory card. Since the Palm® TX is now my only computer archive, I must preserve it on removable media. What if the Palm® TX suddenly becomes a doorstop? I would be up shit creek without a paddle. The Palm® TX is an indispensable device. It has the capability to read and edit native Microsoft® Word, Excel, and PowerPoint files with Documents to Go®. If I could install the PDF reader, then I would also have that capability as well.
I have been reading the elated commentaries about the election sweep by the Democrats. I chuckled to myself as I envisioned what will happen six months from now when nothing changes. Well, that's not true. There could be a lot of changes, all for the worst. Only the most astute commentators are skeptical about the election. A benchmarks needs to be put into place, where the progress to dismantle the "police state" can be actively measured. Frankly, all I can really expect is the coming of the secular Apocalypse.
I was at wit's end at 8pm, so I donned my formal boardshorts and T-shirt before departing to Waikiki Beach on the bus. Once again, I toted my beloved Palm® TX with me to the disappointing evening performance of Lou's Kabuki Theater. There were a number of new characters making their debut, but they were rough around the edges, so to speak. Where's the semi-lucid homeless guy when the theater needs him? Sheesh! Well, being in Waikiki Beach was better than staying in with the varmint. And, anything to put off the dreaded laundry.
I departed the beach at 10pm, right after the alleged pastor arrived to deliver food to homeless. As I promised, I held my "thirst" off until laundry night. I stopped at the ABC Store to purchase a big-ass can of Tecate® cerveza. I started my laundry and cleaned my little shoebox with my humble dustpan and brush before I dropped back the entire contents of the can. With the laundry completed, I felt accomplished. What a night!
Since the Countdown to the Meltdown is right around the corner, I need to evaluate my immediate needs. I'm looking at the following expenditures before the year is out:
- SD® memory card for Palm® TX ($20)
- Bath towel ($5)
- Survival knife ($50)
- Battery for Nova® Spirit ($25)
I was feeling very groggy this morning. I sat in the hotel lobby and drank a couple of cups of the "freeze-dried" concoction for the guests. One of the crew members of the company that is repairing the massive concrete spalling problem sat and chatted with me for a few minutes. He said that the repairs are going to take about a year. He was a local guy from Waipahu. I assume that he felt more comfortable chatting me, since I am a fellow "brown skin."
After a pleasant bus ride, I ended up in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. During my wage slave break, I walked to Safeway® to purchase a loaf of Orowheat® bread (on sale for $2 per loaf), a couple of energy bars, and a focaccia bread snack for lunch. Then, I rode the bus to CompUSA® in Kaka'ako to purchase a PNY® SD® memory card for my Palm® TX for $19 on sale with rebate.
I did not feel much better later in the day. I felt as though I was coming down with the common cold. Nonetheless, I did my usual workout at the gym. I would have to be really illin' to miss a day at the gym. I firmly believe that I am alive and healthy only because I have exploited my gym membership fully. I make it a point to do the cardio portion of my workout every single day. With the kinds of shitty food that we are all exposed to, there is little wonder why chronic diseases plague our society. Regular exercise seems to be the best prevention. My only downfall is my indulgence in cheap booze, which is essentially killing my liver. After the gym, I spent the rest of the afternoon in the faculty computer room. I will leave for Waikiki at 7pm on the bus.
I doubt that I will attend the evening performance of Lou's Kabuki Theater. Rather, I will install my new SD® memory card into my Palm® TX. I will need to transfer the files on the PDA to the memory card. Since the Palm® TX is now my only computer archive, I must preserve it on removable media. What if the Palm® TX suddenly becomes a doorstop? I would be up shit creek without a paddle. The Palm® TX is an indispensable device. It has the capability to read and edit native Microsoft® Word, Excel, and PowerPoint files with Documents to Go®. If I could install the PDF reader, then I would also have that capability as well.
I have been reading the elated commentaries about the election sweep by the Democrats. I chuckled to myself as I envisioned what will happen six months from now when nothing changes. Well, that's not true. There could be a lot of changes, all for the worst. Only the most astute commentators are skeptical about the election. A benchmarks needs to be put into place, where the progress to dismantle the "police state" can be actively measured. Frankly, all I can really expect is the coming of the secular Apocalypse.
Sunday, November 12, 2006
Chump Change Chimp (Reprise)
I sat on the floor in my little shoebox. All alone in the dark and nothing to do. Earlier, I ate my squalid dinner, the main entrée consisting of canned beans and bread. I cleaned the floor with my humble dustpan and brush. Another false fire alarm gave me a short reprieve from l' ennui.
I have no one to blame but myself. I chose this life-style. I made the decision to sever my social ties with everyone. I became a true loner. I do not allow any social encounters to progress beyond the acquaintance stage. I never initiate conversation, nor do I perform salutations from my side. I do not accept any social invitations. I have effectively made myself invisible.
I looked out the window toward the various apartment buildings. Mostly all of the windows were dark. Everyone was out. Places to go, things to do, satanic gargoyles to see. My only choice, aside from sitting in the dark in my little shoebox, was to attend the evening performance at Lou's Kabuki Theater. Only the lost souls, the homeless, would be there with me in collective mind and spirit. We are the outcasts. The undesirables. The forgotten. The misfits who do not belong in the world of the satanic gargoyles.
Ah, Saturday night. My beloved Palm® TX and I attended the evening performance of Lou's Kabuki Theater. I am very protective of my Palm® TX, so I was apprehensive about bringing it with me. The local homeless babe (term used loosely) and the semi-lucid homeless guy were there already. Music was provided by Tiki's across the street. The amputee in the wheelchair rolled in a few minutes after I arrived. A young hottie sat on the bench two down from me and lit up a cigarette. As to be expected, the wind was blowing the smoke directly toward me. I knew that the sinister kahuna was behind it all. Anything to bring me to my knees. Seeing that baby was a hottie, I overlooked the infraction. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaa!
I was able to connect to the Shaka Free wireless Wi-Fi® access point while sitting at the beach. My little Palm® TX is amazing! Well, at least I know that I have another option to connect to the Net. Heck, I was able to compose a portion of the "blog" live from Lou's Kabuki Theater. Yikes!
The semi-lucid homeless guy wanted to bum off a smoke again. He asked me the night before as well. A little later, the alleged pastor delivered food to the whole group. The homeless guy who usually smells like cheap brewskis and piss (read: urine) sat with the semi-lucid homeless guy as they both enjoyed their meals. I am not sure when he showed up. The alleged pastor chatted with the amputee with the wheelchair. A good time was had by all.
I was ready to depart at 10:30pm, but I had to make a "pit stop" at the restroom in Fudgepacker Park (formerly Kapi'olani Park). I decided to return to Waikiki Beach for a little while longer. I finally left Waikiki Beach at 11pm. I was a little frustrated because I was unable to send the e-mail with the "blog." I have no idea what the problem was. Then, I had to wait over 15 minutes at the bus stop before a bus arrived. When I boarded the bus, I espied the homeless guy who usually smells like cheap brewskis and piss. What was he doing on the bus? Is he really homeless? Or, is he commuting to Waikiki for a free meal?
When I arrived back in Waikiki, I was tempted to purchase some cheap booze. However, I held off, thanks to my infinite willpower. I walked back to the hotel. I sat in the lobby and connected to the Wi-Fi® wireless access point that I discovered the other day. I was able to send the e-mail successfully. With that done, I called it a night. I felt less anxious after my little outing to Lou's Kabuki Theater. I am somewhat dumbfounded that the latter is my only diversion, although it is I who whittled all of my options down to nothing.
Sunday morning is always the same. I drank several cups of the "freeze-dried" concoction substituting for coffee for the guests in the hotel lobby. Why do I keep mentioning, "for the guests"? On the beverage machine, there is a sign that reads, "For Hotel Guests Only." I ignore the sign. I always read the Sunday paper, which is also for the hotel guests. Sadly, I always look at the advertising inserts. Then, I peruse the real estate listings. Hawai'i home prices are still going up slightly even though sales have leveled off. Apparently, Bill Gates of Microsoft® is going to building a huge estate here on O'ahu. It turns out that there are quite a few of the rich and famous who own large estates here. That is why property values in Hawai'i may never go down. Hawai'i also has an international appeal. Thus, the real estate market can weather almost any storm. There is always some rich asshole who wants to build a palatial manor in Hawai'i.
After piddling around in my little shoebox, I left for town at 10:30am. I left earlier than usual for a Sunday because I wanted to sit in the lanai area of the Beretania Street Apartments which faces the small park. The homeless and the destitute were occupying most of the park benches from what I could see. I sat and enjoyed the beauty of the park from my vantage point.
At noon, I walked to the Diploma Mill and ended up in the student computer lab for another afternoon of computer fun. I carried my beloved Palm® TX with me, just in case I needed it. I took a break at 2pm to go to the gym to do my usual workout. The hottie gym trainer was busy working with a gym member. Baby was looking hot. After the gym, I was famished. I gave in to temptation and purchased two Cheesy Bean and Rice burritos at Taco Bell®. Delicioso!
A film crew was setting up what appeared to be an Asian marketplace along a small portion of Fort Street Mall. The existing shops were made to look like a Third-World bazaar. I ended up back in the student computer lab until 5pm, when I must return, albeit reluctantly, to Waikiki on the bus.
Pseudo-professor Mike had invited me to a small pool party over at the Honolulu Tower this afternoon. I decided not to attend. I have become very suspicious of his motives. Almost everything that he does has "strings" attached. Yesterday, he made the suggestion that I could split the rent with him for his new office. He wants to build a sleeping loft in it, such that I could sell my "condotel" unit and live in the office space. With his divorce pending, he has become desperate to sell the house that he and his wife own in the Wilhemina Rise area. Rather than actively market the place, he has gone back to the crazy scheme of trying to find "investors" for the property, essentially to pay off his wife and turn around and sell it later for a profit. The "investors would put in $150,000 each. His perpetual scheming is what often bothers me. I am almost certain that he has actually no vested interest in the house. His spotty employment history precludes any possibility that he has contributed much to the mortgage. Rather than retain the services of a realtor, he decided to sell the house himself. Obviously, not much is happening. In the meantime, his new squeeze (whom he is living with at her place) is waiting on the promise of the stalled divorce. She is subsidizing him financially on that promise. What I essentially see is a situation that is going to implode. Pseudo-professor Mike has too many schemes going on concurrently. A while back, I was worried for him. Now, I am observing that he is painting himself into a corner by design.
