Thursday, December 18, 2008

Then You Suddenly Manage...

It occurs to me that some day soon it happens that one day very often it comes to pass that...you can't remember a damn thing and every one else remembers every thing else differently.

Saturday, November 08, 2008

There Is No Title

Time and time again I have told you and you are not listening. Why are you completely ignoring what I have to say? WHY? Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. You must be the most stupid individual in the whole world. Must be. I mean, why can't you listen, do as I say, learn? What does it require? WHAT?
Must you fail forever? Must you never get any where? Where do you want to go what do you celebrate or what would you if you could? What could you change what would you change and would it all amount to a bunch of money? You'd only have a bunch of other problems and you know it.
Living life, it's change in relativity. Things change but they do not. Life itself is not fair. It sucks. But so too it is bliss ridden and you live life and move along and yet not so very far either. It happens. Things come and go. You're pissed out of the blue and happy there too. So, what do you make of that? It doesn't make a hell of a lot of sense, does it? So why would you waste your time trying to change it make it better or being depressed/suicidal about it either? It's a waste. It seems every thing is...it really does. Truly it must be that the most important thing to note that ultimately nothing matters...that that statement is perhaps the most apt and true of any...EVER!

Saturday, November 01, 2008

AND DON'T BELIEVE EVERY THING YOU THINK

AND DON'T BELIEVE every thing you think either. Yes, that occurred to me the other day when I thought up this rather profound way of describing things...actually, it didn't. What actually occurred was this: I read that statement the other day and it didn't make me disbelieve what I thought up the day prior to that. In fact, it cemented it into my consciousness, no, it didn't do that either. What it did do was make me think and allow me to breathe and relax and lately I haven't and lately I have but recently I've not been able to feel real good. I've had a spate of really feeling like shit and worrying like crazy about my mouth and the fact of my dental history being a depressing subject: More and More expense and the general DECAY of things...very depressing...
The thoughts of describing life are as follows:
Milly or Mike. Shiboo and Nothing like that, are or were or is the creator or creation of life. There's PISH and it's every thing. All things and nothing as well. NEVER MIND how it got here or how it decided to create things: life the universe and every thing. It doesn't matter, as you'll find out, nothing does. More on that later or now: Don't Worry. It's nothing to worry about because you cannot do any thing about it any way. It's a given.
PISH is every particle under the sun and is the sun and all aspects of all things. Say it's a consciousness as well. So too, there's YOU for example. YOU, yes, YOU READING THIS RIGHT NOW. Have you been here before? Will you "BE" again? Well, here now is a thing for the description of reincarnation. I don't believe in it or care but here we go.
YOU as a property or particle, a consciousness as it were are here now and have been many people and things and will be forever...so what? Who cares? You learn things? Come back again and again to discover what life/living is and all? YOU are also the PISH thing too...so, put that in your pipe and smoke it...or don't, because all of you have been doing this for millennia, and it's not helped or solved a thing at all. There is war/fighting/suffering and indignity, etc...and it's not necessary but some how it is because it's here and it is.
Like a rain drop. A single and individual thing...from a lake or pond or whatever it was before to the rain drop/rain and then puddle, pond or whatever all over again...or snow...and it melts and again...back to the whatever. This is this. This is all of us, all of the properties and all.
And all our thoughts feelings, etc. they're just what are as a result of all the right elements combinging to do this...and then, when the combination is over, we will be. All our thoughts will be too. All of our emotion, thinking, consciousness, etc. it will all be absorbed back into the cosmos as it were. Back to PISH or whatever what have you.
What is, is; people coming and going and thinking and feeling and though we call these things what is and what isn't and all, it's perhaps and probably the same phenomena, explained in our language and receptors of reality as we see, but will probably be the same thing over and over and over again...with no real change or "IMPROVEMENT" or what as that...and it's not important. It doesn't really matter. So in the end or whatever, you and I don't really have to be so any thing. We don't have to be so pro or against any one or thing...that we see hear feel. We don't have to be really. We are, but so what?
This could be depressing if one thought of it so, but it doesn't have to be. It can just be accepted.
It came up to me this afternoon. I had thought of how to express all of this. It came out differently than I had intended and that's okay because the basic gist of what I was thinking the other morning as I woke up and began to describe life reality, is here.
It came to me again the statement in the William Faulkner novel and I think I'm getting it right: "If I could choose grief over nothing, I would". I think it's from WILD PALMS, and is quoted in a Jean Luc Godard film, A Band Apart Or Breathless, I'm not sure. For me. I think I would prefer NOTHING. I don't mind feeling blank every now and again. It's comforting in a way...can save me a lot of trouble, pain, grief...

Thursday, September 25, 2008

DON'T BELIEVE EVERY THING YOU HEAR...OR READ...

At the risk of cutting my own arguement, I must say: NO, GODDAMMIT! NO!!! If I were to make a video for You Tube right now, I'd cue the sound byte from the Tom Leykis program from radio to blurt: NO, GODDAMMIT, NO! And then I'd say, as my Introduction To Broadcasting teacher at Loyola Marymount said many eons ago: Don't Believe Everything You Hear...or see, or for that matter, read. He began the session with the serious description of a device called a Lumagraph...we duly made the diagram as he put it up on the chalk-board. Well, now, aint that special? WTF?!
Did you swallow hook line and sinker that crap BUSH spewed on TV last night? I refused to watch it. Why? Not because I had to get up at 3 A.M. and go swimming in my pool and make it to work on time at 6.30 A.M. Pacific...a few hours later, after the requisite reading and writing in my car, etc. No. But even though those are very nearly excellent reasons, I deemed his drivel beneath me. I have considered this buffoon or arrogant arse, beneath my reckoning. At least in the sense that every one knows this 700 ++++++++ bail out, is a pay back to his buddies, and nothing more. Every one with a scintilla of sense knows this. Ask John/Jane Q Public on the street, and they'll concur, but NO ONE and I mean NO ONE has the guts to do any thing about it. NO ONE WILL. We will allow this bull-f-sh-- to pass and suck it up, like sucking up the sawed-off, double barrel, over and under, 12 gauge shot-gun, with triple aught buck, and blowing our collective craniums off our brain-stem/torsos. Gladly, it would seem. Here, you doggone idjit-galoot. Eat these mudpies. Oh, yessssss. I luv-em, I luv-em. More Please.
I say NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO!!! Shove this Bush where the sun doesn't shine. Stop this idiotic moron from ruining our country more than he and his minions already have. STOP. STOP. STOP! NOW.

Saturday, September 20, 2008

OKAY

Okay, so I've not written in here in a while. They tell me that doing this, it removes from the self the necessary energy needed to write...stories...that which we've not been composing of late...but have been living...there have been meet & greets and 10 year anniversaries at work and much much to much food and not nearly enough drink...but, hey, it's not all about not having sex, is it? Could be, could be, but one thing is for sure, too much of it is not enough...not enough of it is plenty, and some day some way, some where, some how, I'm going to figure it all out, or ... or not. But, either way, I'll write about it.

Saturday, September 13, 2008

PORTRAYAL OF ODIOUS ACCOUNTS

Can't believe she just left me like that. High and well...vapid. You know, nothing. There is nothing. None of them respond. And when I do reach out, it's too late. Shit. Is this the best I can do? I don't completely like them...not like that. I mean, I don't want marriage or babies. Not those two monsters. NO WAY! But a serious committed relation-ship? Yeah, sure, I'd like that. It would be good to try on for size, because I aint making it here alone. Not like this in the big house of my spiritual birth. No. Sure, there have been writings from here and caused from here, but it's over, done, gone...we HAVE to make some thing out of all this and we're not and it's depressing. The women come and go like wraiths in a dimly lit bar in an unincorporated area of Orange County, California, where the various law enforcement agencies who can cover it, out number the reivers.
The clothes they stack up, just like the books and the dust and memories. Can't get enough of them that they don't choke my room like the ginormous amount of piled high shoes make me stumble and fall from time to time. I kind of like it like that I guess I'd say. Must, else wise, we'd change it, no? Right. Change. Change the Change that you're going to Change...Change...Change...Frack!
Dammit! I'm lost again. I am always always lost, and this proves it. There's no hope for me. No hope. I won't do any thing ever again.
NO MORE will I ever have a great meal at a run of the mill restaurant that features local beer and an open pit grill. Great food and atmosphere but way too high in the prices...no one to go there with...no one to run with any more...but when was there ever that? When? When did it all end? When?
I'm the ghost. I look at the old phone book and there's no one in there I have a current name (last name/married) address or phone number for. It's depressing. Bothers me. Who to relate to? Who to see? Who calls? Who cares? NO ONE. It doesn't matter. Oh well. So what. Whatever. Never mind...moving on...moving...even that's a farce. Moving. That won't cure or save or salvage any thing. Not one iota. Not a bit. Just do your thing and get on with it. Get out already I guess is the thing. Get out. Move. After you've done it, move. You're not needed/wanted/of "concern" and so should be removed, just like a wart, the carbuncle you had on your neck a few months ago...funny thing that...it dissolved, back into the skin. I'll never look at a pimple the same way, ever again...and just wish we could stop shoving metal objects in my ear to clear out ear wax. It hurts. I don't need to do that...need glasses and sex. Must move on with that...but not do any thing stupid to get it...nothing so desperate as that. Never. NEVER!! NEVER!!!!

