Sissification Of A Generation

Previously at the LoL
CLICKY: No madder than…

I’d been thinking about writing again on The Fourth Turning when Thoughtful Man sent me a video yesterday morning via Arse-about-Face Book. It showed one Millennial dissecting the views of another…

The Millennial Generation (Hero, born 1982–2004) first arrived amid “Babies on Board” signs, when abortion and divorce rates ebbed, the popular culture recast babies as special, and hands-off parental styles were replaced by Lamaze and attachment-parenting obsessiveness. Child abuse and child safety became hot topics, while books teaching virtues, values, and team-playing citizenship became best-sellers.

Perhaps that explains…

Virtue Signalling

signal (n.) late 14c., “visible sign, indication,” from Old French signal, seignal “seal, imprint, sign, mark,” from Medieval Latin signale “a signal,” from Late Latin signalis (adj.) “used as a signal, pertaining to a sign,” from Latin signum “identifying mark, sign” (see sign (n.)). Restricted sense “agreed-upon sign” (to commence or desist, etc.) is from 1590s. Meaning “modulation of an electric current” is from 1855.

When I think of the previous Hero generation (born 1901 – 1924) that came of age during the last Fourth/Winter/Crisis Turning (1929 – 1945)…

*Hmm… anything on ‘values from 80 years ago, Clicky?*

*Interesting. How about child safety?*

*Ha!*

As Millennials began reaching their teens in the late 1990s, youth volunteering and community service surged—while teen rates of drinking, smoking, and violent crime declined steeply.

Appeasement didn’t work before, it’s doubtful it will work any better this time and I have to wonder what effect the hyperbolic Health education campaigns started the 1980s to protect ‘the children’ by ‘denormalising‘ smoking has had to the Heroes of today and their ability to accurately assess risk…

*Eww… Retweeted by the Abhorrent Toad… Can’t stand that tosser…*

Sissy

Enough of cowards for tonight, Dear Reader. Have a Song…

 

Daze Of Yore…

I thought that today I would start with a Song, Dear Reader, as this post will feature an extract from the scribblings mum was writing for me and my sister Juju before she died. It’s about her mother, Eileen… my Nanny Packer

*******

Extract from ‘A Family History for Ruth and Julia (Gawd ‘Elp Us!**)’, a.k.a. ‘The Ma Papers’ by Judith Eileen Newton (formerly Shewan, née Packer)

Now comes the hard part, my immediate family. Do I write nicely or do I write warts and all?

What can I say about Eileen? My Mum was a lovely lady even though I had loads of ups and downs with her. She was funny and intelligent and very obstinate. In a way I feel that she was held down all her life, and had quite a big chip on her shoulder because of it. She was the second eldest daughter and because Mary, the eldest, was living with her Grandmother (referred to as Grammum), a lot was put on Eileen’s shoulders work-wise; she felt that she had been a skivvy all her life.

She always believed she was plain and Ann, who was born only ten months after her, was the pretty one, getting more attention than her. She remembers that she was bony and never smiled, and that Ann was cuddly and fluffy, using her charms to get out of doing things.

Nanny Alger kept having children so the brunt of the work fell onto Eileen. She gave birth to fourteen children but Eileen remembers her mother as always being pregnant. There were several miscarriages and often Eileen was sent off to the chemist with a note, a shilling and a cup. She would bring back some liquid for her mother to take. Although she never knew what it was, I think it was a substance called ‘slippery elm‘, which was an age old remedy for unwanted pregnancies (it was still around when I was fertile I never had to take it because the pill was out but it might still be around now).

I just watched an episode of ‘Rome‘ and I believe that was what was used on a poor lady so it probably used for hundreds of years.

Eileen left school at 14 years old and went to work at Peek Freans. Apparently the factory came to the school to see all the girls and took them all on to work at the factory, which was in Drummond Road. Then they sacked all the 18 year olds because they had to pay adult rates at 18, replacing them with 14 year olds. People say ‘the good old days’ but imagine having no security or education, and knowing that you were like cattle rather than individuals.

Incidentally they had no secondary schools or further education in those days unless you had money. You started school at 5, if your parents were that way inclined, and left at 14. The boys, if they were lucky, were taken on as apprentices and parents had to sign papers called indentures (no, Julia, nothing to do with teeth lol). They had to work for the employers for 5 years and then they had an exam to prove that they were qualified in their skills, before being sent into the big wide world to ply their trade. A carpenter or electrician or tailor would take a new boy on every year. Those boys and their parents considered themselves lucky if they were indentured. And you can see how women were kept down – the only choice was factory work, maids, or waitressing. Remember it was not that long after women’s suffrage.

