Another evening at Barnes & Noble®. The hottie "bookseller" was on duty. Baby was looking mighty fine. I can no longer stand to spend an extended amount of time in my prison cell (read: little shoebox). I feel as though I am going insane during lockdown. The hottie "bookseller" was in one of my dreams last night, which is probably why I woke up fatigued this morning.
I drove to Kahala Mall at 9am after retrieving my truck from the Waikiki Banyan parking structure. I dropped off the last few hurdy-gurdy DVDs in the Goodwill drop box. I am certain that someone will appreciate the remnants of the now-defunct vast hurdy-gurdy DVD library. I purchased a large cup of coffee in the Barnes & Noble® Café to jumpstart my sluggishness. I met moms at 10:45am at the entrance to the mall. Moms and I ate lunch at Pearl's Korean Barbeque. There was even more food than usual. I was stuffed. Moms and I then drove back to Hawai'i Kai. Moms served up some coffee ice cream for dessert. We chatted for a while. Then, I was on my way to commence my mundane routine in town (i.e., gym, faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill, Net radio, and so forth). You know the drill.
Debbie, my realtor, replied to my e-mail. She said that she only receives a few hundred dollars at the end of year from her "condotel" unit. I assume that the original figure of $1,022 per month given in the original listing was somewhat accurate. Sadly, as gung-ho as I made myself to appear about moving out, I really do not want to search for another place. I will have to play phone tag and assorted other games with the landlords and whomever else. Becoming a homeless "camper" is beginning to look attractive. Well, that is the conundrum, isn't it?
Petrol prices in Hawai'i have risen again with the low octane running at $3.30 per gallon on average. I can only offer anecdotal evidence that local firms are applying various cost-cutting measures. I've seen quite a bit of this at Quagmire Prison (read: hotel) and at the gym. I believe that unemployment is rising as a result of layoffs (read: "horizontal integration"). When new fuel surcharges take place, there will be an increase in shipping costs again. Prices will rise. Utility rates will also rise. I am banking on airline rates eventually rising above the artificial floor created by the government bailout of the airline industry. Hotel and lodging rates will have to go up since all services that could be cut have already been eliminated. Construction is still booming. However, a slowdown in private construction may be occurring because there has been a tremendous increase in public projects (e.g., tearing up perfectly good sidewalks and reconstructing them). In the tourism demographic, the mainland middle class gabacho1 is still the bread-and-butter of the industry. Unless a shift can be made to bring in more Japanese and Chinese tourists, there could be a shortfall of visitors.
Of course, what do I know? I am a nobody. In fact, I realized that I am always at the fringe of society. A good example is my choice of the Palm® TX. Palm® is not going to survive, mostly because of its consistently poor business decisions. Most PDAs and "smartphones" are using Microsoft® Windows Mobile® and not because it is so much better. Once again, I picked the loser. With that, I should always know that I am a contrarian. My ideas are not necessarily flawed, but they always go against the so-called "mainstream."
1Gabacho, a fat slob White Supremacist satanic gargoyle.
Monday, May 14, 2007
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Burnham Parallel
I ran into Professor Brian and Cathrin at Barnes & Noble® last night. I chatted with them for about 20 minutes. I provided a brief synopsis of my abrupt emancipation from wage slavery. Professor Cathrin mentioned that she did not particularly care for Kathy, the new Femi-Nazi chairbitch. I had to stop off at the Food Pantry on the way back to Quagmire prison (read: hotel). I purchased another half-gallon of milk, three bananas, and a pint of Dreyer's® Peanut Butter Cup ice cream. I had to purchase more milk because the half-gallon that I had previously purchased at the ABC Store had gone sour in three days. The rest of the evening was the same ol' shit.
The rain was coming down fairly hard in Waikiki this morning. Fortunately, it let up just as I was ready to leave for town. My routine for the day was same as detailed in the literary subgenius in the April 28th "blog" titled, "Who Knew?" There were a few deviations, mind you. I attempted to purchase a cup of fresh brewed coffee and some air-filled energy bars at Safeway®, but the aforementioned items were completely depleted. That, after I had to walk all the way there in the rain, all the while slipping and sliding on the extremely slippery surfaces thanks to my dilapidated slippers (read: slippahs). I had to slip and slide my way in the rain to Mickey Dee's® to purchase a large cup of coffee. Then, I slipped and slid my way to the desolate Kukui Plaza mall. I sat and drank my coffee while the rain subsided. Mike, the director of the office that oversees the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill, and his partner, Jerry, happened to walk through the mall just before noon. They were on their way to the faculty computer room and invited me along. So, I was able to spend time on the computer in solitude until I had to leave for the gym. I was also able to listen to DI.FM Deep House on Net radio. I felt much better.
I did my usual cardio workout at the gym. Only as I was leaving did I espy the hottie gym trainer. Baby was on the phone, possible chatting with stud. Baby was looking hot. My mind started playing tricks on me. As I was walking back to the Diploma Mill, I heard someone call out my name. Turned out to be Pseudo-professor Raphael. He was just driving into the Executive Center parking structure. He stopped his car in the driveway. We chatted for a few minutes. I noticed that he was a wearing a security guard uniform. Apparently, he is on the fringe of employment at the Diploma Mill. Naturally, I asked if there were any security guard openings. Could a "Lester Burnham1" parallel be coming up soon? A stop at Taco Bell® yielded a fine meal of two Cheesy Bean and Rice Burritos. As you can guess, I spent the rest of the afternoon in the student computer lab.
I have been in continuous deliberation with myself about my tentative decision to move out of the "condotel" unit and placing it in the hotel rental pool. I keep waffling back and forth about the idea, whether the decision would be wise or completely foolish. I will have to pay $250 to put the "condotel" unit back in the hotel pool. According to some old paperwork, I would receive a guarantee of $815 per month income, of which I must deduct a little over seven percent each month for taxes and a dubious "repair fee." That leaves me with $758 and some change. My mortgage and maintenance fee are now running $1,220 per month, which means that I would have to make up $468 per month difference out of my own pocket. There is also a residual amount distributed at the end of the year for anything generated over the guaranteed income, but I have not been able to obtain any information so far.
To break even, I would have to find a shared rental situation that goes for $750 per month or less. If the shared rental has some kind of parking included, then I will also save an additional $100 per month that I am currently shelling out for a space in the Waikiki Banyan parking structure. Will I be better off? That's a good question. Instead of living alone, I will be sharing a living space. Is that workable?
My rationale for putting the "condotel" unit back in the hotel rental pool may be flawed. I am looking at a crude method of asset preservation, sad to say. I want to insure that there is a revenue stream, albeit insufficient, to prevent any chance of going into default. If necessary, I will voluntarily become homeless in order to maintain the amount that I must contribute out-of-pocket. I would maintain this policy until the unit is sold. Overall, I maintain a policy of capital preservation. I am working off of savings and investment instruments. My goal is to live off of the proceeds, nothing more. As the cost of living in Hawai'i is increasing at 18 percent per year, by my rough estimate, I will never be able to keep up the charade.
I received e-mail from Caroll. She finally received the money that she was owed by her last employer. So, she was able to secure her apartment. Caroll invited me to visit if and when I decide to bail out of the hopeless situation in Hawai'i. I hope that she will stay on-track this time and not fall into financial problems. I also received a lengthy e-mail from Mr. Ray in Washington. I am always glad to hear from my virtual homeys as well. By the way, did you remember moms today? I hope so. Happy Moms Day!
1Lester Burnham, main character from the film, "American Beauty."
The rain was coming down fairly hard in Waikiki this morning. Fortunately, it let up just as I was ready to leave for town. My routine for the day was same as detailed in the literary subgenius in the April 28th "blog" titled, "Who Knew?" There were a few deviations, mind you. I attempted to purchase a cup of fresh brewed coffee and some air-filled energy bars at Safeway®, but the aforementioned items were completely depleted. That, after I had to walk all the way there in the rain, all the while slipping and sliding on the extremely slippery surfaces thanks to my dilapidated slippers (read: slippahs). I had to slip and slide my way in the rain to Mickey Dee's® to purchase a large cup of coffee. Then, I slipped and slid my way to the desolate Kukui Plaza mall. I sat and drank my coffee while the rain subsided. Mike, the director of the office that oversees the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill, and his partner, Jerry, happened to walk through the mall just before noon. They were on their way to the faculty computer room and invited me along. So, I was able to spend time on the computer in solitude until I had to leave for the gym. I was also able to listen to DI.FM Deep House on Net radio. I felt much better.