Thursday, September 04, 2008

WHAT I DON'T HAVE

WHAT I DON'T HAVE AND WHAT YOU DON'T HAVE is definitive assurance that the incoming president will abolish the "Patriot" act. And that is a shame. Still can your government detain and imprison any one for any reason the Executive Branch of the government deems "necessary" and not read them any "rights" or tell them why they're being incarcerated.
What you and I don't have are any guarantees that what we do today or tomorrow just won't land us in jail, for an unending term, for whatever reason, and we won't be told why and we won't have to be allowed representation if we cannot afford it and so what and too bad and tough sucker that's just the way it is. You don't like it, live some where else. Kill yourself, etc. Well, I say, F-that F!!
What I don't have right now is a beautiful Korean woman who loves me for who I am and a job that pays the mortgage or rent (if I'm a complete idiot), and in general, takes care of me or any "family" I think I might want to begin, if I'm so dispositioned. No, I don't have that. O miserable me, eh? Who cares?
In a world where Karl Rove is allowed to exist. Where he can crap on television and we're made to be aware of it, we suffer endlessly. We cannot function like decent human beings. We cannot post how stupid and contradictory the public speakers are...but only the Daily Show can on a comedic vein...well, that's just not right. I mean, sure, yeah, right. They get it, I guess that's cool. We're still getting free speech, I mean some one is...but hell, to see these trucks with the old' W in 04 stickers...oh scheiss!! What in the HELL? How can there be that many idiots in the world? They give them the ability to vote! IT'S CRAZY!!! I just hope that my recent change in political party for the Vote in NOVEMBER which I think is the most important vote in our life time, will come through. I some how think that it won't work. I somehow think that something will come along and totally screw it up. I don't know why, but I do. It hurts me to no end. I hope my absentee ballot arrives soon, some kind of confirmation from Neal at the Voting thing in Santa Ana, says, hey buddy, I got your paper work. Soon I'll send (My office workers will.) you your stuff for the new party affiliation you now have, and you'll be able to vote as you wish in November.
What I don't have but you probably do, is the knowledge and faith and confirmation that you can have your cake and eat it. I don't. Having a roof and clothes and work, I do have, but not any satisfaction that my work is of any use to humanity and it's nothing to do with giving back to the world that's allowed me to live in it so far. I guess I owe it something, but maybe I don't. Maybe we have it all wrong.
John and Robert and Malcolm and Martin gave their lives for this country. Jesus indicated that he gave his life for your soul. We're told to live like Jesus. What, are we to publically commit suicide? What the hell? I don't consider that's the right thing to do. I want a public life, sure, want to be popular enough to have companies in Japan want me to sell pens and shirts and pads of paper for them. DEFINITELY I do want that. Desperately I do need that, right now in fact. But, I have to be POPULAR first. I have to have some kind of gimmick or something, right? I have to create some kind of stink. But, if it involves influencing people to commit murder for me, a la Charlie Manson, forget about it, you know? I don't need that. I don't consider the Beatles that good, that they're telling me to start a race riot/war. I really want world peace and I really want jetpacks and understanding and for every one going to have precisely what they want, whenever they want, and for there to be no more suffering, no more. FOREVER. If I ruled the world, it would not be like it is now. I mean, if I could change things, people would be happy right fracking now, and there'd be no doubt that every thing would be okay.
BUT, we don't live in that world. We live in this fracked up one. And this one is supposedly by some people precisely made by GOD and it's done this way on purpose and it's perfect in and of itself so that we are missing something to get us to search and find god and genuflect and bow down and every thing like this, because we're not worthy, etc.
To want is to suffer. To not want, isn't. Okay. I don't want any thing. I feel fine don't I? I'm perfect now, aren't I? I don't need any thing. I don't have a care in the world and what I don't have doesn't matter one iota. Great. Perfect. Done. Can I just die now?

Friday, August 22, 2008

FORGET ABOUT ME

"Don't you, forget about me. Don't. Don't. Don't. Don't you, forget about me. As you walk on by..."
--Simple Minds, Don't You (Forget About Me)

Well, of course you will. You're 18, you're 25, and you are just entering adulthood, and like I was, I saw many things, drank, and would cruise around the life and not know much of any thing, but, who was that older guy who...hung around and...life passes on by and who cares? It's too difficult and painful to consider and it's all so depressing, so let's not let it cloud our minds or souls. That's negative. Please, let it go.
RIGHT, so, let it go, and fade away...let it go...I think of U2 right now. That line from that song because I was just researching Stranger, Stranger In A Strange Land, you looked at me like I was the one who should run. Which are to the best of my ability, lyrics of the U2 song. I was looking for the 1961 published book by Robert A. Heinlein. The year I was born.
I hang out with people who are decades younger than I. I am the same age as some of their parents. No wonder none of the girls will "get" with me. Still or living again at home and all, it's an embarrassment. Having no "game" or whatever the hell it is I need for sex, whether cold and impersonal or deep and meaningful, I go with out, as I assume does most of humanity, and whether it's good or not, I consider that, maybe if more of us got it, maybe we as a people, humanity in general, would be better off. Not for procreation sex, but "RECREATION", and "sanity". But, what the frack do I know? Most people who marry and this inevitably kills their sex life/drive, (Not all I assume, but, a lot.) don't bother with it as much. You got the security of the familiar. You can "more or less" get it whenever, it's not much of an issue, and no WAY do you discuss it much, whether with your peers or spouse. It's "done".
So, the point: I want now to get along with others more and have sex and have it not be such a fracking big deal. I don't want it mentioned here in blogs and all such as that. I don't need it. I would since I don't have any thing, to be able to move on as if I do. I mean, for what I wanted out of life and what I don't have, then, well, now, I want a track changed, and I demand of life, to be able to MOVE ON!!!

Friday, August 08, 2008

I GOT UP, WENT SWIMMING, AND ALL I GOT FOR MY TROUBLE...

AND ALL I GOT for my trouble was this quote:

Quote of Note
“It's the Olympics. If you can't get up to swim in the morning, don't go."

--Michael Phelps, Swimming

And so there you go. You can't watch it live. Maybe you can catch it on Telemundo at 9 A.M. PDT, and perhaps you can't. You have to work. I on the other hand got up at 2:45 A.M. and went swimming. I got up and got going. Had some water and juice and performed Tai Chi Chuan (Yang, Long Form.), and then went to the store to get a beer and crisps. I have a headache now I'm so pissed off because I haven't been able to see the Olympics LIVE and am thinking now: fuck it and fuck them. Fuck it all. Get to reading now and maybe taking off to the local restaurant for some eggs, bacon, toast, tea, and a host of other good things before storming off to see a movie I might like. Something to do with fruit and the speedy delivery thereof (Pineapple Express). Who knows.

Less Than Enthusiastic...

We are less than enthusiastic about the internet. It's not living up to its promises of ubiquity, re: portable phone hook-up ease. The irony here is that this is being written and saved auto-magically every minute or so, by a on-line program. In less than two hours now the live feed by "?" will broadcast here (The most eastern portion of the "western" United States-So. Cal. is farther east than say Washington State.) the opening ceremonies of the Summer Olympics at Beijing, China. Looking forward to it, 5.08 A.M. will be 8.08 P.M. their time, supposedly. Friday still the guess. Whatever. Was thinking it was yesterday or something like that. Maybe tomorrow already. It can't really be live can it? Has to have a delay, not just for terroristas accionnes, but just because you just can't get it real/instant, right there just yet.
It's like the internet. There's a bit of a delay. Just like the ubiquitous jet-pack every one was "supposed" to have by now. And what about flying cars? Uber-ridiculous. Some one has to have "control" over all these things and that's what's holding us up. Sure, the internet is great for some communications, it's massive chaotic flows, but when it's just drivel for the most part, why bother? When computers themselves after a few days of scurfing (A combination of scurge surf and frustration: Requisite yelling, screaming, and cursing the life out of life.) and every thing's slow. You get a virus and it's awful...slow...and all the while you have safeguards and walls and scans and software updates and still it goes the speed. You have to pay inordinate amounts to get faster connections: T2 or whatnot as that. They advertise stuff you can't get: FIOS, etc., over and over and over again. It's frustrating to no end. You just want to kill yourself, because you're in the way with your stupid wants and needs (That every one else thinks are ridiculous: Double Ring cell phone choices, WI-FI phone, VOIP on it as well, 10 hour battery use.), and the very fact you write that publically, is insane as well. Stupid. Idiotic. If one could write the ultimate be all/end all letter, as to why you jumped or shoved the knife or took the pills or whatver, it still would not be enough. It's stupid. This whole thing is. Forget about it, no? Move on.
Take the most lame arsed idiot in the world, what have you got? This one. This one person. And why can't he make something of himself? And what he has made, so what? What of it? It's nothing. Dust in the wind. All is vanity.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

You're A Waste Of Time

You're a waste of time so best be moving on. You're a waste of time and being with you it irritates my teeth. They begin to itch, chatter, whine. I can't stand what you stand for. I have to get out of here. I have to leave. You're a waste of time. I can't stand being in your presence. I have to get out of here. You're a waste of time.

Friday, June 27, 2008

If This Thing Were Only Too Good

Tried to read and tried to sleep. I didn't get much of the latter done, but could and that would frack up my night and so I've been forcing myself to stay awake...reading...writing...and creating all this hell of conscience with my mother, willful and unrelentingly demanding things be done my way, then storming off to go do whatever I want, even though it's changed. Well, so what? It's all worked out perfectly. She's got done what she wanted, and I got done what I wanted. So, there! It's perfect. People don't always get along. Some times there's no compromise. Fixed what I fracked up several weeks ago, but we'll really see tomorrow when I get to actually try it. Broke a pipe or two and finally got to where I could fix it. But fix it I did. Now again I'm hungry and I don't want to eat what I'd eat at work on the weekend. (Turkey Sandwiches and Chips.) I want to go and get something out. I want to get laid. I don't have the money. I have it but I must save it for bills coming soon. I have a book and I have some fumeric acid coming for my skin, and it's not here, none of it, yet I'm getting catalogs from these health companies for products galore, but I don't want any thing from them, I didn't ask them to send these things...it's horrible. What to do now? Drink more water. Take some Silver Colloidial...think about the Anime Expo next week you have a pre-paid $25.00 One Day Pass for. You need cash for attending that. Cash money to drive up to the Willow Street station in Long Beach, and then cash for food, eating breakfast before going...and then some there...eating...and oh, of course, your real reason for going: BUYING MANGA!! Bring your list of wants...be open to other possibilities...bring your camera too...get a photo of you and some hot young manga chick in costume as one of those, you know, manga "heroes", I dunno. Whatever. Sheesh. Get a life. Do something. Move. Get out. Close storage place. New job, real job. Get rid of this fracking stiff neck and shoulders. Pain in the arse from sitting here typing too. It's horrible!! What to do, what to do, what to do?