I never thought that I would see the day when I would say, "$400,000 is chump change." However, that is what I'm saying right now. Here in Hawai'i, the latter amount is the same as being completely broke. About eight years ago, when I invoked my "Five Year Financial Plan" to save $100,000 in that time, I knew it was a negligible amount. However, I never expected that four times the amount is now nothing more than a drop in the bucket. That is why greed is running rampant. Even so-called "friends" are resorting to Ponzi schemes to extract money from others. A sure sign that the time of the end is nearing.
I have no one to blame but myself. I chose this life-style. I made the decision to sever my social ties with everyone. I became a true loner. I do not allow any social encounters to progress beyond the acquaintance stage. I never initiate conversation, nor do I perform salutations from my side. I do not accept any social invitations. I have effectively made myself invisible.
I looked out the window toward the various apartment buildings. Mostly all of the windows were dark. Everyone was out. Places to go, things to do, satanic gargoyles to see. My only choice, aside from sitting in the dark in my little shoebox, was to attend the evening performance at Lou's Kabuki Theater. Only the lost souls, the homeless, would be there with me in collective mind and spirit. We are the outcasts. The undesirables. The forgotten. The misfits who do not belong in the world of the satanic gargoyles.
Ah, Saturday night. My beloved Palm® TX and I attended the evening performance of Lou's Kabuki Theater. I am very protective of my Palm® TX, so I was apprehensive about bringing it with me. The local homeless babe (term used loosely) and the semi-lucid homeless guy were there already. Music was provided by Tiki's across the street. The amputee in the wheelchair rolled in a few minutes after I arrived. A young hottie sat on the bench two down from me and lit up a cigarette. As to be expected, the wind was blowing the smoke directly toward me. I knew that the sinister kahuna was behind it all. Anything to bring me to my knees. Seeing that baby was a hottie, I overlooked the infraction. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaa!
I was able to connect to the Shaka Free wireless Wi-Fi® access point while sitting at the beach. My little Palm® TX is amazing! Well, at least I know that I have another option to connect to the Net. Heck, I was able to compose a portion of the "blog" live from Lou's Kabuki Theater. Yikes!
The semi-lucid homeless guy wanted to bum off a smoke again. He asked me the night before as well. A little later, the alleged pastor delivered food to the whole group. The homeless guy who usually smells like cheap brewskis and piss (read: urine) sat with the semi-lucid homeless guy as they both enjoyed their meals. I am not sure when he showed up. The alleged pastor chatted with the amputee with the wheelchair. A good time was had by all.
I was ready to depart at 10:30pm, but I had to make a "pit stop" at the restroom in Fudgepacker Park (formerly Kapi'olani Park). I decided to return to Waikiki Beach for a little while longer. I finally left Waikiki Beach at 11pm. I was a little frustrated because I was unable to send the e-mail with the "blog." I have no idea what the problem was. Then, I had to wait over 15 minutes at the bus stop before a bus arrived. When I boarded the bus, I espied the homeless guy who usually smells like cheap brewskis and piss. What was he doing on the bus? Is he really homeless? Or, is he commuting to Waikiki for a free meal?
When I arrived back in Waikiki, I was tempted to purchase some cheap booze. However, I held off, thanks to my infinite willpower. I walked back to the hotel. I sat in the lobby and connected to the Wi-Fi® wireless access point that I discovered the other day. I was able to send the e-mail successfully. With that done, I called it a night. I felt less anxious after my little outing to Lou's Kabuki Theater. I am somewhat dumbfounded that the latter is my only diversion, although it is I who whittled all of my options down to nothing.
Sunday morning is always the same. I drank several cups of the "freeze-dried" concoction substituting for coffee for the guests in the hotel lobby. Why do I keep mentioning, "for the guests"? On the beverage machine, there is a sign that reads, "For Hotel Guests Only." I ignore the sign. I always read the Sunday paper, which is also for the hotel guests. Sadly, I always look at the advertising inserts. Then, I peruse the real estate listings. Hawai'i home prices are still going up slightly even though sales have leveled off. Apparently, Bill Gates of Microsoft® is going to building a huge estate here on O'ahu. It turns out that there are quite a few of the rich and famous who own large estates here. That is why property values in Hawai'i may never go down. Hawai'i also has an international appeal. Thus, the real estate market can weather almost any storm. There is always some rich asshole who wants to build a palatial manor in Hawai'i.
After piddling around in my little shoebox, I left for town at 10:30am. I left earlier than usual for a Sunday because I wanted to sit in the lanai area of the Beretania Street Apartments which faces the small park. The homeless and the destitute were occupying most of the park benches from what I could see. I sat and enjoyed the beauty of the park from my vantage point.
At noon, I walked to the Diploma Mill and ended up in the student computer lab for another afternoon of computer fun. I carried my beloved Palm® TX with me, just in case I needed it. I took a break at 2pm to go to the gym to do my usual workout. The hottie gym trainer was busy working with a gym member. Baby was looking hot. After the gym, I was famished. I gave in to temptation and purchased two Cheesy Bean and Rice burritos at Taco Bell®. Delicioso!
A film crew was setting up what appeared to be an Asian marketplace along a small portion of Fort Street Mall. The existing shops were made to look like a Third-World bazaar. I ended up back in the student computer lab until 5pm, when I must return, albeit reluctantly, to Waikiki on the bus.
Pseudo-professor Mike had invited me to a small pool party over at the Honolulu Tower this afternoon. I decided not to attend. I have become very suspicious of his motives. Almost everything that he does has "strings" attached. Yesterday, he made the suggestion that I could split the rent with him for his new office. He wants to build a sleeping loft in it, such that I could sell my "condotel" unit and live in the office space. With his divorce pending, he has become desperate to sell the house that he and his wife own in the Wilhemina Rise area. Rather than actively market the place, he has gone back to the crazy scheme of trying to find "investors" for the property, essentially to pay off his wife and turn around and sell it later for a profit. The "investors would put in $150,000 each. His perpetual scheming is what often bothers me. I am almost certain that he has actually no vested interest in the house. His spotty employment history precludes any possibility that he has contributed much to the mortgage. Rather than retain the services of a realtor, he decided to sell the house himself. Obviously, not much is happening. In the meantime, his new squeeze (whom he is living with at her place) is waiting on the promise of the stalled divorce. She is subsidizing him financially on that promise. What I essentially see is a situation that is going to implode. Pseudo-professor Mike has too many schemes going on concurrently. A while back, I was worried for him. Now, I am observing that he is painting himself into a corner by design.
I never thought that I would see the day when I would say, "$400,000 is chump change." However, that is what I'm saying right now. Here in Hawai'i, the latter amount is the same as being completely broke. About eight years ago, when I invoked my "Five Year Financial Plan" to save $100,000 in that time, I knew it was a negligible amount. However, I never expected that four times the amount is now nothing more than a drop in the bucket. That is why greed is running rampant. Even so-called "friends" are resorting to Ponzi schemes to extract money from others. A sure sign that the time of the end is nearing.
Saturday, November 11, 2006
Pizza With The Works Day 2006
Actually, it is officially "National Pizza With The Works Except Anchovies Day." I rode the bus to town this morning at 8:30am and ended up in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. I spent most of the day there except for a brief break to walk to Safeway® to purchase a few energy bars, four cans of Safeway® pork and beans, and two lard-filled Tina's® burritos for lunch. I also took a break at 2:15pm to do my workout at the gym. Later, I visited Pseudo-professor Mike at his new office. We were able to chat for a bit. After that, I returned to the faculty computer room. At 5pm, I left for Waikiki and the start of another l' ennui evening. Sheesh!
Yesterday, Professor Cathrin and I had an interesting chat about Hawai'i. She had recently been up to the North Shore. She told me about all of the changes. I haven't been in that area in probably over ten years. We both agreed that Hawai'i is no longer anything remotely resembling any kind of paradise. For me, I just cannot understand why anyone would come to visit Hawai'i. We don't even have any of the trademark icons that made Hawai'i famous, like the old pineapple and sugar cane fields. Even the natural beauty has been sold off and commercialized. Upon entering the former landmarks, one's eyes will feast upon an artificially enhanced spectacle. A good example is Waimea Falls. The waterfall itself is pathetic. It's not much larger than the water feature in many backyards. Yet, the developers have built a huge shopping and restaurant complex there. The admission fee is outrageous. The landscaping looks nothing like the real Hawai'i. The genuine Hawai'ian souvenirs are all made in China or the Philippines.
Development continues because the moneychangers want to squeeze out as much dough as possible from the "cash cow." I am bewildered when I see all of the new housing developments popping up, such as the almost sold out Trump Tower at Waikiki Beach Walk. The island already has a severe water shortage. The aquifers can no longer keep up. We have run out of landfill space as well. One of the plans is to actually ship the garbage back to the mainland. Can you imagine what that is going to cost? Our transportation issues are unsolvable, even though the plans for a light rail system are being hastily implemented. As I've mentioned before, Hawai'i will be at the forefront of systemic collapse. Rather than learn from the ill-fated Moai on Easter island, we continue to pave over every possible square-inch of the islands. We will also serve as the working model of the secular Apocalypse.