I did my usual cardio workout at the gym. Only as I was leaving did I espy the hottie gym trainer. Baby was on the phone, possible chatting with stud. Baby was looking hot. My mind started playing tricks on me. As I was walking back to the Diploma Mill, I heard someone call out my name. Turned out to be Pseudo-professor Raphael. He was just driving into the Executive Center parking structure. He stopped his car in the driveway. We chatted for a few minutes. I noticed that he was a wearing a security guard uniform. Apparently, he is on the fringe of employment at the Diploma Mill. Naturally, I asked if there were any security guard openings. Could a "Lester Burnham1" parallel be coming up soon? A stop at Taco Bell® yielded a fine meal of two Cheesy Bean and Rice Burritos. As you can guess, I spent the rest of the afternoon in the student computer lab.
I have been in continuous deliberation with myself about my tentative decision to move out of the "condotel" unit and placing it in the hotel rental pool. I keep waffling back and forth about the idea, whether the decision would be wise or completely foolish. I will have to pay $250 to put the "condotel" unit back in the hotel pool. According to some old paperwork, I would receive a guarantee of $815 per month income, of which I must deduct a little over seven percent each month for taxes and a dubious "repair fee." That leaves me with $758 and some change. My mortgage and maintenance fee are now running $1,220 per month, which means that I would have to make up $468 per month difference out of my own pocket. There is also a residual amount distributed at the end of the year for anything generated over the guaranteed income, but I have not been able to obtain any information so far.
To break even, I would have to find a shared rental situation that goes for $750 per month or less. If the shared rental has some kind of parking included, then I will also save an additional $100 per month that I am currently shelling out for a space in the Waikiki Banyan parking structure. Will I be better off? That's a good question. Instead of living alone, I will be sharing a living space. Is that workable?
My rationale for putting the "condotel" unit back in the hotel rental pool may be flawed. I am looking at a crude method of asset preservation, sad to say. I want to insure that there is a revenue stream, albeit insufficient, to prevent any chance of going into default. If necessary, I will voluntarily become homeless in order to maintain the amount that I must contribute out-of-pocket. I would maintain this policy until the unit is sold. Overall, I maintain a policy of capital preservation. I am working off of savings and investment instruments. My goal is to live off of the proceeds, nothing more. As the cost of living in Hawai'i is increasing at 18 percent per year, by my rough estimate, I will never be able to keep up the charade.
I received e-mail from Caroll. She finally received the money that she was owed by her last employer. So, she was able to secure her apartment. Caroll invited me to visit if and when I decide to bail out of the hopeless situation in Hawai'i. I hope that she will stay on-track this time and not fall into financial problems. I also received a lengthy e-mail from Mr. Ray in Washington. I am always glad to hear from my virtual homeys as well. By the way, did you remember moms today? I hope so. Happy Moms Day!
1Lester Burnham, main character from the film, "American Beauty."
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Face of Stone (Reprise)
Once again, I spent the evening at Barnes & Noble®. The hottie "bookseller" was on duty. I perused a few books, but nothing noteworthy. I was just happy to be out on furlough. I left just before the store closed at 11pm. The prison transport (read: bus) that was heading back to Waikiki was packed with gabachos1, so I waited 20 minutes for the next one. I was tempted to purchase at least one big-ass can of cheap cerveza to celebrate my emancipation from wage slavery, but thought better of the idea. Incidentally, I dropped off the last three hurdy-gurdy DVDs, the remnants of my now-defunct vast hurdy-gurdy DVD library, in my truck to put in the queue for donation next week.
While I waited at the prison transport stop (read: bus stop) at Ala Moana Center, I observed that it was getting more crowded as time ticked on. Then, I realized that the concrete benches at the prison transport stop are used as beds by the homeless population at night. Frankly, I would like to see the entire homeless population camping everywhere as conspicuously as possible. They are already proliferating in Waikiki, which is good if the homeless epidemic adversely affects tourism.
I was back in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill by 9:30am this morning after a horrendous journey on a crowded prison transport. I cleaned out my faculty mailbox. Then, I spent the rest of the day composing the "blog," reading the alternative news, and listening to DI.FM Deep House on Net radio. My only breaks were my morning jaunt to Safeway® and my workout at the gym.
Debbie, my realtor, has been trying to negotiate a better deal for my "condotel" unit, but her efforts are not panning out. The pendejos2 at Aqua Resorts have been cutting costs at the expense of the idiotic gabacho tourists who are stupid enough to stay at any of its "boutique" hotels. With the shitty rental pool deal, I will end up possibly paying $500 per month in order to meet the mortgage and maintenance fee (which have both gone up this month) if and when I move out of the dump.
I am sure that Anonder would laugh his ass off if he was still reading the "blog." He would say, "I told you so." Well, yes and no. I did what I thought was workable at the time given the limited financial resources that were available to me. I do not have the large sum of money that Anonder possesses, so I do not have many options. Renting is not an ideal alternative for me, especially a shared rental situation. Yet, renting a room or becoming homeless are all that I have available. I was also not able to accurately predict my sudden emancipation from wage slavery and other variables. The lesson learned from all of this is simple - there are certainties anymore. Anything can change at a moment's notice or in the wink of an eye. Long term obligations should be avoided. Only the elite class have any kind of security. I now see long-term obligations as another form of enslavement. Once I understood the implications of my emancipation from wage slavery, then I came to understand the true meaning of freedom. The bottom line? There can be no freedom unless one if totally free from enslavement or imprisonment.
Why don't I just stay in the "condotel"? My opinion of the shitty "condotel" unit really changed after the earthquake that hit the islands a few months ago. I realized that I was living in a tomb (read: mausoleum). I also foolishly did not anticipate that the cost of living in Hawai'i was going to skyrocket at the rate of six percent every four months. And, it's going to get worse. The "straw that broke the camel's back" was the need to purchase the useless Brookstone® Tranquil Moments® "sound therapy placebo" in order to get some sleep. In addition, I finally came to grips with the fact that I am only remaining in Hawai'i for as long as moms is around. I have lost any other inclination to stay here. Tourism and overdevelopment have ruined the islands. The complete faith that has been placed in tourism only enslaved the local population in low wage peon jobs, with the majority of locals working two or three jobs. When the so-called "housing bubble" finally bursts, it will adversely affect the local economy (including the ol' lavahead). The majority of tourists are still middle class gabachos from the mainland. Once these fools have used up the equity that they had extracted from their homes, they will no longer be able to splurge on travel junkets. I am also banking on increased petrol prices to curb the number of visitors to Hawai'i. I would love to see tourism crash and burn.
As a side note, the divestiture of my useless possessions has met with the roadblock of "sentimentality." I can't even seem to bring myself to terminate my unused American Express® card. I have yet to shut down the message boards or one of the LoserNet® mirror sites. Look how long it has taken me to decide to divest the last three hurdy-gurdy DVDs. The face of stone is ready to crack. Sheesh!
1Gabacho, a fat slob White Supremacist satanic gargoyle. 2Pendejo, area in and around the Vienna Sausage Zone.
While I waited at the prison transport stop (read: bus stop) at Ala Moana Center, I observed that it was getting more crowded as time ticked on. Then, I realized that the concrete benches at the prison transport stop are used as beds by the homeless population at night. Frankly, I would like to see the entire homeless population camping everywhere as conspicuously as possible. They are already proliferating in Waikiki, which is good if the homeless epidemic adversely affects tourism.
I was back in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill by 9:30am this morning after a horrendous journey on a crowded prison transport. I cleaned out my faculty mailbox. Then, I spent the rest of the day composing the "blog," reading the alternative news, and listening to DI.FM Deep House on Net radio. My only breaks were my morning jaunt to Safeway® and my workout at the gym.