Friday, June 20, 2008

Believing As They Say We Should Believe

If we have it so that, well, we are sentient beings and we have a soul that lives on to either be punished for all time or not...
If we have nothing to look forward to, because, there's nothing after, that whatever consciousness we have now, dissipates into the cosmos just as it appeared as we came in/developed and grew tired and moved on...
Believing as they say we should, what more is there to it? What does there need to be? Why must there be any thing? Before? During? After?
It seems to me that all of this, every thing, is just a time waster, something to do while we're here...some kind of semblance of "order" by and by to keep civil and not wipe us totally out while we're here futzing around...but we should be believing as they say we should believe, it's just a control thing, trying to make sense of things and order life as if we all had some kind of control over it. Which, I don't consider we have much spin on. Not much any way. It's like gardening in a whirlwind, grasping ghosts with shovels. What do you believe? Why? Isn't it all just by the by with what your parents raised you as, your culture demanded, and that, if you were born elsewhere and in a different time, you'd certainly believe and actuate other visions and other dreams. Maybe there's nothing else in all of this but this. That, this is all there is, and, to consider and think and wish and hope is just ridiculous, just another futz around with the precious amount of staying-ness (time) we have here. It'll all be gone soon, all according to some crazy plan of you doing what you do plus what others are doing and...help yourself, good luck, we're all going to die and that's about it. Boompf, nothing more. No sense being bothered by any thing really, is there? Yet we do. We are. We create these worlds and messages and myths and realities...all so that we won't be so scared of the inevitable I think we all realize deep deep down: WE ARE ALONE AND FRIGHTENED TO DEATH OF ... DEATH ... and that's the one last thing going we have to conquer in life, of a way of going where we go through experience, realizing things, unique to us, but in many ways common to all...more or less...and then we're gone. Oh well. So what. Why the beef or comment or in some cases: bother.

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Going To Take A Shower

Hot, going to take a shower. Have to. Tired. Must. Also, for all this "dehydration", must drink: WATER. And, reduce this beer intake. Not that I'm drinking heavily or anything, but I am steady of late, my other supplemental skin related pills aren't taking any effect with my red bumps on my skin, the damn "psoriasis" or whatever the hell it might be. And on that score, I've got some FUMERIC ACID coming in a few days, that will I hope REALLY do the trick in regards getting rid of this dreaded skin difficulty. It's supposedly what the "problem" is with the body that has this condition, it's a lack of Fumeric Acid. And, meanwhile, one is not supposed to drink or eat a lot of high sugar foods, etc. Don't dehydrate basically.
Okay, so, shower, hydrate, skin drinks water...why not? Moving on. Moving on...now something else to do...sleep in some, and move on from here. Move on.

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

RE: Emails...

Friend of mine sent me an email to my regular address and it contained a link to a bit of movie of Henry Miller, the famous writer, and he talked to the camera on a movie set of New York City, talking about New York, and what a hell hole it was for him as a kid. Weird. I'd never seen it before. I'd never heard him speak before and I've never actually read any of his books, though through the whatever it is you know someone, I've known him.
I wrote to my friend to thank her and I was out of it, I just sent the email and I didn't even write any thing...so, this first email attests to the fact and then describes in detail my life that day...

"Crazy, eh? About like that recent missive about Miller...yes. He's like you'd think he'd sound...and, why the movie set any way? Hmm. Interesting....Like me just now. I could have sworn I'd gotten up at 7.45 AM Wednesday morning. And I was to report to work on Wednesday, at 6.15 AM, and thought I was late.(It's 7:48 PM Tuesday, 6.10.08 as I originally wrote this.) I called work, told them I'd be in, in about an hour. Sorry I'm late...and they told me I...it's...are you...It's Tuesday...Did you wake up from a nap just now? Uhhh...Yeah, thanks. See you tomorrow. Good Night.
The light out my windows these days of night and morning low clouds, is just the same here (overcast) and I couldn't tell that I just went to sleep at 6 and then woke up, bright as day, clear in the muddle as can be, an hour and 45 minutes later, but thinking that, I'd slept the night through, just like I'd planned.
I was kind of pissed. Stupid assed alarm clock. I'd been meaning to throw it away, get another one....dammit!!! But, it's only an hour or so later. Okay. Buena Suerte, good luck, getting back to sleep now and then, getting up at 3 and getting to work at 6.15 AM.....Wednesday."


AND THEN MY NEXT MISSIVE ATTESTING FURTHER TO THE FACT:


"AND NOW @ 3.07 am, the alarm clock rings. I got up a few minutes earlier, got rid of that water that had been bursting the dam, and laid back in bed...just, unmotivated....and then somehow I needed to write to continue this odd story, and sure enough, this time, the alarm rang. Sometimes the hours just don't carry, and I'd been worried that I'd over sleep. Hate being late...you're really in trouble if you don't show, don't call in...big points against your name where I work. A real nazi prison concentration camp. But seriously folks; if you don't like it, you can always leave, right? Any thing? Any place? Any where? Hmmm. I like it all right...just wish, I's doing something else....what I don't know, besides writing...they don't even pay enough for monorail piloting....how much less me and my writing....
I'm just saying...
---WILLIAM

Saturday, May 31, 2008

Freak Angels

Oh, and by the way folks: Here's a great FREE online comic you ought to check out:

http://www.freakangels.com

(Sorry, you'll have to copy and paste it yourself. This blog deal does not at least at this time approve/accept the link/live.)

Warren Ellis written story and Paul Duffield artwork. Warren Ellis approved this link, and my pasting it into my blog.

It appears every Friday, and is a very interesting tale.

--William.

Thursday, May 29, 2008

The Peak Performance of Peaches McCormic

Harvey Korman's gone. "You're a Tomato!" director among a myriad of other things: Tootsie too; Sydney Pollack, has left as well. Now what?
When you're feeling blue, read something really sad. 1 Liter Of Tears, by that Japanese girl who had some kind of spinal disease, heart wrenching stuff! The title, spelled Litter and Liter, should be by my account spelled: Litre. Is the diary entries of this girl from 12 to 20 years of age and then a couple of entries by her mother and a doctor. Sad. Horrible. Tragic. It'll make you stop feeling sorry for yourself, I hope. And it is the best one can hope for, it is the peak performance of peaches mccormic. What we can all ascribe to when things go rotten in our lives. When the life long dreams we have cannot seem to be materialized, etc. That kind of thing. When car accident after mortgage forclosure after tornado and earthquake and child gets killed by bus, etc. all that gut-wrenching stuff occurs.
We feel so sorry for others it seems some times. Some of us only feel sorry for ourselves. But, it is hoped, not all the time. I do know that we do have to take care of our needs but have to have in mind the needs of others as well. We have to be careful as we gently tread along.
Just a note. Hello. Hope you're there. Hope all is well. Hello. If you need me, all you need is to call.

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

GREETINGS FROM THE MAYAN RIVIERA

It's warm here but very nice. The breeze blows constantly. Can't think of a single place else I'd rather be, except maybe alone. Yes, family vacation. It's fine, and it's a blessing and wonderful to behold all this time with the fam and all...to travel and get into and out of places people I may never ever see again. Great. I do however need alone time. I do however need time to spend with and money to do it with, to get into and out of other people's lives, the people I can meet here only if I go alone. But, be that as it may, it's great to be here with the fam.
Spent 12 plus hours to/from Chichen Itza, the last known place of the Itza tribe. Fantastic. HOT. Melting in the sun. Said you'd better go in the morning or night. Catch the show they put on at night. Extra bills for the headphones to hear and understand what's going on.
Read some site some where about the place that said that it's 12.22.2012 that the world ends when the snake, the plumed serpent Kukulkan comes out of the ground of the playing field. No. Every solstice, the snake, the plumed serpent, Kulkukan, rises either up or down on the main pyramid as a trick of the light and shadow of the pyramid and the sun and shadow, on the building on the solstices, happens every one. So, no big deal there. (I just can't remember which occurs when: which solstice it comes up and which one the "snake" or serpent Kulkukan, comes down.)
The big deal will be on the solstice of 12.21.2012 because there will be a complete solar eclipse that year (unknown date) and all of the planets in our solar system will align, making a cross in the "sky". So, in the day, some where on the globe, there will be the shadow of the moon? Or what, that will fall on the sun, blocking its view from those lucky/unlucky persons on earth, and with luck: good/bad, the folks looking up in their night sky, will be able to view the "cross" pattern of all of our planets.
The Mayan calendar will on that date 12.21.2012, will return to zero...the number that they created for the world and one that all of the people on this globe use to this day.

Monday, May 12, 2008

The Neck

My mosquito bite as a "friend" calls it, is going down. It's not so much with the pus ooze any more. Washing it this morning for the bandage change, it bled a bit...more blood than ooze, so, yeah, washing it out. It's washing itself out. I hope to see some more...Well, no. But, you know, I want more improvement tiempo mas...you know, as time goes by.
The local witch doctor Doctorio Z has graced me with some bottles of things and will have another for me manana, all so that I may clean myself up in due course and move on away from bandages and worry. I really need to get rid of that scheiss! That's the part what makes every thing "worse", eh? Worry stress, your body gets ill.
A little rain. A lot of thunder. It's ever so nice. Need to sit out more on the porch and enjoy the peace, quiet, and cool breeze. Las Brisas. Muy Bueno. Very good indeed. More later and or on another day perhaps. Tah!

Saturday, May 10, 2008

Back Home Again With All The Dogs

Three years ago almost to the day--off by a few--I was here last and was in much better shape physically, I mean as far as not being visited by a little present from nature saying, Hola, welcome to middle age. And so now you have an infection in your neck which is producing pus that's the consistence of the interior of someone's implants--sticky and gooey--and just quite a mess...bacteria in there and it's producing the stuff right quick and who knows, may even have to be lanced again if it doesn't clear up, dry out, soon...what a mess. What a mess...2.5 cm deal...quite the scary thing for me. This kind of crap never happens to me, you know? Sure, every thing's perfect, I'm spoiled beyond belief, and have had for the bulk of my life both my parents to see me through. Got a lovely sister that I think loves me more than I love myself. It's incredible.
Here we are in Ajijic, Mx. and just settling in. Getting into the Ex-Pat life here with all the new locals. Gabachos people. Gabachos. Not gringos. They don't call you gringos. You call each other gringos. Numbnuts. Pretty nice people over all...every one here I mean. It's great.
Excellent food and drink and it's nice and relaxing. I've needed this for quite some time. Must get sorted a bit and into the hay...
Ta-tah for now, space travelers.
Amigo mio, mantengase con sed
Stay thirsty my friends.
---William.

Friday, April 25, 2008

HOW ABOUT IT?!