Yesterday, Professor Cathrin and I had an interesting chat about Hawai'i. She had recently been up to the North Shore. She told me about all of the changes. I haven't been in that area in probably over ten years. We both agreed that Hawai'i is no longer anything remotely resembling any kind of paradise. For me, I just cannot understand why anyone would come to visit Hawai'i. We don't even have any of the trademark icons that made Hawai'i famous, like the old pineapple and sugar cane fields. Even the natural beauty has been sold off and commercialized. Upon entering the former landmarks, one's eyes will feast upon an artificially enhanced spectacle. A good example is Waimea Falls. The waterfall itself is pathetic. It's not much larger than the water feature in many backyards. Yet, the developers have built a huge shopping and restaurant complex there. The admission fee is outrageous. The landscaping looks nothing like the real Hawai'i. The genuine Hawai'ian souvenirs are all made in China or the Philippines.
Development continues because the moneychangers want to squeeze out as much dough as possible from the "cash cow." I am bewildered when I see all of the new housing developments popping up, such as the almost sold out Trump Tower at Waikiki Beach Walk. The island already has a severe water shortage. The aquifers can no longer keep up. We have run out of landfill space as well. One of the plans is to actually ship the garbage back to the mainland. Can you imagine what that is going to cost? Our transportation issues are unsolvable, even though the plans for a light rail system are being hastily implemented. As I've mentioned before, Hawai'i will be at the forefront of systemic collapse. Rather than learn from the ill-fated Moai on Easter island, we continue to pave over every possible square-inch of the islands. We will also serve as the working model of the secular Apocalypse.
Friday, November 10, 2006
Veteran's Day 2006
After I returned to my little shoebox last night, I became quite restless. I ate my mendicant meal consisting of beans and bread. Prison food. I cleaned the dump with my humble dustpan and brush. Not satisfied with these wholesome activities, I departed for Waikiki Beach on the bus at 8:30pm. Lou's Kabuki Theater was very dismal. The amputee in the wheelchair was parked next to one of the tables under the pavilion structure. He was passed out. There were several other possibly homeless people at the other table, mostly new faces. At about 9pm, the semi-lucid homeless guy appeared out of nowhere. He laid down on one of the benches facing the ocean. I could not see his baby stroller.
The air had a slight chill. A few satanic gargoyles passed by, but none of them ventured in. I departed at 10pm. The homeless are seemingly decent people. They are not haughty or arrogant. They do not cause disturbances in order to call attention to themselves. Compare that with group of asshole satanic gargoyles that I encountered while I walked back to the hotel from the bus stop. About ten twenty-something wannabe studs were walking in the opposite direction. Naturally, they "owned" the sidewalk. They also made hella noise in order to call attention to themselves. Catcalls to the chicks were also served up generously by the dickheads. Guess which hotel the asswipes are staying in?
I really don't give a shit about people like that. If I saw them laying on the road in pain, I would laugh my ass off and walk on. I have no compassion or empathy for asswipes and satanic gargoyles. In the coming days of the secular Apocalypse, I expect to encounter many satanic gargoyles in their most helpless state. My compassion would only serve to put them out of their misery quickly. I will, however, serve the humble and meek ones.
I calculated the amount of dough that I spent on cheap booze last month, which amounted to $35 and some change. As you may recall, my financial updates consolidate food and "beverages." That's a big chunk of my budget. I could have purchased a good survival knife for that amount. Or, I could have purchased a new lithium battery for my Nova® Spirit electronic restraining device. Clearly, I will need to set my priorities straight. Survival is priority one.
I ate a few Sunkist® pistachio nuts from the big package that moms gave me. I also ate a couple of slices of Safeway® bread with Safeway® organic peanut butter. I am always and thankful that the earth provides so much good food stuff. Too bad that most of it has been processed into junk food.
Since this was a holiday, I slept in until 8:30am. At 10am, I ate a mendicant lunch consisting of canned tuna with bread. I spent a little time in the lobby amongst the most arrogant tourists I have encountered so far. I was able to connect to another Wi-Fi® wireless access point with ease. It looks as though I will need to spend time in the lobby with my Palm® TX in order to connect to the Net.
A day like this tends to really expose the empty nature of my life in general. The "existential vacuum" became quite self-evident, as did my mortality. I had nowhere to go, and nothing to do. The Diploma Mill offices were closed for the day, so I was really fit to be tied. All I could do was ruminate and transcribe my thoughts for the "blog" while I sat in the detestable hotel lobby. I am actually composing a good portion of the "blog" on my Palm® TX now, which is quite a fait accompli given its size.
I suppose that I should dispel any myths about my often misconstrued unicentric (read: egocentric) viewpoint. I can only compose a compressed account of my daily activities and thoughts. At times, it may seem as though I am at the center of the universe, that I have become "wise in my own eyes." For example, in my writings, I appear to be the only human on earth, with everyone else being satanic gargoyles. While at times I certainly feel that way, I am aware of the existence of real people. There aren't that many. Once one becomes a satanic gargoyle, the floodgates of the "seven sins" epidemic is opened completely. The heart and mind of the poor soul is completely corrupted. And, I have mentioned before that I was once one of them.
As far as accusations of my alleged homophobia and latent fudgepacker tendencies are concerned, rest assured that these are myths perpetuated by armchair psychologists. "Pop psychology" is so embedded in our culture that a day probably doesn't pass without some moron providing us with an intrusive psychoanalytic moment. That's when the satanic gargoyles tell us what's wrong with us, mustering up any and all psycho-babble they have heard on the tube. No surprise that a large percentage of First World citizens are on psychotropic medication.
I am not homophobic. I only have a problem with old fudgepackers who physically assault any unwitting victim because their dicks are hard for 36 hours straight thanks to Cialis®. In my day-to-day existence, I am in contact with several gay or possibly latent gay guys. They respect me, and I respect them. Isn't that the magic formula for peaceful coexistence?
I am not a misogynist either. I am attracted to babes, which attests to the fact that the Vienna Sausage is still operational. Fortunately, I am attracted to babes who are "out of my league." That spares me a lot of grief. I've long ago discovered that I have nothing in common with babes. My life-style is totally opposite that of most babes. I am no longer willing to return to a materialistic life-style. And, that's what it would take to maintain a modern relationship with modern chicks.
I have grown weary of the hotel living experience, as I knew would happen. I rechecked the real estate listings and discovered that four "condotel" units are still for sale. These albatrosses will be hard to dump in a buyer's market. Tentatively, I plan to list my little shoebox for sale at the 18-month mark. Given the amount of time the other units have been listed, I may have to list it even earlier. I am only planning to break-even. Nothing more, nothing less. As my situation begins to crumble after the Countdown to the Meltdown, I may even take more drastic steps. Every aspect of my life is changing much more rapidly than I had predicted, which is why I sense that there will be no long-term stability for any of us. Planning or committing to anything or anyone for the long haul may be less than prudent.
I am a little worried that I will react to the impending doom and cause myself more harm than good. I may, for example, impulsively decide to become homeless. Homeless life in Hawai'i is not exactly ideal as some may think. Yes, the weather is perfect to sleep out in the open. However, the homeless epidemic has now seen severe overcrowding in all of the shelters, beaches, and parks. In the "tent cities" (read: affluent homeless), there exists a tremendous amount of strife, mainly because the population consists of working families. Domestic altercations and camping territory issues are at the forefront. Theft and violence are other issues. Most of the homeless were either evicted or they voluntarily moved out of housing because of the inability to afford the exorbitant rentals. And, most have been homeless for less than a year. That explains why the level of dereliction, aside from hygiene issues, is low. As I have stated, the homeless problem is just going to get worse.
I decided to leave for town at 1pm on the bus. What would have been a pleasant trip was marred by several locals. The most annoying were the two young Filipina chicks who boarded the bus and sat on the rear seat which was adjacent to the one I was sitting on. The put their legs up on the armrest. Their shit-caked shoes were about two feet away from my head. In addition, they kept moving their legs which caused them to bump their shoes against the armrest. Each bump was felt by me. The common advice is to ignore this behavior and live with it. Yet, that's exactly what we've done for years. Now, we've ignored so much of the degeneration of society that it's at the "point of no return." Common courtesy, which is the basis of mutual respect, has been mummified. It is a fossilized relic, an antiquity. If we fully understand the implications of these kinds of observations, then we can be assured that the worst is yet to come.
Unlike the eternal optimists, I have no faith that humankind can restore previous values that have been made obsolete. Values that are imperative to society are taught and passed on to subsequent generations. With the current trend of "progressive" parenting, there won't be much to pass on except the selfish consumerist values (term used loosely). Hence, the "seven sins" epidemic will continue unabated and produce myriad satanic gargoyles for generations to come.
There is one way to escape the barbaric elements of society. Of course, that would mean the total acceptance of wage slavery. I would have to strive to earn a lot of dough. Then, I could purchase a private estate in a gated community to reside in. I would be able to drive a very large SUV (read: portable living room) in privacy everywhere. I would be able to afford the prime parking spaces or valet parking, which would preclude any encounters with the riff-raff. Just imagine the amount of dough that I would have to earn to enjoy such a life-style. Yet, that's exactly the message that is delivered every split-second to all of the "connected" consumers. The unattainable dream. I am shocked to see how many satanic gargoyles have bought into this impossible dream. Even the poorest of losers believe they are much better off than they are. Reality bites.
When I arrived in town, I ended up at Chinatown Park on Beretania Street. Actually, I sat in the large lanai area of the Beretania Street Apartments located adjacent to the park. The park benches are usually occupied by the homeless anyway. I brought my Palm® TX with me. Thus, I was able to continue with the composition of the "blog."
Downtown was busy, since all of the stores were open. After all, shopping is the number one activity in the world, followed by tube-watching and junk food consumption. I can never embrace that kind of benign life-style ever again. If anything should be called "meaningless," the aforementioned activities are prime candidates.
I walked to the gym at 2:15pm to do my usual workout. My clothes and workout towel are beginning to smell nauseous, the same sickening smell characteristic of the homeless. I wash (by hand) and wear the same gym clothes daily for ten days, the allotted time period between laundry days. I am certain that the hotties on the adjacent elliptical machines could detect the foul odor. There's nothing that I can do. I live in abject poverty.