Debbie, my realtor, has been trying to negotiate a better deal for my "condotel" unit, but her efforts are not panning out. The pendejos2 at Aqua Resorts have been cutting costs at the expense of the idiotic gabacho tourists who are stupid enough to stay at any of its "boutique" hotels. With the shitty rental pool deal, I will end up possibly paying $500 per month in order to meet the mortgage and maintenance fee (which have both gone up this month) if and when I move out of the dump.
I am sure that Anonder would laugh his ass off if he was still reading the "blog." He would say, "I told you so." Well, yes and no. I did what I thought was workable at the time given the limited financial resources that were available to me. I do not have the large sum of money that Anonder possesses, so I do not have many options. Renting is not an ideal alternative for me, especially a shared rental situation. Yet, renting a room or becoming homeless are all that I have available. I was also not able to accurately predict my sudden emancipation from wage slavery and other variables. The lesson learned from all of this is simple - there are certainties anymore. Anything can change at a moment's notice or in the wink of an eye. Long term obligations should be avoided. Only the elite class have any kind of security. I now see long-term obligations as another form of enslavement. Once I understood the implications of my emancipation from wage slavery, then I came to understand the true meaning of freedom. The bottom line? There can be no freedom unless one if totally free from enslavement or imprisonment.
Why don't I just stay in the "condotel"? My opinion of the shitty "condotel" unit really changed after the earthquake that hit the islands a few months ago. I realized that I was living in a tomb (read: mausoleum). I also foolishly did not anticipate that the cost of living in Hawai'i was going to skyrocket at the rate of six percent every four months. And, it's going to get worse. The "straw that broke the camel's back" was the need to purchase the useless Brookstone® Tranquil Moments® "sound therapy placebo" in order to get some sleep. In addition, I finally came to grips with the fact that I am only remaining in Hawai'i for as long as moms is around. I have lost any other inclination to stay here. Tourism and overdevelopment have ruined the islands. The complete faith that has been placed in tourism only enslaved the local population in low wage peon jobs, with the majority of locals working two or three jobs. When the so-called "housing bubble" finally bursts, it will adversely affect the local economy (including the ol' lavahead). The majority of tourists are still middle class gabachos from the mainland. Once these fools have used up the equity that they had extracted from their homes, they will no longer be able to splurge on travel junkets. I am also banking on increased petrol prices to curb the number of visitors to Hawai'i. I would love to see tourism crash and burn.
As a side note, the divestiture of my useless possessions has met with the roadblock of "sentimentality." I can't even seem to bring myself to terminate my unused American Express® card. I have yet to shut down the message boards or one of the LoserNet® mirror sites. Look how long it has taken me to decide to divest the last three hurdy-gurdy DVDs. The face of stone is ready to crack. Sheesh!
1Gabacho, a fat slob White Supremacist satanic gargoyle. 2Pendejo, area in and around the Vienna Sausage Zone.
Friday, May 11, 2007
Emancipation - Un Dia Soleado
I took advantage of my furlough time last night at Barnes & Noble®. The hottie "bookseller" was on duty. Baby was looking mighty fine. Later, in the prison compound (read: hotel lobby), I read a few more pages from Robert Fisk's book, "The Great War for Civilization." The chapters dealing with Saudi Arabia actually are about the Iraq invasion of Kuwait and the first intervention by the "allied" forces. The House of Saud had allowed a non-Muslim nation to establish military bases on the land common with the two holiest Muslim sites, a major debauchery in the eyes of most Arabs. The Saudi bases were the launching point for the war on Iraq. I have learned a lot by reading Fisk's account. In fact, I now place as much credibility in Fisk's chronicle as I do in The New Yorker reporter Seymour Hersh's articles.
I departed for town at 8:30am this morning on the prison transport (read: bus). he streets in town were completely wet from the on-going rain. My crappy slippers (read: slippahs) have no traction, so I almost slipped and fell a number of times. I renewed my mailbox fee so I paid only $25 for six months. The rate will go up by $3 on Monday along with postage rates. By the way, the new "forever" stamp is a clever scheme to induce stamp harding. The Post Office will generate income upfront, similar to those ridiculous service agreements sold with cheap products made in China.
I was greeted by a fresh pot of free generic coffee in the faculty computer room at the urinal ... errr, Diploma Mill. Sandra, who works for the office that oversees the faculty computer room, told me that word has gotten around via the "rumor mill" about my termination. Who is spreading this shit?
I have had recurring intrusive thoughts about the hottie gym trainer since I saw baby yesterday looking El Diablo hot in her "civilian" clothes. Fighting with one's biology is grueling, even though I know that I could never have a babe like the hottie gym trainer. My mind knows that the babe situation has been over for a long time ago. I have to be eternally grateful that I am a wimpy loser. Had I been a stud and was able to attract a lot of hotties, I would have been in big trouble. I would have doin' da wild thing right and left. I would have gone hog wild, so to speak. Alas, I spent the morning listening to DI.FM Deep House on Net radio. Nothing like House Music to placate the soul.
I proctored my very last final exam, submitted grades, and discarded everything having to do with pseudo-professorship. Gym time was at 2:15pm. No hottie gym trainer. Boohoo. I spent the rest of the afternoon basking in my newfound freedom. I listened to DI.FM Deep House on Net radio. I felt relaxed, yet I knew my journey to freedom is not over. There's still a long way to go.
This was my last day of wage slavery. I am officially emancipated from the urinal ... errr, Diploma Mill. Official time of emancipation from wage slavery was 2pm May 11th. How does it feel? Same ol' shit. Nothing has changed. Was there any farewell celebration? Heck, no. In fact, I am now being shunned by the other pseudo-professors. Their biggest fear is that they will end up like me. Stupid gabachos1. Well, I have more important things to waste my thoughts on a bunch of pendejos2.
My first priority will be to decide whether to put the "condotel" unit back in the hotel rental pool. I am waiting for Debbie, my realtor, to obtain information about whether I can participate in the same group deal that she and a few other "condotel" unit owners currently have. I would like to be out of that dump by the end of the month. That's not much time. I will need to find alternative living arrangements soon.
As for the "blog," I will attempt to maintain daily updates for the time being. My exodus from society is not complete. The struggle continues. If I miss a few "blog" updates, so be it. I seriously doubt that there will be any deviation from my usual routine. Come, if you have a glass of cheap booze on hand. I only have a cup of water. Raise your glasses (or plastic cups), please, and let's make a toast, shall we? Here's to freedom!
1Gabacho, a fat slob White Supremacist satanic gargoyle.
2Pendejo, area in and around the Vienna Sausage Zone.
I departed for town at 8:30am this morning on the prison transport (read: bus). he streets in town were completely wet from the on-going rain. My crappy slippers (read: slippahs) have no traction, so I almost slipped and fell a number of times. I renewed my mailbox fee so I paid only $25 for six months. The rate will go up by $3 on Monday along with postage rates. By the way, the new "forever" stamp is a clever scheme to induce stamp harding. The Post Office will generate income upfront, similar to those ridiculous service agreements sold with cheap products made in China.
I was greeted by a fresh pot of free generic coffee in the faculty computer room at the urinal ... errr, Diploma Mill. Sandra, who works for the office that oversees the faculty computer room, told me that word has gotten around via the "rumor mill" about my termination. Who is spreading this shit?
I have had recurring intrusive thoughts about the hottie gym trainer since I saw baby yesterday looking El Diablo hot in her "civilian" clothes. Fighting with one's biology is grueling, even though I know that I could never have a babe like the hottie gym trainer. My mind knows that the babe situation has been over for a long time ago. I have to be eternally grateful that I am a wimpy loser. Had I been a stud and was able to attract a lot of hotties, I would have been in big trouble. I would have doin' da wild thing right and left. I would have gone hog wild, so to speak. Alas, I spent the morning listening to DI.FM Deep House on Net radio. Nothing like House Music to placate the soul.
I proctored my very last final exam, submitted grades, and discarded everything having to do with pseudo-professorship. Gym time was at 2:15pm. No hottie gym trainer. Boohoo. I spent the rest of the afternoon basking in my newfound freedom. I listened to DI.FM Deep House on Net radio. I felt relaxed, yet I knew my journey to freedom is not over. There's still a long way to go.
