An Apology From The Multiverse

AN APOLOGY TO YOU FROM THE UNIVERSE

FRIDAY, 11/25/2016

I wish to apologize to you. NO, we wish to apologize to you. You who are there, suffering in life and are upset with the way things are, have been, and will continue to be. Selah. Such as it is. We’re sorry. We are the Metron’s as it were. A nod to the arrogant, omnipotent sort of egg-headed nozzels of dewsh that prevented Star Trek -The Original Series (TOS), from understanding what’s going on during one of their adventures….eventually, the HUMAN’s prevailed. In this case, we’ll all have to die to find that out, or any “thing”, for that matter…if that is even the case. We may not. I mean, if we’re just, spat out into aether, from this personality we have, to nothingness, well, none of this certainly will matter. 

Beware, we digress. We apologize. We’re sorry. Truly, we are. What have we got to lose? Nothing, right? Okay. We’re at a point in being where the “self” matters, but only as a construct to dealing with others on a more basic human level. Otherwise it doesn’t seem to. Nothing matters ultimately, and that is really strange when you think about it. Sad really, but let’s not get maudlin so quick. There we go. Time a plenty for that, for sure, later on…

Let’s see, where were we? Appy Polla Loggee. I don’t know if Burgess (A CLOCKWORK ORANGE) even spelled it so. But, we’re sorry, so let’s go for all of it, if we can. We’re sorry. Ever so sorry. Really. Truly, We ARE!

  Black Friday today. Let’s have a White Wednesday. Yeah, sure. Why not? If someone’s going to be offended, fuck them, or actually, don’t. Let them suffer by not having sex. Let all of the suffering commence. We’ve apologized already, right? And, enough too, okay?

White Wednesday, because my snotty-faced, heap of parrot droppings o’l self is offended. And, I must have MY day. My day, White Wednesday, consists of this: Waking, to an “all-white” illumination, hearing inside my head, IT’S WHITE WEDNESDAY! And then I just turn over and go back to sleep. Simple. 

            Nothing happens on White Wednesday. You wake up then, on Thursday, and, you know Tuesday was the Day before Yesterday, and that Yesterday, WEDNESDAY, was White Wednesday. Simple, eh? Pure. Happens before Thursday, and Thursday happens after that. What could be more simple and plain and fair? 

          You have your Black Friday, and I have my White Wednesday, and, to be more generous, you have your Black Friday, and the very next Wednesday, will be my White Wednesday. Nothing happens. You, Me, We, All, wake, and realize it, and sleep, and wake the NEXT Thursday, and then after Thursday, it’s a regular Friday and then a regular Saturday, and so forth and so….on! How about that? Pretty good, eh? Decent of us, ain’t it? Isn’t it? Yes. Of course, if we do say so, and, we do.

  SEE-We digress!! But oh the deliciousness-es of the digressions! Beautiful, eh? Perfect! Nothing!!

“The Age Of Trump”, --Hojimbo. We’re in the age of trump now, so says the sages of the age. No need to panic. There’s a lot of time between here and January swearing in of the new democratically elected president elect. Yes. A lot can happen, and probably will. But so what? There’s really no need to panic. You’re not going to experience in your lifetime a thing where you should have tried to make sure you and your country didn’t completely turn out into these or this MONSTY on the door, like a bug in every whore, and it ravaged and killed every one and all sundry items by the wayside. No. Not like nazi-isms. Fascists maybe, but not the nasties. No, that was a one-go train-ride and its long-life of references or feral referentialisms, just keeps oncoming like a traffic jam on a weekday of the 405 or 91 or whatever, ut…

Look, don’t panic. You’ve done your best. You don’t have to turn in your neighbor. She’s not going to turn you in. It’s not that kind of world…not just yet, is it? Or, is it?

What has all this nonsense been about any way? You know? Think about it, or don’t. What’s happening? We’re all so quick to vilify and slander and bring down any one and anything, with regard to who what where when and why, right? Political Leaders, Neighbors and Friends…you name it. It’s yours. Drag it down. Denigrate. Later, DENY! I NEVER!! Cuckoo, Cuckoo, Cuckoo! It’s crazy making for sure. 

We’re all a bunch of petulant children these days. All APP bound abbreviated syndrome-d Sad excuses for our psychotic behaviors, anti-social in the social realm. As we freely verbally abuse all and sundry. 

        WHERE DID THE TOUGH LOVE GO?

            IT WENT THE WAY OF THE SNOWFLAKES!

We’ve become or are all now the cast, crew, audience of the Jerry Springer shows and we get what we deserve. FACT IS FICTION, TV: REALITY. Paul David Hewson (Bonavox) is correct. You too can realize a new reality now. Suck on that, fuckers!

