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

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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!!!!!!!

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.

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?

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.

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....

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.

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!
--------------
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?

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!

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.

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?

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.

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.

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!!

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.

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.

LATEST ENTRY, MAYBE LAST FOR THE MONTH/YEAR

TEXT FUN FONT

Lucida Grande. It's close to Garamond...and why they don't have that, I'll never know, however, I know at least with this programme, I can type elsewhere, and I can fix that. I can fix it now or later. I can write in whatever, on whatever I suppose, and then post and then from there, view and have others look and view and that will be just peachy.

Hello, it's me again. Saw OMEGA MAN mach 2 the other day with mom. We're going to Rancho today at 9 and hope is we'll find some good stuff with the hooded zip up jacket with a bit of thermal wrapped in...maybe some insulated booties with sure grip sole. Hella drive. Have to try out the Camry. The hybrid one. Mine stays home on this with a full tank of petrol.

HAPPY FESTIVUS FOR THE REST OF US!!

May all of you find the remote device you love and be forever connected, no dropped calls or lost files. Publish Post. Sell CD. Wear whatever. Never get chastised, and always be happy...or at least have minimal chagrin prospects now and then to give balance to your multi-faceted journey, this thing called life...the way to death. (That ugly in some ways final arbiter of what is and what isn't. What we all will face at some time in the "future", for good or ill.)

Listen to some happy music. Listen to some sad. Cry every now and then. It gets out the impurities. Drink a lot of pure water too. Enjoy.

Thanks for stoping by these snowy woods this evening.

----WILLIAM

Drunk As A Skunk Here; Feelin' Fine.

Some one once said: "I'm in love with her, and I feel fine." I find that when I am in love with her, all my troubles begin. I feel and want and yearn and have nothing to say. I'd be an ass and it'd be inappropriate to tell her, hey, you know what? I can't get you out of my mind. I mean, I think about you night and day. Help me. I need your help. It's a sickness, or something like that. She'd laugh in my face if she did any thing or give me the number of a 24hr. hot line, of this I am certain.
Hey, have you ever tried one of those "dating services"? She once said to me. No, I replied. I can't do that. I can't join some "speaker's club", as another gal I know once suggested. It's awful, terrible. I can't relate. I can't rely on any thing.
Imagining all these connectivity issues. Getting together doing this that or the other, but nothing, nothing ever happens. I see/meet with this that or the other person, but nothing, nothing ever happens. I don't get it, as it were.
There's more to this, I know. I think I can work it into a story. At least I hope so, certainly. I need to do it. It has to happen. There is nothing else for me. I have to do this. This is what I do.
DATELINE: Cancun, Mexico. Hot weather in MAY, 2008. I am here with my family and we are away from the nortenos for a brief respite and hope is a bit of pull-over buying and even some drunken revelry. I certainly hope so. Hops today, courtesy of Samuel Adam's HALLERTAU
Imperial Pilsner, an intense Hop Experience. 10 bucks for the 4 pack. Not bad if you like the thing. Need to eat though. Will have to break out the bread and lay down the turkey, thin sliced, with a single sheet of mild mozzarella. All on plain Potato Bread, smeared with Grape Seed oil sandwich moistener.
There is too much to read in life and not enough body physicality to get into it and all before you're hurting or dead. Nope, not enough time. Too bad too, people have worked long and hard to get you those words on pages of books you will never read. Shame. Such a sad, and genuinely depressing shame.
The good life would be that I could write this or write to you or speak live at you from the Mexican digs of my Dad's in Ajijic, Jalisco, Mex. before getting on a plane to Cancun, this May, and all that with my portable device no bigger than a deluxe bar of soap, and connected to the WORLD WIDE WEB via satellite or whatever, still connected to my server/service, and not having to pay my pirated body parts to do it.
However, life isn't like that. It is like this: You can do this now, real simple. And the truth of it is, you CANNOT!!! That's what's so inexplicably fucked and what I hate like hell in life, what life in REALITY is. That's what sucks!

My Whitechapel - Introduce Yourself Entry...