This was my last day of wage slavery. I am officially emancipated from the urinal ... errr, Diploma Mill. Official time of emancipation from wage slavery was 2pm May 11th. How does it feel? Same ol' shit. Nothing has changed. Was there any farewell celebration? Heck, no. In fact, I am now being shunned by the other pseudo-professors. Their biggest fear is that they will end up like me. Stupid gabachos1. Well, I have more important things to waste my thoughts on a bunch of pendejos2.
My first priority will be to decide whether to put the "condotel" unit back in the hotel rental pool. I am waiting for Debbie, my realtor, to obtain information about whether I can participate in the same group deal that she and a few other "condotel" unit owners currently have. I would like to be out of that dump by the end of the month. That's not much time. I will need to find alternative living arrangements soon.
As for the "blog," I will attempt to maintain daily updates for the time being. My exodus from society is not complete. The struggle continues. If I miss a few "blog" updates, so be it. I seriously doubt that there will be any deviation from my usual routine. Come, if you have a glass of cheap booze on hand. I only have a cup of water. Raise your glasses (or plastic cups), please, and let's make a toast, shall we? Here's to freedom!
1Gabacho, a fat slob White Supremacist satanic gargoyle.
2Pendejo, area in and around the Vienna Sausage Zone.
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Lawnchair Gabachos
As fatigued as I was, I made the trek to Barnes & Noble® in Ala Moana Center last night. The hottie "bookseller" was looking mighty fine. Whew! I perused a few books, but only one is worthy of mention:
My second to last day of wage slavery found me back in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill at 9am. I brewed a fresh pot of free generic coffee. I followed my usual routine as detailed in the literary subgenius in the "blog" of April 28th titled, "Who Knew?" I did my one-hour of wage slavery. I wore my board shorts and T-shirt, since I donated my wage slave duds (read: clothes) yesterday. I can taste the freedom.
I enjoyed a decent workout at the gym. On my out, I espied the hottie gym trainer. She was wearing her "civilian" clothes. I wasn't sure if she was just arriving or ready to leave. Baby is a real hottie. Oh man! I almost lost my mind. I am so thankful that I am a big-time loser. I won't have to worry about being "taken through the wringer" by any babe, especially one like the hottie gym trainer. All I have to worry about is my own survival.
I listened to DI.FM Deep House on Net radio in the faculty computer room for the rest of the afternoon. With the borrowed headphones, I was able shut out the idiotic faculty who will no longer be colleagues of mine after tomorrow. My eyes have been opened. I can now see the small "make-believe" world that these fools reside in. They are totally oblivious to the outside world, the world outside the micro-empire of their classrooms.
Earlier today, Pseudo-professor Jeff had asked me, "What are you going to do after this?" I replied that I was not returning to any form of pseudo-professorship. "When the money runs out, I'm going to become a homeless guy," I added. Once again, I was privy to hear how I am wasting my skills. Hogwash! I am expendable, and I'm on my way out of the "system." Pseudo-professor Jeff just conferred his doctorate last week, so he now must find a real tenure-track professorial position. I don't envy him.
The world is a big mess. I am beginning to wonder if the secular Apocalypse will simply be bypassed by Armageddon. The climate changes this year have been profound. Even here in Hawai'i, we have experienced abnormal weather conditions. So far, since I last reported, there have been only a handful of warm days and nights. For the most part, we have experienced a lot of rain and gusty winds, quite uncommon as the Summer months approach. The situation on the mainland is even worse. Tornadoes ravaged Kansas. Severe drought in Florida. Massive flooding in Missouri. A huge storm is approaching the Northeast again. And, with most of the National Guard units and equipment of the individual states redeployed to Iraq, recovery efforts have been hampered.
Then, there is the curious plight of the honeybee. As Mark Morford opined, "... odds are just incredibly good that our ultimate downfall will come from a much more innocuous, unspectacular source, some from seemingly tiny but absolutely critical natural system that we finally manipulated one too many times and nature just went." Read the full article titled, "Apocalypse Of The Honeybees," that appeared on the SF Gate site.
- "Ask a Mexican" - Gustavo Arellano
My second to last day of wage slavery found me back in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill at 9am. I brewed a fresh pot of free generic coffee. I followed my usual routine as detailed in the literary subgenius in the "blog" of April 28th titled, "Who Knew?" I did my one-hour of wage slavery. I wore my board shorts and T-shirt, since I donated my wage slave duds (read: clothes) yesterday. I can taste the freedom.
I enjoyed a decent workout at the gym. On my out, I espied the hottie gym trainer. She was wearing her "civilian" clothes. I wasn't sure if she was just arriving or ready to leave. Baby is a real hottie. Oh man! I almost lost my mind. I am so thankful that I am a big-time loser. I won't have to worry about being "taken through the wringer" by any babe, especially one like the hottie gym trainer. All I have to worry about is my own survival.
I listened to DI.FM Deep House on Net radio in the faculty computer room for the rest of the afternoon. With the borrowed headphones, I was able shut out the idiotic faculty who will no longer be colleagues of mine after tomorrow. My eyes have been opened. I can now see the small "make-believe" world that these fools reside in. They are totally oblivious to the outside world, the world outside the micro-empire of their classrooms.
Earlier today, Pseudo-professor Jeff had asked me, "What are you going to do after this?" I replied that I was not returning to any form of pseudo-professorship. "When the money runs out, I'm going to become a homeless guy," I added. Once again, I was privy to hear how I am wasting my skills. Hogwash! I am expendable, and I'm on my way out of the "system." Pseudo-professor Jeff just conferred his doctorate last week, so he now must find a real tenure-track professorial position. I don't envy him.
The world is a big mess. I am beginning to wonder if the secular Apocalypse will simply be bypassed by Armageddon. The climate changes this year have been profound. Even here in Hawai'i, we have experienced abnormal weather conditions. So far, since I last reported, there have been only a handful of warm days and nights. For the most part, we have experienced a lot of rain and gusty winds, quite uncommon as the Summer months approach. The situation on the mainland is even worse. Tornadoes ravaged Kansas. Severe drought in Florida. Massive flooding in Missouri. A huge storm is approaching the Northeast again. And, with most of the National Guard units and equipment of the individual states redeployed to Iraq, recovery efforts have been hampered.
Then, there is the curious plight of the honeybee. As Mark Morford opined, "... odds are just incredibly good that our ultimate downfall will come from a much more innocuous, unspectacular source, some from seemingly tiny but absolutely critical natural system that we finally manipulated one too many times and nature just went." Read the full article titled, "Apocalypse Of The Honeybees," that appeared on the SF Gate site.
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
Cry for Freedom
I spent most of last night in lockdown in prison cell (read: little shoebox), leaving once to purchase a half-gallon of generic skim milk for $3.45 and a package of nitrate-laced and lard-filled luncheon meat. I managed to view an episode of "House, MD." I was ready to lose it by 11pm, so I sat in the prison compound (read: hotel lobby) and read a few more pages from Robert Fisk's book, "The Great War for Civilization." I finished the intense chapters about Algeria. I have now commenced the chapter about Saudi Arabia.
This morning, I rode the prison transport to the Waikiki Banyan parking structure to retrieve my truck. I drove to Kahala Mall. I unceremoniously dropped off my former wage slave duds (read: clothes) in the Goodwill drop box. I felt an immediate surge of relief. Had I been more into cheesy theatrics, I would have laughed at the top of lungs, "Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaaa!" I purchased a big-ass cup of coffee at the Barnes & Noble® Café to celebrate. I sat on a bench in the periodicals section and perused a few surfing magazines. Then, I met moms by the entrance to the mall at 10:30am. Moms and I ate lunch at the Panda Express®. Lunch was delicious. Moms and I drove back to Hawai'i Kai afterward. Moms served up some coffee ice cream. Yum! Moms and I sat around and chatted until 12:45pm.
I drove back to Waikiki. I parked the truck and rode the prison transport (read: bus) to town. I was a little early, so I stopped in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. Pseudo-professor Mike happened to be sitting at one of the computers. We chatted until I had to leave for the gym. He alleged that he had heard about my termination from Professor Darwin. Oh, the games we play. Sheesh!
