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.

"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!
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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!

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.

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!!!

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!!!?

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?