Fool's Puzzle

Last night, Tom, the Route 8 prison transport driver (read: bus driver) asked me, "Do you work?" That's a reasonable question since it always seems as though I have no major time commitments. I told Tom that I was retired, at least for now. I spared him the sordid details of my demise at the Diploma Mill that was orchestrated by a bunch of incompetent "fat fucks." Nor did I mention how my fate was completely sealed by the nefarious doings of my sociopathic buddy. That's all water under the bridge now, long gone out to sea.

I have become much more anxious about divesting the "condotel" unit, even with the huge financial loss that is looming in the background. I have already begun planning for the event. The first thing that I am going to do when the proverbial fat ho' sings is purchase a bucket of greasy KFC® chicken. Umm, umm, finger lickin' good! I am going to devour all of it in one sitting. What I am really looking forward to is becoming totally incognito when I find an obscure rental housing unit in some undisclosed location. That will be start of my new life post-exodus.

In the meantime, the homeless guy emulation will continue, just as it did today. I spent three hours lapsing in and out of a coma at the Hawai'i State Library. Then, I walked to the gym to do my usual workout. No hottie gym trainer. The prison transport (read: bus) ride back to Waikiki was long and tedious. After my prison dinner (read: beans and bread) and the completion of my psychotic rituals, I laid down on the floor to contemplate my pathetic situation. The next thing I knew, the time was 8:30pm.

Fortunately, I had enough time to go on furlough. I ended up at y safe haven, Barnes & Noble® after a quick stop at Foodland. The hottie "bookseller" was not on duty. Boohoo. Tom, the Route 8 prison transport driver (read: bus driver), asked me about my "early retirement." I gave him a short synopsis of the story. That's the only socializing that I did all day. The rest of the evening will be the same ol' shit.

I am beginning to understand the underpinnings of modern economics. Here's a tidbit from the Wall Street Journal site:

The wealthiest 1% of Americans earned 21.2% of all income in 2005, according to new data from the Internal Revenue Service. That is up sharply from 19% in 2004, and surpasses the previous high of 20.8% set in 2000, at the peak of the previous bull market in stocks.

The bottom 50% earned 12.8% of all income, down from 13.4% in 2004 and a bit less than their 13% share in 2000.

As previously cited in the "blog," net worth data was very similar in stratification. The interest rate reduction by the Fed has done nothing to alleviate the so-called "real estate bubble" crisis. The purpose of the interest rate cuts was to provide "liquidity" to financial institutions to insure that business loans, loans for speculators, and loans for private equity firms continue in order to sell off the empire's assets.

The Friedmanites have proven that an entire population could be reduced to slaves, yet the nation's economy remains somewhat intact. In the old days, the latter was called a "feudal system." I suspect that 75 percent of the empire's population could be reduced to poverty and/or homelessness, and the economy could still be booming concurrently. Just read what happened in Chilé, Argentina, the former Soviet Union, South Africa, Bolivia, and so forth.

Stocks are very expensive right now, which is evidence of an equity "bubble." However, for foreign speculators, the devaluing dollar makes US stocks a bargain. A so-called "American" need only look at his mutual fund balance sheet to see that the stock market boom isn't generating a whole lot of action. Yesterday, I noticed that the shelves at the Hawai'i Kai Safeway® were filled with food. I have never seen more much food and so much variety. One would be hard-pressed to believe that anyone could be starving in the world. Yet, that's the beauty of the "system." There's no way of knowing when the tide will turn.

I continue to pray that I will soon be able to complete my exodus from society. I have got to divest to divest the "condotel" unit and begin my new life as an obscure peon.

Price of "Freedom"

Last night, I spent much of the time at my safe haven, Barnes & Noble®, pacing around and pondering the plight of the despicable "condotel" unit. I have pretty much decided to lower the price once again. I will attempt to sell the unit for $130,000 minimum. Obviously, the lower price will add another $12,000 in losses to the rough figure of $23,100 (gross projected loss and $9,900 (net projected loss). I will be looking at new figures of $35,100 and $21,900 (gross and net projected losses, respectively). Mind you, that is not chump change. That is what "freedom" is going to cost me, only because I was stupid enough to buy into the "middle class lockdown" (as Joe Bageant so eloquently put it). So, yes, now I have to "pay the piper."

It is hard not to think about what I could have done with the money otherwise. The point is moot anyway because, as long as I own the "condotel" unit, it is locked away as equity. Nonetheless, I could have purchased hella cans of beans with that kind of dough. There's no sense in pondering the matter much further. I just need to sell the dump and be done with it. I will attempt to recoup my losses in the future. Then again, can I really put a price on "freedom"?

As with every Thursday, a tanning hike was on the agenda. My first stop was Kahala Mall for "C 'n R" (read: a cup of coffee and relaxation) at the Barnes & Noble® Café. The tanning hike was refreshing, although I spent most of the time in deep contemplation. Basically, can I finally accept the buyout from the "middle class lockdown"? As I was gliding back down the trail, I assured myself that I am indeed ready to forfeit the dough to get out of Babylon.