After an invigorating workout at the gym, I returned to the faculty computer room. I obtained a set of headphone from Pseudo-professor Francis so that I could listen to Net radio without being disturbed by idiots. Pseudo-professor Francis is also in charge of the audio-visual equipment, so he was able to find a spare set of headphones. Now, I will be able to sit at the computer and listen to my favorite House tunes. I will be in my own little world. Yeah!
I discovered another hot House Music channel on Net radio, Deep Inside Soulful House, netcasting out of the UK. I will be looking for more House Music channels, that is, as long as Net radio is around. Apparently, the Copyright Royalty Board (CRB) has extended the date that the new fees are effective to July 15th. What will I do without House Music on Net radio?
Incidentally, I was surprised to receive e-mail from Shirley. She is now working for a firm called Est8Planning in town. She wants to do lunch sometime. I'm sure that we will have a lot to discuss. Well, in two days, I will have more time than I know what to do with.
By 5:15pm, I felt quite despondent. I could not really isolate the problem. I believe that it is a culmination of so many things ... my isolated life, the limited time that I have to spend with moms, my own mortality, the injustices and unfairness everywhere across the planet, the general malaise of it all. I certainly did not want to return to my depressing prison cell. As my time in wage slavery winds down, I am becoming more desperate to attain true freedom. I can taste freedom, but I am still shackled. I want to scream. I want even more to get totally hammered on cheap booze. However, I have to get a grip on myself. Freedom will be here soon, I keep telling myself, but I will have to be patient. Oh, what will I do?
This morning, I rode the prison transport to the Waikiki Banyan parking structure to retrieve my truck. I drove to Kahala Mall. I unceremoniously dropped off my former wage slave duds (read: clothes) in the Goodwill drop box. I felt an immediate surge of relief. Had I been more into cheesy theatrics, I would have laughed at the top of lungs, "Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaaa!" I purchased a big-ass cup of coffee at the Barnes & Noble® Café to celebrate. I sat on a bench in the periodicals section and perused a few surfing magazines. Then, I met moms by the entrance to the mall at 10:30am. Moms and I ate lunch at the Panda Express®. Lunch was delicious. Moms and I drove back to Hawai'i Kai afterward. Moms served up some coffee ice cream. Yum! Moms and I sat around and chatted until 12:45pm.
I drove back to Waikiki. I parked the truck and rode the prison transport (read: bus) to town. I was a little early, so I stopped in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. Pseudo-professor Mike happened to be sitting at one of the computers. We chatted until I had to leave for the gym. He alleged that he had heard about my termination from Professor Darwin. Oh, the games we play. Sheesh!
After an invigorating workout at the gym, I returned to the faculty computer room. I obtained a set of headphone from Pseudo-professor Francis so that I could listen to Net radio without being disturbed by idiots. Pseudo-professor Francis is also in charge of the audio-visual equipment, so he was able to find a spare set of headphones. Now, I will be able to sit at the computer and listen to my favorite House tunes. I will be in my own little world. Yeah!
I discovered another hot House Music channel on Net radio, Deep Inside Soulful House, netcasting out of the UK. I will be looking for more House Music channels, that is, as long as Net radio is around. Apparently, the Copyright Royalty Board (CRB) has extended the date that the new fees are effective to July 15th. What will I do without House Music on Net radio?
Incidentally, I was surprised to receive e-mail from Shirley. She is now working for a firm called Est8Planning in town. She wants to do lunch sometime. I'm sure that we will have a lot to discuss. Well, in two days, I will have more time than I know what to do with.
By 5:15pm, I felt quite despondent. I could not really isolate the problem. I believe that it is a culmination of so many things ... my isolated life, the limited time that I have to spend with moms, my own mortality, the injustices and unfairness everywhere across the planet, the general malaise of it all. I certainly did not want to return to my depressing prison cell. As my time in wage slavery winds down, I am becoming more desperate to attain true freedom. I can taste freedom, but I am still shackled. I want to scream. I want even more to get totally hammered on cheap booze. However, I have to get a grip on myself. Freedom will be here soon, I keep telling myself, but I will have to be patient. Oh, what will I do?
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
Tofu Salad
Another evening was spent at Barnes & Noble®, my safe haven of choice. The hottie "bookseller" was on duty. I perused a few books, two of which may be of interest later:
On the way to town on the prison transport (read: bus) this morning, I observed that petrol prices are going up again. Low octane petrol is $3.25 per gallon on average. My morning jaunt to Safeway® was marred by my discovery of a completely depleted stock of non-amorphous, air-filled energy bars. For lunch, I had to purchase one lard-filled Tina's® burrito and about a pound of tofu salad at $4.99 per pound. Eating healthier is not cheap. Sheesh!
Debbie, my realtor, scheduled two showings of the "condotel" unit this week. So, far no takers. However, upon perusal of the HiCentral site, I noticed that various "condotel" units around Waikiki have been sold. I have also informed Debbie that I am going to actively seek a place to rent. The transition of the "condotel" unit back into the hotel rental pool should be smooth.
I spent all day in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill with the exception of my after noon workout at the gym. Lori sent e-mail. She mentioned that she found her journal parody archived at some obscure site. It was believed to be long lost into the ether world. I performed a search and located it at KimberleyNet. Strange things. All day, I was in an anxious state. I kept wondering how much longer I can maintain this mundane routine (as detailed in the literary subgenius in the April 28th "blog" titled, "Who Knew?"). Sooner or later, I will have to move on from the Diploma Mill. I do not really have the luxury of time to vacillate about my choices. My first priority is to divest the "condotel" unit. I want to return to a completely transient life-style. If I am forced to become homeless, so be it. I do not want to be burdened by any material possessions either, so I will continue to divest anything that is deemed useless.
- "The Bush Agenda: Invading the World, One Economy at a Time" - Antonia Juhasz
- "Chasing Ghosts: Failures and Facades in Iraq: A Soldier's Perspective" - Paul Riekhoff
On the way to town on the prison transport (read: bus) this morning, I observed that petrol prices are going up again. Low octane petrol is $3.25 per gallon on average. My morning jaunt to Safeway® was marred by my discovery of a completely depleted stock of non-amorphous, air-filled energy bars. For lunch, I had to purchase one lard-filled Tina's® burrito and about a pound of tofu salad at $4.99 per pound. Eating healthier is not cheap. Sheesh!
Debbie, my realtor, scheduled two showings of the "condotel" unit this week. So, far no takers. However, upon perusal of the HiCentral site, I noticed that various "condotel" units around Waikiki have been sold. I have also informed Debbie that I am going to actively seek a place to rent. The transition of the "condotel" unit back into the hotel rental pool should be smooth.
I spent all day in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill with the exception of my after noon workout at the gym. Lori sent e-mail. She mentioned that she found her journal parody archived at some obscure site. It was believed to be long lost into the ether world. I performed a search and located it at KimberleyNet. Strange things. All day, I was in an anxious state. I kept wondering how much longer I can maintain this mundane routine (as detailed in the literary subgenius in the April 28th "blog" titled, "Who Knew?"). Sooner or later, I will have to move on from the Diploma Mill. I do not really have the luxury of time to vacillate about my choices. My first priority is to divest the "condotel" unit. I want to return to a completely transient life-style. If I am forced to become homeless, so be it. I do not want to be burdened by any material possessions either, so I will continue to divest anything that is deemed useless.
Monday, May 07, 2007
Elephant in the Room
Last night, I took advantage of my furlough time by spending it wisely at Barnes & Noble®. Where else could I go? The hottie "bookseller" was there. Baby was looking mighty fine. I really was no in the mood to peruse any books. I just wanted to be someplace, any place, other than my detestable prison cell (read: little shoebox). I had to feign the perusal of a few books to blend in with the crowd.
I had to pay a visit to my truck in the Waikiki Banyan parking structure before I returned to Quagmire Prison (read: hotel). I retrieved the two shopping bags full of canned goods. Upon arrival in my prison cell, I immediately went into lockdown. Foolishly, I ended up viewing the flick, "Spanglish," on the tube. Oh man, Paz Vega is so hot! If the ol' lavahead ever found a babe like that, his life would literally end. He would become a fool for baby. He would be enslaved to da wild thing. He would give a whole new meaning to the term, "outer limits." Oh man, am I ever glad to be a big-time loser!