Okay so there you go, you know? You don't want to but you do any way. How do you stop it? There doesn't seem to be an answer. What do you do in spite of every thing any way? What is the answer? There isn't one. Okay. What do you do? How do you resolve it? HOW ABOUT IT?
I mean, you know? What do you do? There must be some means for ameliorating the pain the anguish the frustration the compounded stupidity that is life some times...you know? Get a girl and secretly, to yourself, fuck with the anger and frustration in you and have the thought the saying: I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU?
You know, one of those (You don't really hate your partner) really good "hate" fucks? Do you know what I mean? I don't. I don't have clue one. I'm not in the program. I'm not part of the parade. I'm not involved with the rest of the festival. I'm not involved. I know nothing about it. Sure. Run. Go running with your dog. That's that beautiful slightly older Chinese chick on the sidewalk just now, with her pet, and black shorts, tight, beautiful...sweet scene...running...ah, shit. Fuck. That's right. Hate fuck. Running down the sidewalk just as fast as you can...trying to get off the fucking hate hell shit fuck there is in life, out of your system...out of life...to exhaustion to peace...like what you experience now and again after a good hot shower...relaxing in clean comfortable cotton clothing...warm sun or not....gray cool skies out and you're inside with a cup of hot cocoa/chocolate (mint) and marshmallows....and sipping right there next to the window in a comfortable chair and great book. Journal and perfectly working favorite medium point fountain pen....ah, yeah. PEACE. Grant Us This Peace. Please. FOREVER....at some point in the future, let us please have this peace and when it comes then, please, please, please, please, PLEASE!!!!!! Never let it go away, EVER!!!!!!!

Monday, April 21, 2008

CHECK THIS OUT

If true, this really sucks. Yes, the world...if you...and they...but you...



http://www.luclatulippe.com:80/2008/04/18/book-publisher-in-china-plagiarizes-and-steals-illustrations/


This artist had a website and this content was taken and made into a book in China....supposedly...and you know, no one is getting rich off it I guess...but, the person is getting exposure, eh?

What price to pay for fame.
Oh it's easy to say over here, well, I'd rather not have my peace lost if I have to have my self out there and on 24/7 just to make a living...f-that, you know? But, with issues of international art, stealing...well, shouldn't it all be free? Not if someone is taking your stuff and selling it.
Only is that wrong? I don't know. Don't even know if any of this is the truth.

Friday, April 18, 2008

In Times Like These

In times like these we learn to live/love/learn again. In times like these. These are the crucial hours where you're alone and you have no one...not one soul to turn to or talk with to even conjecture a theory about a premise of life, or any thing, that, could save yours...nothing and no one....and you rely again on your self and you are saved. You set your self free as it were...
Something happens. You have time. You write in a journal. You release the hell that is within side you and you are free. On paper the recording of the thoughts and feelings and utter sickness is vacated...and some how, you are free. Some how it can if you believe, save others. Who knows? It could save you at a later date. Never know. Never know. I hope so. I hope. That is all. That is all.
I go to bed. I go to sleep. Now. I have to. I cannot do this any more. In times like these. I have an idea of what to do tomorrow. Search that book off place again. I want a book. I want a manga or three. I usually find something. I can. I must sleep (NOW!) and I cannot afford and to be quite honest I have plenty to read here...but not for me to do now, NOW, be inspired...to ... to do more reading...not like the manga the fiction therein where I feel alive that way...the Chinese writer...the words the work the stuff like that...what is it? What? What makes the magic happen like that? Where can I find it in what I have? How? How can I get it in re-reading stuff like Spider Jerusalem's tale in the comics I have...and move on? Move on. Move on. Move on....and not consider that these those recurring thoughts like: Get the Fool Moon book by Jim Butcher. Look for it at all the used book stores around you...stop. STOP. STOP wasting time like that. After the juice. After the whatever what have you, get to the damn thing, get to the coffee shop and sit and read with the Berlin Alexanderplatz. Get the bagel and cream cheese. Sit. Drink cool tea. Get Greek food. Relax...sit...sleep. Now, sleep. Go to bed and sleep now. Maybe you can stop shaking your leg up and down like a sewing machine and sleep. Shit. What a day. What anger. What that crap did and what it does...man...relax. Sleep. Be unaware. Oh oblivion, where are you?

Friday, April 11, 2008

Triumph and Disaster

"If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same;"
---Rudyard Kipling
YES, that's the ticket. If. If you can...if...but secretly, maybe, you can't. Most of us rarely can, and it's not from a lack of trying, but despite that, we often fail...though it's true we often succeed!
Best deal is to move. Move along and treat most elements like you're blind or deaf in one ear or something like that. Yeah, sure, why not? Why bother fretting or complaining all the time? Why bother thinking all the time? Singing or whatnot such as that? If you do any one thing too much...that's just that...it's too much on one subject/topic. You have to have balance. You have to be able to do many things....and maybe that means master of none, I don't know, I don't care. It doesn't matter either way, I'll bet. Just doesn't matter.
I like to read. I love to actually. I love to write. I love to go to bookstores and pick out books. Buy them with endless supplies of cash and gumption...to buy at will, totally free, and fully expect I'll read all these things and enjoy the hell out of them. For the most part, I do. But, it's getting to them that's the major pain in the ass.
Ran into Claudia today. It's been a year since she left, and what were the chances I'd be there at that coffee shop and we'd meet and chat and all such as that? Or, that we'd been meeting at work where we used to work and meet and hug and say hello and chat? What? What are/were the chances?
I got the Killawatt-3 unit for DAD today as well as a book: Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio, by Pu Songling. Just a book of stories...some so old...from a man who wrote for the kings...way back when....way back when....1640-1715. (Never published in his lifetime. There's another book as well: Story of the Stone, by Cao Xueqin, (In 5 volumes!) which, if I like these, I might get.)
Went by a used book store twice for manga books at a discountlooking, looking, looking...trying to find something else to buy, to read, though I really didn't/don't need it. IT'S CRAZY! Must go somewhere to have my head cleared. I have a craziness. I have $173.00 in my bank and must make it into next week.
The Lab that had as their job my ground off tooth impression, blew it. So, I have another 2 weeks to wait. Eating still on my right side. Got a needle in my gums for my effort to make it on time to the dentist today. Okay. Right. Perfect. Saw Street Kings, the James Ellroy screenplay story. Brutal is right. I liked it. Probably won't see it again, but, you never know...I sort of guessed what up as it was finishing, but, what the hell, crazy ride. And that's what's expected...so, it delivered. Can't complain. A lot of manga / yakuza film tales are like that, so what's the difference? It's in Japanese, right? Big deal. Domo Arigato. Moving On.

Tuesday, April 08, 2008

WORDS

Don't wait for your "ship to come in" and feel angry and cheated when it doesn't. Get going with something small.- Irene Kassorla


This is the word of the day, you know? That's it. Start with something and keep it going...maybe you'll end up somewhere you thought about as in big dreams big time, etc., but if not, it might be a blessing...because from what you've seen, tis' a big dumper and maybe as Kipling once said of I think it was failure and success: that they're both imposters...if it wasn't that, it was that if you think you've failed or succeeded, you're going to be right in both cases or...who knows...I'll get it back to you later perhaps...

Well, later on....I'm thinking....I'll have to research the Kipling poem IF, and that's where I recall it from....I can't quote it here I don't think....I don't know if I can use the opening quote in here. But coins. Of the realm. Reality. Things having two faces: Janus: Happy Sad well, they're both impostors. You deem what you deem or redeem what you do all along the way and really, the reactions to things....they're just what it is....that, things can be other. Stuff isn't all black and white. It's gray. It's all dependent on your viewpoint and you shouldn't belabor stuff I guess. More later. When time/opportunity allows. We might even scrap all of this yet....

Saturday, April 05, 2008

AND SO...

This odd realization comes over me in waves, while watching Three Days Of Rain, presented by Wim Wenders; "I could be reading manga right now. Yes. I could even be reading some kind of short Japanese novel, be sitting in a chair by an open window, sunlight over my shoulder, pen in hand, paper there too, writing....but, as it's night time and feels like rain as I'm watching this film by Don Meredith's son, with my mom on the couch nearby, what a waste in a way. I should have just watched the Japanese Sci-Fi flick or Horrorshow I was originally considering."
Yes, I was really considering it. Felt like shutting the film off. I had on earlier the (Wanted to see this film long ago: "The Good German".) Section 8 film, a collaboration between Clooney and Soderbergh. Both these titles were bummers...but I felt really good earlier about finding them and wanting to watch them...because I thought it'd be easier to watch them than the weird/violent Japanese/Korean films or the Russian title (Andrey Roublyov, as it's in some places spelled, but you probably won't find the title in the Netflix queue like that, it's more Russian in spelling...the Cyrillic characters I don't have, but would use as my search just found it.) I thought to see several different items...and to come home and eat some of the Mint flavored crunch green and white M&M nuggets, a promotional line for the new Indiana Jones flick, due next month, entitled The Crystal Skull or something such as that.
Yes, found a new comic store....this one in Fountain Valley, outskirts of Santa Ana, and a fella in there that has tons of books, and has them laid out and easy to find and a big store and method and madness of doing business. Birds in his place. Parakeets and Doves. TV going.
Got my hairs cut. Found a gal who had vacated another store I used to frequent, but used a different one because it was near, an old chain, but near where I was for lunch and Manga book purchase...pen ordering possibility, and, who knows what all. I have checks to do. I have things coming in the mail: TPB of Ellis. Chinese book of supernatural short stories. An electronic meter, for DAD in Mexico. It should be fun.
Went for a walk with Mom this afternoon. Some kind of deal. Went by a place I go to some times for pizza and beer, forgetting that it's cash only. And ordered, cracked open the Heineken did they, and oops! Sorry. Fuck. Well, that's that then. Moving on. Walked back home and then drove to the Burrito place and went by the bank and took notes by the window before the meal and for the digestion of the Dos Equis Amber and lime wedge. (Note to self: Don't pop the lime wedge in and not expect a frizzy backwash of beer coming out the top of the bottle. It will. Be careful.) On the way, I was a bit frustrated. Mom was lagging behind and it required a bit of waiting for her to get ready before we took off even. What to do. What to do. What to do. I'm tired. It's my Sunday, Saturday the 5th, and I'm just now only relaxing and ready to sit and read and you know, it's time to prepare for Sunday (My Monday.), and the new week. FUCK!
Didn't read any of the new comics I purchased. Not Anna Mercury, the latest from Warren Ellis, or Ben Templesmith's Dead Space. Nope. I did at the place in Fountain Valley, pick up a couple of superhero comics of Ellis', some kind of stupid thing I don't know what all...and some Spawn issues, with Brian H's name on them. He's the fella I met at Wizard World in Downtown L.A. at the Convention Center a while ago. I hadn't seen Brian in yonks. Went to school with him and Chip S., Martin F., and cousin to Renee, (A gal I know from CSM, dated ol' Dave T.), Anthony C.
Spoke with Jim D today and felt like I'd really like to just get on the train and go to downtown and sleep it off...just get shit-faced and relax. Get a hooker and get bent. Get to sleep. Eat at an all night downtown cafe...shop at Ralph's...and buy some books at the Library store, esp. sic. the "flexible" Moleskine notebooks...though yesterday, I found what could be the least expensive place to purchase the Moleskine (At least in Orange County.), Westminster Art Supply Warehouse...though they don't have all the pens I want/need/like...I can order them, because of a guy there I know, some one I met at work, because he visits frequently, used to work at another place I go to...and, he informed me of the Pen Show...so, this all button hooks or dovetails or something, and I like it quite nicely. That's it for now. I'll stop...my internet connection is crap again...and, to note...I'm seriously thinking of getting and trying out Verizon's Broadband card, but NOT going to go 2 year deal...no. Just month to month....hell, I could buy my own card and sign up, but, you know, that'd be most expensive and would...they probably wouldn't let me...fuck them.