CommentAuthorpisgah
CommentTimeNov 30th 2007 edit (6.388)
368 of these things so far, eh? Pretty good. But I haven't the faintest idea of how to go about creating any thing clever. I can't figure out how to put one of my stupid pictures on here or any thing. I won't lie and say I'm a writer or drug addict or supposed religious nut or any of those other suckeyed mule type of things. I will type professionally and there won't be any intentional typos on this damn thing either. The writing will be neat and transposed. I won't be able to write to you from a mobile device in some pub some where for the simple reason I'd have to drive, and I won't drive drunk. I can't. Sure, I could, but I won't. I'd rather say hello and hope that something clicks. Some day it might but I really think it won't. Not pessimistic, just realistic...I try. I really do...but, if this is effort, you and maybe I can some day see that we know why, it really wasn't ever going to be that I'd be a full time paid writer and loved my life a lot as a result. No. I'm just a frustrated monorail pilot in Orange County some where. Maybe Shell City, maybe not. Maybe in Florida, maybe not. You decide. This is your chance to reject or accept. I am out of the picture. I refuse to accept responsibility with it any more. I'm the stupid git who bought a pen I can't get refills for. I'm the gat-damned idiot who quit my one dentist and went with another and found out later after buying a 700.00 lava/coral tooth cover, that my dentist office doesn't do fridays...I have fridays off...so what the f-ning hell? Why would I blow off a day at work to be in the dentist office on a day to get the tooth cover for which I can't afford because I'm skipping work? I quit my old time dentist because I was tired of getting a crown every time I went in. It was too much. Now, I have a half and a temporary. What is it all about? Grinding and not sleeping. Snoring and apnea....who knows. Who knows. I don't really care for these things. They are a waste of time. Who does them? You hear about people doing them and you wonder. And then you go about reading books. It's not Alphaville. It's Zeroville. Just read Steve Erickson's latest. I love it. Great read. Most accesible book of his to date. Still spilling his philosophy and all, and I'd like to meet with him again some day...same goes for Warren...hard to imagine I'm older than Warren and younger than Steve. Both are with gorgeous lovely women and have careers and are happy. I have neither. Oh well...not going to feel sorry for myself...no sense there...I would and have traded the idea of marriage for the struggle of writing and maybe getting to where I can have some stuff to sell...I have a thing or two and no one thinks a bit to say to me. It's crap obviously and no one with any money to buy is looking because I haven't got it to them...every one here is probably here because in their quietest moments they're lonely for some damn reason. It's a world out there or in here and there's something to it but yet I can't help but feeling that there's a...there's some kind of gimp factor to it as well. People want something out of it. There's a kind of look at me thing to it...I just don't...get it...I don't know why I do it....I've wanted to delete all of this....several times...I've kept going...don't know why....I'll just stop. Hope it prints...is accepted...and try to do no more. I'm going to Pisgah to see a man about a dog. (Translation: I'm off to piddle around by my lonesome right now so let me go, unhindered.)

http://freakangels.com/whitechapel/comments.php?DiscussionID=6&page=8

It's the home page...there...they don't want wankers...too late...too bad I can't get my photos loaded in there. I have some nice photos of me...see the one of me on the boat in here...in '06. Freakin' nightmare I can't work the computer and software and know exactly what is what and what I don't have to piss and whine and be all angry and whatever about because it's really such a silly simple thing....fucking nightmare for me...I hate this shit.

ON FRIDAY, November 16th, Heard about The Iran Agenda?

FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 16th, 2007
The Ultimate Dog and Pony Show
Most “experts” claim and all seem to agree that that public spin of the United States and its efforts overseas and in the world at large and on the world stage and in hemispheric public mindsets, that it’s all a dog and pony show. Some kind of smiley diffidence laden bullfuckshitcrap deal of nothingness, misdirection and obfuscation, utilizing the classic prestidigitation when it comes to Iran & Iraq, Afghanistan, and even Darfur, in Africa.
Something else is really going on despite what’s getting reported in the papers. You can hear and you can read and you can figure out on your own that that crap they’re feeding you on CNN and the papers (what little happen to exist any more), is just that, CRAP! And I tell you mister, if you don’t bury it or shovel it away, and you work in it, you’re going to have respiratory and other “problems”, for the rest of your life. You won’t get a rest. It’ll kill you.
My life, my body, my psychic aura or something or another is trying to tell me something is wrong, but do I listen? Do I do any thing about it?
I need rest. I need to consider. I need to get straight what’s going on. What can I do? Where can I start? I do not know. I simply do not know, and it is a grave and troublesome phenomena in my life.
NO sooner do I get fixed with the cough and get rid of it, when I hurt my back. Or my back is hurting me. No sooner does that get cared for then I have my left ear clog up and cause discomfort with pressure and sound coming in all fragmented, buzzy, and crackly. What gives? What is going on? What is being said to me through these things and I assume more, that I’m not getting?
What is the message? I need a vacation. I need a new job. I am grateful for what I have and what I have is not all paid for yet. Brand new car really. First year of 5 for paying for it has come to an end or will be done next month, for it was a year ago then that I “bought” it. Which when you get a loan you get it paid for by a loan company and then you pay the loan company back with interest, causing the car to cost even more, but, what can you do? YOU can’t afford to pay cash outright for a car. You’re a loser. You don’t have any thing but good credit. Who the fuck are you?
The car’s 7 + years old but it’s brand new really as it’s cherry in condition, so far…the vanity mirror folding thing on the driver’s side sun visor fell out several months ago. But so what? That’s nothing. Hurts. But, you know, it’s one of those things you’ll let go and not fix because it’d cost more than you could believe and you don’t want to hassle it.
You can’t find the clothes you have to wear and yet you want to buy more. In fact, you get coupons and you get to the stores on the way home from work and you’re tired and out of sorts and you go to a store and try clothing on. FUCKING EXPENSIVE CLOTHING, that really costs too much and then you think how it’s going to be paid for…trying to find a way. You still have not got your payment for your coral/lava tooth cap/crown figured out. And for today, the dentist was going to get you fitted/situated with it, but dammit all her subordinates canceled your appointment. You tried for another but no go. What’s going on there? What gives? What doesn’t really. What doesn’t give is your dream of writing for a living…in a world where no one really needs writers. No one needs to pay them really.
Some one said once, the writers are on strike. Go to Hollywood, network man, network. Do they understand striking writers don’t need or cannot possibly help folks to whom they’d have competition from, coming up to them on their picket line and asking how they became writers or just who their agents are so that they the would be crank on the street can become a writer too? But it’s done with good will. It’s gone done with decent intentions and I appreciate it like hell. I really do. But it’s not how it’s done, is it? What is the way? How? NO one has read my script and the one person who did want to read simply didn’t respond. Maybe because it was in such a piece of crap state. But I did fix it and it rocks now and is perfect and all but so what? I have to look as a project, for my novella of it and get it going and see what’s what there and make that happen. Get that an agent. Go from there.
Ultimately it is about us. What do we do? What’s next? Where do we go from here and what do we do to get there?
The U.S. is doomed as a country if we can’t get it by for of the people and have if the really smart people seem to know what’s really going on, our tarnished trashed and ultimately damaged world view image resuscitated on the world stage, and get to where we need to be, get going, and get out of here. Moving on. Moving on. Moving on.

JUST WANT TO...

Oh, I just want to write. I want to read. I want to be able to sit and read and write all day for months on end and not have to worry one whit about bills rent or being a loser or getting caught lying, cheating, breaking the law, having the law invade my house or houses or homes...or picking up my car in the middle of the night, or any thing else like that. I want the continued joy of putting my thoughts on paper on the internet and having people like them so much so as to pay me to do so and pay me for promoting things too. That's what I want. I don't want to have to do any thing else.