I had nothing to do for most of the day, that is, aside from piddling on the computer in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill and grinding through my daily workout at the gym. My last few hours of wage slavery will not transpire until the end of the week. I will be proctoring my final exams. Needless to say, I am still experiencing a high level of anxiety, mostly due to the uncertainty of my future. However, fretting about the latter will accomplish nothing. My fate is already sealed.
Time is moving relatively slowly for me these days. During my heyday as a wage slave, I recall time moving very rapidly. My life was flashing before my eyes. I was growing old very quickly. The next thing I knew, I was a member in good standing of the AARP®. Sheesh! Which is better? You be the judge. Idle time is especially boring for outcasts such as the ol' lavahead. Boredom (read: Viktor Frankl's "existential vacuum") is difficult to endure because we have been "socialized" to believe that "idle hands are the devil's playthings." Boredom also makes us keenly aware of how uncomfortable we are with ourselves. Introspection in this day and age is a difficult concept to grasp.
And, what of my disdain for wage slavery? Am I just a useless bum? Well, yes and no. I would have been perfectly fine with remaining semi-employed. However, the proliferation of asswipes, dickheads, morons, meatheads, and arrogant satanic gargoyles around me made wage slavery even more unbearable. I was constantly exposed to the cause and effect of the epidemic of the "seven sins." My thinking process was being affected. And, my greatest fear was that, gradually, I would become like them. Worst of all, to see the young minds of the students already completely infected by the ailments of society was disheartening. Ultimately, I can no longer be around the masses of satanic gargoyles and satanic gargoyles in-training. My time has come and gone.
By far, one of the most interesting articles focusing on the issue of overpopulation appeared on the Oil Drum forum titled, "Peak Oil, Carrying Capacity and Overshoot: Population, the Elephant in the Room." Author Paul Chefurka opined:
I have been waiting for the moneychangers and the powers-that-be (read: the pedigreed elite class) to invoke the secular Apocalypse in order to implement a large-scale, albeit genocidal, population control pogrom. However, I am now wondering whether excessive greed (i.e., the epidemic of the "seven sins") has consumed the elite class. Has the pursuit to control the world's wealth allowed the pedigreed elite class to insure their own destruction as well? We may be seeing clear evidence of the existence of true evil and the "Dark Side." Alas, a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, as the old adage goes. When will they ever learn?
I had to pay a visit to my truck in the Waikiki Banyan parking structure before I returned to Quagmire Prison (read: hotel). I retrieved the two shopping bags full of canned goods. Upon arrival in my prison cell, I immediately went into lockdown. Foolishly, I ended up viewing the flick, "Spanglish," on the tube. Oh man, Paz Vega is so hot! If the ol' lavahead ever found a babe like that, his life would literally end. He would become a fool for baby. He would be enslaved to da wild thing. He would give a whole new meaning to the term, "outer limits." Oh man, am I ever glad to be a big-time loser!
I had nothing to do for most of the day, that is, aside from piddling on the computer in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill and grinding through my daily workout at the gym. My last few hours of wage slavery will not transpire until the end of the week. I will be proctoring my final exams. Needless to say, I am still experiencing a high level of anxiety, mostly due to the uncertainty of my future. However, fretting about the latter will accomplish nothing. My fate is already sealed.
Time is moving relatively slowly for me these days. During my heyday as a wage slave, I recall time moving very rapidly. My life was flashing before my eyes. I was growing old very quickly. The next thing I knew, I was a member in good standing of the AARP®. Sheesh! Which is better? You be the judge. Idle time is especially boring for outcasts such as the ol' lavahead. Boredom (read: Viktor Frankl's "existential vacuum") is difficult to endure because we have been "socialized" to believe that "idle hands are the devil's playthings." Boredom also makes us keenly aware of how uncomfortable we are with ourselves. Introspection in this day and age is a difficult concept to grasp.
And, what of my disdain for wage slavery? Am I just a useless bum? Well, yes and no. I would have been perfectly fine with remaining semi-employed. However, the proliferation of asswipes, dickheads, morons, meatheads, and arrogant satanic gargoyles around me made wage slavery even more unbearable. I was constantly exposed to the cause and effect of the epidemic of the "seven sins." My thinking process was being affected. And, my greatest fear was that, gradually, I would become like them. Worst of all, to see the young minds of the students already completely infected by the ailments of society was disheartening. Ultimately, I can no longer be around the masses of satanic gargoyles and satanic gargoyles in-training. My time has come and gone.
By far, one of the most interesting articles focusing on the issue of overpopulation appeared on the Oil Drum forum titled, "Peak Oil, Carrying Capacity and Overshoot: Population, the Elephant in the Room." Author Paul Chefurka opined:
It is becoming clearer every day, as crises like global warming, water, soil and food depletion, biodiversity loss and the degradation of our oceans constantly worsen, that the human situation is not sustainable. Bringing about a sustainable balance between ourselves and the planet we depend on will require us, in very short order, to reduce our population, our level of activity, or both.Chefurka's dissertation is lengthy and summarizes the available data. Mind you, these are options that humanity faces. Options allow us to choose the proper course and direction. In his book titled, "Collapse: How Societies Choose to Fail or Succeed," author Jared Diamond postulated that societies make geopolitical and ecological decisions which ultimately determine whether they flourish, decline, or vanish. We are, perhaps, facing the same decisions that the Mayan and Rapa Nui civilizations had faced, only we are confronting a global dilemma.
I have been waiting for the moneychangers and the powers-that-be (read: the pedigreed elite class) to invoke the secular Apocalypse in order to implement a large-scale, albeit genocidal, population control pogrom. However, I am now wondering whether excessive greed (i.e., the epidemic of the "seven sins") has consumed the elite class. Has the pursuit to control the world's wealth allowed the pedigreed elite class to insure their own destruction as well? We may be seeing clear evidence of the existence of true evil and the "Dark Side." Alas, a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, as the old adage goes. When will they ever learn?
Sunday, May 06, 2007
Outer Limits
I was feeling really shitty by 4pm yesterday afternoon. I sat in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill and listened to DI.FM Deep House on Net radio. A couple of faculty members came in, both of whom I despise. Whenever I see the one old "biddy," I want to "deliver street pizza," if you know what I mean. I relocated to the student section and continued to listen to DI.FM Deep House with the provided headphones. If it wasn't for DI.FM, I would have probably lost it. I experienced acute anxiety interspersed with feelings of deep despair. I tried to compose the "blog," but I ended up typing nonsense. There were nothing but transpositional misspellings and quite a few undecipherable words. Something was wrong. I knew exactly what I was attempting to type, but nothing translated properly at my fingertips.
At times, I feel completely lost. This was one of those times. I felt totally alone, which obviously cannot be disputed. I am alone. I am a stranger in a strange land. I am a nobody in a huge mass of satanic gargoyles. I am surrounded by crowds of clowns. I reside in a mausoleum packed with the same kinds of clowns. Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right, ...
I could not take another evening of lockdown in my pathetic prison cell (read: little shoebox), so I made the jaunt to Barnes & Noble®. The hottie "bookseller" was looking mighty fine, by the way. I perused a few books, nothing in particular. I happened to note one interesting tidbit in Greg Palast's new book, "Armed Madhouse." Apparently, the peon class no longer need worry about being paid overtime after putting in more than a standard 40-hour week of wage slavery. The labor law concerning overtime compensation was quietly amended to remove the requirement, although the more savvy oppressors (read: employers) had previously devised a more clever scheme (i.e., "promote" rank-and-file wage slaves to "managers") to circumvent overtime compensation.
When I finally returned to Waikiki at 11:30pm, I immediately went into lockdown in my prison cell. I sat on the floor in the pathetic little prison bathroom and read a few more pages of Robert Fisk's book, "The Great War for Civilization." As I've stated before, the reading of the book is becoming much more difficult for me. Even Fisk expressed his disdain for the horrors of endless war. And, that's the greatest realization that a reader can come away with. There has been nothing but endless wars, regional or global, in the whole history of humanity. The gruesomeness of war increases proportionately with technology. With every account of war atrocities, I can only tell myself that I could have easily been born in the "wrong" place by happenstance. Yes, the faceless people, the "collateral damage," that I read about in Fisk's book could easily have been me. That is, of course, the real purpose of reading such a book. Unless we come to understand history and the root causes of conflict that repeat ad infinitum, then nothing will ever change. Unless we understand what other people in other lands are experiencing, we can never develop compassion or empathy. We cannot even come to appreciate our own good fortune.