After the gym, I walked to the Diploma Mill. The offices were all closed. However, the small lobby of one of the buildings was open. There were benches that I could sit on. I made myself comfortable, then connected to the Diploma Mill Wi-Fi® wireless access point with my Palm® TX. A few minutes later, Professor Cathrin exited one of the elevators. We ended up chatting for a while. I left for Waikiki on the bus at 5pm.
I enjoyed a delicious meal consisting of my last can of Safeway® ravioli with a few slices of bread. I cleaned my little shoebox with my humble dustpan and brush. Then, I sat around doing nothing.
At 9pm, I could not take it anymore. I departed for Lou's Kabuki Theater in Waikiki Beach. When I arrived, I was disappointed to find no activity. Only one of the new homeless guys was sitting on the stonewall next to the pavilion structure. He was singing several "moldy-oldies" off-key at the top of his lungs. The semi-lucid homeless guy was sitting at one of the tables. The local homeless babe (term used loosely) was also there. I sat there until 10:30pm.
On the way back to the hotel, I stopped off at the ABC Store to purchase a rip-off $2.79 salad and some fruit. No cheap booze. I'll save that for laundry night. After returning to my little shoebox, I ate the salad along with a couple slices of Orowheat® bread with Safeway® organic peanut butter. What an exciting holiday, eh?
The air had a slight chill. A few satanic gargoyles passed by, but none of them ventured in. I departed at 10pm. The homeless are seemingly decent people. They are not haughty or arrogant. They do not cause disturbances in order to call attention to themselves. Compare that with group of asshole satanic gargoyles that I encountered while I walked back to the hotel from the bus stop. About ten twenty-something wannabe studs were walking in the opposite direction. Naturally, they "owned" the sidewalk. They also made hella noise in order to call attention to themselves. Catcalls to the chicks were also served up generously by the dickheads. Guess which hotel the asswipes are staying in?
I really don't give a shit about people like that. If I saw them laying on the road in pain, I would laugh my ass off and walk on. I have no compassion or empathy for asswipes and satanic gargoyles. In the coming days of the secular Apocalypse, I expect to encounter many satanic gargoyles in their most helpless state. My compassion would only serve to put them out of their misery quickly. I will, however, serve the humble and meek ones.
I calculated the amount of dough that I spent on cheap booze last month, which amounted to $35 and some change. As you may recall, my financial updates consolidate food and "beverages." That's a big chunk of my budget. I could have purchased a good survival knife for that amount. Or, I could have purchased a new lithium battery for my Nova® Spirit electronic restraining device. Clearly, I will need to set my priorities straight. Survival is priority one.
I ate a few Sunkist® pistachio nuts from the big package that moms gave me. I also ate a couple of slices of Safeway® bread with Safeway® organic peanut butter. I am always and thankful that the earth provides so much good food stuff. Too bad that most of it has been processed into junk food.
Since this was a holiday, I slept in until 8:30am. At 10am, I ate a mendicant lunch consisting of canned tuna with bread. I spent a little time in the lobby amongst the most arrogant tourists I have encountered so far. I was able to connect to another Wi-Fi® wireless access point with ease. It looks as though I will need to spend time in the lobby with my Palm® TX in order to connect to the Net.
A day like this tends to really expose the empty nature of my life in general. The "existential vacuum" became quite self-evident, as did my mortality. I had nowhere to go, and nothing to do. The Diploma Mill offices were closed for the day, so I was really fit to be tied. All I could do was ruminate and transcribe my thoughts for the "blog" while I sat in the detestable hotel lobby. I am actually composing a good portion of the "blog" on my Palm® TX now, which is quite a fait accompli given its size.
I suppose that I should dispel any myths about my often misconstrued unicentric (read: egocentric) viewpoint. I can only compose a compressed account of my daily activities and thoughts. At times, it may seem as though I am at the center of the universe, that I have become "wise in my own eyes." For example, in my writings, I appear to be the only human on earth, with everyone else being satanic gargoyles. While at times I certainly feel that way, I am aware of the existence of real people. There aren't that many. Once one becomes a satanic gargoyle, the floodgates of the "seven sins" epidemic is opened completely. The heart and mind of the poor soul is completely corrupted. And, I have mentioned before that I was once one of them.
As far as accusations of my alleged homophobia and latent fudgepacker tendencies are concerned, rest assured that these are myths perpetuated by armchair psychologists. "Pop psychology" is so embedded in our culture that a day probably doesn't pass without some moron providing us with an intrusive psychoanalytic moment. That's when the satanic gargoyles tell us what's wrong with us, mustering up any and all psycho-babble they have heard on the tube. No surprise that a large percentage of First World citizens are on psychotropic medication.
I am not homophobic. I only have a problem with old fudgepackers who physically assault any unwitting victim because their dicks are hard for 36 hours straight thanks to Cialis®. In my day-to-day existence, I am in contact with several gay or possibly latent gay guys. They respect me, and I respect them. Isn't that the magic formula for peaceful coexistence?
I am not a misogynist either. I am attracted to babes, which attests to the fact that the Vienna Sausage is still operational. Fortunately, I am attracted to babes who are "out of my league." That spares me a lot of grief. I've long ago discovered that I have nothing in common with babes. My life-style is totally opposite that of most babes. I am no longer willing to return to a materialistic life-style. And, that's what it would take to maintain a modern relationship with modern chicks.
I have grown weary of the hotel living experience, as I knew would happen. I rechecked the real estate listings and discovered that four "condotel" units are still for sale. These albatrosses will be hard to dump in a buyer's market. Tentatively, I plan to list my little shoebox for sale at the 18-month mark. Given the amount of time the other units have been listed, I may have to list it even earlier. I am only planning to break-even. Nothing more, nothing less. As my situation begins to crumble after the Countdown to the Meltdown, I may even take more drastic steps. Every aspect of my life is changing much more rapidly than I had predicted, which is why I sense that there will be no long-term stability for any of us. Planning or committing to anything or anyone for the long haul may be less than prudent.
I am a little worried that I will react to the impending doom and cause myself more harm than good. I may, for example, impulsively decide to become homeless. Homeless life in Hawai'i is not exactly ideal as some may think. Yes, the weather is perfect to sleep out in the open. However, the homeless epidemic has now seen severe overcrowding in all of the shelters, beaches, and parks. In the "tent cities" (read: affluent homeless), there exists a tremendous amount of strife, mainly because the population consists of working families. Domestic altercations and camping territory issues are at the forefront. Theft and violence are other issues. Most of the homeless were either evicted or they voluntarily moved out of housing because of the inability to afford the exorbitant rentals. And, most have been homeless for less than a year. That explains why the level of dereliction, aside from hygiene issues, is low. As I have stated, the homeless problem is just going to get worse.
I decided to leave for town at 1pm on the bus. What would have been a pleasant trip was marred by several locals. The most annoying were the two young Filipina chicks who boarded the bus and sat on the rear seat which was adjacent to the one I was sitting on. The put their legs up on the armrest. Their shit-caked shoes were about two feet away from my head. In addition, they kept moving their legs which caused them to bump their shoes against the armrest. Each bump was felt by me. The common advice is to ignore this behavior and live with it. Yet, that's exactly what we've done for years. Now, we've ignored so much of the degeneration of society that it's at the "point of no return." Common courtesy, which is the basis of mutual respect, has been mummified. It is a fossilized relic, an antiquity. If we fully understand the implications of these kinds of observations, then we can be assured that the worst is yet to come.
Unlike the eternal optimists, I have no faith that humankind can restore previous values that have been made obsolete. Values that are imperative to society are taught and passed on to subsequent generations. With the current trend of "progressive" parenting, there won't be much to pass on except the selfish consumerist values (term used loosely). Hence, the "seven sins" epidemic will continue unabated and produce myriad satanic gargoyles for generations to come.
There is one way to escape the barbaric elements of society. Of course, that would mean the total acceptance of wage slavery. I would have to strive to earn a lot of dough. Then, I could purchase a private estate in a gated community to reside in. I would be able to drive a very large SUV (read: portable living room) in privacy everywhere. I would be able to afford the prime parking spaces or valet parking, which would preclude any encounters with the riff-raff. Just imagine the amount of dough that I would have to earn to enjoy such a life-style. Yet, that's exactly the message that is delivered every split-second to all of the "connected" consumers. The unattainable dream. I am shocked to see how many satanic gargoyles have bought into this impossible dream. Even the poorest of losers believe they are much better off than they are. Reality bites.
When I arrived in town, I ended up at Chinatown Park on Beretania Street. Actually, I sat in the large lanai area of the Beretania Street Apartments located adjacent to the park. The park benches are usually occupied by the homeless anyway. I brought my Palm® TX with me. Thus, I was able to continue with the composition of the "blog."
Downtown was busy, since all of the stores were open. After all, shopping is the number one activity in the world, followed by tube-watching and junk food consumption. I can never embrace that kind of benign life-style ever again. If anything should be called "meaningless," the aforementioned activities are prime candidates.
I walked to the gym at 2:15pm to do my usual workout. My clothes and workout towel are beginning to smell nauseous, the same sickening smell characteristic of the homeless. I wash (by hand) and wear the same gym clothes daily for ten days, the allotted time period between laundry days. I am certain that the hotties on the adjacent elliptical machines could detect the foul odor. There's nothing that I can do. I live in abject poverty.
After the gym, I walked to the Diploma Mill. The offices were all closed. However, the small lobby of one of the buildings was open. There were benches that I could sit on. I made myself comfortable, then connected to the Diploma Mill Wi-Fi® wireless access point with my Palm® TX. A few minutes later, Professor Cathrin exited one of the elevators. We ended up chatting for a while. I left for Waikiki on the bus at 5pm.
I enjoyed a delicious meal consisting of my last can of Safeway® ravioli with a few slices of bread. I cleaned my little shoebox with my humble dustpan and brush. Then, I sat around doing nothing.
At 9pm, I could not take it anymore. I departed for Lou's Kabuki Theater in Waikiki Beach. When I arrived, I was disappointed to find no activity. Only one of the new homeless guys was sitting on the stonewall next to the pavilion structure. He was singing several "moldy-oldies" off-key at the top of his lungs. The semi-lucid homeless guy was sitting at one of the tables. The local homeless babe (term used loosely) was also there. I sat there until 10:30pm.