Does this mean we all melt down in the middle of the street? (Some have.) Torch one another’s artificial turf lawns and succulents with gasoline now? Public Temper Tantrums every chance we get? Everywhere? 

How is any of it acceptable? 

In due course maybe we’ll all settle down. Take some magnesium, or like Bonobo’s (monkey’s) get give sex, and more often…these monkeys fuck when they meet, are happier than most. Go figure. 

Magnesium, relaxes the muscles, lowers blood pressure…and, exercise is good, so they say. Will we all start walking more? Take seriously the aspect of swimming more, or, all year around? BAH! Fuck that shit!

Let’s get snowed/stoned, go to dizzy’s-land. Hot-box it in the car before we go. Drive in to park, with tall-boy aluminum can open container, phone up to head, child standing on the center console flexing its knees, doing a jiggy crotch grab nose pick as you look for your preferred parking place, where YOU want to park, NOT accepting the red ink contract which says Park As Directed. Yes, supra-entitled. Your shit doesn’t stink. Not to you anyway. Actually, smells a bit sweet, doesn’t it? Yeah, you in your supra-clean GARGANTUAN pickamuck-truk. Over-sized clean as a whistle off road vehicle on these surface streets with anodized roo-bars in front. Hell, even an old Toyota can smash a fox or coyote or skunk or raccoon without much damage. What the fuck you need roo bar’s for? Oh yeah, that’s right, Black Friday, nothing to do but feed on a Kangaroo. Dontcha have plenty of “turnkey’s” left over? Make a casserole. Dump all that TURKEY, mashed potatoes, yams, stuffing, etc, into a deeeeep dish, sprinkle some grated cheese, and zap it? 

We’re all a bunch of poor dumb ass dipshits, parading around our shit for each other. See-How much I can spend? See-What I can produce? See-Aren’t you jealous? We’re all about 6 paychecks away from the gutter. We’re all so poor and jaded and fucking deluded. It’s a joke on ourselves. 

Things are the way they are and there’s nothing we can do about it. Nothing. It’s the way it is. It’s the way it works. It is what it is. This is it. Ride the strange torpedo all the way to the bitter end, we guess. 

LOOK there is a certain sense of things we want you to understand. Whether it is our fault or not, we’re trying. We know answers (some). We just want to be able to believe. We want to know without doubt. Perhaps and as we say this, it occurs we’ve written we too many times and that doubt and speculation are right and healthy to bring perspective and make the best possible chance at outcomes where and when it is you choose a path/part or emotions\stance in or on something. We are so supremely grateful to not be so damned upset/bothered about this recent u.s.a. election cycle outcome.

We’re ever so sorry for the hurt souls in it. All the crying and the destruction done for, to, by, every, all, by some that, for fuck all reason, some of the damage done was by people (loosely termed) people in Oregon who didn’t even VOTE! That destruction of property…should be karmatized on them…for their dunderheadedness-es. Or, supreme forgiveness and eye opening to be given them so that they can see what retards they are. 

People have gone off. What the fucking hell is that all about? What is wrong with people?

It is with renewed vigor, ever onward, we hope, with faith, in a better future with all, soon, all, will be restored, once we get underway, and can relax and get back to whatever hell it is, we deem normal. Sure, the CUBS won the “world series”, the Penguins aren’t doing too bad, and maybe the bowl that shall not be named, next year, will be fun to watch, but so what? 

Can and will neighbors look out for one another, still, despite the fact those who didn’t vote, those who protested, the democratic process, went around willy nilly and shit on this all? We hope people will stop: killing, hurting, damaging. WE hope they settle down. We hope tough love reigns throughout, or something like this. DRIVE ON!

Gimmie: Gimmie the serenity to accept it, what I can’t settle. PEACE, eh? Courage a plenty I’ve got to change that which I can. Leave me alone there. But, please: WISDOM! Wisdom to KNOW the DIFFERENCE!!!

So Be IT!

Allow me to type what words and letters I desire to type and we will love you long time. Don't auto correct my intentional mannerisms and allow the ineptitude word to pass.

Can't Recall If This Works Or Not

Nope. Might as well try however. Should be meditating. There's much to be concerned. Earthquakes, Floods, Wars, Bad Weather in general. Death of this that the other person. My sister's medical needs. Everyone. So strong the desire to sit here and pass the day away. Not go to work, nothing. Sad. That's just way too much. New week ahead and new training in a new job. Be of good cheer. Enjoy.

The Future is HERE!

http://www.thecarconnection.com/overview/toyota_mirai_2016

FINALLY!!!

mumbly-pegs

Came time to write a letter to a friend. On the way we found some pictures...

