Post No. 1,675

Well, I slept a little better last night. However, I instinctively woke up at 4am this morning. That's usually the time the Iraqi guy's limerant object takes the dog for a walk, then returns to hand-feed the pathetic little thing. Or, if Alan has a night off, he noisily prepares a snack at that time in the kitchen. I donned the AOSafety® Stow-A-Way® earmuffs for a true field test. Noise attenuation was pretty good. Unfortunately, the earmuffs are somewhat uncomfortable. I was not able to go back to sleep. So, I was groggy for most of the day. I suffered from major bouts of disorientation, which was very disconcerting.

At the library, I completed reading, "Mirage Men: An Adventure into Paranoia, Espionage, Psychological Warfare, and UFOs," by Mark Pilkington. The book is quite interesting, especially when extrapolating the dastardly concepts over the whole spectrum of what is deemed "disinformation." I was better able to understand why truth is so elusive.

I have to get used to punching in the number "56" in the age field on the console of the elliptical machine when initiating my cardio workout at the gym. The cardio equipment is able to monitor my heart rate and determine what range of exertion I am in. Mind you, I have been somewhat appalled over the past few years when I noticed that my target range has been decreasing. It's actually an easy task to calculate using:

THR = 0.8(220 - Age) beats per minute

Yeah, my heart rate should average about 130bpm in order to prevent a cardio event. Believe me, I cannot even break out in a sweat with a heart rate that low. Sheesh!

Ol' Lavahead Day 2010

Another visit to Hawai'i Kai went well. Moms and I ate lunch at Panda Express®. Later, moms served Welcome® vanilla ice cream for dessert. The rest of the day? The urban nomad fulfilled his usual benign functions and followed his routine itinerary as planned.

Sleep deprivation for the third day in a row has left me in a zombie-like state. There is always someone in Slob Manor (read: rental housing) making noise about every two hours after 10pm. The stupidity continues to cycle until 7am. Last night, the theater of stupidity actually commenced at one o' clock in the morning when the new idiot in the attached studio returned from parts unknown and decided to perform his laundry chores. Once I am awakened, I have great difficulty going back to sleep. The real problem is that Slob Manor has no insulation in its walls. And, the laminated and tiled floors are both acoustically "live." Every sound echos and amplifies in the "chamber of horrors." Anyway, due to my fatigue, I was not able to enjoy Ol' Lavahead Day.

I did manage to stop by City Mill in the Hawai'i Kai Towne Center and purchase a pair of $21 AOSafety® Stow-A-Way® earmuffs. Why? To protect my hearing? No, to protect my sanity. The noise reduction rating is only 21dB, which is much less than the claimed 30dB reduction with the cheap disposable CVS® foam earplugs. Unfortunately, I cannot use the foam earplugs on a constant basis without risking another earwax problem. Even more ridiculous is that, in the lower sound spectrum, all hearing protection is less effective. The lower spectrum is, of course, amplified superbly by the Slob Manor acoustics.

Back at Slob Manor, I assumed that the Indian guy has moved out completely. However, he seemed to have abandoned many of his possessions, taking only what he must have deemed to be valuable. The Iraqi guy and his limerant object were making a lot of noise upstairs in the second floor common area at 7:30pm. I figured that they were moving around the remaining furniture to suit their needs. Since my squalid room is right below the common area, I was privy to hear every thud amplified by the poor Slob Manor acoustics. I briefly tested my new AOSafety® Stow-A-Way® earmuffs. Sadly, the thuds are in the lower sound spectrum. So, the level of attenuation was still inadequate.

Joseph and his limerant object were having a grand ol' time upstairs. After all, they won. The Indian guy is gone. Bad ol' puddy tat! Now, they have the entire house to themselves. In a day or so, I expect to see the Indian guy's abandoned kitchenware removed and all of his former shelf space commandeered. The landlord does not seem to care. Alan doesn't seem to mind either. In any case, the writing is on the wall, so to speak. The situation is "going to hell in a handbasket" fairly rapidly.