On the way back to the hotel, I stopped off at the ABC Store to purchase a rip-off $2.79 salad and some fruit. No cheap booze. I'll save that for laundry night. After returning to my little shoebox, I ate the salad along with a couple slices of Orowheat® bread with Safeway® organic peanut butter. What an exciting holiday, eh?
Thursday, November 09, 2006
Wrong is Right (Again)
I was extremely fatigued when I arrived back in Waikiki. I have not felt like attending the evening performance of Lou's Kabuki Theater at all. Last night was not any different. Let me make it perfectly clear that sitting in my little shoebox all night long is an unacceptable compromise. I heated up a can of Safeway® ravioli and ate the latter with Safeway® bread slices. I watched the election post-game show on CNN. I cleaned my little shoebox with my humble dust pan and brush a little earlier than usual. I had nothing else to do.
In all honesty, I cannot imagine going through this shitty routine every night for the next few years. A casual analysis yielded evidence of my growing disdain of hotel living and the dumpy hotel itself. Upon further scrutiny, I was able to isolate a deeper problem. My overall strategy to increase my mendicant life-style was flawed because the latter had basis in the constructs that I disavowed in the last two days. Perhaps that also explains why my interest in the homeless plight has waned dramatically.
In addition, there is Mike Ruppert's shocking retraction of his original suggestion that seeking exile abroad was the optimal solution. He is currently facing major obstacles in obtaining political asylum in Venezuela in addition to health and acculturation problems. The implications of Ruppert's dilemma are clear. The backdrop of my survival plan may be my own backyard, as it were, in order to insure a modicum of success. What I mean by "success" is staying alive.
By 10pm, I was in total confusion. I was also very "thirsty." Needless to say, the last emergency can of Coors® served a dual-fold purpose. Shortly after droppin' back the whole can, I was confused again. The confusion was growing. During momentary lapses of cognizance, I could visualize the extensive list of on-line accounts of all types that have been sitting in my mental queue slated for termination. Here, the Countdown to the Meltdown is ticking away, and still I'm kicking the can. Sheesh!
I departed for town on the bus at 8am, much earlier than I expected. What would I do to occupy myself in my little shoebox anyway? I spent most of the day in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill with breaks to check my mail, shop at Safeway®, and go to the gym. I spent the rest of the afternoon at the faculty computer room. Pseudo-professor Mike stopped in for a couple of hours, so we were able to chat. I will return to Waikiki at 7pm on the bus. Tomorrow is a holiday, so I will be beside myself to find something to do. Oh brother.
I read with amusement about the final victory for the Democrats as they assume control of the Senate. The Republican concession was just too easy. We have seen bitter contests in elections since the 2000 election, along with massive amount of evidence dealing with voter fraud. Obviously, the latter was lumped into the all-encompassing "denial" category known as "conspiracy theory." In the close races, there was absolutely no resistance offered, unlike what we witnessed in previous years. No recounts. No "Brooks Brothers®" thugs sent to harass the election canvassers. No lawsuits. Very clean and amicable concessions. Do you find that odd as I do? The Republicans voluntarily stepped back as ordered by the real power brokers. The "bad cops" exited the stage. Enter the "good cops," in a sweep no less. Very odd. Once a pattern is established, it is not normally broken unintentionally. Many so-called "progressives" are themselves dismissing previous claims of vote tampering to "conspiracy theory" as we speak.
Some of the more skeptical "progressives" are concerned that the Democrats are being set up for a fall. They believe that the Republicans have foreknowledge of extremely hard times ahead. With the Democrats in the majority, the latter would naturally be blamed. With the Democrats completely discredited, the 2008 presidential election would be easily handed over to the Republicans. Only a few "progressives" are seeing the real truth, however. The "good cops" are being sent in to pacify as much of the dissenters as possible. If the "progressives" could be fragmented as well, then all the better.
The political system is simply theatrics. Mind fodder. In fact, there is almost no difference between the elections and an NFL® football game. Both are equally mindless. Both involve millions upon millions of dollars. Both have entertainment value. Both rely heavily upon the tube. I have become more convinced that the events are leading up to the secular Apocalypse. Theatrics aside, the world is approaching the "point of no return" as I've discussed ad inifinitum. In the next six to ten years, the fun and games will have to end.
My confusion of last night was abated when I realized that I now have two fundamental objectives: freedom and survival. Unlike my earlier unrefined thinking, my modified conclusion is that freedom and survival go hand-in-hand. In the First World, money is the entity that binds freedom and survival, or should I say, the lack of money. So, now we are talking about urban survival. Well, I will be ruminating on this matter during the long weekend.
In all honesty, I cannot imagine going through this shitty routine every night for the next few years. A casual analysis yielded evidence of my growing disdain of hotel living and the dumpy hotel itself. Upon further scrutiny, I was able to isolate a deeper problem. My overall strategy to increase my mendicant life-style was flawed because the latter had basis in the constructs that I disavowed in the last two days. Perhaps that also explains why my interest in the homeless plight has waned dramatically.
In addition, there is Mike Ruppert's shocking retraction of his original suggestion that seeking exile abroad was the optimal solution. He is currently facing major obstacles in obtaining political asylum in Venezuela in addition to health and acculturation problems. The implications of Ruppert's dilemma are clear. The backdrop of my survival plan may be my own backyard, as it were, in order to insure a modicum of success. What I mean by "success" is staying alive.
By 10pm, I was in total confusion. I was also very "thirsty." Needless to say, the last emergency can of Coors® served a dual-fold purpose. Shortly after droppin' back the whole can, I was confused again. The confusion was growing. During momentary lapses of cognizance, I could visualize the extensive list of on-line accounts of all types that have been sitting in my mental queue slated for termination. Here, the Countdown to the Meltdown is ticking away, and still I'm kicking the can. Sheesh!
I departed for town on the bus at 8am, much earlier than I expected. What would I do to occupy myself in my little shoebox anyway? I spent most of the day in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill with breaks to check my mail, shop at Safeway®, and go to the gym. I spent the rest of the afternoon at the faculty computer room. Pseudo-professor Mike stopped in for a couple of hours, so we were able to chat. I will return to Waikiki at 7pm on the bus. Tomorrow is a holiday, so I will be beside myself to find something to do. Oh brother.
I read with amusement about the final victory for the Democrats as they assume control of the Senate. The Republican concession was just too easy. We have seen bitter contests in elections since the 2000 election, along with massive amount of evidence dealing with voter fraud. Obviously, the latter was lumped into the all-encompassing "denial" category known as "conspiracy theory." In the close races, there was absolutely no resistance offered, unlike what we witnessed in previous years. No recounts. No "Brooks Brothers®" thugs sent to harass the election canvassers. No lawsuits. Very clean and amicable concessions. Do you find that odd as I do? The Republicans voluntarily stepped back as ordered by the real power brokers. The "bad cops" exited the stage. Enter the "good cops," in a sweep no less. Very odd. Once a pattern is established, it is not normally broken unintentionally. Many so-called "progressives" are themselves dismissing previous claims of vote tampering to "conspiracy theory" as we speak.
Some of the more skeptical "progressives" are concerned that the Democrats are being set up for a fall. They believe that the Republicans have foreknowledge of extremely hard times ahead. With the Democrats in the majority, the latter would naturally be blamed. With the Democrats completely discredited, the 2008 presidential election would be easily handed over to the Republicans. Only a few "progressives" are seeing the real truth, however. The "good cops" are being sent in to pacify as much of the dissenters as possible. If the "progressives" could be fragmented as well, then all the better.
The political system is simply theatrics. Mind fodder. In fact, there is almost no difference between the elections and an NFL® football game. Both are equally mindless. Both involve millions upon millions of dollars. Both have entertainment value. Both rely heavily upon the tube. I have become more convinced that the events are leading up to the secular Apocalypse. Theatrics aside, the world is approaching the "point of no return" as I've discussed ad inifinitum. In the next six to ten years, the fun and games will have to end.
My confusion of last night was abated when I realized that I now have two fundamental objectives: freedom and survival. Unlike my earlier unrefined thinking, my modified conclusion is that freedom and survival go hand-in-hand. In the First World, money is the entity that binds freedom and survival, or should I say, the lack of money. So, now we are talking about urban survival. Well, I will be ruminating on this matter during the long weekend.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Proof is in the Pudding
I spent the evening in my little shoebox. I watched the election returns with little interest as I ate my dinner consisting of a can of Coral® tuna and a few slices of bread. Although there appeared to be a sweep by the Democrats in the House and a "close shave" in the Senate, there no were cheers heard from my little shoebox. I do not believe that there is any fundamental difference between either of the two predominant political parties. When the call for the invasion of Iraq came up, there was little to no dissension from either party.
Now, look at the mess that both political parties have created. That blemish alone finally caused me to wash my hands of the political process. I realized that only the moneychangers and the powers-that-be control the monkey just as a skilled organ grinder. What is even more absurd is that the average satanic gargoyle marched in lockstep for the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. Only after the occupation of Iraq started going downhill did we witness any public outrage. Hypocrites! Armchair warriors! That is why I have aligned myself with the Socialists for Molech party, but only for political direction and subterfuge. Frankly, the only real hope lies with the Almighty.
So, why did the Democrats win big, even considering that the highly probable "fix" was in? This is the classic "good cop, bad cop" switch. With public outrage rising, the moneychangers and the powers-that-be allowed the "good cops" to win. Remember, the only difference between the "good cops" and the "bad cops" is perception. The unsuspecting public will feel empowered and become extremely malleable. This would also have prevented a highly probable eruption of violent civil disobedience. In addition, the time is not right for the secular Apocalypse because all of the mechanisms are not yet in place. I am surprised to see that even the most rabid of the so-called "progressives" are running amuck, claiming some kind of nebulous victory. What a crock of shit! When the organ grinder turns the crank, the monkey will do what it is trained to do.