Because of the area they lived in was right on the docks, lots of the boys’ dads were dockers or stevedores, and they had to have a ticket to work. It was always a foregone conclusion that the a boy would get a job in the docks if his father worked there, as it was usually kept in the family. Funnily enough none of Granddad Alger’s sons wanted to work in the docks.

God I do digress

Eileen for some reason was not put on the production line but in the kitchen of the staff canteen. I think it was because of Aunt Mary, who already worked there – she pulled strings through her husband and got Eileen an easier job (I would rather be on the production line any day). I think it was because Mary thought they would get more to eat if Eileen was in the kitchen because food a home was not plentiful; adequate but certainly not plentiful.

Can you imagine living in a house that was straining at the seams and just Granddad Alger Working? You had a breakfast and an evening meal. No crisps, no chocolate bars, no fizzy drinks. Life was barren, but fortunately Eileen would buy 6 penny worth of broken biscuits, the only luxury.

Eileen had no choice: Nanny Alger was dependent on her wages and that’s how life was in those days. She carried on for a couple of years and then one day she prepared prunes and custard for afters, and instead of prunes she opened a tin of pickled walnuts and served them up with custard. She got the sack. She was coming up to 18 anyway, so got herself a job with J Lyons and Co as a waitress. In those days Joe Lyons had a tea shop in every high street, and he also had posh tea shops in the West End called Corner Houses. The high street shops were very reasonable.

Ordinary people used them all the time if they had the money, but the Corner Houses were special for high days and holidays. You could walk through the ground floor and posh sales assistants would sell you special handmade chocolates, beautiful gateaux and deli like smoke salmon and such. Even when I was a teenager they were still around but they were self service places by then.

The waitresses were called ‘Nippies‘ because they gave fast and quick service (take that how you will), and Eileen was fast, so was quickly promoted to Gold Star Waitress. She was sent all over the country, wherever she was needed. She even went on a course in Jersey somewhere. She was born in 1910 and in those days manpower was cheap and service was expected at all times. She even served at the Ideal Home Exhibition when Edward the 8th came for the opening.

There was not a lot to do in those days for leisure except going to the pictures, parading up and down looking good, and the odd, rare dance. Eileen was really into fashion and always had her clothes made in the East End, but she said she always got the rough boy and Ann got the handsome one. The pictures of her show her looking very smart and she was good looking, but she never smiled and it makes her look standoffish.

Funny but I always had the same problem, people in the street would say to me, “cheer up it might never happen!” when I was perfectly happy and not aware I looked miserable. Julia is the same – we have just got miserable faces, I suppose. Ruth on the other hand lives in a world of her own and is totally oblivious to anybody even calling out…

*******

*Ah, so he was knot King then, Clicky?*

I have another post brewing on The Fourth Turning, Dear Reader, so will be back soon with that. In the meantime, do enjoy the flowers placed on the sidebar, sent from The Okie Devil, as described in his last missive

… And enjoy the Song ❤

Missive From ‘Merica: ENCORE!!!

A treat for you now, Dear Reader…

*I know! …/claps hands…*

… Cade has sent through another missive, detailing an unexpected invitation and a visit a cemetery… Enjoy! 😀

*******

WHAZZUP?!?!?!?!???
^twenty one pilots: Stressed Out [OFFICIAL VIDEO]^

Was just cruising Craigslist for jobs.

Was just thinking.

I spend $24 a week on snuff/tobacco.

DUDE! That’s $96 a month that you, as an unemployed loser, would have in your pocket if you stopped chewing tobacco.

Q: What about those 30 days? Where would they be?

A: ???
30 days time 24 hours = 720 hours.
720 hours = 43,200 minutes.

Q: What’s your time worth to you?

A: ?¿?

Q: Since when did my time become your time?

A: ¿?¿

Q: Does that make your time my time?

A: ¿¿¿

Got the time?

^Depeche Mode – Policy Of Truth [Beat Box Mix]^

I actually wrote the above thought last week. Today is Wednesday June 21st. It’s 08:45 in the morning on an extremely blue day.