The Game Is Played In Pain

Yeah, sure, but it can keep one from playing or playing well too. Sure, deal with the hand we're dealt, Warren Hinckle (Who Killed Hunter Thompson?--The next Oral History of Hunter S. Thompson due...?) once wrote a book that was titled words to the general effect of the old saw: If Life Gives You Lemons, Make Lemonade. Sure, Lemonade. That's good with limes and rum. Good rum, with fresh crushed iced and mint leaves. Spearmint, Peppermint(?) and ? I don't know. What else would you want in it? More rum? Vodka? Never mind, just don't mix it with explosives or driving or any thing stupid like that. Just sit back with friends and read at that point. Watch a ball game. We don't need any thing mean or violent. It just causes pain. It hurts, and life interfere's with plans enough: My Ship Came In While I Was At The Airport Catching A Plane. And that pretty much can sum up life at times as I've found it at least.
You finally get that pair of pants or locate those beautiful mountain climbing "approach" shoes you'd been wailing about and they're moth eaten or something....the bottoms fall out or every time you put them on you get athlete's foot. Terrible thing. What now? What do you do then? Buy new ones? They don't make them any more. Buy something else or just move on and try like hell not letting it get you down. That's the main thing, because there's more life to be lived and its yours to live and share with others and freedom aint free but you have to do something about it any way.
Yeah, that's what life is. You tell yourself no more books. Read the ones you have and you go right ahead and buy more. You have to stay inspired. Somehow some how you'll find a way to write read pay bills work your job etc. Somehow. Some how. Some way, on and on and on. Moving On.

----KEN.

Seven Thousand Dollar Dental Visit. Or, I Got A Loan From the Stage Coach Company I'll Have 6 Months To Pay

FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 2nd, 2007
MY DENTIST IS HOT but so what? If your dentist has to be asked to get you new toothbrushes…if your dental hygienist is different every time, then there’s a problem…and, esp. sic. Every time you go in there, there’s a “crown” required, on a tooth that of course isn’t fully covered by the highest dental program/coverage plan you have through your work, RUN! Run like fucking hell!!! Sure, you’ll have all the latest knick-knacks and gew-gaws of technical machinations. There’s a TV/computer screen and screen savers about porcelain veneers and they’re all photo-shopped to hell I’m sure. In two week’s time the prison factory tooth designer/builder team is ready with another crown, zero metal in this one thank goodness, but dammit all, I’m sure YOUR doctor won’t be there to put it in. Uh-unnh. She’s going to be on maternity leave, delivering her second (I’m guessing.) baby. WTF?! I’m tired of all this crap. A co-worker said the other day: People really should get hobbies. (Pointing to all the strollers he has to corral.) I think it’s true. This world is a fucked place, not just because all the medical crap is bogus and unnecessary, but with the way the world is going…the pain and fear of bills and payment schedules…having to scrimp and not buy any thing and do without all the time, just blows. Just absolutely blows. What the fucking bloody hell are people going to be working at? What jobs are there? What are people going to do? What the fuck is there to do? As far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing, absolutely nothing, which is why the arguments for not living are really appealing right about now. It’s a fucking waste being here. What am I here for? What are we here for? There’s nothing coming. We can’t get out of here with any thing, so, what’s the fucking point? What indeed? One can only conclude: Have Fun While Here. Fuck Around. So, how do we do this? Make a bunch of money and party. That’s about it. Have fun while doing it…else-wise, it’s a complete waste of carbon we are.

The War We Should Really Protest

Fine and well for the present day Iraq conflict, but it's really a waste of time. What we should really protest (as if it would be any affect good/bad), is the IRAN invasion, you know? That's the one we really must protest and get rid of the present ruler in office's job over.

WORDS AND MUSIC TO FOLLOW...