Well, we live in a culture that provides the "freedom" to be ignorant and be damned proud of it. Dare I say, in this nation, freedom is ignorance, and ignorance is freedom. Ignorance and stupidity go hand-in-hand. Pondering which is the cause and which is the effect is moot. We are well beyond the "chicken and the egg" debate. Ignorance is also malignant form of hubris, which then gives rise to a depraved sense of arrogance. Ignorant First World fat slobs, although seemingly powerless in their respective societies and in comparison to the elite class, are actually quite dangerous because they wield vast powers of destruction in their fat little hands. Their huge eco-destructive footprints (by means of rampant materialism and waste) and their sycophantic politico-religious behavior have an extremely adverse impact on the planet as well as upon the less fortunate souls who populate the Second and Third World nations. Of course, complicity is the last thing to cross the mind of an ignorant First World fat slob.
This morning, I followed the usual mundane routine detailed through literary subgenius in the "blog" of April 28th titled, "Who Knew?" I attempted to purchase a cup of coffee at Mickey Dee's® but was thwarted by a herd of extremely stupid cattle. In actuality, the cattle are semi-comatose satanic gargoyles. The constant diet of shitty food served by dumps like Mickey Dee's® only serve to fatten the already obese physique and further lobotomize the already "infantilzed" mind. Hence, the cattle-like behavior. I vowed to never return to the dump. Thus, the mundane routine of the April 28th "blog" must be revised to reflect the latter decision. I walked to Safeway® and purchased a small cup of coffee and two non-amorphous, air-filled energy bars. I wanted a larger cup of coffee, but the large cups were unavailable. I looked to see if I could obtain some assistance. Nada. The store was completely packed with satanic gargoyles, all amassing tremendous quantities of sugar-filled and lard-filled food substitutes.
I have been checking the housing rentals while I sit and read the Sunday paper in the lanai area of the Beretania Street Apartments. I am primarily interested in finding a room in house for cheap (read: under $700 per month). I am now giving serious consideration to the idea of moving out of the "condotel" unit by May 31st. I will first make sure that I can break even at the least.
The hottie gym trainer was at the gym today, much to my surprise. Baby was busy with a gym member while I did my cardio workout. Baby was looking hot. After the gym, I ended up at Taco Bell®. The dining room was a mess. Food was strewn everywhere. Most of the chairs were wet for some reason. I had to wait five minutes before I received my Cheesy Bean and Rice Burritos. All in all, an unpleasant experience and possibly the last time that I patronize the dump.
I spent most of the afternoon in the student computer lab. I devote a lot of time to composing the "blog," although I have no idea why. I really have nothing important to discuss. As time passes, I will have to wean myself of the "blog." Emancipation from wage slavery will leave me with little to discuss. I will be at the "outer limits." I will be shunned because I will have no "legitimacy." I will become even more undesirable to babes, so I will remain single and celibate for the rest of my life. I will become even more mendicant because I will be able to afford less and less. Thus, the only step left before completing my exodus from society is the divestiture of the "condotel" unit and my remaining useless possessions.
At times, I feel completely lost. This was one of those times. I felt totally alone, which obviously cannot be disputed. I am alone. I am a stranger in a strange land. I am a nobody in a huge mass of satanic gargoyles. I am surrounded by crowds of clowns. I reside in a mausoleum packed with the same kinds of clowns. Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right, ...
I could not take another evening of lockdown in my pathetic prison cell (read: little shoebox), so I made the jaunt to Barnes & Noble®. The hottie "bookseller" was looking mighty fine, by the way. I perused a few books, nothing in particular. I happened to note one interesting tidbit in Greg Palast's new book, "Armed Madhouse." Apparently, the peon class no longer need worry about being paid overtime after putting in more than a standard 40-hour week of wage slavery. The labor law concerning overtime compensation was quietly amended to remove the requirement, although the more savvy oppressors (read: employers) had previously devised a more clever scheme (i.e., "promote" rank-and-file wage slaves to "managers") to circumvent overtime compensation.
When I finally returned to Waikiki at 11:30pm, I immediately went into lockdown in my prison cell. I sat on the floor in the pathetic little prison bathroom and read a few more pages of Robert Fisk's book, "The Great War for Civilization." As I've stated before, the reading of the book is becoming much more difficult for me. Even Fisk expressed his disdain for the horrors of endless war. And, that's the greatest realization that a reader can come away with. There has been nothing but endless wars, regional or global, in the whole history of humanity. The gruesomeness of war increases proportionately with technology. With every account of war atrocities, I can only tell myself that I could have easily been born in the "wrong" place by happenstance. Yes, the faceless people, the "collateral damage," that I read about in Fisk's book could easily have been me. That is, of course, the real purpose of reading such a book. Unless we come to understand history and the root causes of conflict that repeat ad infinitum, then nothing will ever change. Unless we understand what other people in other lands are experiencing, we can never develop compassion or empathy. We cannot even come to appreciate our own good fortune.
Well, we live in a culture that provides the "freedom" to be ignorant and be damned proud of it. Dare I say, in this nation, freedom is ignorance, and ignorance is freedom. Ignorance and stupidity go hand-in-hand. Pondering which is the cause and which is the effect is moot. We are well beyond the "chicken and the egg" debate. Ignorance is also malignant form of hubris, which then gives rise to a depraved sense of arrogance. Ignorant First World fat slobs, although seemingly powerless in their respective societies and in comparison to the elite class, are actually quite dangerous because they wield vast powers of destruction in their fat little hands. Their huge eco-destructive footprints (by means of rampant materialism and waste) and their sycophantic politico-religious behavior have an extremely adverse impact on the planet as well as upon the less fortunate souls who populate the Second and Third World nations. Of course, complicity is the last thing to cross the mind of an ignorant First World fat slob.
This morning, I followed the usual mundane routine detailed through literary subgenius in the "blog" of April 28th titled, "Who Knew?" I attempted to purchase a cup of coffee at Mickey Dee's® but was thwarted by a herd of extremely stupid cattle. In actuality, the cattle are semi-comatose satanic gargoyles. The constant diet of shitty food served by dumps like Mickey Dee's® only serve to fatten the already obese physique and further lobotomize the already "infantilzed" mind. Hence, the cattle-like behavior. I vowed to never return to the dump. Thus, the mundane routine of the April 28th "blog" must be revised to reflect the latter decision. I walked to Safeway® and purchased a small cup of coffee and two non-amorphous, air-filled energy bars. I wanted a larger cup of coffee, but the large cups were unavailable. I looked to see if I could obtain some assistance. Nada. The store was completely packed with satanic gargoyles, all amassing tremendous quantities of sugar-filled and lard-filled food substitutes.
I have been checking the housing rentals while I sit and read the Sunday paper in the lanai area of the Beretania Street Apartments. I am primarily interested in finding a room in house for cheap (read: under $700 per month). I am now giving serious consideration to the idea of moving out of the "condotel" unit by May 31st. I will first make sure that I can break even at the least.
The hottie gym trainer was at the gym today, much to my surprise. Baby was busy with a gym member while I did my cardio workout. Baby was looking hot. After the gym, I ended up at Taco Bell®. The dining room was a mess. Food was strewn everywhere. Most of the chairs were wet for some reason. I had to wait five minutes before I received my Cheesy Bean and Rice Burritos. All in all, an unpleasant experience and possibly the last time that I patronize the dump.
I spent most of the afternoon in the student computer lab. I devote a lot of time to composing the "blog," although I have no idea why. I really have nothing important to discuss. As time passes, I will have to wean myself of the "blog." Emancipation from wage slavery will leave me with little to discuss. I will be at the "outer limits." I will be shunned because I will have no "legitimacy." I will become even more undesirable to babes, so I will remain single and celibate for the rest of my life. I will become even more mendicant because I will be able to afford less and less. Thus, the only step left before completing my exodus from society is the divestiture of the "condotel" unit and my remaining useless possessions.