Monday, March 24, 2008

The other day some friends were arguing...


Happy Easter

Yesterday, March 23, 2008, 2:07:22 PM ari
I think the debate will rage on...or not. I think the person paying for the site or group is boss, well reasoned arguements or not aside. Questions asked or answered or not. People offended or not. Opinions delivered or ignored. Some people can reply. Some choose not to...others cannot. I thought I'd jump into the fray just to say, well, we all get pissed off by things...some times they're rational rational reasons to be pissed. Some not.
Yesterday I may have pissed the lady off by responding to her in a less than cheerful manner when I was trying to get some solutions for her and her group. SOME OF THEM COULD WAIT IN THE SUN SOME COULD NOT. (All this is taking place out of doors) I was in front of a ride and handling about 3 thousand things all at once. People coming up to ask about how to get fast pass, others with them wanting to get in, others wanting just to get in, and others just wanting to go to the bathroom. It's tough for me when people don't get what it is I'm saying to them. I try. I don't always respond cheerfully. That irritation showed and she went off on me, blathering about my attitude. Which of course pissed me off. I hate it when people shit on me. Or, I get you know, to a point. It irritates me.
I hope to assuage nuttiness between liz and john. I hope to cheerfully be at peace with every one who comes up and asks me for help. I can't always. I can't because I don't know why. I cannot. I'm there at a place and there's givens in the context and when people come up with assinine things for me to do, to subvert the dominant paradigm (not have us wait in line because we don't want to and clearly, every one is,) well, I hate it....and if they get antagonistic towards me because I am towards them, I think it easy to dislike their behavior and maybe even hate them...more so the behavior and unfortunately, the life I have to live, what I have to put up with. It sucks. Well, get another job then? Not so easy. As a member of the life for years, I know it's just, one thing for another. It'll be something else I'm irritated with, isn't it? Most people would agree. I don't know. Forget it. Let it go. It's way too easy to say, and hard to follow up.
You'll live longer if you let it be. Well, some times I don't know that that is such a great solution. Who'd want to stay around here any longer for so much more grief? I don't agree it's all just pain. Ah, but it's pleasure too...Can't have release without tension...right. Okay. Moving on. Please, let's move on. There should be much much more to this thing than we have here now. Should be much much more. I have to get ready for work now. Wish I'd time to reason this arguement up. Read and proofread and analyse, etc. But I don't.
Try to be of good cheer. I saw something yesterday. Some one's shirt. Be Classy. San Diego. I need many things like that to combat the uglies. I really do. I thought. Hey, Stay Classy. Some kind of mantra. Now maybe I have it...must work that into the thinking. Some times I'm there at that spot out front of the ride and I'm aware of my breathing and my stance and I can adjust. Some times I cannot. I like not to. I like to just zen it all. Not have to think or be in control at all. Just let flow and go, but, in so doing the price is, I can say and do what irri-fucking-tates and then get in trouble. Make the line stop in the queue to have the lady throw the drink cup away in that trash can, instead of the other, I hold the line so that it's not going to pass her by or she get lost. Her point of view is, I've embarrassed her, blah blah blah. Well, for the most part, so tired that day, I was in a good mood and really just happy that I was handling all these people with my earplugs in in a ludicrously LOUD environment with dangerous exposure to UV (black) lights (aren't there more in the out of doors?) and some what dangerous mechanical conditions and was really relaxed and happy and not much even ruffled my feathers....but this one or two things that day, and especially that one with the lady who, comes to a place that is out of doors and in a crowd and she says her husband can't wait in the sun, (Part of the ride's wait area is indoors, and part out.), and the rest of the group can/is going to go into the ride, what should we do...it's just insane I tell you. Know what I mean? Sure, since that's the obvious, just fucking laugh. Some times I do...but, that's rude, right? IF I'M RUDE TO THEM, that's the ultimate sin. If they're rude to me, I have to just sit and take it like a lamb to slaughter. I take offense at this at some point in my day. There's only so much a person can take. Well, there ya go. Hope the picture comes through. Hope it doesn't offend. But, there ya are. Oh well. Move on.
--Ken.

Saturday, March 22, 2008

"It's A Sad Sad Situation, and it's getting more and more absurd..."*

SATURDAY, MARCH 22nd, 2008
(Thank You Bernie Taupin and Elton John for "Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word"*.)
THE SAD, SCARY STUPID thing and all about any thing and every thing is that I don’t even have my phone on that much and when I do there’s not so many calls coming in or for that matter, going out. Just a few people is all. That is all.
Don’t need to text much. My email is of junk mostly, in my in-box as well as the junk file. There’s crap of/off some friends from way far away and they’re usually discussing or linking stuff I don’t know, think, or, care about, usually; and can’t do much about any thing any way, any how. So, what does it fucking matter? Not much. Not much at all.
STUPID THING IS, I guess that by my ability or possibility if I get super mobile and connected with all the bells and whistles I think are important, and are of what most ads and manufacturers and suppliers and liars of service say they have for one and all; that, when/if I get that, I’ll be able to BE that. The busy guy with the unit electronica and making it happen. Blogging and Emailing and Texting and Calling and moving the universe, multi-verse, whatever, what have you. STUPID!
--------------
My head is itching something fierce. My head has red spots on it in back and on top near the hairline in front and it will get worse. The spots on my fingers are still around as are the ones on my elbows which is/was what started it all in my latter years as an adult in what some times of stress? What, Me Worry? Why?
As a kid, perhaps an infant, I had this. My folks put socks on my hands. Changed my drinking to Goat's Milk. Did that do it? I don't really drink milk much. I can't eat ice cream. I had a milk like drink today...but, it's not why the sores appear at all, really, is it? Chocolate? Caffiene? I do do that. Caffiene. It gets me going keeps me up past 2 AM like it is now on this dark cold morning of Saturday....Friday Night for some....still....like me...on line down stairs till my laptop/mouseshit began giving me problems....and I got tired of it. I'm still burning with energy and I had that bit at the beginning to say and got on line to look stuff up about authors and then the books and but it was all after the stuff with the Sunglasses I looked up. Fucker. I gave them my home number. I don't believe I did that before, eh? I don't like that idea. Shit. I won't know what to...TUESDAY? The sunglasses not very good ones, they won't be around then any way. They're going to be all sold out. That's when they'll call to tell me that the site which is notorious for not including a indicator and no one can contact any one who can find out, if they're mirror finish on the front of the lens as you're looking at the person wearing them. I can't wear them at work if they are, and I'm looking of course for sunglasses that I can wear at work.
I'd picked up a couple today already when I went in for bleach and got some cleaner and maybe I'll get the bathroom cleaned for once...damn thing hasn't been looked at or serviced save the toilet in months and I mean MONTHS! It's pathetic. I don't have a brain for it. I don't have a muscle. I don't have any thing. I don't know at all what's "WRONG". I really can't say. It's not for me to say any way I don't figure. People who are fucked can't diagnose, can they? The phrase is "SELF-DIAGNOSE", right? Whatever. What-ever!
The glasses are cheap, plastic, bright as hell to look through...I want some DARK fricken lenses. I want not to have to go to an Eye Doctor to get them. I want something like they used when we shot stuff at Loyola, ND 9, for Neutral Density #9 strength, which is a hell of a dark glass. And Polarizer. And I'd like to have GLASS, not plastic. I also want that flat blue glare reduction coating on the inside as I look out. I want this glass thin and the frames thus too. Opaque frames. Not shiny metal. I want rubber nose pads off the frames. It's not so hard to imagine or get or do, you know? Something sensible, round-ish I suppose. But square will do. Dark fucking GREEN if I can get it. DARK!