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 13th, 2007

HAVE THIS TALE TO TELL, that isn’t easy to relate. The subject (one point in it), is about “suicide”, and that has always been a “sensitive” one for me. I was once asked by my friend Tim Kahle: “Have You Ever Thought About Killing Yourself?” because, he said, I always seemed so frustrated. I told him that, “suicide is definitely OUT of the question”, and so that was that. At the time, I believed in GOD and that that was the deal there where you didn’t do that sort of thing, etc. I didn’t explain that to him or any thing but there you are. I remember walking down the street once screaming up at the heavens for god to kill me or something like that. I don’t know what I was pissed at, but, was angry and wanted things to end…I didn’t know Tim at the time. This was way before I’d even left Eader Elementary School. In fact, it was on the way to it with a friend or something…maybe on my way home or something, on the next housing tract over and it was raining or something and I shouted up at the sky and cursed or damned or something and I was cautioned by a friend and I stopped and sort of just ran mute a moment…considering what my friend had said. It cooled me off. He said something about not doing that or something. I don’t know….don’t know who it was or what was said or any thing now. Nothing. I recall nothing from that but what I’ve told you just now.

What I want to write, and put in a blog, is a bit painful, because it mentions the topic of suicide and goes on to other things and all and it’s not the whole point of every thing, but, it’s there and is a very real and sensitive thing for me.

I used to not want to read things from authors who killed themselves, because I thought it would rub off on me. Though I know very well that good can come from bad/sad things people do and all and that that isn’t the full measure of a person, an artist who decided somehow to end their life, reject the gift and all its facets, and end it…and I just…I don’t know; I’ve never been there and I hope right now I NEVER do get to or am ever IN that circumstance. I hope to never EVER be there. EVER!

Now, whatever this is, the current journal entry being written and that you are reading now, and or the “essay” I may or may not be able to conceive in cyberspace, it’s not every thing; it is only just a mere participle, a brief wisp or vapor of what I’ve been able to find, and then, to describe in my words using what god/fate/whatever given power or “talent” I have for “insight” or capability for composing WORDS, in such a “fashion”, so as to come (maybe) somewhat close, to what I have in mind, to “describe” what I think/feel, that “life” is. Its essence. That’s really all of what I want to do and I want others to think that hey; this guy was really able to express himself well, and, had some kind of wow “handle” on what life really is. That’s really all I want in life. That’s the basic “gist” or nut of it. Course, it’d be FANTASTIC too, to be able to sell it and not have to work these stupid “jobs” and all. To be able to do something that people write about me on in the newspapers that people read and all. Yeah, that’s what I want. Hope is, I can do that and with that “notoriety”, also be able to make some changes at large for the world when I’m there and esp. sic., for when I’m gone. Some kind of “cause” or something.

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Though feeling pressed, today was a terrifically “successful” day, and I got a HELL of a LOT done. I mean, sheesh, you wouldn’t believe. I bought even more Parker Jotter Ballpoint Pens. None of which I need. One Avocado Green and One Brown and a journal and a pool part or 2 and some food here and there and though my Bronchitis or whatever is with me still these 4 weeks, I’ve put in some more movie viewing and pool maintenance and all, and I’m very proud of myself, though I would have loved to have just been able to have sat down and read myself silly the whole day. What would I have written? I need more time. We all do. It’s crazy. What do I do? What does any one do?

I don’t have the same constraints that others my age have or younger than me do. I don’t want what the bulk of people my age have. I’d rather have what folks who are way younger and who read and write and get published and get movies made of their words and get some time on film get…I want what they have. I’m sorry, but that is what it is. That is what it is all about for me. That’s what I want, who I am and every thing such as this.

Hope to write something about a journal entry or three I’ve a rough draft of, in a day or so, and I hope as well, to have a addition to the blog where I said I would have photos of the Lazarus book? Well, I hope to have them and to end that saga of my work with my old friend Carmina Crittenden, now, something else, which escapes me at the moment, conveniently. She’s married and has a lovely daughter, and like her brother TED, will I’m sure remain removed from me and my sphere of influence, a two-way street which, I think closed with the altering of their lives into marriage, I’m sad to say, much like some other people I know that got married. Sad. Too Bad. Oh Well.

It would have been best in life to have worked with both Ted and Carmina continuously throughout the rest of our lives. Now, it seems to me, this will never happen. Someone else I know from away far away, both in time and in distance, will never work out either. In my life, this is how it IS. I don’t have a “reality” like every one else’s. Definitely not like they have it in the movies. That is a fucking farce.