I visited with moms after the hike. We drove to Kuapa Kai. Moms had to drop of three pairs of shoes at the shoe repair store. We then ate local-style plate lunches at L&L Drive-In. It is exactly the same as Loco Moco. After lunch, we stopped off at Koko Marina and sat outside to chat for a while. I dropped moms off and drove back to Koko Marina. I did only my weight workout. Then, I stopped off at the Hawai'i Kai Safeway® to purchase a few air-filled energy bars. The store was remodeled last year to fit the affluent Hawai'i Kai life-style. Needless to say, most of the customers are arrogant. My final stop was at Kahala Mall again. I purchased a smoothie at Jamba Juice® for my dinner. There's nothing like a cold smoothie on a hot day. I browsed around my safe haven, Barnes & Noble®, briefly before returning to Waikiki.

Once back in my prison cell (read: little shoebox), I called Debbie, my realtor. We discussed the new price. For now, we set it at $139,000 to see if we get any takers. Next on the agenda was the dreaded laundry chores and my usual psychotic rituals. Alas, I made a break for my safe haven, Barnes & Noble®, at Ala Moana Center. Can I get enough of the place? Obviously not. The hottie "bookseller" was on duty. Do I need to mention that baby was looking mighty fine? After an hour or so, I had no choice but to return to Quagmire Prison (read: hotel) for more late night fun.

Are credit cards the source of all the money that I see fools spending like crazy? According to James Saft in an article appearing the Reuters site:

Federal Reserve data released on Friday showed U.S. consumer borrowing rising by $12.18 billion in August, more than 20 percent more than economists had forecast.

Most striking was an 8.1 percent increase in borrowing on revolving credit lines, mostly credit cards, to a record $909 billion.

And, Jay Hancock wrote on the Baltimore Sun site:

As growth in home equity balances has fallen almost to zero, credit-card balances have increased at a 17 percent annual rate over the past six months, according to a report by Merrill Lynch economist David Rosenberg. And the trend, he writes, "is clearly accelerating." A year ago card balances were shrinking.

Card defaults are up, too. They are nowhere near the levels reached after the tech-stock meltdown and the 2001 terrorist attacks, but they will grow. The average American has seven credit cards in his wallet. Americans owe more than $500 billion on cards already. Household debt levels and debt payments are near all-time highs. And the economy is in danger of entering recession.

And, for real fun, an article appeared on the Advertiser site about the increased presence of the homeless in Waikiki. Frankly, I predicted that would happen, and I am glad to see the homeless deliberately infiltrating the most sacred of spots, Waikiki. More power to them! Incidentally, the article even has a nice map to show all of the homeless locations that I have spoken of.

Lastly, I've been listening to my one and only Kevin Yost CD whenever I drive my truck. I own only two music CDs, by the way. The site has a large sample of his music.

High Crimes

Another homeless guy emulation kind-of-a-day. I experienced numerous intrusive thoughts about the hottie gym trainer. Thus, I broke my own rules and purchased a small cup of coffee at Safeway®. The intrusive thoughts did not go away, but the coffee sure tasted good. The sinister kahuna has been working overtime in toying with the oversized cranium. It knows when I am in weakened state, which is why it taunts me with what I cannot have. I long ago learned that evil is a crafty force to reckon with. Some may laugh, but I know what evil can and will do to bring humanity to destruction. Yet, evil is an option that must exist in a universe based upon free will. Only when evil is embraced and practiced will it becomes a personification of the soul. The sinister kahuna is that personification.

The routine for the day was the same ol' shit. My only agenda item is my workout at the gym. I did not see the hottie gym trainer. Boohoo. I escaped to my safe haven, Barnes & Noble®, later in the evening. The hottie "bookseller" was on duty. Baby was looking mighty fine. When I arrived back in my prison cell (read: little shoebox). The Net broadband connection was down again. So, I spent an hour in the prison compound (read: hotel lobby) doing more reading. An unexciting evening at best.

I had contacted Debbie, my realtor, by e-mail yesterday. We are discussing the new price for the "condotel" unit. Debbie suggested $135,000 but I may just lower it $139,000 to get a reasonable offer.

My continued reading of Naomi Klein's tome, "The Shock Doctrine," has begun to reinforce my opinion that she has found the common thread to link the gamut of unanswered questions from a broad range of inquisitive minds including Mike Ruppert, Kevin Phillips, Chalmers Johnson, Morris Berman, William Bonner and Addison Wiggin, Jim Kunstler, Mike Whitney, Elaine Supkis, Paul Craig Roberts, Stephen Lendman, and so forth. As I read about the Friedman experiment as applied to the various Latin and South American nations, I became more cognizant of the exact same policies at play within the empire. Hence, my previous assertion that the empire would eventually turn upon itself has merit. The Friedmanite "shock treatment" could not be applied with full vigor upon the empire because of large diverse population and the widely distributed bureaucratic government. The lack of a homogeneous population has been the main obstacle. Sadly, various methods (e.g., the 2000 "selection" by the Supremos) have been employed to place the Friedmanites in power and keep them there.