As I viewed to the same sickening clips over and over again of the various candidate who won the election, I began to see through the kabuki masks hiding the ugly satanic gargoyle features beneath. The same idotic mantras were emanating from their mouth-like orifices. We will work together. The American people have spoken. Change is on the horizon. Blah, blah, blah. How many times have we heard these same old clichés? In the months to come, we will see by the fruits of their actions.
Later in the evening, I cleaned my little shoebox with my humble dustpan and brush. Soon, I will be swept up myself by the big dustpan when the secular Apocalypse is invoked. Fortunately, I have the lone chawan at my side.
I was happy to spend time with moms yesterday. After all, this is my mother. My mom. The last of my parents. For me, this something that I feel must be done. I don't particularly care to hear any armchair Freudian or Jungian analyses of my "abnormal" relationship with my mother. Yes, I have retained many of the values inculcated in me by parents, but that is what made me the kind of person that I am. As far as I am concerned, there is no reason for me to sever my ties with my mom, as Anonder persistently urged to the point of his frustration. My growth as an individual, he asserted, would be severely hampered because I am allegedly tethered to my mother. I would regress rather than progress in my quest to become spiritually enlightened as he has so far accomplished. As I have already postulated, the highly "enlightened" form of spirituality is an impossible dream that will force the unwitting victim to seek out the Dark Side and the occult for answers.
Human beings have an incredible attachment to their parents for a reason. Human babies require much more attention and care for a much longer duration of time than any other species. This would make no sense, especially to evolutionists. If the theory of evolution was valid, we should observe significant improvements in the "evolved" species. Human babies should be weaned of their parents almost immediately. There are many other holes in the theory, which I will discuss sometime in the future. There is a reason for the long weaning period. Human parents have the responsibility to raise their children by inculcating values and integrity by showing love and using discipline. The reason that we see so many satanic gargoyles is because the relationship between parents and their children have eroded to the point of being non-existent. For that, I am thankful for my parents and for the last chance to spend time with them before I never see them again.
I was a little choked up as I composed the "blog." There are certain aspects of this phase in life that invoke emotionality, with the passing of my parents being one. I became quite "thirsty" during my ruminations. I popped open one of the "emergency" Coors® brewskis and dropped back its contents. I felt better. Then, I felt stupid. All of life is stupid, I said to myself. We are charging to the slaughter, our own destruction, and we don't even care. Even the "enlightened" ones will perish.
Another day of wage slavery. And, another day crossed off in the Countdown to the Meltdown. The election results are conclusive for both the House and the Senate. The "progressive" and alternative media have let their guard down to launch a full-scale celebration for the "victory." Victory over what? So far, Donald Rumsfeld has been the only sacrificial lamb. He's simply the fall guy who will take the blame for the miserable outcome of the Iraq conflict. I still have serious doubts that the present course of the nation will change. It just doesn't matter who is in office. The world population is growing. Resources are depleting. Global crises are looming on the horizon. The secular Apocalypse cannot be stopped. It may be interesting to perform a currency watch on the dollar. And, let's see where oil prices head now that the elections are a done deal.
The day was mostly uneventful, with brief excursions to Safeway® and to the gym. The hottie gym trainer was there, although she apparently had no one scheduled to train. I spent most of the day in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. Pseudo-professors Bill and Jeff were there in the later part of the day. They are both apparently staunch Republicans. They discussed their disdain for the newly elected Democrats. I was amazed that they affiliate themselves with the political party of the pedigreed elite. The "proof is in the pudding" that the satanic gargoyles are totally detached from reality.
So, why did the Democrats win big, even considering that the highly probable "fix" was in? This is the classic "good cop, bad cop" switch. With public outrage rising, the moneychangers and the powers-that-be allowed the "good cops" to win. Remember, the only difference between the "good cops" and the "bad cops" is perception. The unsuspecting public will feel empowered and become extremely malleable. This would also have prevented a highly probable eruption of violent civil disobedience. In addition, the time is not right for the secular Apocalypse because all of the mechanisms are not yet in place. I am surprised to see that even the most rabid of the so-called "progressives" are running amuck, claiming some kind of nebulous victory. What a crock of shit! When the organ grinder turns the crank, the monkey will do what it is trained to do.
As I viewed to the same sickening clips over and over again of the various candidate who won the election, I began to see through the kabuki masks hiding the ugly satanic gargoyle features beneath. The same idotic mantras were emanating from their mouth-like orifices. We will work together. The American people have spoken. Change is on the horizon. Blah, blah, blah. How many times have we heard these same old clichés? In the months to come, we will see by the fruits of their actions.
Later in the evening, I cleaned my little shoebox with my humble dustpan and brush. Soon, I will be swept up myself by the big dustpan when the secular Apocalypse is invoked. Fortunately, I have the lone chawan at my side.
I was happy to spend time with moms yesterday. After all, this is my mother. My mom. The last of my parents. For me, this something that I feel must be done. I don't particularly care to hear any armchair Freudian or Jungian analyses of my "abnormal" relationship with my mother. Yes, I have retained many of the values inculcated in me by parents, but that is what made me the kind of person that I am. As far as I am concerned, there is no reason for me to sever my ties with my mom, as Anonder persistently urged to the point of his frustration. My growth as an individual, he asserted, would be severely hampered because I am allegedly tethered to my mother. I would regress rather than progress in my quest to become spiritually enlightened as he has so far accomplished. As I have already postulated, the highly "enlightened" form of spirituality is an impossible dream that will force the unwitting victim to seek out the Dark Side and the occult for answers.
Human beings have an incredible attachment to their parents for a reason. Human babies require much more attention and care for a much longer duration of time than any other species. This would make no sense, especially to evolutionists. If the theory of evolution was valid, we should observe significant improvements in the "evolved" species. Human babies should be weaned of their parents almost immediately. There are many other holes in the theory, which I will discuss sometime in the future. There is a reason for the long weaning period. Human parents have the responsibility to raise their children by inculcating values and integrity by showing love and using discipline. The reason that we see so many satanic gargoyles is because the relationship between parents and their children have eroded to the point of being non-existent. For that, I am thankful for my parents and for the last chance to spend time with them before I never see them again.
I was a little choked up as I composed the "blog." There are certain aspects of this phase in life that invoke emotionality, with the passing of my parents being one. I became quite "thirsty" during my ruminations. I popped open one of the "emergency" Coors® brewskis and dropped back its contents. I felt better. Then, I felt stupid. All of life is stupid, I said to myself. We are charging to the slaughter, our own destruction, and we don't even care. Even the "enlightened" ones will perish.
Another day of wage slavery. And, another day crossed off in the Countdown to the Meltdown. The election results are conclusive for both the House and the Senate. The "progressive" and alternative media have let their guard down to launch a full-scale celebration for the "victory." Victory over what? So far, Donald Rumsfeld has been the only sacrificial lamb. He's simply the fall guy who will take the blame for the miserable outcome of the Iraq conflict. I still have serious doubts that the present course of the nation will change. It just doesn't matter who is in office. The world population is growing. Resources are depleting. Global crises are looming on the horizon. The secular Apocalypse cannot be stopped. It may be interesting to perform a currency watch on the dollar. And, let's see where oil prices head now that the elections are a done deal.
The day was mostly uneventful, with brief excursions to Safeway® and to the gym. The hottie gym trainer was there, although she apparently had no one scheduled to train. I spent most of the day in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. Pseudo-professors Bill and Jeff were there in the later part of the day. They are both apparently staunch Republicans. They discussed their disdain for the newly elected Democrats. I was amazed that they affiliate themselves with the political party of the pedigreed elite. The "proof is in the pudding" that the satanic gargoyles are totally detached from reality.
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Lost
The Journey of the Mind is a done deal. Defunct. Kaput. Mummified. Don't get me wrong. It was a worthy attempt. However, I knew that I would progress no further than a mendicant monk. A poor old fool masquerading as an enlightened being, allegedly free of the shackles of the world. The monks, sages, false prophets, philosophers, gurus, swamis, soothsayers, yogis, or whatever else these charlatans want to call themselves are all full of shit. They will never or have never attained perfection in mind and spirit. Their utterings are full of shit because they are no different from you or I. They cannot ascend to a higher plane no matter how much of the material world they divest or renounce. This is a fallacy of the deluded mind. They are sinners just like the rest of us, even satanic gargoyles, only more clever about their deception. They hide behind words or mantras of selflessness. Yet, how is that possible? They are still of human flesh. Hypocrites!
I seek the mendicant life-style by renouncing as much of the material world as possible in order to immunize myself from the epidemic of the "seven sins." Nothing more, nothing less. I am removing the blinders from my eyes so that I can see the truth beyond the smoke and mirrors set up by the moneychangers and powers-that-be. I remain vigilant in seeking out the signs of the coming secular Apocalypse or Armageddon itself.
I have no desire to seek the fruits of the spiritual realm. I have no way of conceiving the immense power and knowledge only suitable for deities. We have already been given the gift of spirituality palatable for the human form. We can ask for nothing more.
Tell me, my friends, why are all the planets, moons, stars in the entire universe spherical? Why aren't any of them cubic or pyramidal? I ask for only one reason: I don't have the answer and no one else does either. The answer is important, although I am already alluding to the fact that there is an unusual consistency about the universe. We have made approximations of the energy output of various stars including our own sun. Yet, how can we even comprehend the total energy of the endless number of stars in the universe? The physics of the query is beyond our comprehension.
I enjoyed the bus ride back to Waikiki last night. The bus was fairly empty, and the passengers were behaving themselves. I opened a can of Van Camp's® Pork & Beans and ate the its contents with several slices of bread for dinner. I was fairly fatigued. I thought of attending the evening performance of Lou's Kabuki Theater, but I changed my mind. The last two nights at Waikiki Beach were horrendous and left a bad taste in my mouth, if you know what I mean.
I sat in my little shoebox all evening. I was in lockdown in my prison cell. Mind you, I despise sitting in the dump for any period of time. I reasoned with myself that I should mandate the evening to embark on the Journey of the Mind. That's when it dawned upon me. It's all a big sham and a waste of time. With the Countdown to the Meltdown in full swing, I have no more time to waste on bullshit.