IN A PERFECT WORLD...

In a perfect world, the cover photo of today's Los Angeles Times, would have not the beautiful tear-strewn face of the Olympic runner, but instead, show the craggy visage of President Bush on it, apologizing for invading Iraq, esp. sic. under false pretenses.

WELCOME TO OCTOBER, I'VE GOT MINE!!!

MONDAY, OCTOBER 1st, 2007
FINALLY, IT COMES, I HAVE NOW MY G6 COMM.UNIT!
Yes, I’m writing to you from it now, as I speak, or, if I choose, I can flip out the folding keypad (It’s wireless, from another manufacturer, but, compatible, from the get-go.) so that I can actually write, but it’s just for quick notes on the road and I’ll have to go through this on my desktop or laptop later, and clean it up a bit I’m sure. I’ll even leave in all this sidebar commentary.
Yes, you have that right: G6 digital technology CommUnit. Yes-sir! The system is up and I can speak on phone to Mexico and from Mexico (The United States of Mexico) to Guam or Puerto Rico or Peru, Brazil, Argentina or Paraguay. I can use it in Saudi Arabia, and speak to the United States of America and from Europa to Canada or wherever the hell I want. Of course it’s not a satellite “phone” unit, (Is it? Why not?) I’d have to have my laptop broadcaster for that, but, in a pinch, without blocking/interference, I could speak via satellite that way if I so choose, because I do have UWB Ultra Wide Band wireless technology on it as well. (It’s like Blue Tooth on steroids, without losing your job when you’re found out, or getting cancer later on from it.) And I can hook my laptop to my CommUnit with wireless or wired technology, and be up on the net with the Unit being the online part and then hooked wire wise, with my laptop charging my 10 hour battery. Yes, you heard correct. 10 hours! Got it right finally. Damn battery and power/usage, that’s worth a fricken toot and a half, and how!!!
MP3 player. 16,000 song titles, not one thousand 600. 16 thousand. I can easily download from wherever more titles, but prefer just to get my cds at home and put it on my computer to the software and simply zip it over to my CommUnit.
AM/FM and yeah, hell, digital and Satellite radio. Why not? It’s what I want and some times need if I’m on the road and I don’t want just the vast array of beautiful recorded music I have on hand.
I can record still and moving images with my Carl Zeiss lens. I am a reporter after all. I can do that. I have then recall for stories I write in the fiction line I also come up with, but mainly, it’s for travel blog, the bulk of my work. There is also the voice recorder to zip down thoughts faster than my hands can crunch on the physical qwerty keypad, for on the fly stuff.
AND what else? What else is there? I’ve got a phone a camera a diction machine, I can play music and I do use ear buds or headphones wired to the unit and I prefer it that way. So too, ear/microphone for talking on the phone. Wired. I prefer it that way. As good as Blue Tooth or UWB are, I still want one step away from the prying ears. (I know, they can still get the signal and listen in, but I’d like to keep the aesthetics not too fancy. Besides, I absolutely hate them earpieces. They keep turning themselves off and are uncomfortable, and look ugly.) This way too, it’s a definite on/off thing for me. On or Off the phone. Now, I know exactly what you might be thinking. What if you’re listening to music and the call comes through? Ever heard of Voice Mail? Text? I can do both, as well as pause or stop the music where it is, getting back to it later exactly in the same spot as before to speak out loud to the caller, using the ear buds for stereo music now for phone use, or switch things out. Yes, two cords.
People hate strings attached. Confusing. Tangling…but not me. Not hard for me. I don’t have a problem with it and could go wireless that way if I want at a later date when they get those damn things done better. Don’t consider they ever will. It was a bear and a half to get my geek friends to produce this little unit. How ugly is it? How beautiful? It’s both and neither. It can be put into any existing phone you have now if you want. I usually keep it in the Nokia N98. But they don’t have the Nokia…only for you they don’t buster, only for you. For me, it’s a different story.