I really don't know why I am wasting my time rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic, as it were. I have zero renter's rights in Slob Manor, all the while Joseph is increasing his domain. The quality of tenants has decreased significantly. Let's face it, nothing will get better. I need to "get my ass in gear" and find another place to reside. In the meantime, I have my AOSafety® Stow-A-Way® earmuffs to help me survive the ordeal.

Well, that's Ol' Lavahead Day in a nutshell. What is to be learned about the small microcosm that is depicted daily in the "blog"? Aside from the obvious rampant stupidity, we can infer that society-at-large is rapidly degenerating. The "inner animal" is ready to burst out after millenia of captivity by the now-failing "civilization" paradigm (refer to the "blog" of November 21st). We are rapidly approaching the crossroads, perhaps even the Rubicon.

Old Man Transition

Same ol' shit (i.e., Sunday urban nomad routine). No details necessary. When I arrived back at Slob Manor (read: rental housing), I opened the front door to find Alan laying on the couch in the living room. He was elated to tell me that the Indian guy is officially moving out of Slob Manor. In fact, the Indian guy transported some of his stuff this afternoon. Oddly, the company vehicle has not been driven since Friday. Apparently, the Indian guy's babe has been driving him around. Both the landlord and Alan suspect that the Indian guy had his own vehicle repossessed. However, I did not entertain the rumor.

The big question is whether Joseph, the Iraqi guy, will be asked to move upstairs. Or, will his limerant object have the entire second floor to herself. Actually, she has had the entire second floor to herself for over a month already. Effectively, the Iraqi guy and his limerant object will commandeer the entire house, just as I have predicted. Of course, Alan doesn't mind at all if the limerant object takes over the house. He'd gladly be her slave.

Well, I must begin acclimating myself to the world of senior citizenry. Thus, I have been observing all of the senior citizens around me during my urban nomad treks. I note everything about them: the way they dress, the way they walk, whether they must incorporate the use of prosthetics, and so forth. I watch their demeanor. I eavesdrop on their conversations, if possible. I observe what they eat. Everything, because the future is here, my friends. I am a decrepit senior citizen!

Old Man Noises

The highlight of the day was the regular monthly meeting with Shirley. The itinerary was nearly the same as last month (refer to the "blog" of October 30th) with the exception that Shirley met me at Koko Marina. We then ate lunch at Gyotaku in the Niu Valley Shopping Center. The reason? A discrete early celebration of Ol' Lavahead Day.

A sobering experience nearly ruined the day, though. Shirley had to purchase a few greeting card at Foodland before departing for Kailua. One of the Foodland employees asked Shirley if I was her father. Do I really look that old already? As much as I don't want to admit it, the truth is plainly visible for all to see. As one who is always searching for the truth, I must accept the truth when offered. Otherwise, I would be a hypocrite. With that in mind, I have decided to expedite the pruning of my massive hurdy-gurdy collection.

This morning, before I departed for Hawai'i Kai, the Iraqi guy gave me a couple of persimmons. At first, I refused because I have never acquired a taste for the fruit. On second thought, I accepted the gift graciously and will give it to moms next week. A few minutes later, I gave Joseph a new T-shirt that I was about to donate to Goodwill with other stuff. That's détente, my friends. I also gave Shirley a couple more of my useless possessions as part of my on-going divestiture program.

Uneventful, Very Uneventful

An uneventful day ... no crowds, no stress, no nothing. I followed the usual urban nomad itinerary, but I returned to Slob Manor (read: rental housing) before 3pm, much earlier than usual. Of course, I immediately locked myself in my squalid room. I ate the leftover turkey and dressing that I had saved from yesterday. I have to admit that the dinner was delicious.