The Crepe Myrtles are blooming like crazy. Two pinks, and two purples. One of the purples is so ridiculously deep, I shake the tree slightly so that some of the blooms will fall among the grass, and the purple contrasts with the green that is absolutely beautiful in the bright sun. Hell, it’s beautiful on an overcast day as well. It almost glows. Whodathunk that a deep purple and a deep green would contrast on a cloudy day to create something that glows?

Anyway, across the street, there are neighbors that have some of these same trees that are various reds, and further down, there are some whites, a blue. When they come out…the entire street looks absolutely stunning. I mean, yeah…it’s still the ghetto

…full of illegal immigrants,

white trash,

niggers,

terrorists,

drug addicts,
unemployed losers who are sucking the government tit dry
and other various assorted hood-rats...

but not everyone can be you.

^Information Society – What’s On Your Mind (Pure Energy) (Club Mix)^

So…dude…why are you writing…yet again…instead of shutting the FUCK up and leaving?

Things change mang and/or mangette.

Such as…yesterday, I received an unexpected phone call. Yeah, all phone calls I receive are unexpected, but this one was from my mother. Yesterday was my younger sister’s birthday, and I had texted her earlier to wish her an HBD, so I figure that her and my mother prolly spoke and there was a comment to the effect of…

“Junebug texted me to wish me a happy birthday…do ya’ll ever talk?”

…hence

…big mamma called me.

But it gets weird from there.

^The Terminator Theme (1984) Live Cover^

I dropped by CFrank Davis’ new Smoky-Drinky chatroom and irritated the fuck out of everyone with my spitting and ugly-assed face. I didn’t even think about it until Frank made a recording of it…at which point I realized that the mic from my headset is right by my goddamn pie-hole, and I’m spitting into a cup. I must admit that the reverb was/is amazing.

Lolz

Anyway…watching that guy play the theme from The Terminator movie in the video above, and thinking about telling people what they can and cannot do…it got me to thinking about things that we do that we may not realize that we do. Especially if it is something that we do that someone else does NOT do, or maybe even something that they also do…they just do it differently.

Spitting…for example. Everyone spits at some point.

OH! You don’t?

Quick Observation: It says RIGHT FUCKING THERE on the toothpaste tube label…’Do not swallow’.

You might wanna read the label, chief.

The short being…yeah…I guess you do spit afterall.

I spit quite a bit, and not just because I chew tobacco. Meaning: I spit a lot, and don’t drink much. I will sometimes keep snuff in my mouth most of the day, and do not drink while I have a wad of tobacco in my mouth.

But then again…I have difficulty with swallowing. My mouth and throat are pretty much devoid of much of the machinery that aids with the mastication and swallowing process(es)…but you wouldn’t know that…would you? I mean, why would you? You’re only worried about my spit when in comes out. You couldn’t give a shit about any of my difficulties, so long as they are “my difficulties” and not “your difficulties.”

^Level 42 – Something About You – Razormaid ( Remastered )^

Just thinking about how to better describe elements as facilitators of energy, and not so much as sources of energy, in the way we like to think of them. Reason being is that I see the creation of large tympanic/temp-panic types of membranes at points of collision, within some of these reactions, that are being generated by high energy machines.

And I'm not just talking about colliders and/or accelerators, nor even explosive devices. 

And what I have been seeing more and more is a 4-pointed star embedded within a torus. I think what is being missed, is that for every calculation “inside” as to the resulting set and sets, is the calculations “outside”, that make the resulting set and sets calculations inside…possible. Not trying to be vague there, but I have no idea how else to describe it.

For every single calculation set for a specified purpose, is a coexisting secondary set that makes the calculation of the first set possible.

Layers. Does that help?
^Trentemøller: Moan (Official music video)^

MA: I was going to drive and and visit your uncle’s grave this afternoon. You wanna ride along?

CADE: Sure.

MA: Really?!?!? You do?!?!?

CADE: Yesssss….

MA: Well…um…ok…that’s…good. Are you dressed?

CADE: No. I’m sitting here naked.

MA: …

CADE: Yes mother…I am in fact…dressed/wearing clothes.

MA: OK…well…um…I’m still getting dressed and putting my makeup on.

CADE: Just tell me a time, and I’ll be ready.

It’s about 20 miles out to the cemetery where he is buried. She said that she had not been out to visit in a while, and also needed to check as to the location of 4 additional plots that she owns in this particular cemetery, as she is going to sell them.