I cleaned my little shoebox with my humble dustpan and brush. I perused the lone chawan. I sat on the floor in the dark and composed the "blog" on my beloved Palm® TX. Anything to prevent l' ennui from setting in.
I pondered new policies for my regime. I am going to resume the termination of unnecessary accounts of any kind. I will be making another sweep of my useless possessions to see what else can be divested. I am also going to put together an "escape" pack, which will contain minimal survival items. My new self-contained flashlight (not Fleshlight®) will be included. I may also include my Nova® Spirit electronic restraining device. As you know, I have a very bad feeling about the times ahead. Call it intuition.
At 10:41pm, the "existential vacuum" sucked me into its vortex. Oh, what to do ... what to do ...
Well, even though I was extremely "thirsty" last night, I did not break out the "emergency" brewskis. I departed for town at the usual time this morning. I ended up in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. At 10am, I rode the bus to Kahala Mall to meet moms. Since this was election day, the buses were on the holiday schedule. Moms was a little late. I managed to drop off more stuff at the Goodwill drop box. Moms and I ate lunch at Pearl's Korean Barbeque. Lunch was delicious. I had a chance to chat with moms for a while, although moms ended up missing the bus to Hawai'i Kai. We had forgotten about the holiday bus schedule. Moms walked across the street to the Route 58 bus stop. I had to wait at a different bus stop for the bus to town.
I did my usual workout at the gym. The hottie gym trainer was there, but she sat in the training office the whole time. After a nice workout and a warm shower, I returned to the faculty computer room for the rest of the afternoon. The hottie pseudo-professor stopped in for a few minutes. We chatted briefly. Baby is a real hottie. Whew! I will be leaving for Waikiki at 7pm.
Behind the scenes, I've been negotiating to obtain a few classes to facilitate at the Diploma Mill next year. I am not sure why I am attempting to maintain my enslavement to the "system." Since I have aborted the ill-fated Journey of the Mind, I am left with only one other preoccupation. Survival.
I seek the mendicant life-style by renouncing as much of the material world as possible in order to immunize myself from the epidemic of the "seven sins." Nothing more, nothing less. I am removing the blinders from my eyes so that I can see the truth beyond the smoke and mirrors set up by the moneychangers and powers-that-be. I remain vigilant in seeking out the signs of the coming secular Apocalypse or Armageddon itself.
I have no desire to seek the fruits of the spiritual realm. I have no way of conceiving the immense power and knowledge only suitable for deities. We have already been given the gift of spirituality palatable for the human form. We can ask for nothing more.
Tell me, my friends, why are all the planets, moons, stars in the entire universe spherical? Why aren't any of them cubic or pyramidal? I ask for only one reason: I don't have the answer and no one else does either. The answer is important, although I am already alluding to the fact that there is an unusual consistency about the universe. We have made approximations of the energy output of various stars including our own sun. Yet, how can we even comprehend the total energy of the endless number of stars in the universe? The physics of the query is beyond our comprehension.
I enjoyed the bus ride back to Waikiki last night. The bus was fairly empty, and the passengers were behaving themselves. I opened a can of Van Camp's® Pork & Beans and ate the its contents with several slices of bread for dinner. I was fairly fatigued. I thought of attending the evening performance of Lou's Kabuki Theater, but I changed my mind. The last two nights at Waikiki Beach were horrendous and left a bad taste in my mouth, if you know what I mean.
I sat in my little shoebox all evening. I was in lockdown in my prison cell. Mind you, I despise sitting in the dump for any period of time. I reasoned with myself that I should mandate the evening to embark on the Journey of the Mind. That's when it dawned upon me. It's all a big sham and a waste of time. With the Countdown to the Meltdown in full swing, I have no more time to waste on bullshit.
I cleaned my little shoebox with my humble dustpan and brush. I perused the lone chawan. I sat on the floor in the dark and composed the "blog" on my beloved Palm® TX. Anything to prevent l' ennui from setting in.
I pondered new policies for my regime. I am going to resume the termination of unnecessary accounts of any kind. I will be making another sweep of my useless possessions to see what else can be divested. I am also going to put together an "escape" pack, which will contain minimal survival items. My new self-contained flashlight (not Fleshlight®) will be included. I may also include my Nova® Spirit electronic restraining device. As you know, I have a very bad feeling about the times ahead. Call it intuition.
At 10:41pm, the "existential vacuum" sucked me into its vortex. Oh, what to do ... what to do ...
Well, even though I was extremely "thirsty" last night, I did not break out the "emergency" brewskis. I departed for town at the usual time this morning. I ended up in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. At 10am, I rode the bus to Kahala Mall to meet moms. Since this was election day, the buses were on the holiday schedule. Moms was a little late. I managed to drop off more stuff at the Goodwill drop box. Moms and I ate lunch at Pearl's Korean Barbeque. Lunch was delicious. I had a chance to chat with moms for a while, although moms ended up missing the bus to Hawai'i Kai. We had forgotten about the holiday bus schedule. Moms walked across the street to the Route 58 bus stop. I had to wait at a different bus stop for the bus to town.
I did my usual workout at the gym. The hottie gym trainer was there, but she sat in the training office the whole time. After a nice workout and a warm shower, I returned to the faculty computer room for the rest of the afternoon. The hottie pseudo-professor stopped in for a few minutes. We chatted briefly. Baby is a real hottie. Whew! I will be leaving for Waikiki at 7pm.
Behind the scenes, I've been negotiating to obtain a few classes to facilitate at the Diploma Mill next year. I am not sure why I am attempting to maintain my enslavement to the "system." Since I have aborted the ill-fated Journey of the Mind, I am left with only one other preoccupation. Survival.
Monday, November 06, 2006
Enlightenment
The bus ride back to Waikiki yesterday afternoon was made more interesting by a clown who boarded the bus and sat on the adjacent seat to the one I was sitting on. He reeked of a cheesy breath freshening spray. At first, I thought that it was embalming fluid. At about a foot away from the fool, it was as if I had sprayed myself in the face with that crap. I was about ready to gag several times. I wondered if perhaps he drank a whole bottle of mouthwash to get some kind of high. Later, I detected a trace odor of cheap booze. Homeboy was trying to mask the smell. He probably sprayed that crap on his clothes, too.
I was not hungry because of the delicious, albeit expensive, treats that I ate at Taco Bell®. I spent some time composing the "blog" on my Palm® TX to send later by e-mail. I warmed up a can of Safeway® ravioli and ate it with a few slices of Safeway® bread. After dinner, I carefully washed my disposable plastic microwave trays. Most satanic gargoyles throw out these containers once they have consumed the food that comes in them. These containers must last me as long as I reside in this dump. I live in abject poverty, my friends.
Incidentally, the weather has been extremely hot, especially at night. The humidity has been unbearable. I have had to run the air-conditioner whenever I am in my little shoebox, although it barely does much more than waste electricity. I must wash my gym clothes by hand every night, since I only have one set of gym clothes. The humidity keeps the clothes from drying.
I was fatigued, but I departed on the bus for Waikiki Beach anyway at 8:15pm. When I arrived at Lou's Kabuki Theater, I was surprised to find the place overrun by satanic gargoyles all sporting their most hideous kabuki masks. Only the local homeless babe (term used loosely) was there. She was passed out on one of the benches. A group of locals were smoking the "chronic" (read: pakalolo) at one of the tables. I moved between two different benches during my visit.
Two Japanese hotties sat at one of the tables under the pavilion structure. They ate their fast food dinner, and ended up sitting there. The amputee with the wheelchair arrived at 9:15pm. He passed out at one of the tables. Since there was no theatrical performance, I decided to leave at 9:40pm. The Japanese hotties were still sitting there.
Once I returned to my little shoebox, I closed the door to the outside world and essentially went into lockdown in my prison cell. Symbolic, isn't? I'll be perfectly honest. I run my life like a ship. I'm the ship's captain. However, the ship has found itself in uncharted waters. A storm has developed and is growing stronger. The ship is being tossed and turned in the wild currents. The ship's navigation system is intermittent but operational. The ship is 52 years old and is suffering minor structural damage. If the magnitude of the storm increases, the ship's structural integrity will be compromised. As the ship's captain, I have ordered "general quarters" in preparation to launch the lifeboats. And that's where we stand.
My decisions and the circumstances that surround those decisions are included in the "blog" because the latter is the Captain's Log. We have already entered the Countdown to the Meltdown, the big storm. This is not the time for a mutiny. I perused the lone chawan for the longest time. No matter what happens, I will protect the lone chawan. With that, I called it a night.
I departed for town this morning at 8:10am. The bus was extremely crowded by the time it arrived in town. I ended up at the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill to begin my day of wage slavery. During my wage slave break, I walked to Safeway® to purchase a loaf of bread, a couple of energy bars, and lard-filled treats for lunch. The rest of the day was uneventful. I did my usual workout at the gym. The hottie gym trainer was there, but she apparently had no clients today. I spent the rest of the mostly uneventful afternoon in the faculty computer room. I'll be leaving for Waikiki on the bus at 7pm. No telling what I will do this evening.
At one time, I genuinely thought that it was possible for humans to approach perfect thought. Obviously, we are imperfect mortal humans, so we could never attain a perfect state of mind. Approaching perfection was still possible, that is, until I realized that perfect thought could only be accomplished in the spiritual realm. I am alluding to spirit creatures. Deities, if you will. Human thought processes are severely limited. We can only postulate our ideas based upon the physical and tangible universe that we live in. Yet, even with our most advanced instruments, we still have no idea what is beyond our line of sight.
That is one of the reasons why many satanic gargoyles have rejected the idea of an omnipotent deity who has existed forever. We, ourselves, do not know what "forever" means. In our own physical existence, we know that there is no such a concept as "forever." The scope our limitations became painfully obvious when the intellectual discourse on the gender of the Almighty came into question. How can a spirit life force have a gender?