A strange car was parked in the driveway, specifically in the Indian guy's usual spot. I observed that it was a company vehicle with the AECOM® logo on the side. The Indian guy is employed by the firm. However, the Indian guy was nowhere to be found. The landlord had mentioned that the Indian guy was supposed to come by to pay his overdue rent. The landlord was nowhere to be found either. From what I understand, the Indian guy may be moving out as early as this weekend.

Well, my massive hurdy-gurdy collection is now down to an all-time low of 120 titles. I don't know if it can get much lower than that. Otherwise, there would be no purpose for my expensive Seagate® FreeAgent Go® 640GB portable hard drive, eh?

No-Holiday Holiday 2010

I followed what would normally be a Sunday urban nomad itinerary because of the No-Holiday Holiday. An explanation of my disdain for this particular holiday is to be found in the "blog" of last year. Ala Moana Center was fairly crowded this morning considering that only three stores were open (i.e., Long®, Foodland, and the ABC Store). Not even the Makai Market was open. Sears® was also open later for a half-day. People are just itching to spend lots of money, eh?

After my workout at the gym, I ended up back at Ala Moana Center. The place was quite crowded by then. I reluctantly purchased a meatloaf local-style bento from Foodland. I had no choice since none of the food outlets were open. I had actually planned to stop in Waikiki because almost all of the stores were open there, but I thought better of the idea when I realized how unnerving the experience would be.

When I arrived back at Slob Manor (read: rental housing), I noticed that someone was cooking a turkey. I then decided to wash my Nissan® Frontier truck, a task that I do not care to perform anymore. The landlord briefly chatted with me while I was outside. She said that she cooked the turkey for all of us in the dysfunctional Slob Manor household. A few minutes later, Alan came back from grocery shopping. He had purchased a couple of pies and other goodies to go with the meal.

Since I already had purchased my dinner, I simply packed away a plateful of turkey and dressing to eat tomorrow. I ate my meatloaf dinner in my squalid room. Alan ate his turkey dinner alone in the dining area. The Iraqi guy and his limerant object were locked away in his squalid room. The landlord had tried to call them, but no one answered the phone.

The landlord was in and out a couple of times to finish the preparation of the turkey. She also told me that the Indian guy is most likely moving out very soon. The Indian guy has not been seen in Slob Manor for almost two weeks. He is apparently staying at his babe's place. I mentioned the news to Alan. He seemed joyful. However, Alan doesn't realize that Joseph and his limerant object will commandeer the entire house once the Indian guy is gone.

And, Alan just can't seem to believe that there's more going on between Joseph and his limerant object than meets the eye. Last night, the love birds (read: fuck buddies) spent hours in the second floor common area with the lights off. Then, the limerant object spent the night in Joseph's room. "But she said that she has never slept with him," Alan retorted. The floor in Joseph's room is pretty hard, I rebutted. He should also ask himself why Joseph and his limerant object have nowhere to go for the holiday. The limerant object is a local girl. Where's her family? Where are their friends?

Briana Banks

Well, I discussed all of that before in the "blog." The limerant object hangs out only with one person, that is, Joseph. She never goes out without him. She has no babe friends, which is very odd. The only person she calls on her cell phone is Joseph. What is even more odd is that she is a hottie, with the kind of Briana Banks figure (i.e., thin with a large bustline) that guys would kill for. Yet, there are no guys calling her. Nada. Does Alan notice any of that? Did he happen to observe the limerant object doing Joseph's laundry, something that she told Alan that she would never stoop low enough to perform.

I am not sure whether Alan knows that babes lie a lot, especially to guys. I have no idea why babes feel the need to lie incessantly, but they do regardless. It's even worse when a guy is in a "relationship" with a babe. I am certain that many guys would beg to differ. However, most of the dissenters are probably the typical "nice guy." Previously, in my ignorance, I attributed the dishonesty of babes to some kind of genetic disposition along with an unhealthy dose of Yahweh Triad (i.e., Judaism, Pauline Christianity, and Islam) nonsense. In my more enlightened state, I am more inclined to believe that babes have been "socialized" with stereotypical "female" characteristics as established by a chauvinistic paternal antecedent.