CADE: These 4 plots are not currently occupied…right?

MA: They better not be.

I had my smartass on the whole way out there, and we laughed and cutup at the usual stupidity and ridiculousness of life. She couldn’t remember which road to exit on, so every single road that passed, she was SURE that we had missed the exit.

CADE: You know mom…that’s the good thing about panic. It teaches us how not to.

MA: I’M NOT PANICKING!!!

CADE: Whatever you say.

MA: <laughs>

CADE: At every exit missed, there is another exit down the line. We can turn around.

MA: Actually, I think it’s further up. I don’t think we’ve missed the exit.

CADE: Well, if we have missed the exit, at least there’s been no shortage of exits we’ve missed.

MA: I was just really surprised that you wanted to come out here with me.

CADE: Why is that?

MA: I don’t know. I just figured you wouldn’t want to come.

CADE: So what are you planning on doing out here today with these 4 grave sites you own? Are you gonna put up a sign that says “COMING SOON!!!” or something?

MA: <laughs>…noooooo…I just want to know where they are. I don’t know where they are. I want to be able to advertise where they are.

CADE: Sounds like a good policy to have with respect to unoccupied graves that potentially could have your name on them…not knowing where they are.

MA: We bought them, me and your father did, to have in the event that someone died and had no place to be buried.

CADE: Smart thinking. I’m glad they remain open and unoccupied.

I sure hope that I personally have not been a disappointment in that regard.

^Boston 168 – Oblivion [ODDEVEN004]^

The conversation in this Smoky-Drinky chatroom has been quite good, I think. I prefer to listen more than speak, but yeah…damned interesting stuff. Lots of people trying to figure shit out. But I have noticed lots of numbers being used within the context of certain scopes. Percentages. Odds. Averages. Lotta columns to think about there. I wonder if they’ll stand? LET’S SEE!!!

1 = 1.

 500,000 = 1.

 73% = 1.

        27% = 1.

       100% = 1.

        1 v 1

Yep...that's all there is.

Mystery = WHATEVER! Let’s Us Continue, Eh?

^ROYKSOPP – What Else Is There (trentemoller remix)^

We spent about 30 minutes wandering through the cemetery in the hot afternoon sun looking for my uncle’s grave. Watching my mom hobble around on her bum foot eventually got to be too much for me, and I suggested maybe that she wander her hobbly-footed ass back to the car, drive up to the information center, and they should be able to point us to within 1/2 mile or so of his approximate location. Not that I minded wandering through the cemetery. I read many of the names aloud as I read and pondered the lives that lay before my feet.

Many years, and many miles traveled. Many promises of “together forever” on many of these tombstones. However, I started to notice a trend of many “side-by-side” types of graves, that one side had an “occupied” and one side had a “reserved”, that appeared as tho it was always going to remain empty. There was a name and a birth date, but no death date. I started to crunch some numbers in my head, based on the birth dates, odds of still living, odds of remarrying or finding someone else in life, and then started to make mental notes as to just how many of these spaces there were…and there were a LOT of them. An unusually high amount of them considering the smallness of this particular cemetery.

I guess maybe we do stumble across others sometimes in life. I don’t think that is a bad thing. Then again, I just celebrated 2 months of being divorced. Not that I am looking for anyone, but I am certainly not NOT looking…just…whatever or something.

/shrug
^Get Far – Shining Star (OFFICIAL VIDEO)^

So…my dad is a Leo, mom = Taurus.

Dad born on 8-8, older sister died on 8-8.

There are 365 days in a year. What are the odds that a daughter dies on the same day her father was born? What if they both died of cancer? What the FUCK does cancer have to do with someone’s birthday?

I just remember how cold it was the day that we buried my uncle back in 1999. He died on Elvis Presley’s birthday…January 8th. Weird considering that my uncle was a HUGE Elvis fan. He had loads of rock-n-roll records from the 1950’s, and played a large role in introducing me to music from that period of time, when most of my other musical relatives had moved on to The Who, The Beatles and Pink Floyd. I personally like music from the 1960’s and early 1970’s…but I also hate it. I attribute most of the music from that period…not to love…but to violence.

Q: I wonder how much information weighs?

A: SAY FUCKING WHAT?!?!?!?!?