We humans lack the humility to understand much more than what was given to us on this planet. We derived mostly all of the laws of the universe by what we observed here. There's nothing wrong with that. Laws are not universal unless they apply everywhere. In attempting to understand the spiritual realm, we are severely challenged by a lack of information. We are unable to collect such data because we do not co-exist in that realm. I am deliberately avoiding the use of the term, "dimension," because it tends to conjure up "Star Trek" type of definitions.
We are unable to conceptualize the framework to think beyond our confined tertiary planar system. Nor can we understand anything outside a finite time frame. For example, how can a perfect and omnipotent deity exist "from time indefinite to time indefinite"? How can the deity be the sole creator, the one from which everything else was created? We cannot answer those questions because we don't know. Nothing fits our own physical world model and observations. However, crafty humans have discarded the original thesis on that basis and, therefore, have denied the possibility of the existence of such a deity. In essence, these are the same humans who have had to then seek knowledge from any source, dubious or not, in order to substantiate the bogus "proof" that no such a deity could exist. These humans had to turn to the Dark Side for knowledge.
We have no idea what "infinity" is. Yet, in the calculus, we assume that it does exists. Otherwise the proof of the theorems would have collapsed. Since we do not know what "infinity" really is, that is, infinite time, infinite distance, etc., then how could we possibly know whether infinity is measurable at all, or is even relevant beyond our own comprehension?
The Almighty existing for infinite time with no beginning, no birth, no end, no amorphous shape, makes no sense to us because we do not know anything beyond our physical systems. We know of time only because we live for a finite number of years. And, even then, time for us is measured relative to the sun. We know of no other types of living entities beyond what we see. We obviously cannot see spirit creatures unless we are under some kind of demonic possession, of which most of us discard as ludicrous.
My point is that we humans are limited in the scope of our thinking. No matter how "enlightened" that we think we are, we will be no closer to any knowledge on a higher plain. The countless number of gurus, monks, soothsayers, philosophers, false prophets, and intellectual scholars have all tried in vain to transcend themselves beyond their mortal limits to the spiritual realm. It's impossible mainly because of our mortality. If anything, they may have attained a state of severe psychosis or schizophrenia.
The true life force of humans is a spirit as well. However, this spirit will only remain alive when bound by a biological body and brain. It is a wondrous fusion but with severe limitations. Because our brain is composed of biological matter, the life force bound to it will have the same mortal limitations. Hence, we can never truly increase our knowledge beyond those boundaries. We do possess an interesting attribute called "imagination," which allows us to envision some unbounded possibilities, one of which I presented here. Even then, our imaginations are limited.
The sages of old, the monks, and those who have attempted to cast off the material world could only do so to a point. Even in a mendicant state, they would need clothes, food, and shelter. They are still susceptible to pain, anxiety, fear, joy, anger, and all of the other human emotions and temperaments, many of which are intimately tied to our physical bodies. True enlightenment will require a complete separation from our physical bodies including our memories of life on this planet. Otherwise, the experience will be tainted. It is impossible for humans to achieve the perfect spiritual state. Therefore, the venture is a fruitless one. The candidate of enlightenment will either eventually go insane, become disillusioned and abandon the idea, or advance to be a greater disciple of El Diablo.
I was not hungry because of the delicious, albeit expensive, treats that I ate at Taco Bell®. I spent some time composing the "blog" on my Palm® TX to send later by e-mail. I warmed up a can of Safeway® ravioli and ate it with a few slices of Safeway® bread. After dinner, I carefully washed my disposable plastic microwave trays. Most satanic gargoyles throw out these containers once they have consumed the food that comes in them. These containers must last me as long as I reside in this dump. I live in abject poverty, my friends.
Incidentally, the weather has been extremely hot, especially at night. The humidity has been unbearable. I have had to run the air-conditioner whenever I am in my little shoebox, although it barely does much more than waste electricity. I must wash my gym clothes by hand every night, since I only have one set of gym clothes. The humidity keeps the clothes from drying.
I was fatigued, but I departed on the bus for Waikiki Beach anyway at 8:15pm. When I arrived at Lou's Kabuki Theater, I was surprised to find the place overrun by satanic gargoyles all sporting their most hideous kabuki masks. Only the local homeless babe (term used loosely) was there. She was passed out on one of the benches. A group of locals were smoking the "chronic" (read: pakalolo) at one of the tables. I moved between two different benches during my visit.
Two Japanese hotties sat at one of the tables under the pavilion structure. They ate their fast food dinner, and ended up sitting there. The amputee with the wheelchair arrived at 9:15pm. He passed out at one of the tables. Since there was no theatrical performance, I decided to leave at 9:40pm. The Japanese hotties were still sitting there.
Once I returned to my little shoebox, I closed the door to the outside world and essentially went into lockdown in my prison cell. Symbolic, isn't? I'll be perfectly honest. I run my life like a ship. I'm the ship's captain. However, the ship has found itself in uncharted waters. A storm has developed and is growing stronger. The ship is being tossed and turned in the wild currents. The ship's navigation system is intermittent but operational. The ship is 52 years old and is suffering minor structural damage. If the magnitude of the storm increases, the ship's structural integrity will be compromised. As the ship's captain, I have ordered "general quarters" in preparation to launch the lifeboats. And that's where we stand.
My decisions and the circumstances that surround those decisions are included in the "blog" because the latter is the Captain's Log. We have already entered the Countdown to the Meltdown, the big storm. This is not the time for a mutiny. I perused the lone chawan for the longest time. No matter what happens, I will protect the lone chawan. With that, I called it a night.
I departed for town this morning at 8:10am. The bus was extremely crowded by the time it arrived in town. I ended up at the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill to begin my day of wage slavery. During my wage slave break, I walked to Safeway® to purchase a loaf of bread, a couple of energy bars, and lard-filled treats for lunch. The rest of the day was uneventful. I did my usual workout at the gym. The hottie gym trainer was there, but she apparently had no clients today. I spent the rest of the mostly uneventful afternoon in the faculty computer room. I'll be leaving for Waikiki on the bus at 7pm. No telling what I will do this evening.
At one time, I genuinely thought that it was possible for humans to approach perfect thought. Obviously, we are imperfect mortal humans, so we could never attain a perfect state of mind. Approaching perfection was still possible, that is, until I realized that perfect thought could only be accomplished in the spiritual realm. I am alluding to spirit creatures. Deities, if you will. Human thought processes are severely limited. We can only postulate our ideas based upon the physical and tangible universe that we live in. Yet, even with our most advanced instruments, we still have no idea what is beyond our line of sight.
That is one of the reasons why many satanic gargoyles have rejected the idea of an omnipotent deity who has existed forever. We, ourselves, do not know what "forever" means. In our own physical existence, we know that there is no such a concept as "forever." The scope our limitations became painfully obvious when the intellectual discourse on the gender of the Almighty came into question. How can a spirit life force have a gender?
We humans lack the humility to understand much more than what was given to us on this planet. We derived mostly all of the laws of the universe by what we observed here. There's nothing wrong with that. Laws are not universal unless they apply everywhere. In attempting to understand the spiritual realm, we are severely challenged by a lack of information. We are unable to collect such data because we do not co-exist in that realm. I am deliberately avoiding the use of the term, "dimension," because it tends to conjure up "Star Trek" type of definitions.
We are unable to conceptualize the framework to think beyond our confined tertiary planar system. Nor can we understand anything outside a finite time frame. For example, how can a perfect and omnipotent deity exist "from time indefinite to time indefinite"? How can the deity be the sole creator, the one from which everything else was created? We cannot answer those questions because we don't know. Nothing fits our own physical world model and observations. However, crafty humans have discarded the original thesis on that basis and, therefore, have denied the possibility of the existence of such a deity. In essence, these are the same humans who have had to then seek knowledge from any source, dubious or not, in order to substantiate the bogus "proof" that no such a deity could exist. These humans had to turn to the Dark Side for knowledge.
We have no idea what "infinity" is. Yet, in the calculus, we assume that it does exists. Otherwise the proof of the theorems would have collapsed. Since we do not know what "infinity" really is, that is, infinite time, infinite distance, etc., then how could we possibly know whether infinity is measurable at all, or is even relevant beyond our own comprehension?
The Almighty existing for infinite time with no beginning, no birth, no end, no amorphous shape, makes no sense to us because we do not know anything beyond our physical systems. We know of time only because we live for a finite number of years. And, even then, time for us is measured relative to the sun. We know of no other types of living entities beyond what we see. We obviously cannot see spirit creatures unless we are under some kind of demonic possession, of which most of us discard as ludicrous.
My point is that we humans are limited in the scope of our thinking. No matter how "enlightened" that we think we are, we will be no closer to any knowledge on a higher plain. The countless number of gurus, monks, soothsayers, philosophers, false prophets, and intellectual scholars have all tried in vain to transcend themselves beyond their mortal limits to the spiritual realm. It's impossible mainly because of our mortality. If anything, they may have attained a state of severe psychosis or schizophrenia.
The true life force of humans is a spirit as well. However, this spirit will only remain alive when bound by a biological body and brain. It is a wondrous fusion but with severe limitations. Because our brain is composed of biological matter, the life force bound to it will have the same mortal limitations. Hence, we can never truly increase our knowledge beyond those boundaries. We do possess an interesting attribute called "imagination," which allows us to envision some unbounded possibilities, one of which I presented here. Even then, our imaginations are limited.
The sages of old, the monks, and those who have attempted to cast off the material world could only do so to a point. Even in a mendicant state, they would need clothes, food, and shelter. They are still susceptible to pain, anxiety, fear, joy, anger, and all of the other human emotions and temperaments, many of which are intimately tied to our physical bodies. True enlightenment will require a complete separation from our physical bodies including our memories of life on this planet. Otherwise, the experience will be tainted. It is impossible for humans to achieve the perfect spiritual state. Therefore, the venture is a fruitless one. The candidate of enlightenment will either eventually go insane, become disillusioned and abandon the idea, or advance to be a greater disciple of El Diablo.
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