Later, Joseph cooked his own elegant meal for both himself and his limerant object. Both of them ignored the food that the landlord had prepared. From my squalid room, I could hear the limerant object swooning over her Iraqi chef. I could hear the hot oil sizzling as he deep-fried his tasty "terrorist" treat. I tried to imagine the sheer power that he exerted over his frying pan.

The highlight of my day was when I installed the much-awaited updates for MeeGo® on my Acer® Aspire One netbook computer. Sadly, none of the aesthetic problems were resolved, most of which were actually regressions from the last version. Maybe next month's updates will be more promising.

Tidbits of Yore

Another visit to Hawai'i Kai went well. Moms and I ate lunch at Zippy's. Later, moms served Welcome® vanilla ice cream for dessert. The rest of the day? The urban nomad fulfilled his usual benign functions and followed his routine itinerary as planned.

Back at Slob Manor (read: rental housing), Alan was up and about right after Joseph's limerant object returned from wage slavery at 4:30pm. He immediately began warming up leftovers in the microwave oven. Alas, Joseph also returned shortly afterward and commandeered the kitchen in order to cook another lavish Middle Eastern "terrorist" meal for his limerant object. Alan should be given credit for trying, I suppose. However, he is a victim of his own foolishness, as he admitted to the limerant object that he is not outgoing enough to make a move on an attractive babe. Although Alan's chances were slim to none to begin with, he has unwittingly ended the game for himself. Babes expect a guy to make the move immediately. End of story.

Well, when all else fails, bring out the tidbits. I have had to disable a few of the SpamGuard features for my one-and-only e-mail account. Apparently, a lot of legitimate e-mail was automatically deleted. Even my own custom filters was discarding legitimate e-mail. That's also the reason why it took me so long to create an account for the MeeGo® Forums. So, I now have to scour the SpamGuard and trash folders daily. What a mess!

I have perused a few of the advertisements for various "Black Friday" sales. I noticed that netbook computers will be on sale for $190 or less at several places. Why didn't I wait to purchase the semi-useless netbook? I can also purchase an electronic piggy bank for $10 on sale. I could really use a piggy bank, although I never have any cash on hand. Yeah, even I was tempted by some of the cheap useless crap. The satanic gargoyles, however, are going to go berserk on Friday. The buses will be crowded. The malls will be mobbed. Thank goodness, I'll be sitting in the inner courtyard at the library. I won't be spending a dime.

14 Ceh 12 Imix

"The failure to begin to deal with our bloated military establishment and the profligate use of it in missions for which it is hopelessly inappropriate will, sooner rather than later, condemn the United States to a devastating trio of consequences: imperial overstretch, perpetual war, and insolvency, leading to a likely collapse similar to that of the former Soviet Union." -- Chalmers Johnson

(12.19.17.16.1) Same ol' shit. No details necessary. I returned to Slob Manor (read: rental housing) at 4:10pm. Joseph, the Iraqi guy, was on his way out to parts unknown. Alan commenced cooking at 4:25pm. Yeah, he was reenacting the same scenario of exactly one week ago. Joseph's limerant object arrived at the usual time, just like clockwork. Unlike last Tuesday, she did not come back downstairs, not even to walk the dog. Eventually, at 5pm, Joseph returned to Slob Manor. Alan's plan to dine with the limerant object was thwarted. Subsequently, Alan was engaged in a slammin' soirée. Alan then monopolized the kitchen until he departed for wage slavery at 8:30pm, most likely to screw up Joseph's dinner with his limerant object. The limerant object sought refuge in Joseph's room until Alan was gone. Alan left a plate of food on the counter, no doubt for the limerant object, and took the rest with him. Stupid pet tricks.