The lesson was possibly learned after the fall of the Soviet Union. The "shock treatment" caused a rapid collapse of the former Soviet empire. However, a strict totalitarian government was already in place to keep the population in check. Such an approach would be chaotic in the empire, even though the populace has already been "softened up." And, as with the Soviet Union, the empire is geographically enormous compared to the Latin American nations preyed upon in the initial Chicago School experiments. Therefore, a customized version of the Friedman "shock treatment" must be applied.

We are gradually seeing the effects of the Friedmanite policies, including the huge wealth transfer from the poor to the rich class and the gradual extinction of the middle class. Next year, the first of the "baby boomers" will begin to claim early Social Security retirement benefits. In addition, 2008 is a Presidential "selection" year, surely a cause of concern for the Friedmanites.

One assumption is that the stock market will go through a major correction in the near future. Right now, the equities boom is a reflection of the major sell-off of the empire's assets to foreign interests, yet another Friedmanite objective. The recent concessions made by the UAW are chilling predictors of the uncertain future of trade unions, the last bastion of the middle class.

The so-called "war on terror" must continue as well as the conflagrations in Iraq and Afghanistan. That is also why Osama bin Laden must exist in perpetuity. Keeping the empire's populace in constant, albeit low-level, fear will maintain conformity. The laws are already in place for the small minority who refuse to conform. We know that the non-conformists constitute a very small minority by simply looking at crippled anti-war effort. Thus, the number of dubious internment camps of the empire remain low. Just as it was with the Latin American experiment, the non-conformists can be rounded up and "disappeared." Even simply containing the rebels in camps would be adequate to quell any inkling of rebellion.

It is essential that the Friedmanites install a candidate next year who will continue the empire's self-imposed "shock treatment." They have come this far. They do not want to turn back. There are numerous scenarios postulated by various sources. The sell-off of the empire's assets will continue. Taxes will most likely be cut again. All forms of debt will increase. The wealth transfer will accelerate. It will look like more of the same as far as the rank-and-file peons are concerned. The Fed will adjust interest rates to prop up the fake economy during the election year. The stock market will undergo a major "correction," which will be the cue for the incursion into Iran. The war will create the diversion to mask another series of stealth Friedmanite policies, the most notable would be to initiate the dismantling process for Social Security and Medicare, or any other New Deal (read: "socialist") programs. At that point, the probability of civil unrest increases. Fortunately, the option to invoke martial law already exists. As long as the "war on terror" continues, any opposition to the empire will be construed as aiding the "terrorists." Civil unrest itself may be defined as "terrorism."

The sole motive for the Friedmanites is greed, one of the "seven sins." The complacent populace is constantly spoon-fed ideas that greed is good. The model for greed is assumed to be linear. Thus, there is little cause for alarm in the dulled mind. However, greed is not linear. Greed follows a very steep exponential model. What previously transpired over a year now takes only three months. Soon, what transpired in three months will happen in days. In other words, greed is spiraling out of control. I do not believe that there is ample time left for the exodus. The window of escape is closing fast. If we cannot escape in time, then there will be a need for a whole new set of strategies to survive.

Pariah

Can you believe it? Another homeless guy emulation kind-of-a-day. The highlight of the day was when I caught a glimpse of the hottie gym trainer rushing to work just as I left the gym at 4pm. Baby was looking hot. El Diablo hot. I experienced a minor bout of testosterone shock. Fortunately, after riding an overcrowded prison transport (read: bus) back to Waikiki, I arrived in time for Happy Hour in the prison compound (read: hotel lobby). I had to drop back four free drinks, thanks to the hottie gym trainer. Well, it's not really baby's fault.

I almost threw my prison dinner (read: can of beans) through the glass louvers of my prison cell (read: little shoebox). What sane man would eat that crap every single day? What does it prove? No doubt, I was feeling insecure because I knew that I could never have a babe like the hottie gym trainer. Obviously, I took leave of my senses.

Big headache. I was completely groggy, but I made the jaunt to Ala Moana Center. I had to stop off at Longs® to purchase a loaf of bread. Then, I spent an hour in my safe have, Barnes & Noble®. No hottie "bookseller." I returned to my prison cell only to be privy to a slammin' soirée courtesy the fools in the adjacent prison cell. Are all of these clowns just plain idiotic? So, I spent an hour in the prison compound. I have got to get out of this dump and soon.

I should make a few points about my pariah status. Why exactly am I deliberately living in intolerable situations? For example, I have been emancipated from wage slavery, but I am now financially strapped. Within a few months, I will be on the road to bankruptcy. Why? I have hesitated to return to wage slavery mainly because I do not know where I will reside when I divest the "condotel" unit. If I choose to live on the other side of the island, I would prefer to engage in wage slavery close by. Obviously, the "condotel" unit is not being divested, so I am in a quandary. Even of more concern is that my return to wage slavery would place me right back in the middle of the so-called "mainstream." I would have to deal with myriad satanic gargoyles including coworkers. As a minimum wage peon, I would have to tolerate a lot of abuse and oppression. Naturally, one's thinking changes rather quickly. Why put up with all the crap and not enjoy the piddly fruits of my labor? I would begin spending money again on useless crap just to satisfy my empty soul. That, of course, is where I just came from.