Friday, March 21, 2008

What Goes On Some Times

In rereading my posts...my blog...this deal, I like what I have written. It's difficult for me to read aloud tonight because my throat is a bit raw. It's like, well, Spring and that just means, we have to have sneezing and hot and cold weather, snoring like crazy and sore throats. Oh well.
Saw NIGHTS OF CABIRIA last night and I must say I enjoyed it, despite the fact I considered the thing like my script Rats With Wings in regards to a tough female lead and it made me cry. I could imagine Pier Paolo Passolini writing or living some of the "life" in there and it being incredibly hard to endure. Sad. But so too, the joy of life. Being able despite the hardship, to sigh and smile. Get into the music all around, be able to dance and go on. Nice. I think any one with an appreciation of cinema or of life, should watch it. It really is quite good.
Another film I saw (today) from the video store I visited yesterday, I'd been looking for SOUTHLAND TALES. It was in the store I'd been to several times, and I just didn't get it when I first saw it and have been pissed because I go there and they tell me so far every time I visit, no. It's not here. One gal even went so far as to point out that it's just come out. It's up there on the chaulk board above the cashiers place near the door. Yeah, right. Just come out. Fuck that fuck. But I didn't have any thing to argue with her about. Wasn't in the mood and well, my camera phone wasn't around and I don't have one and if I'd had a camera and shot a photo and had it with me and could show her and see her face and make my point and all....well, what's the point? I can't recall the damn movie I saw this morning that I fell for the girl in and the film experience was one of Okay what's going on what's going on what's going on? More so that of What's this leading to? What's it mean? Why am I watching it? The fella who did The Grudge, the Japanese version. I saw. I liked. I enjoyed this film but really, just...got more out of what was talked about in it than the film experience itself and of the robot mention in it as robots are on the mind of late. The book I'm reading, the Special issue of Scientific American I bought the other day regarding them...Maribou? What is the name of the film? I can't very well open up another window and get it can I?
MAREBITO, by Takashi Shimizu. And the girl who plays F a character who may or may not be the lead character's "daughter" Fuyuma, is awesome. She's Tomomi Miyashita. And on IMDB there is no photo much to my chagrin, but maybe somewhere on there with time there is or at least probably on the net....but never mind that...
I think I'll have to look up the author and his work and the work mentioned in it...the film. Some novel from the 20's is mentioned and how it was prescient and it was fiction but in time became "fact". I like that. Nice. Good stuff.
This guy is a videographer and I won't spoil it but has an obsession and it of course gets him and you must see it for it to be any good. I'd love to read the book by the author and author of the screenplay: Chiaki Konaka.
The 20's novel mentioned in the film (not by name just by the author's name and the fact it was written in the 20's) is A WARNING TO FUTURE MAN, by Richard Sharpe Shaver. In his book, he has "detrimental robots," and they're in the film or the film has these creatures called DERO, which is "what" these creepy things that live in the underground are. Very strange. I wonder...having of late been brought to mind the Last Man On Earth thing/deal with regard to folks at work, (We'd been talking about it lately.) the film with Will Smith and The Omega Man film mentioned and the book that it was based on, or all these films. (There was even one with Vincent Price (The Last Man On Earth, 1964), that came out before the one with Charlton Heston, (1971) which is what I saw.) I wonder if that book, though the stories are a bit different in simple direct plot, I wonder if the 20's novel wasn't inspirational to the fella who wrote I AM LEGEND, by Richard Matheson, 1954. I wonder if he, this other "DICK" wasn't inspired by the Shaver deal.
Looking at wikipedia on Shaver, its quite a posting...you'll have to view it yourself, and check the links...there are a lot of them...I think I want to now call my blog: Mantong, and read the novel, novella, which a fella named Palmer had edited Shaver's manuscript into...making in readable and perhaps less unpublishable...for it was quite racy I guess...much of this guy's crazy stuff that really sold Amazing Stories' stuff in was, apparently...and Harlan Ellison had a thing to say about it all...Hoax and not and what all this crap is all about....whatever...thing to me is, it's interesting and I like the deal. It's like this: There's this thing and it's all talked about and it's nothing in reality or real life but for some off colored musings or things for people of obscure tastes to revel in. So what. Who cares. What's the point. It's just another thing to waste your time/life with, as according to Kurt Vonnegut, never let any one tell you life isn't just for piddling...that, the reason we're here isn't like Chrissy Hynde says: Is to take care of each other...which is nice and I'd like for that to be so as well, esp. sic. with idiots like Shaver and his books making noise, he was probably a paranoid psychotic or schizophrenic or something like that...and it's just, you know, pissing me off. These people. They live and have lived and have made art and are to some degree "important", much more so than me. And, that irks me. Irritating is it I'm not. Nothing is made of me or my stuff at large, you know?

WILL WORK FOR ROBOTS

FRIDAY, MARCH 21st, 2008
Bumpersnicker: WILL WORK FOR ROBOTS.
Okay, Okay, Okay. Listen here. You folks out there who read on line. Put down your other cell phone (device) you use for better sound quality, and use this one you use to work the net, because its reader/user\screen resolution or memory or ease of use with regard to buttons, location of them, or no buttons, is better on this device that rocks! Put your ass down. Take a seat, and read this.
Vacate your body of liquid and solid waste material. Don’t answer your other two phones even if they ring. Let it go to voice mail. That’s what it’s there for. This is muy importante, gut-dammit!
We all say, sure: Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, robots. Robots! Let’s let them. Good. Do it. But do we really have them? Are they really here? NO.
Not like we’d like. Just like the haphazard phones and phone devices/service here in the United States of America. It’s bullshit. (Every other country in the world has far better cellular service than in the United States. And less expensive too!!!) Where we should be having sex with the fembots of our choice over thirty years ago now, it’s not happening. We’re still catching aids or herpes or whatever. It’s bullshit I tell you, bullshit!!
Yes. Si! That’s right. Device. Sex. Robot. Glamor. Fucking. Right. Yeah! Heated body. Simulated heartbeat. Knowledge, attitude and learning ability…hell, TEACHING capability…teach you a thing or two, and never fucking tire…maybe get new batteries? Recharge at the end of the day, week, month? Whatever. Whatever. Whatever. Fuck! I mean, it’s too late for you and me. Too late. We’ll never see it. Maybe some day, some day, but never for us. We only read about it in stupid science fiction stories and in articles in magazines that no one ever reads any more. No. It’s not right, not fair and we just don’t care about you or the future. It’s an ever present nightmare of nothingness. That’s what today is all about. The omnipresent nightmare of nothingness. Never having what you want or need, no matter how hard you try. No. No. NO! Fuck those stupid songs of the 6o's and their drug-addled "wisdom". Fuck that fuck. Fuck that, I say. Fuck that. Bring it on. Bring it on now. Bring it on now and keep it here and make it better, in short-order, every day. To be able to update all the time and keep it on line and make it fucking happen. NOW!!
I’ll work for robots. I’ll work for automated automatons. I do that now already, basically. They don’t know what they’re doing. They’re just following orders. Any one gets out of line they get quashed. Fuck! All these reprograms just to fucking cut you out if you can’t perform. What good is that? Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nightmare of nothingness!!
I’ll work for robots. I’ll work my ass off so that I can have a cell phone with every thing and service too. Hooked up the way I want. All the time. And I’ll work my ass off all the time to get a couple of honey’s in my closet recharging, and walking out when I want. "Kiss me," one says. "I'm pretending it’s you" quips another, as she plays with herself in a video message she always loves to send me when I'm on the road. She'd walk in the door when I’m alone. Yeah, sure. Why not? Why not? Fuck yeah! Fuck Yeah!!
I’ll Work For Robots, that’s for sure.

Saturday, March 15, 2008

READING REVIEWS...N810

Reading/Watching reviews, I'm torn. I find out things about a product I'd have to buy sight unseen, and finding out about a really neat Finnish product, that, when you plug it in, it's got a micro usb, not mini, which means it won't be powering up its battery when it's plugged into a lap top say...buttfuckers, with no ice! Gut-damn you all to the bottom of the bottomless pit!
More crazy stinking fuck-fuck to just waste your time and make you curse like hell the producers and the products and the "service"...which there is really, minimal at best. WHY, WHY stupid shit-holes, why? WHY MUST EVERY THING COOL REALLY BE IN ACTUALITY SOMETHING STUPID-ARSED-LAME?
It makes me realize the reality is way behind what they say is the norm...and for that reason, I feel like, fuck the net and it's assininity!!
Write a book with a #2 pencil and mail it in, you know? Fuck that other fuck. It sucks and doesn't swallow, and in its sucking, leaves spittal which makes you fester, makes you sick, and your penis fall off in the process...only, instead of you feeling more sensitive, you wet yourself constantly, and you have to wear adult diapers for life at age 26 on....lame ass fuck!!!

Saturday, March 08, 2008

RANDOM NOTES TAKEN UPON THE TINKER

Just because I’m crazy, it doesn’t mean I have to have problems. Persons (per-sins) or persons (per-SONs) who are “crazy”, who fit all these often arbitrary definitions of “crazy”, don’t all have to be folks who don’t function. They can. Some do. [Function] And it’s those in authority who do which make do (doo) which scares us the most, getting us into the major shit (Say, country wise, in the world around “us”.), which it may seem we’ll never be able to get out of. They don’t have problems. In fact, our leaders have hosts of enablers; allowing, permitting, encouraging their insanity. It’s horrible. Many of us do—have this “coterie”—of clans who permit us the go ahead to act on our whims perpetuating the nuisance that is us, our host of aberration which if we’d have the occasional: “He’s not wearing any clothing at all!” –Boy Innocent in the Crowd (--BIITC--) The Emperor’s New Clothes. Well, we’d have more sense making perhaps more “BALANCE” and not just a see saw this / that balance of terror.
BUT Back to point: It’s usually noted crazy is a jumble of nuttiness(es). People with complications on top of their complications, and they have no clear/clean set of senses as it were to be able to deal properly. Or, maybe that is even more frightening, eh? No governor? WIDE OPEN! All the time? Peace with all of my ideas: they’re “right”!
Which is best, an occasional voice of calm or HEY! Better watch this / that / the other, all along the way, which speaks to you and you alone, or comes to you in the form of context with others. Or, just, fuckit! Buy Buy Buy. Move Move Move. MORE MORE MORE!!!?

Saturday, March 01, 2008

The Phones, The This, The That

Scared the scheiss out of some tots with dark brown sashes today. Bought some cookies from their dad any way, but so what? Shortbread with chocolate on the other side? They changed bakeries....
Couple of bills in and up due soon. I'm okay with that...must have some money saved. Must. Have. Have to consider Mexico. Mexico in May. Hope is I can get on line a bit there. I will. I mean, I'll have access in Ajijic, and I'll write a full as I can report from there, then. D.H.Lawrence territory there: The Plumed Serpent. I have a copy of that book and will crack that open on the way down. Have three hours from L.A. to Miguel de whatever his nombre is. I mean Name. Not number. Any way...
So I won't have a mobile device I can write to you on. It's going to suck. I might have one later, but by then it will be too late...so, I'll probably just get with something cheap and functional that still won't have internet or good texting...don't do it...so, why bother. Don't get to travel to all countries, so why do I need a phone that's going to get me web access ubiquitously? And, I don't do and I don't receive that many calls to up service and have all this time/etc. as far as upping the service and covering text/sms/web/wi-fi goes...but, I want to. I want to. And I know I'll have to pay for it and I know it can happen and I know that, it should and it's incredibly neat to say the least. Very clever interesting life. Man on the go. Artist report/recording...making it happen. Yeah, sure, why not? Why not? Why not now, why not you, why not?

Friday, February 29, 2008

WHY

Why can't there be...Why can't there be more time? Why can't there be more cognition that says YOU UNDERSTAND, and there's time now to do something bloody decent about it. And, here's a boatload (Not only of the newfound wisdom, but...) of the desire and knowledge of how to go about it. Fer whatever's sake, why is there such a waste of our lives? Why is it so damn lame?

WORD OF THE DAY IS...

Okay, so it's Friday and I really needed after going to L.A., to get back to the behind of Orange County and into Shell City A.S.A.P. I was graciously excused from lunch to do so and got a bit of money gone from the wallet of mine and into the account at FLAX in Westwood. Namely, in the form of another pen (A small gray Caran d'ache "quiet" ballpoint, which takes the standard PARKER, etc. like.), some dark blue cartridges in a tiny blue plastic package, a bottle of dark blue ink like some other cartridges I've been using in the Pelikan Pelikanos, a Large Parker rolling writer ballpoint pen I need for a new but old style Frontier, translucent green body and stainless cap deal (I had eons ago purchased from a Office Place in Los Angeles and wondered if I'd ever have one to back up in case...and eBay one day provided.), a cool, slightly oversized pocket notebook, with rough-like fountain pen paper, at an extremely generous/affordable 10 dollar price...which, with the overpriced but can't find any where else pen, and the ink (?) well, I'm okay...just wish I'd found a straw hat like I was looking for, and NOT another long sleeved pique cotton (red) patagonia golf/tennis/polo shirt...think I'll try to get the folks in the Newport store to get the folks in the West L.A. store to package one of the Mediums up and send it.