What really perturbs me is the fact that Joseph, the Iraqi guy, would not even be here were it not for Shrub and his cronies. Well, I can't simply blame Shrub because the empire had been trying to put down Saddam, its puppet-gone-rogue, for a number of years. Joseph still has family in Iraq, which leads me to believe that he cannot return home and remain alive for very long. In other words, he is most likely a traitor to his people. He sided with the empire. Since he is currently destitute, Joseph could not have been much more than a low-level stooge.

Chalmers Johnson I always have more to write about, but I don't particularly enjoy writing for myself. Thus, I will only take the time to pay tribute to Chalmers Johnson, who passed on a few days ago. Johnson is most noted for his book, "Blowback: The Costs and Consequences of Empire." His last book, "Dismantling the Empire: America's Last Best Hope," is his final warning and wake-up call.

Post No. 1,667

Yesterday, the Iraqi guy left for parts unknown at 3pm. He left his limerant object at home alone in Slob Manor (read: rental housing). Not surprisingly, Alan spent a lot of time in the living room, from 4pm until 8:15pm. Joseph's limerant object came downstairs several times. And, of course, Alan was right there conveniently to engage in conversation. I was locked in my squalid room, thank goodness. Because of the tunneling effect of the shabby Slob Manor construction, I was able to hear their conversation clearly even with the door closed.

At one point, Alan mentioned that he was not an outgoing guy, so he is unlikely to make any moves on an attractive babe. I recognized the "cheap trick" for what it was, which is a true dork's way of hinting to a babe that he is interested in her. I am sure that Joseph's limerant object knows that something is up. She's probably denying her intuition because Alan should know that he's too old for her. Alan, of course, is waiting for the right moment to snap into action. He's waiting for a sign. He's already told me several times that he has established quite a "rapport" with the Iraqi guy's limerant object. What? Did you say, "There's no fool like an old fool"?

Another visit to Hawai'i Kai went well. Moms and I ate lunch at Panda Express®. Later, moms served Welcome® vanilla ice cream for dessert. The rest of the day? The urban nomad fulfilled his usual benign functions and followed his routine itinerary as planned.

Moms mentioned that Uncle Stoney had passed on a few days ago. The funeral will be conducted on the Big Island, so our immediate family will not be attending. Uncle Stoney was the last uncle on pops' side of the family.

As an addendum to the discussion about "quantitative easing" the other day, I am including a referral to Michael Hudson's latest article titled, "Why Paul Krugman Waves the Flag for Uncle Sam," that appeared on the Counterpunch site. An excerpt:

Unfortunately, most economists are brainwashed with the trivializing formula MV=PT. The idea is that more money (M) increases "prices" (P) – presumably consumer prices and wages. (One can ignore velocity, "V," which is merely a tautological residual.) "T" is "transactions," for GDP, sometimes called "O" for Output.

Some 99.9 per cent of money and credit is not spent on consumer goods (the "T" in MV = PT). Every day more than an entire year's GDP passes through the New York Clearing House and the Chicago Mercantile Exchange for bank loans, stocks and bonds, packaged mortgages, derivatives and other financial assets and bets. So the effect of the Fed's Quantitative Easing (monetary inflation) is to inflate asset prices, not consumer prices and other commodity prices.

Okay, you be the judge ... again.

Failed "Civilization" Paradigm

An uneventful Sunday would have come to pass were it not for a psychotic homeless bitch whom I encountered at Ala Moana Center this afternoon. I was sitting on one of the wooden benches near the Sears® automotive center. I had just finished a pint of Häagen-Dazs® Java Chip ice cream, which I purchased at Foodland just for sheer pleasure of being. The homeless ho' had stopped with her shopping cart (read: mobile home) right in front of me. Inside the shopping cart were all its worldly possessions. Crowning the pile was a filthy stuffed toy bear.