Then, there is the babe situation. Biologically, I would enjoy hookin' up with the hottie gym trainer, for example. However, what is the price that I would have to pay for such a tryst? No doubt, there would have to be a complete reversal of life-style. Yes, I would have to embrace wage slavery, but I would need to make more than minimum wage. In other words, I would have to chase the so-called "American Dream." If I don't, then baby will not want to do da wild thing with the ol' lavahead. No babe would put up with the pathetic little "condotel" unit, even though the dump costs as much as a big house in some parts of the mainland.

The fact of the matter is that the "American Dream" is elusive and unsustainable. The result of chasing an illusion is a tremendous amount of psychological stress. This is not the kind of society in which people "make do." It's all, or nothing. Win, or lose. Aside from spending money to purchase useless crap to fill a spiritual void, possessions are accumulated to impress others. A pathetic and endless game, I might add. Buying out of the "system" is costly. And, believe me, there is no free ride out of the "system." I have been chronicling my own ordeal in the "blog." Even a careless, albeit incidental, foray back into the "system" adds much more to the exit cost.

So, now, I am even more careful. My primary goal is to divest the "condotel" unit, only because the mortgage ties me to the "system." If I reasoned with myself that I will always need a roof over my head, then my primary goal would be foolish, if not self-destructive. I am going to be very selective about the kind of wage slave job that I accept in the future. I cannot be employed in a situation where my core values will be challenged, or I will be tempted to question my own motivation. I have also disassociated from practically all friends and acquaintances. I cannot put myself in an environment where peer pressure, subliminal or otherwise, will adversely affect my core values.

Certainly, the path of a pariah is a very solitary journey. There is little, if any, emotional or moral support. It certainly is not the desired life-style of anyone rapidly approaching the "Golden Years." I look back at the decisions that I have made, primarily that of remaining single and celibate, and I realize how I came to this point in life. I will never have my own family, and I am destined to rough it out on my own as a decrepit senior citizen. I don't think that the ramifications have fully sunk in yet, but that is the truth of the matter.

At this point in time, there is not much that I can do to change matters. I am already past the point, philosophically, that I can integrate back into "mainstream" society. Thus, the exodus must continue.

Incidentally, I may possibly experiment with an operating system called DSL (read: Damn Small Linux) and the slightly larger one called DSL-N. Both operating systems can be installed on a bootable USB flash drive. DSL and DSL-N both have a number of downsized applications that are included in the package.

El Diablo's Lair

The sinister kahuna was apparently working overtime yesterday, toying cruelly with the oversized cranium. I was completely fatigued by the multiple testosterone shocks. Oh, that hottie gym trainer! I almost lost my mind when I saw baby wearing that tight green top. Mind you, I am in no danger of losing my monk status. Sadly, there is no babe who is willing and eager to lure the poor ol' lavahead into her lair.

I was quite surprised by my lapse into the realm of primal desires. In humans, biology can be subdued with reasoning and willpower. Mind over matter, as it were. There are always repercussions, or "blowback," if I may be so bold. The latter effects cannot be avoided until the biology can be contained or neutralized. Simple acceptance via renunciation is adjunctive at best. The subject would be moot had not the natural biological processes been "commodified" and commercialized. That is why human mating has become so troublesome. I only mention the latter in passing because the exodus necessitates the complete avoidance of "commodified" biology. There is no greater snare offered by the "system."

During the past few days, I have spent much more time piddling with my Toshiba® Satellite notebook computer. Just like the old days, eh? Well, since I did not venture over to Ala Moana Center in the evenings, I had nothing else to do for a few hours. I haven't watched the tube in months. I am now very pleased with my computer. It is completely optimized. And, I never install any useless applications on it. In case anyone purchases a Windows® Vista computer, following my suggestions in the "blog" will probably make a world of difference. For now, my computer is the only window to the outside world.

I met moms for lunch at Kahala Mall. Naturally, I enjoyed a cup of coffee in the Barnes &Noble® Café first. Moms and I ate lunch at Panda Express®. Then, I drove moms back to Hawai'i Kai. Because of the holiday, my bro and his son were home. I was not able to spend more time with moms. I chatted briefly with my bro before departing. I stopped off at Koko Marina because I had a very upset stomach. I parked and walked to the public restrooms only to discover that it was locked up. I practically ran back to my truck and sped off to Koko Head Park to use the restroom facilities there. What a damned joke! That's what the homeless have to put up with every single day.

I drove back to Waikiki and parked my truck. I then rode the prison transport (read: bus) to town. I spent about 30 minutes meandering about like a homeless guy before heading to the gym. No hottie gym trainer. Damn it! After my workout and shower, I rode a crowded prison transport back to Waikiki.