Roo Humps Pig

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-3634548/Kangaroo-photographed-having-sex-pig-Northern-Territory.html?ito=email_share_mobile-masthead

Even if it were true that kanga and porcine were in a relationship. That the pig and the boxer here are having sex, to me it's just the Roo on a romp. It's rape, or something. Dunno. Does the pig mind? Do you hug a co-worker? If the co-worker doesn't mind, they don't go to human resources and complain, then maybe it's okay. Even if there's nothing more to it than that.

This may be photo-shop work. I don't care. It doesn't interest me.
What's of note is what kind of kids would they have? Would they be well taken care of? Would we have to know about it, would we be made to care?

Well, the best way of dealing with this is to just ignore it. Maybe it'll go away. They can't possibly create a new thread here, I don't consider. But then I'm no expert in animal husbandry. What do I know?

What Malcolm Gladwell Missed About the 10,000-Hour Rule | Inc.com

http://www.inc.com/david-burkus/what-malcolm-gladwell-missed-about-the-10000-hour-rule.html

What's also missing is and you can't study it either, is, what aesthetically the differences are between the "players" whether bankers or whatever, is, some folks just can't hack it. Some are terrible people and should never do these things. Some want to so bad, but simply NEVER WILL become the coveted "thing" they so desire. And folks will just say simply of them, it just wasn't in the stars. Let's face it you can't just study to be Prince Charles and then study and become him. Some things some people will just never be.

Isn't That Odd

But isn't that odd?
Each generation comes and goes, thinking that it's THE end. It's not, not for them, not for us. Not unless they're swept away by the tidal wave, or, Tsunami, because a tidal wave is the wave of the beginning or end of the high or low tide. It's only about ankle high. Yet it's only a teaspoon required up the nose to drown perhaps, but the Japanese word, Tsunami better fits, regardless if it is or isn't a Dragon at the bottom of the Sea slapping its tale on the sea bottom,  which causes the storm of water that gets you, even though clearly the tide could.
Each generation on this old glob, and it is a glob, mostly covered with water, but called Earth, for some reason, thinks it's the end for them. And quite rightly for them it is. Buildings fall down, bridges collapse. The earth quakes. Drought and Pestilence kills many. But, isn't it odd, this mythos, the myth of The End, is ingrained almost within each of us? With every generation? Isn't that odd?
 And do we ever ask how or why? And why do we even bother? There's no answer forthcoming, is there? Isn't that odd?
  Is it just a perspective deal? Earth. Covered mostly with Water. Okay. We call it earth. Anywhere down we dig and it's molten, lava, hot, hell, liquid too.
 Not stable. Always in perpetual change as it were.
 If not slightly irritated, then at least gently perturbed. Our natural state perhaps? The earth, us? And while people come and go, dreaming and scheming, the earth for the most part, abides, just like The Dude. And yet somehow we know it will all pass. Our lives. Its lives, the planets, stars, all in good time, My Dearie. All in good time. It's good or not good to be a meteor, all atoms aglow, and, Jack, (Mr. London), you're wrong, a planet is not permanent or even sleepy. But, you're right, in relative context, perspective, it is. Humans come and go faster than the heavens, as it were. How do we know this? Why? Because we want to? Because we have to, to survive or exist with any sense of humor, proportion? That we know and or knew all along, this mythos these mysteries, tales, all along the way. Isn't it odd?

Nightmare

Woke from a dream this morning where I was walking along a trail. Horses were buried in the ground all along the way. Some just up to their ankles, others to their knees or bellies, while still others only had heads up. The worst were the noses and ears, all still breathing, very much alive. My hands to my head, crying. The "nightmare" ended there.

IT'S BEEN A TOUGH WEEK

  Not one of our submarines is missing, in fact, it's submerged.
(Que up Thomas Dolby at present for your aural pleasure while reading this.)
   Not many people think of them. Rest assured that U.S. military goes in and out of the 12 mile buffer around China and its "installations" with them as well as their planes and boats.
  Yes, go to sleep at night in comfort, while you're awake, you can read The British online news about how the U.S. spy planes ( they don't say what kind of air craft ), are waved off in unsafe manner, by the Chinese fighter jets, while they, the Pentagon, release to the British press, that boats and planes patrol the 12 mile buffer zones. Yeah, never mind what subs are up to, and, why can't they keep their B-52's airborne? Why did that one in Guam dump it the other day?
The largest aircraft in the world landed late in Perth, Australia the other day, but a commercial Airbus, the bloated 737 type, just went down in the Mediterranean Sea. Why? How? 
  There's a super-sonic jet engine tested the other day, soon we'll be able to fly from Sydney to London in 2 hours. TWO HOURS!!! Think about it. And try to get some sleep. Good Luck. 