How do I double space my Word file document, w/out literally going in with the cursor, and hitting ENTER for each line? I want to ready my novella, get it into the Agent's hand and get out of here, PRONTO!!!

WORKED like crazy on line for the past few hours trying to get it so that I have some kind of notification thing on my web or rss feed or whatever, to notify me when I get a comment on my blogs or whatever it's supposed to do...hell. Sheer hell to do. I couldn't stand it. Still can't. Why did I waste my life doing that?

Nokia's N810 is a "tablet" and not so much a phone with wi-fi Internet...but will go to a connection, if you've got the codes...but, you have to be near and know them and be able to put them in.

STILL, I've no hope of getting a phone...it's all so assinine. I don't know how much longer I can stand it. Don't need all of this crap, but want it. I want to be mobile. I want to blog remotely and it really won't be remote...with the proper phone and service, it'll be like being here writing, only I won't have to be here and it'll in theory WORK!

Thursday, February 21, 2008

BLOWING SUCKING

ACH, February, could you suck any less? Get a hardhat and get to work? Hey, I wanted to play centerfield for the Boston Red Sox but it didn’t happen to me. Grab a hard hat and get to work. Ha! That’s what Dennis Leary said. Something like that a co-worker said to me. Dreams are for dreamers, he said. It figures. It’s like, you know, there may be some of you out there who have dreams that you can make come true, a single one or three and you can spend an entire lifetime out there making that one come true. And that to me is a bunch of shit. It should not have to be that difficult. There are things that only certain people can and will do. The guy who climbed all those mountains, he had lungs and blood and in general, the DNA to make it, all without supplemental oxygen, you know? That’s what that is. Genetics, and that, basically, my friend, is FATE: signed, sealed, and simply delivered, a priori, before the damn train leaving the station, was even fricken BUILT!!! So, you can’t tell me some things aren’t fixed, I know fucking well they are, and that there’s a lot of lying going on in the world, just so that every one going, doing the lying, can get a bunch of suckers, to buy their gravy train, to enhance their own bank accounts, and shove a huge piece of splintery wood up the sphincter of any one unsuspecting. That’s all we have to say at the moment.

Friday, February 15, 2008

The TRUTH, or, the WAY IT IS NOW....

There's all these people doing all these things and it all seems important and I seem utterly lost and generally left out.
People are on their phones and seem to talk for hours without having to charge their batteries. I on the other hand talk to one person for 45 minutes and my battery's on low, and have to recharge.
People text and get messages like crazy, have the latest gadgets, get and use and have connectivity like all the "service providers" promise, but whenever I get to the phones and the places to try them out, whenever I read the reviews and all, I find them all missing, missing something vital that I need. WHY THE HELL IS THIS?
What am I doing wrong? Some people write and publish and have and do but I do not. I'm just a little piece of wood in an amazingly ginormous river that gets shoved on downstream like so much flotsam/jetsam...nothing ness. WHY?

Friday, February 08, 2008

Happiness In The Rendering

Then there was this woman on the street, short, fat, sqat waddling thing, breasts out to here and a big plastic shopping bag just a hanging on down, moving slowly east along Talbert, alongside the Cemetery, where a friend of mine's mother is buried.
I'm tired of seeing these people on the street and feeling sad or sorry for them. Look at them, these losers. That's a judgement call. Maybe they're not sad or lost.
ON the bus, looking out a window, I've no expression on my face at all, but what do I look like to them? Any one passing by? I could look sad or mad or be a "LOSER" too. But au contraire, I'm as happy as a clam, lark, shipmate on the high seas with tons of dollars to my name....though I'm poor and stupid; often lame and thoughless; and or otherwise scrambled; lazy, and just aesthetically; can't figure out on how to do some things: I'm HAPPY!
It was too easy to contemplate, the other morning on the bus my thanksgivings...job, life, house, clothes, car, etc. Pretty much all a fella really needs, eh? No gal, no problem. But of course it's: there are so many people in the fructose laden world, the corn syrup system, that don't have squat. Who wish they could squat: but no letters in the mail, no posts on the net, no smart phone with system to boot....tis vapid nutty life....no. None of these things and so many more we can consider, most people just....don't have any of these things and when they've no livelihood either? No house or people who love them?
Why, I'm sitting there on the bus, a slight quick turn of the corner of my mouth up to the heavens goes before it could even be registered. The long slim green grasslike plant fronds blow in the wind on the middle of the street planter area when the bus passes....reminding me of the same outside my window in S.F. on the courtyard out my window at Webster Manor, same such plant material shown underwater in the film by Andrey Tarkovsky: SOLARIS. Ah, yes. How sweet it is. Life is good. I am happy and not one soul knows. Most of the time I am.
It is too easy to be happy here. See, when I get vexed is when how easily things fuck up. That's when I get mad, and that is all the time I could say. I was freaking out the other day. Things falling in the piles I have and was adding to in my room, my laundry, etc. Getting a hat or pen from somewhere and then having the damn thing cause an avalanche of shit falling...fucking pissing me off. "Stop, fucking, falling, a-part!" I yell and scream. But otherwise, yeah. I'm happy. It's too damn easy to be.

Friday, January 18, 2008

I KNOW WHERE THE PAIN COMES FROM

WHERE IS THE PAIN coming from? And, are you disrespecting me? What the hell? I mean, I’m on the phone on the bus and in your face and what are you talking about? What the hell? Shut the fuck up. I’m just really trying to unwind from work and this guy is on the phone next to me on the bus and he’s talking to someone, possibly a younger brother or sister and he’s all up in their face with their “disrespecting” him, with “attitude”. What the fuck? I’m like, shut the hell up. You’re just a big egodick and you should check and cut it. I mean, you don’t have or need or get respect by thinking your shit doesn’t stink and calling and demanding that people immediately do as you expect or say.
Then I think, well that’s like me at work too, isn’t it? I demand and expect all of them to do as I say, exactly when I say it, with the deal of my job of: making sure things go right. Well, that’s in the exchange. I’m there as the ride operator. They are there as the riders. That’s the given deal. They are there just to have fun, sure, but like the boys at the zoo: get drunk, stoned, fuck up the help, and the help aint gonna help you, it’s going to eat you and it’s not any one’s fault but yours. Why bring a $500.00 stroller if you really can’t afford it?
I told the lady that, she shouldn't lock the stroller, that the cable would probably just get cut. And besides, all any one’d have to do is pull the pole out that she was about to lock her stroller to.
My money says, if you have the stroller, you can’t afford it if you can’t afford the lock (How much is that? That’s the real value or cost/worth of the stroller.) or the Stroller/Thing if it’s broken or stolen…to be able to replace it no problem. That is to say, you can’t afford the 600 bucks for things if you can’t replace another 600 the next day when/if the thing is lost stolen damaged. You can’t afford it. You’re not rich or not rich enough, so there.
The folks miffed or pissed about my making them finish their food, before going in. I shouldn’t have to explain that if I let the food in, it’s going to mess the way to the ride or the ride itself. But I do from time to time to help. Help explain WHY I’m telling them, or that that is a rule. (Where they get pissy probably is because they know that already and they’re just pissed that someone is actually enforcing it, that they can’t eat and ride too. Or maybe it’s something else.) It’s a given. I’m not letting food in to keep the place clean, an aesthetic difference/atmosphere which every one can enjoy. And, for the ride itself, if liquid were to spill and short out electronic circuitry, well then, every one’s inconvenienced, aren’t they? So, fuck! DO AS I SAY!!!
When I demand you put your fucking feet down now, DO IT!!! Because the door won’t close with your foot there and it may hurt you and will stop the ride with the door not closing at the point where it must be closed for the ride to operate properly. Sure, I have no cause for demanding people do that other than it’s my job and I supremely want them every one to do that…I really do only really because I want it all to run smoothly. I don’t want any one hurt and I don’t want to get in trouble/lose my job…etc.
But I don’t demand they respect me or like that. I just figure it like, do as I say because I’m the ride operator? I deserve that respect? They’re disrespecting me? NO, do it because that’s the way to make it go right; nothing more, nothing less. I don’t care about you or the situation any more than that. It’s nothing personal to me. But if people resist or get hissy about me or my possible “attitude”, then, yeah, I’m attitudinal on them sure. I don’t like the antagonism towards me if they’re antagonistic because I’m telling them something that’s for their own good and for the good of the whole show ride and general experience of every one around them. Yeah, that’s what I’m all about. Nothing more, I’d say.
Or so I say, or so I say. That’s what I’m talking or am all about; nothing more, nothing less. I don’t demand they or any one really “respects” me. I don’t care about that ego “satisfaction” or big headed penis-ness. I don’t give a fuck about that. That’s not my bag. They either do what I tell them or not. I don’t care. Not really.
I mean, I’m not bothered otherwise. I know, I tell my self that, they’re going to do whatever. People are going to do whatever they want/decide to do regardless of what any thing is told to them to do or what systems are in place with regard to where they are, etc. Nothing is going to stop them really from doing any thing they don’t want other than physics or whatever when they go too far with their behavior that won’t allow them to live if they touch the third rail, by accident or horseplay or whatever. That’s the only thing that’s going to really stop them. The tiger attacking them for fucking around with it. Yeah, theory says, you may or the possible outcome scenario is that, you may not make it, if you push a thing too far.
I guess that’s what some people want. They want some barriers they can’t go through…they want to know where they are…we all need some guide lines or posts of marked-ness, to know where or where not to go/build/be, etc. And all of us want some kind of sense or sensibility/reason with it. And that’s fair I think. But, with the ego in there and our demanding respect and loyalty with things, we’re only going to hurt ourselves. Demanding that people adhere to things as we believe, if we don’t at the outset setup and agree as a group to do this that or the other. These are the laws, and these the law enforcers, etc. Yeah, that makes a certain amount of sense. Yeah, I think I see this is where the pain is. (From the Self.) It comes from the self when we assume things that just are not that way. We bring it onto our selves.
No. Don’t go under/over the chains. I say to them when they do that. It’s difficult for people to process the way when though the way is clear before them, they see alongside another way and the way into the building they want. They don’t see the other door down the clear way path in front of them, the door being further down and out of readily available sight, (If they'd just be patient and go a little further.) like the doorway on their right is easily available to them at least visually, though through a pathway parallel to where they are now.
{{It’s their goal: GET INTO THE BUILDING THROUGH A DOOR. AH, THERE’S A DOOR ON THE PATH TO THE RIGHT, NOT ON THE ONE I’M ON NOW. (Am I going the wrong way? They say. Often to me out loud.}}
They want the end result (a door) which they see to their right naturally, and they think, am I on the right path? (NO. They’re on the left, but it is the correct one.) They’re on the correct one because the one on the right where the door is first visible, is blocked. Was blocked by me and a chain across the path in front of me. I put up the chain because I want no one coming in through the “wrong” path.
(They can go through there and get there but it’s for Fast Pass and in this instance, there’s no reason for Fast Pass to be used because there’s no wait. There needs to be a wait, a line of folks to go Fast Pass, to have Fast Pass work. Since there wasn't in this case. I didn’t want it used or open. There was no sensible need.)
They go under or over the chain again to get back to the left/correct path, I’m all upset again, because again they’re going like I told them not to, under/over the chain. The thing is not to have them do that because that’s where they could get hurt.
But, the pain is, I can’t stop them from hurting themselves. I can’t stop them from doing what they want or are going to do. They’re going to do whatever it is they want/are going to do. You can’t control people. They do what they do. You have to let it go.
I say sit back and relax. I need to sit back and relax. I say let it go. I want them to let the toy gun go because I need them to get out of the vehicle the moving mechanical vehicle, which the toy is attached, but they are not. (They are riders volunteering to ride.) I need them not to hang onto the front panel, because it will open soon, and I don’t want them hanging onto it because it will open automatically soon and they’re likely to get dragged with it, and they might get hurt. Let it go. Let it GO! LET! IT! GO!! I shout some times. Well, I need to let it go, it seems. And, that’s fucking sad on both our parts and the pain within…me…because I cause it…I cause that pain within…and that is really, truly, SAD! (I am causing my own pain. I cause the pain. I am the source of my own pain.) I know where the pain comes from. I am the pain where the pain comes from.