At the last minute, I decided to make the jaunt to Ala Moana Center. I first stopped off at Foodland to purchase some fruit and a piece of pudding cake. Then, I spent an hour at my safe haven, Barnes & Noble®. The hottie "bookseller" was on duty. Baby was looking mighty fine. Later, I spent a little time in the prison compound (read: hotel lobby) reading Naomi Klein's book, "The Shock Doctrine." I am already one-fifth through the book.

Shirley sent e-mail yesterday. I was surprised to hear from her. Oddly, I was just thinking about her the other day. She is still working at the law office. Her employer is paying for the paralegal classes that she is currently enrolled in. Sounds as though she is serious about a career as a paralegal. Her Diploma Mill degree is essentially useless. Shirley wants to get together for lunch sometime. I will have to see if I can fit that into my homeless guy agenda. Sheesh!

Shock Doctrine

Oh man, I am not certain if I can handle more days of homeless guy emulation. Sheesh! The regimen is not physically taxing. The problem rests with the psychological struggle to retain the essence of "self." Maintenance of dignity is a close secondary issue.

In some respects, the homeless guy emulation is similar to the "MKUltra" program developed by the CIA. In fact, Naomi Klein discussed the brief history of the alleged "brainwashing" and "mind control" program in her book, "The Shock Doctrine." The actual program originated at McGill University in Canada under the auspices of the evil Nazi director, Donald Ewen Cameron. The original program used sensory deprivation, electric shock therapy, and hallucinatory and coma-inducing drugs in order to "reset" the brain to its original birth state. The fool Cameron believed that, once the brain was wiped clean of all memory, it could be reprogrammed. The experiments were a failure insofar as psychopathological healing was concerned. However, the same procedures became the foundation for modern day torture. The empire purchased and exported Cameron's torture technology to many other nations, which is why "enemy combatants" are often shuttled elsewhere through "extraordinary rendition."

If we ponder modern life carefully, we may discover that it is, in essence, a "slow burn" implementation of "MKUltra" torture techniques. A more accelerated program is experienced by the economically displaced (e.g., the homeless). Both the mindless consumerist life-style of the rank-and-file peon and the possessions-challenged life-style of the homeless create an environment of sensory and cultural deprivation. The voluntary abuse of cheap booze and illicit drugs by both populations induces a semi-comatose, disoriented state. The effects of a crowded, uncaring society (i.e., crime, violence, stress, wage slavery, etc.) introduces the key shock elements that, when combined with the disorientation, essentially reproduces a low level of torture over a long duration of time. The end result is complete unquestioning conformity.

Cameron, however, was able to force a maturity regression upon his unwitting subjects. After undergoing extended periods of his "therapy," the subjects displayed child-like, infantile behavior. Torture victims undergo the same kind of desired transformation, or "compliance." The purpose of the initial "therapy" is to "soften up" the subject. Therefore, I posit that the same outcome occurs even with the low level torture that we are subjected to. Do we not see a prevalence of unruly, selfish, and infantile behavior amongst the general populace?

Scary as it may seem, the slow torture (i.e., "softening up" process) has been going on for decades, and it was not unintentional. If Naomi Klein is correct, we are beginning to see the fruits of Milton Friedman's labor implemented in his homeland, a dream that he never lived to see fulfilled. The Friedmanites have been in power now for seven years. They are ready to begin unleashing the "shock treatment," similar to the implementations in Chilé, Argentina, and Iraq. The treatments are mandated to be fast and brutal.

"Shock and Awe" is the new terminology, the idea being that a dulled population can be rapidly terrorized into submission. The purpose? A radical transformation of the economy to total laissez-faire capitalism, which include deregulation of businesses, "privatization" of the public sector, and the elimination of social programs (i.e., "safety nets"). A radical transformation and reduction of government to serve only two purposes - policing the populace and enforcing business contracts. All rhetoric aside, Friedmanite economics is about ethnic cleansing, redistribution of wealth to favor the rich, the plundering and theft of international resources, exploitation and oppression of the masses, and the elimination of "useless eaters."

I had not been to Safeway® in a week, so I was overdue for a visit. I purchased a small cup of coffee, along with the usual food items for lunch. I loitered in the usual places before going to the gym. Upon my arrival, I spotted the hottie gym trainer working with a gym member. Baby was looking hot. I did my cardio workout. Then, as I was ready to exit the gym, I saw the hottie gym trainer standing behind the front desk and talking on the phone. When baby is not working with a gym member, she always removes her uniform. Baby was wearing an extremely tight green top. Oh man, baby is very well endowed, and she is in excellent physical shape. Baby has a perfect body like Briana Banks. Baby is so hot! I went into testosterone shock. My mind was ready to snap, and I felt dizzy. Apparently, the Vienna Sausage is still operational. How could that be?

I immediately departed for Waikiki on the prison transport (read: bus). I dropped off my gym bag and washed my gym clothes. I then boarded a prison transport back to town. A gorgeous African-American babe sat next to me way in the back of the coach. I had a sudden relapse of testosterone shock. I felt extremely faint. Baby was a hottie. When I alighted the prison transport in town, I headed for Longs®. My nerves had calmed down by then. However, I had intrusive thoughts about the hottie gym trainer for the rest of the day.