Saturday, May 05, 2007
Titanic
Just as I was ready to depart for Waikiki, Professor Lisa made a rare appearance in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. She was in town to attend the evening performance of the Diploma Mill Chorale. We only chatted briefly. "So, what are you going to do after this?" she asked. "Do you have another teaching job lined up?" I launched into some kind of ambivalent diatribe. Frankly, I no longer wish to entertain such questions. I will only end up feeling worthless as I am bamboozled by the poisonous propaganda of the "system." I must disassociate from everyone.
I went into lockdown in my prison cell (read: little shoebox) for most of the evening, once again opting to view another moronic flick on the tube. I performed the dreaded laundry task, much to my chagrin. Upon completion, I set aside my cleaned work clothes in queue for donation. I spent about an hour in the prison compound (read: hotel lobby), my only outing for the entire evening. Then, I called it a night.
I departed for town at 9am. As the prison transport (read: bus) crossed the bridge over the Ala Wai Canal, I observed a number of homeless milling about along the canal's promenade with their shopping carts filled with their worldly possessions. A large number of the homeless were also standing in line with trash bags full of cans and bottles at the dungy HI-5 redemption center situated a few feet away. Just a stone's throw from that dismal sight stands, in stark contrast, the posh Waikiki Landmark condo complex. A classic case of the "haves" and the "have nots," which further depicts the metamorphosis of Hawai'i into the Third World.
Once back in faculty computer room, I brewed a fresh pot of free generic coffee. In addition to a few wage slave tasks, I returned the remainder of my unused supplies to the faculty support center. I am essentially prepared for my last day of wage slavery. I graded my last regular exam for the term. My suspicions were confirmed. The quality of students for the term had dropped significantly from just six months ago. Well, I won't have to bother myself with such nonsense anymore, thank goodness.
I spent a good portion of two hours in a frantic rush to get everything, including my usual morning ritual1, completed and mummified. I was done before noon. What exactly was the rush? The "system" locks the unwitting wage slave into a terminal state of hurry. Knowledge of our mortality further exacerbates the problem. So, what else did I have to do but piddle around on the computer? And, what better moment to listen to DI.FM Deep House on Net radio? Well, at least the Safeway® air-filled energy bars have been restored to their previous non-amorphous state. Perhaps there was an inept baker filling in for a few days. By the way, I received the renewal notice for my Post Office mailbox. The fee is now $28 for six months, a 12 percent increase!
I transferred $900 from my investment accounts to my local bank in order to cover part of the expenses for the month. I may have to transfer more dough later this month. I was not too happy that the bank issued Visa® debit cards to replace the old ATM (read: auto-teller machine) cards. The idea, of course, is to provide more conduits for impulse spending. A debit card is also easy to abuse and rack up "insufficient funds" fees. I will use the card just like the old ATM card. By the way, I continue to use my credit card for almost all transactions. Naturally, I always pay the balance off each month. That way, I can avoid carrying cash or checks.
Caroll called and left a message on my voicemail. "I think I'm having a nervous breakdown," she said. She seems to want to discuss something by phone, which leads me to believe that she wants to negotiate a loan. In her last e-mail, she wrote, "I need help financially ... I don't know for sure what to do ... I have to have a place to live ... I have asked a few friends and my brother and sisters, but, no one can or wants to help ... so, as usual, I am in it by myself ..." I am still not sure if Caroll understands that I will be unemployed in less than a week.
By mid-afternoon, I was feeling somewhat despondent. Even a quick cardio workout at the gym did not improve my disposition. The hottie gym trainer has been conspicuously absent, which did not make matters more pleasant. From what I can tell, I am going through a deviant form of life-style and culture shock. I have no other way to describe the hopeless feeling of despair. With whatever progress I have made toward my exodus from society, I am constantly confronted by even more stupidity which seemingly sets me back. One step forward, two steps back. Emancipation from wage slavery will be the most radical step that I will be take. However, I am still saddled with a mortgage and ever-increasing expenses. I can no longer keep up. I have had to cut back to the bare minimum. Now, there's nothing left to cut back. In a way, I'm on the same sinking ship with Caroll. I'm on the Titanic2. Sheesh!
1Daily ritual posed in the literary subgenius in the "blog" of April 28th titled, "Who Knew?"
2Titanic, possibly another good name for the "system."
I went into lockdown in my prison cell (read: little shoebox) for most of the evening, once again opting to view another moronic flick on the tube. I performed the dreaded laundry task, much to my chagrin. Upon completion, I set aside my cleaned work clothes in queue for donation. I spent about an hour in the prison compound (read: hotel lobby), my only outing for the entire evening. Then, I called it a night.
I departed for town at 9am. As the prison transport (read: bus) crossed the bridge over the Ala Wai Canal, I observed a number of homeless milling about along the canal's promenade with their shopping carts filled with their worldly possessions. A large number of the homeless were also standing in line with trash bags full of cans and bottles at the dungy HI-5 redemption center situated a few feet away. Just a stone's throw from that dismal sight stands, in stark contrast, the posh Waikiki Landmark condo complex. A classic case of the "haves" and the "have nots," which further depicts the metamorphosis of Hawai'i into the Third World.
Once back in faculty computer room, I brewed a fresh pot of free generic coffee. In addition to a few wage slave tasks, I returned the remainder of my unused supplies to the faculty support center. I am essentially prepared for my last day of wage slavery. I graded my last regular exam for the term. My suspicions were confirmed. The quality of students for the term had dropped significantly from just six months ago. Well, I won't have to bother myself with such nonsense anymore, thank goodness.
I spent a good portion of two hours in a frantic rush to get everything, including my usual morning ritual1, completed and mummified. I was done before noon. What exactly was the rush? The "system" locks the unwitting wage slave into a terminal state of hurry. Knowledge of our mortality further exacerbates the problem. So, what else did I have to do but piddle around on the computer? And, what better moment to listen to DI.FM Deep House on Net radio? Well, at least the Safeway® air-filled energy bars have been restored to their previous non-amorphous state. Perhaps there was an inept baker filling in for a few days. By the way, I received the renewal notice for my Post Office mailbox. The fee is now $28 for six months, a 12 percent increase!
I transferred $900 from my investment accounts to my local bank in order to cover part of the expenses for the month. I may have to transfer more dough later this month. I was not too happy that the bank issued Visa® debit cards to replace the old ATM (read: auto-teller machine) cards. The idea, of course, is to provide more conduits for impulse spending. A debit card is also easy to abuse and rack up "insufficient funds" fees. I will use the card just like the old ATM card. By the way, I continue to use my credit card for almost all transactions. Naturally, I always pay the balance off each month. That way, I can avoid carrying cash or checks.
Caroll called and left a message on my voicemail. "I think I'm having a nervous breakdown," she said. She seems to want to discuss something by phone, which leads me to believe that she wants to negotiate a loan. In her last e-mail, she wrote, "I need help financially ... I don't know for sure what to do ... I have to have a place to live ... I have asked a few friends and my brother and sisters, but, no one can or wants to help ... so, as usual, I am in it by myself ..." I am still not sure if Caroll understands that I will be unemployed in less than a week.
By mid-afternoon, I was feeling somewhat despondent. Even a quick cardio workout at the gym did not improve my disposition. The hottie gym trainer has been conspicuously absent, which did not make matters more pleasant. From what I can tell, I am going through a deviant form of life-style and culture shock. I have no other way to describe the hopeless feeling of despair. With whatever progress I have made toward my exodus from society, I am constantly confronted by even more stupidity which seemingly sets me back. One step forward, two steps back. Emancipation from wage slavery will be the most radical step that I will be take. However, I am still saddled with a mortgage and ever-increasing expenses. I can no longer keep up. I have had to cut back to the bare minimum. Now, there's nothing left to cut back. In a way, I'm on the same sinking ship with Caroll. I'm on the Titanic2. Sheesh!
1Daily ritual posed in the literary subgenius in the "blog" of April 28th titled, "Who Knew?"
2Titanic, possibly another good name for the "system."
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