Saturday, January 12, 2008

Another Saturday Night...

Another Saturday night and I have me myself and I to thank for getting through MY weekend. I have as this night is my "Sunday", only 12 more hours or so to get into unconsciousness, sleep some, and get up and get ready and then rock and roll doing my driving on a pre-cast 12" across concrete I-Beam, and then come home and hope is not see a movie or buy any thing.
And that's about it. I hope to make people happy and be in a good mood all day. Hope to have it all with me, the muse, the mood, the metier sublime. But, I won't know exactly what will be until I face it first and foremost, first hand. I will at that however, I will at that. I will face it head on as always. As All Ways. As I always do.
I've changed the format of this blog and I've hope is got it cinched and staying...hope is...hope is...
It's a lovely change. The words just stand out from the body of the page and it looks real neat. Hope is. Hope is. ENJOY!!

Friday, January 11, 2008

Another Link To Another of My Signed up Sites

This here's a link to Technorati...I don't even know yet what all I have to do here to make sure that every thing transfers there....but, I'm trying...and, I want it all hooked up nicely. I do belive in the ubiquitous nature of this net....some day it will be, even for us bassnackward people here in the United States of America, Norteno.

Enjoy!

Technorati Profile

The First In Something...

IF IT'S DESCRIBED as something 1st, as in the first man who combed his hair from right to left across his forehead, you'd better take pause. There's usually a woman beside him trying to change his ways to do just that and then the real truth of the matter is...But seriously folks, that Norgay wasn't first up Everest I don't agree.
BUT WHAT DO I know? I can't stand cold or hot weather. I can't get warm now and I'm drinking only my second glass of Ruby Red Grapefruit juice. Great for the rest of my body, but horrible horrible horrible for my teeth.
Been reading Ed Viesturs' No Shortcuts To The Top and John Harlin III's The Eiger Obssession. And Ed's book is ghost written, i.e. it was WRITTEN by another person, himself a writer of many mountain climbing books...just, Ed is not a writer. Or he's not a going organizer of words on paper, and so with not so much time or capability, booked a deal with David Roberts.
[David Roberts is the fella who was a mentor to Jon Krakauer and Jon was just one of the idols as it were of Ed Viesturs. Ed as a kid read Annapurna, by Maurice Herzog, and was heavily into it as far as wanting to climb mountains with inspiration like that.]
Now, I don't know any thing of what goes on there...the composition of their work...to get that 12 Peaks book going...where the deal was made or under what auspices. Who cares? It's a great read. Any book going that you may see/read, is done with more than one. I mean, you may see: T.S. Eliot on the cover, and he himself was instrumental in shaping other writers' works, but, he was edited too. Others had a hand in it. We're not all hollow men, but, as vapid, and superficial as we are, there are others along who help facilitate. Ed even talks about it in his book. HA!
Just wanted to say, it has been interesting of late where I've been, and where I've wanted to be and what's going on and what's not and how things can be so hey relate etc this thing or the other and how all the things that click so. Still, my show sucks. It's not on so much like I want. But yet I plod on.

Friday, January 04, 2008

Life of Late In A Nut Shell

The Indian wisdom has this to say about things and it's basically a paraphrase about every thing every one else has always said and is saying and that is that if you listen to me you're doomed. But, having said that, I'll tell you any way. Sort of like How to Improve the World; You'll Only Make Matters Worse, something quoted from John Cage, the Great American weirdo composer. Four Minutes and 33 seconds of silence, in three distinct movements. I'd prefer Shiek Yerbouti, but Frank Zappa's lyric's are insane, asinine and ridiculously funny.
But back to the point. I think that if you do your best do your duty that's all you can do and you try. That's it. You can't possibly do or be any more or better than that. You're true to that and it's something all the way back to the Greeks have you know, the name is on your tongue now if you do, isn't if you don't, but you'd be interested to find out some day and then it hits you like a storm right between the peepers: satori. Wake up.
Okay. Well, it was a successful day but didn't all feel as though it was very much. I've had these before and at least I am writing and have not spent so much...but, do want some money gone but not like I'd have to do it if I was on the net via one hella expensive but connected mobile device which takes pictures and notes and can get me on line wherever basically.
That's good and great and confound it, sucks! TOO EXPENSIVE!!
Sure, with AT&T a fella could have the HTC slider and be really hooked up. Get a cable and get a folding keypad and write a way. HOO! Slick! But 80 plus a month to be on line that way? F-that F, I say. F-that F! I'd love to have it. Love to know that I spent only $150.00 on a device that kicks royal arse on all the other metal/plastic pda/phone boxes out there...lovely to look at sort of but so what? More for function I am. More for punching in the data and getting around and being fricken HOOKED UP!!! Oh-yeah! EV-DO etc. But whatever.
In time they will be less expensive and hook up better and the net will be more in line with that BIG ARSE LIE: It's ubiquitous now. Yeah, right. Give me a break. We're building your infrastructure superhighway with us buying all of your stupidly expensive devices and supposed "SERVICES", and we don't get much out of it at all but a weak bank account and grief every now and then.
What am I on/off about? If you haven't given a thought to writing on line or carrying around with you a device that has a 3.1 megapixel camera and usb hookage along with bluetooth and wi-fi and a really beautiful large and easy to use keypad under the touch screen loaded with the latest Microsoft small web device software, Vista too, but something like 6. something version...well, that's really rocking as far as I'm concerned, and if I can get HTC's device from AT&T for around 150 as a result of being a new customer, and if I can afford 80 plus a month of service for net/phone use, well, that's really great, no? NO! It shouldn't be so expensive!
But, at least it won't cost me 5 or 600 bills for the unit itself! And that's what it costs if you just went out and bought it...so, that's a great deal right there. Almost but not quite reason alone to go and do it.
But, what you pay to be hooked up just for email and blogging, because you really don't give a rats ass about downloading music, and it's horrible to try to surf with those tiny screens and the damn small mega space of the hard drive as it were...well, you know, as I said, you do better to stay hooked via usb device air hooked dsl as I do...the router downstairs and me up...but, what? Where am I going to be in three years? Here?
I just looked at my stuff in storage today and said: I can't. I can't. I can't. And, I couldn't. I didn't. I don't know why. Told myself a while back: NO new phone until you free up that cash. 140 a month!! Damn, use that for your....why spend that? SAVE!
Same thing for every one. SAVE. Create a "Safe Haven". Get it in a ROTH IRA! You know, you're not going to make it into the future. You're not writing a book. You're not writing a novel or prose or poetry. You're barely reading...so...you know...what? WHAT! What is this life? You try. You try to, and then you die. That's it. Nothing more nothing less. And any one tells you different, is full of the most disgusting heap of slimy excrement, the world has ever known.
Sure now. And if you don't mind. I won't really try to force my way on you, but you know, doing what I do, eventually, it will. You'll come in contact. I work and see how stupid it is, how people could just be a little bit more perceptive to the circumstance. You could too. You could too and just not let it bother you. But, you do. You let it get you all bent out of shape. Who is the more stupid in this circumstance? YOU!
You try and then you die. No more. No less. I hope this answers some questions you've had. I pray to you. Hope all your dreams come true. I know not all of mine will. There will be no monorail down the center of the 405 free way in my lifetime. There will be no device I'll be able to use to be blogging this on the fly no matter where I go without having to spend/pay a HELL of a LOT of money on either periphereals or just the device it self or on the damn hook up "service" (provider). NO. No VOIP on this HTC phone. Dammit!
I'll bet there is a way. I'll bet, for some savvy person, they could clue me in and get it going right. I'll bet. SYMBIAN logic. LINUX something...I'll bet, and we'll all then save some fricken money and be able to blog ubitquitously. One can only hope.
One can only hope...and then try. Realize here and there and maybe all along the way be a little bit happy with all the sad stupid confusing times trials phenomena phenomenon one passes through. One comes (here) just to go...life is a journey. From some where beyond never was to maybe something else. We certainly hope. We certainly hope....but, really ultimately?
No one knows. No one knows for sure, and if any one tells you any different, they are full of it...full of make believe that doesn't merit pondering or posting, because it's all lies then. It's all lies. And nothing of beautiful confabulation to make beautiful statements about life in the bitter extreme. Nothing. There is nothing to that line of logic or of reasoning. It's cat crap! And I don't mean that stuff you use to keep glasses clear of the fog either.