What I should have done is purchase a 40-dog of cheap malt liquor and drop back the whole bottle in one sitting. The only known cure for testosterone shock is sedation. Well, I suppose that I could have jolted the Vienna Sausage with my Nova® Spirit electronic restraining device. Yes, the other known cure is shock treatment. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaa!

Unexpectedly, I decided not to venture out in the dark of night. Frankly, I would have lost my mind had I gone through another testosterone shock upon seeing the hottie "bookseller" at my safe haven, Barnes &Noble®. I continued to have intrusive thoughts about the hottie gym trainer throughout the evening. It's a good thing that I could never have a babe like her. Otherwise, I would end up in deep crap. The rest of the evening was a carbon copy of last night.

Writing a journal or a "blog" is a tiresome business, especially if the writing tends to focus on a trivial life such as my own. I have seen "blogs, on-line journals and diaries, and other on-line foolishness come and go. Every day, I ask myself, "What is there to write about?" I am neither a pundit or an information resource. Thus, I am only chronicling my own daily experiences, which tends to be rather limited and repetitive. My only goal for the "blog" is to maintain it until I feel satisfied that I have attained a modicum of "freedom." Then, the "blog" will become extremely sporadic.

I am fatigued, almost completely drained of energy by a society and culture diametrically opposed to my own values. Ben Tripp summed up the situation quite well:

The symptoms are unmistakable. First, one finds oneself repeating the same political and social arguments again and again, usually to people that already agree. An established pattern of obsessive news-watching develops, always aimed at confirming one's darkest suspicions. These suspicions are generally confirmed. A distaste for the general public comes next, as one realizes that, statistically, most people just don't give a shit. Symptoms begin to cascade: feelings of alienation, suspicion, and isolation hang overhead like a morning fog that never quite burns off (although it will dissolve in alcohol). Frustration at the lack of popular interest in life-or-death matters leads to a desire to do something drastic, such as flee the country, commit suicide, or post short videos on YouTube. At last, feelings of exhaustion take over. Apathy follows, sometimes accompanied by hives

Tripp's interesting viewpoint appeared on the Smirking Chimp site.

I have become less concerned about the political machinations of the empire and the figureheads who run the show. The real power lies in the hands of the corporations and the big money elite. The latter and former are the moneychangers and powers-that-be that I keep referring to. The proof should be fairly obvious. The empire's government has long ceased representing the will of the people. We are living in a rogue nation, or should I say, a rogue "corporatocracy." Its sole pillar is greed. With the general populace reduced to an infantile state, the only possibility is to let the empire run its course and eventually self-destruct. Can the small minority of the informed escape before the calamity? I don't really know. My own exodus is stalled.

Friedman or Freedom?

Yet another day of homeless guy emulation, and I am seriously beginning to wonder if I have crossed the gray area of mental insanity. As I walked to the entrance of the library, I observed two shabby characters, most likely homeless, sitting on a stone bench outside. One guy asked the other, "So, where do the homeless hang out?" Even in the homeless world, "networking" and finding a good mentor are very important for survival.

I spent two hours in the inner courtyard, lapsing in and out of a coma. I don't even bother perusing any of the books anymore since most of them are outdated. I did a quick workout at the gym before returning to Waikiki. While I waited at the prison transport stop (read: bus stop), I noticed that there was a food concession set up in Chinatown Gateway Park with a long line of homeless filing through. The food was obviously free. I recognized almost every one of the homeless in the lineup. I was tempted to partake of the free food, but thought better of it. The day will come when I will be in the food line legitimately.

Once I set foot in my prison cell (read: little shoebox), I unpacked my gym bag, washed my gym clothes, and hung the clothes to dry, then I was on my way back to town. Because of the intermittent precipitation, I opted to stop off at Longs®. I purchased one Granny's® Gourmet Muffin and a can of Campbell's® SpaghettiOs® for dinner. I walked to the Post Office to check my mail. Then, I sat in the lanai area of the Beretania Street Apartments and observed the myriad homeless congregating in the adjacent park. Everywhere I go, all I see are the homeless. I suddenly became mentally fatigued. I staggered to the prison transport stop near the Post Office. Fortunately, a Route 4 prison transport (read: bus) arrived shortly afterward.

I seem to enjoy the ride through the slums of Makiki. My guess is that I am subconsciously acclimating myself to the kind of place where I will eventually reside. Yet, I cannot imagine that the residents of the Makiki slums are eating prison food (read: beans and bread) every night for dinner. What I am coming to realize is that I am much poorer than I thought. I see shabby characters and young punks with assorted toys and 4000-pound motorized chairs (read: automobiles or mobile caskets) that I could never afford. I was fortunate to be able to purchase my 2005 Nissan® Frontier Nismo truck in cash. I publish my income and expenses reports at the beginning of each month in the "blog." It's fairly obvious that I can't even squeeze a can of Spam® into the budget. Sheesh!