Yeah…I wonder how much information weighs. Gotta keep that contextual, since we are entities residing in gravity. Or, at least, residing within an arc of gravity that makes gravity a little more contextually pertinent, applicable and tangible.

^The Prodigy – Funky Shit (All Out Remix)^

MA: You are?!?!?

CADE: Yeah. Leaving next Monday. Whatshername is driving up to Oklahoma to go gambling, and I’ve asked her if she would drop me in Gainsville on her way up.

MA: Where are you going?

CADE: West.

MA: Do you have somewhere to go?

CADE: Yeah…west.

Ma: I mean…do you have somewhere to stay? A job opportunity?

CADE: Just looking. I wanna drop by Vernon and say hi to Granny before I head out further west. I may even head by Frederick since I’ve never been back there.

MA: Junior…I’ve been planning a trip to Vernon and Frederick for some time.

CADE: You have?

MA: Yes. I’m writing my memoirs. “So-and-so” and her daughter still live in Vernon, and they’ve been pestering me for some time to come and visit.

CADE: Oh really? I didn’t know she was still alive. Her daughter is about my age isn’t she?

MA: No, I think she was your older sister’s age.

CADE: Ah. Well…I seem to remember her now. Her husband is the one that had every disease known to mankind isn’t he?

MA: Yes. They did all kinds of testing and treatments and radical new therapy types on him.

CADE: He was a State Trooper as I recall.

MA: Until he couldn’t meet the physical requirements. Then county sheriff. Local police.

CADE: Anyone that would take him within his profession/trade and skill set.

We always had a lot of law enforcement types in and around our family. Lots of guns, lots of former military, lots of crazy stories. Prolly why I liked that movie “No Country For Old Men” so much. It’s setting in time brings back a lot of memories of violence in a violent time. Weird time for a kid to grow up in. Lots of movements and moving, lots of clashes and clashing.

^The Prodigy – Funky Shit Perplex Version^

CADE: OH SHIT!!! I FORGOT ABOUT THAT!!!

MA: Yeah…she was next in line for the inheritance, and she never had any children of her own. All of her children were adoptive children from her husband who already had children, got divorced, then remarried you great-aunt.

CADE: OMG!!! lolz…and all of the adopted children got all of the money, and all of the “family” children were left with nothing. lolz…I had COMPLETELY forgotten about that!!!

MA: There was a lot of turmoil. Lots of bitterness.

CADE: The kids of the kids felt that she should be excluded, because she had no children “of her own.” And if she died…

MA: All rights and monies died with her, and all rights and future monies became property of the corporation.

CADE: I remember all of that bickering and fighting.

MA: Do you remember that money I gave you a few years ago?

CADE: Wasn’t it like…$1,200? No…wait…

MA: I think each one of the children got a little under $400 each. It was a little under $1,200 total.

Cade: Yeah…that’s right. I remember that. It wasn’t much, but we needed it and it was welcome.

MA: I think that your great-aunt was getting somewhere around $100,000 every 3 years from the oil company.

CADE: That’s not very much considering what the oil companies were making.

MA: That’s still a lot of money.

Cade: Yeah…but so what. It’s all gone.

Not much of a trickle down from those who came before me. And yeah, it would have been cool to have a check for 5 billion dollars to suddenly appear in the mail. But I’m looking at the legacy aspect from a perspective that many don’t share. Which is weird, considering sharing is always on the minds of those who want me to share THEIR opinion and views on things. I mean, I see your point. I see your opinion. I understand it. I just do not agree that you opinion is right for me personally. Do you REALLY not see the irony in what you are asking of me, and yet refusing to give/provide in return?

MA: You know…she was a “black sheep.”

CADE: No she wasn’t. She wasn’t an actual <family name withheld>…she married into the family.

MA: No…she didn’t.

CADE: That’s what she told me when I spoke to her. Hell…I met her online, and contacted her via email to help her fill in some of the gaps in the family tree she was building online.

MA: Well…it turns out that she was an honest to goodness <family name withheld>…but she was…um…

CADE: A bastard?

MA: <sheepishly> The result of an extra-marital affair.

CADE: HOLY SHIT!!! That’s AWESOME!!! It all makes fucking sense now!!! THAT’S why she was so fucking interested in her “married-into side” of the family!!! It WAS her family…but they rejected her!!! SHE’S THE OTHER BLACK SHEEP!!!

MA: She’s dead now.