The bitch was obese with massive amounts of make-up caked on its contorted kabuki-mask face. It was wearing some kind of hideous dress that was stretched beyond the fabric's tensile strength by the bulging layers of blubber underneath. The ho' had somehow managed to pull a tight pink camisole over the dress. Oh, the horror! It asked me for money, then a "donation," neither of which I could accommodate. It then called me "stupid" and made obtuse references to "rape." Calmly and politely, I said, "Get the fuck outta here, you stupid fat bitch! Beat it!"

As the tub of lard lumbered off with its shopping cart, I calmly and politely called out, "Get the fuck outta here, you fat bitch, before I call mall security!" I repeated myself a couple of times for clarity. Then, I heard somebody yell to me to "shut up." I saw an old guy acting brave, beckoning me to challenge him. I walked over to him. He seemed to cower in fear, raising his walking cane up to defend himself. Of course, I calmly and politely had to explain to him about what had transpired. His poor wife even had to step between him and my humble self. Well, I certainly wasn't going to hit the old fool.

All in all, my ice cream experience was completely ruined. I attempted to summon the Mall Nazis (read: security guards). However, none were around, as to be expected. I had no choice but to depart because the Route 23 bus had arrived. I had planned to stop off at Subway® in the Aina Haina Shopping Center. With my appetite already ruined by the homeless Medusa, I thought better of the idea.

Oddly, I had been thinking all day about the failed "civilization" paradigm. The idea had come to me upon completion of the book, "Pornified," by Pamela Paul. However, after the incident with the homeless Medusa, I widened my horizon. "Civilization," as I have previously discussed, is a human-concocted paradigm. The main construct of the "civilization" model is the artificial barrier that has been erected between humans and animals. If I may be so bold, the whole purpose of "civilization" is to maintain that artificial distinction.

"Civilization" only works because of institutional policing and self-policing. Currently, what we are experiencing is the breakdown of self-policing behavior. What I mean by "self-policing" is that a participant in "civilization" (i.e., "society") is trained and indoctrinated from infancy to follow social rules, laws, morals, customs, and so forth. Growing into adulthood, the participant is then required to self-police behavior in a way that produces civility and common order. The breakdown is occurring because generational indoctrination had gradually fallen to the wayside. Participants are no longer trained thoroughly. Thus, the "inner animal" is allowed to manifest itself externally.

It comes as no surprise that we have observed a drastic increase in institutional policing. Frankly, with the breakdown of self-policing, the likelihood of a collapse of "civilization" becomes real. The dilution of social order will only increase as the "inner animal" fully and consciously returns to the human psyche. Left unchecked, each and every one of us will metamorphose back into our true animal state.

Rules, laws, morals, customs, and so forth were designed to suppress the "inner animal" by force. Suppression, however, does not mean obliteration. Suppression is a force of opposite magnitude that can keep the "inner animal" at a low static equilibrium. "Static" by no means indicates the complete absence of tension. Rather, extreme tension by two opposing forces is the only way that static equilibrium can be maintained. The stronger the "inner animal" tendencies, the more suppression must be applied.

Grasping the entire "inner animal" concept will serve to clarify the reasons why "civilization" is doomed to collapse. The rot commences at the basic level when self-policing becomes obsolete. Individuals begin to lapse morally, ethically, and socially which allows the "inner animal" to gain strength over the forces of suppression. Increased institutional policing will be required to enforce external suppression of the collective "inner animal," but will also lead to totalitarianism. A vicious cycle will ensue because the "inner animal" will resist containment especially by "extreme prejudice."

All social pathology, from crime to pornography addiction to alcoholism to marital infidelity to you-name-it, can be defined by the conflict of the "inner animal" and the human-concocted "civilization" paradigm. We humans are a species of animal. The longer we deny that fact, the more we will encounter ever-worsening problems.

As a Creationist (i.e., benign creation) and an agnostic, I should be last person to preach that we humans are animals. However, all of the non-existent readers of the "blog" who have followed my casual research will know the reasons. We are living by a paradigm that goes against our true nature. It is that very paradigm which will trigger our self-destruction.