Once back in my prison cell, I performed my trivial rituals as detailed in the "blog" of April 28th titled, "Who Knew?" I ate the SpaghettiOs® straight from the can. Yuck! Terrible stuff. Oh well, I had better get used to that kind of food (term used loosely).

The intermittent rain kept me from straying outside Quagmire Prison (read: hotel) this evening. I piddled around with my Toshiba® Satellite notebook computer. Then, I spent an hour or so in the prison compound (read: hotel lobby) and read more of Naomi Klein's book, "The Shock Doctrine." The book actually provides the economic insight into the empire's imperial advances, whereas Stephen Kinzer's book, "Overthrow," provides more of the military and political details.

Incidentally, I read that Costa Rica is being pressured to conform to "free trade," the vehicle being the Central American Free Trade Agreement (CAFTA). In other words the country will "Friedmanized" (in honor of Milton Friedman), or should I say, sodomized. That's not exactly good news. Once CAFTA takes effect, Costa Rica will eventually collapse economically. It's population will be reduced to slavery. It's democracy will yield to a dictatorship. And, the whole country will be "privatised." That's the Friedman way:

What is the moral lesson from all this? There is none; the law of the jungle rules. Those who can steal will steal. Those who can rape will do so with impunity. There is no punishment for the strong; it is the weak that has to pay. Meanwhile we pretend to believe all their lies and keep hoping for cheaper oil and higher share prices; otherwise we have to face our own complicity in their crimes. After all who elected them and who re-elected them? Our very silence makes us an accomplice.

The latter quote is that of Abbas Bakhtiar from an article that apeared on the Information Clearinghouse site. Costa Rica, Iraq, Iran ... it's all the same game, isn't it? Do we want Friedman or freedom?

Old Man Malady

I did not sleep well last night. My left knee was plagued by intermittent sharp pains all night. No doubt, more old man maladies. How can I hook up with a young hottie if I am plagued by old man maladies? Just kidding! I was not able to connect with Lori, so surfing will be postponed for another day. Surfing is another issue. I have put the surfing activity on hold, as with everything else, while I wait to divest the ridiculous "condotel" unit. In my fragile mental state, I can only handle one issue at any given time.

I followed the usual homeless guy emulation pattern. I spent three hours in the library courtyard. I lapsed in and out of a coma, for lack of anything better to do. After that, I performed my only important ritual of the day - my workout at the gym. I ran into Pseudo-professor Lee at the gym. We chatted briefly. In that short period of time, I became reacquainted with the reasons why I despise higher education faculty. Most of them are "out of it" or completely eccentric. Sadly, I returned to Waikiki to perform my many trivial rituals in my prison cell (read: little shoebox).

I decided to hang around Quagmire Prison (read: hotel) for the evening. I just did not want to venture anywhere I would run into crowds of idiots. I was just not in the mood. Most likely, I will spend the latter part of the evening in the prison compound (read: hotel lobby). I've got my new book to read, more knowledge to absorb, and an exodus that needs to be fulfilled.

The stock market continues to surge, the reason given being an optimistic employment report. The real truth is that the Fed injected $28 billion into the money system in the last few days. Expect the dollar to continue to weaken against all major currencies except the yen. The monetary manipulations that transpire on a grand scale exemplifies the fact that the rank-and-file peon is simply a sock puppet to the moneychangers and the powers-that-be. The peons are financially and politically helpless in a world ruled by big money. That's the "shock doctrine" at work.

The Fed's interest rate cut has done little to alleviate the problems in the housing industry. Apparently, all the liquidity in the world has done nothing but raise mortgage interest rates even higher. As a result, most real estate activity in Hawai'i has stopped. I missed the opportunity to sell the "condotel" unit by a couple of weeks. Had I lowered the price earlier, I would have been on the road to "freedom" by now.

The reason that there is no security in the lives of the rank-and-file peons is obvious. Every aspect of our lives has been placed in the hands of speculators. Even a few of the more daring peons have become speculators in their own eyes, perhaps out of the need to feel self-important. Speculation is for Big Money Grip players, not for the small-time fools. The stock market is a crap shoot, and mutual funds are a sham. Yet, the dream of getting something for nothing, essentially greed, is the driving force in the empire. That's the reason why I want to escape so bad.

Sock Puppet

It's Thursday, and you know what that means ... tanning hike up Koko Head! But first, I had to stop off at Kahala Mall to partake of my morning coffee ritual at the Barnes & Noble® Café. The hike was enjoyable. However, rather than peruse the scenery, I waxed philosophic about the nature of humans. I then pondered that amazing cycles of life on the planet, all perpetual motion machines. I am not only speaking of the reproduction of species, but also about how the planet maintains itself. Humans are insignificant with respect to the planet. Aside from our ability to destroy ourselves, we have nothing remarkable to offer the planet and the other species of life.

What I do find interesting is the planet's intimate relationship with the sun. I will not delineate upon the latter any further. There are ample treatises on the subject matter. However, all of the perpetual motion machines continue to function because of the energy absorbed from the sun. The universe is filled with an infinite number of suns, the collective energy of which is beyond human comprehension. Indeed, if that is the case, then the Creator of the universe must be comprised of infinitely more energy. Can that much concentrated energy possess intelligence? I not only believe that to be possible, but also that it is so.