LOOK, YOU THINK YOU KNOW EVERYTHING

AND, PERHAPS YOU DO

   But please, realise this: As a "human being", the person observing, changing the thing observed, one has to then ask the then over whelmingly pressing question: What actually do we know, and, what "can" we 'know'?

https://www.brainpickings.org/2012/09/24/f-scott-fitzgerald-responds-to-hate-mail/

 With this here, Francis Scott suggests Literature has more culpability for why we do what we do than all these "rich" guys. Seems like we were wrong to presume Fitzgerald was picking a part life as the scheme as it is, and, since he too was one of them as it were, a "published" and paid author, he's no more our literary hero revealing the truth than yet another one of the disgusting teeming cocksuckers the  world has yet seen fit to rid itself of.
It seems clear, we can trust no one. All are suspect. None should be trusted, even those and the work once held in such high esteem, especially over the norm and what we once thought of as the  cabal of what is, and what they wanted you to believe.
These people should be fixed, broken, and NEVER again be given any more of our time. They are full of lies. They are scum of the most vile sort.

Here's The Thing

We don't want pets, spouses, or offspring. We don't need pets, spouses, or offspring.
We hardly manage as it is. Why must we complicate things?
We've no tattoo's, implants, or mutilations. Our clothes though we still do layers when it's comfortable, fit well. That is to say, we could run in them without having to pull up and then hold onto pants to do so. Colors match or are complimentary. Only some times contrasting, but muted now, not like the harsh assortments we used to display. Nothing so gaudy or flashy anymore. That's about the only real change. It's rare we get just because of the "name", for the recog, as we were heavily into in our younger days. Most folks missed the points on us anyway, sad to say: 'pearls before swine'.
We just want space, a place, some things to do that can at least contribute a little bit socially. If not then definitely not done to harm. However we're not going to have to do everything in the world to please all manner of species and subspecies just to exist.
If LIFE can't figure out we want to be left alone, then LIFE, is fucking stupid!

Since April Two Thousand Six

We've been doing this writing thing in the blog here since April, 2006. It's 2016 now. I don't have the time now to go through this too much but it sure is nice to be able to do this. A few people set it up, allowing us to work this way and to let it happen. I am so grateful! That's my happy easter to everyone. Thanks!

PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE!!

WHO do I have to appeal to? What do I have to do to get internet connectivity 24/7/365?!!!! WHO? WHO? WHO?!!!! WHO THE FUCK IS IN CHARGE? WHAT THE FUCK IS "WRONG"? And WHAT IN THE UNHOLY FUCK IN ABSOLUTE HELL DO I HAVE TO DO TO GET & KEEP THIS GAD-BLASTED BULL-FUCK-SHIT ON, AND ON, FOR EV-OR??!!!!

BLOGGER'S FLICKERING-AS IF I WANT TO BUY THIS BLOG SITE NOW?

Can't stand looking at this blog page. It fucking jumps. Like looking at a goddamn fucking fluorescent light over a kitchen sink and it's flickering. No, I mean fucking clickering. It's buzzing and humming and strobe-light juddering to such an annoying extent. I won't look at a page of it. I've had it with this bullfuckshit!

Lawsuit Complete

 SO, let me get it sorted. 5.7 million dollar (U.S.), is won and the thing is, it came from some COMMENT someone made, (must have been SOME comment), which "offended" someone, and then, they, to 'sort' them out, "planted" drugs on this person, a 'teacher', I think. And then, this person, got, you know, in trouble, probably. But now, obviously, every 'thing' is "all" right. Person could buy a boat now. Now, the person, can hope is, return to 'normal' work, and the students can, in time, do so well that, they buy this person, a 'boat', if they wanted. Yeah. I guess this makes for a "happy" ending.

The Take Away, or Moral, of the "story" would be: Don't fuck with people. Get a thick skin. People are going to say things about you. How bad can it be? Bad enough to plant drugs on someone in order to 'sully' their "reputation"? Fuck that fuck! Talk about hooping up some BAD kharma for yourself. Dumb Move, to say the least. Stupid, outright. Don't do chickenshit like that. Get over it, you know? Sheesh!

Inconclusive Crap

Well, 45 minutes later, and, though my nurse practitioner didn't say anything about what happened or what actually was done, well, she thinks nothing much is, as far as signs go, nothing is probative. So, maybe that's why. Didn't get much of a bead on any thing. Seems like we all just wasted one another's time. Well, that's idiotic of life. Very dumb.

We'll Be Done In Just A Moment

 We'll be done in just a moment, it says but of course it's been saying this in a pop up for almost 2 days now. Such is the life of a patient man on wifi router hook up and nothing else better to do for the time being. Of course, we'll pop down every now and then to check up on the laundry we should have been doing hours and hours ago, but we've been terribly busy reading. Yes, reading. Damn straight. Enough of that wonderful beautiful stuff. We're reading now a book called:
STORIES I TELL MYSELF, by JUAN FITZGERALD THOMPSON. I highly recommend it.