I felt invigorated after the hike. I met moms at noon. I drove moms to Koko Marina so moms could shop at Foodland. We also picked up a couple of plate lunch specials at Zippy's. After lunch, I helped moms straighten out the oversized plastic cover on her bed's box spring. Later, I did a short workout at the gym in Koko Marina. Then, I bid farewell to moms. I stopped off at Kawaikui Beach Park on the way to Kahala Mall. I checked out the waves, and noted only two surfers in the water. At Kahala Mall, I purchased a smoothie at Jamba Juice®, rationalizing the latter because of the hot day. I meandered around, but there is no fun in hanging out at a shopping mall. Thus, at five o' clock, I made my way back to Waikiki.

My furlough at Barnes & Noble® tonight was well spent. The hottie "bookseller" was on duty. I purchased Naomi Klein's book, "The Shock Doctrine: The Rise of Disaster Capitalism." Even with the 20 percent discount, the book still cost $24 and some change. I am compelled to read, but not necessarily for enjoyment. I've mentioned that fact before. Knowledge is power, but as the Good Book stated, "He who increases knowledge increases pain." I am also very selective about my booklist. That's why I spend so much time browsing the bookshelves at my safe haven. And, no, I do not reach for the latest "tin foil hat" book, although many of the books labeled as such have proven to be accurate. I always confirm that the author has provided ample citations and references. The font must also be larger than the minimum for a sixth-grade reading level. Don't laugh. I have observed that quite a few of the Nazi-slanted books on the popular reading shelves fail to meet both my simple tests. And, yes, the font was often as large as that in a kid's book (e.g., "The Pet Goat").

I've have noticed that Devin had deleted his "blog" about a week ago. He appeared to be a little distraught about life in the empire. I can't say that I blame him. Devin's generation will have assume the responsibility to undo the mess that is being created now. In addition, the tremendous amount of debt will also be that generation's inheritance, that is, unless the empire decides to repudiate its debt. Even now, attempting to survive in the empire is no trivial task. Let's hope that he soldiers on with the rest of us. Sooner or later, we'll make a clean break.

Frankly, in the kind of simple life-style that I would eagerly embrace, a book such as, "The Pet Goat," would be more than adequate. However, we do not live in such a simple world. We are being tossed about by the moneychangers and the powers-that-be as though we are old sock puppets. Therefore, I feel that it is my duty to be an informed citizen, whether I am a socialist monk or not.

As a side note, I have disabled several tray applications in Windows® Vista on my Toshiba® Satellite notebook computer. Later, I am going to disable non-essential Windows® services as well. My goal is to optimize my computer, although I know not why. I suppose that, since Linux is not ready for prime time, I will have to settle for second best. I no longer recognize the "other" operating system. Incidentally, my computer really blazes along now, not that I do anything processor-intensive on it anyway.

Finger Lickin' Good

I left fairly early for Ala Moana Center this morning after I retrieved my truck from the Waikiki Banyan parking structure. Moms had called and left a message to meet there 9am. I purchased a large cup of Starbuck's® coffee and waited for moms outside Longs®. An hour passed. I was getting a little worried. Finally, moms arrived at 10am. Moms did some shopping at Longs® and also at Sears®. We ate bento lunch at Shirokiya. After lunch, I walked to the gym in Koko Marina to do my workout. The air conditioning system was being replaced, so there was no ventilation on both floors. The whole place was beyond stifling hot. Yet, I soldiered on, completing my workout drenched in sweat. Later, I bid farewell to moms and drove to Kahala Mall. I met Lori in the Barnes & Noble® Café. We chatted for about an hour and sipped on some kind of fruity tea beverage. Lori wants to go surfing on Friday. I will check the surf conditions to see if it is favorable.

I was very reluctant to return to Waikiki, a feeling which is increasing in intensity with each passing day. Just stepping into my prison cell (read: little shoebox) is a disappointment that is breeding extreme contempt on my part. As I told Lori, I am just one stress point (i.e., stressor) away from putting the dump back into the hotel rental pool and rendering myself homeless. I ate the usual prison fare (read: beans and bread) for dinner. For once, why can't I splurge and purchase a bucket of greasy KFC® chicken? Sheesh!

While cleaning my prison cell with my humble dustpan and brush (a task performed nightly), I was compelled to throw my humble dustpan and brush through the glass louvers. However, I came to my senses not a moment too soon. Frankly I could not run to my safe haven, Barnes & Noble®, quick enough this evening. No hottie "bookseller," though. I meandered through the aisles as usual. I seem to gain some semblance of solace when I gaze at the myriad titles on the shelves. I may peruse a book or two to see if the contents are worthy of consideration for purchase. There is a general claming of my soul during the process, one that cannot be replicated in other types of retail stores. Alas, I had to return to the confines of my prison cell before the "witching hour" (read: lockdown). That's the horrific life of a prison inmate.