CADE: <thinking silently to self> No she isn’t. ❤

Thanks for everything you told me <name withheld>…I will do all I can to carry that information well.

^The Prodigy – Funky Shit (Mulder Exclusive Mix)^

CADE: So…mom…how does it feel to be 80 years ancient?

MA: You know that your aunt is 80 today?

CADE: OMG!!! I forgot that her and <sister’s name withheld> shared a birthday.

MA: She’s 80 today.

CADE: Doesn’t look a day under 130.

MA: <laughs> When have you seen her?

CADE: lolz…20 years ago?

MA: Her husband has Alzheimer’s you know.

CADE: I did not know that. Or maybe I just don’t remember. <har>

MA: And so-and-so has dementia. He still works as an attorney…but he has dementia. And so-and-so and their kids live up north now. They all play music.

CADE: That’s cool.

MA: You know that so-and-so and her family are here in Dallas now.

CADE: How in the hell would I know that? I don’t talk to anyone/no one talks to me.

MA: You don’t ever check the web?

CADE: I’ve not been on my Facebook page in years. No one cares. And that’s OK. Everyone has their own lives /shrug

MA: Oh…they do to care.

CADE: Weird. You know…I’m stupid…so…there’s that.

MA: You aren’t stupid. You are like your father…smart, have a big heart, and funny.

CADE: Um…how many sons do you have. Cause I KNOW you aren’t talking about me.

MA: I only have one son…SON…and that’s you.

CADE: Lucky you. Thanks for the compliments mom ❤

MA: Are you really leaving? What are you gonna do?

CADE: Mom…I cannot tell you what I don’t know. I also cannot tell you what I DO know over the course of a few sentences, any better or more thoroughly than I’ve already done. I’ve been planning this departure for quite some time. I have no answers for you.

MA: I don’t understand how you expect to survive.

CADE: Neither do I. BUT!!! I do expect to survive regardless of the how’s. I’ll figure it out.

MA: Can I hug you?

CADE: No.

We hugged, I told her to keep me posted on her Vernon trip, let me know before Monday.

MA: Why is she dropping you off in Gainsville?

CADE: Because I don’t want to be walking on the fucking psychopathic highways and byways of Dallas fucking Texas, and get murdered by a fucking car…again. The further I can get away from Dallas…the better.

MA: OK.

She handed me a $20 bill, which I accepted.

It was a great time.

I am thankful for it.

^depeche mode – the things you said (1987)^

So…we’ve got a big-assed membrane that somehow develops in an area proximate to where there are certain..erm…goings on…if you will.

Q: How does something…just…materialize?!?!?!?

A: Gee...I dunno. How does something just...materialize?

Anyway…yeah…when you start getting angular and less “3-dimensional” in a 7-dimensional space…suddenly…you can have energies traversing HUGE distances in some extremely short periods of time. Vast distances, at ridiculous speeds, that make absolutely no sense whatsoever within the frameworks of your theories, laws, and calculations.

Q: Seeing a trend yet?

A: ?!?!?

I’m just wondering how in the FUCK you expect me to talk specifics in a space such as the one that we are currently occupying. YEAH DUMBASS!!! THIS BLOCK OF SPACE RIGHT FUCKING HERE!!! HOW IN THE FUCK CAN I CRAM THE MECHANICS OF ALL EXISTENCE INTO THIS SPACE RIGHT…FUCKING…HERE?!?!?!?! I have no idea what your questions are. The best I can do, is forgo questions in their entirety, and tell you what I know. As a result … yeah … generalities … and a fucking FUCKTON of them.

EX: Do you like to fuck?

Me neither.

Let’s fuck and see what we can do to remedy this fucking issue with respect to not enjoying something that prolly should be enjoyable.

I’ll try and be good at it.

Hell…we may even like it.

😛

(no promises tho)

^ATTLAS – I Need You More^

Chances.

Chances…and taking them.

What are the odds?

Keep them in the 1 v 1 realms, and suddenly, the odds go out the fucking window.

50/50 = 1 v 1

Q: Which one do you want?

A: 
^ATTLAS Bloom EP: Overture^

If you want assurances and surety…I suggest you go take a piss.

Q: Did the urine land where you directed it?

A: ???

I doubt that any of it wound up on the ceiling unless you specifically and intentionally directed it there. There may have been some small bits that may have not gone EXACTLY where you wanted them to go…but wasn’t there toilet paper available to deal with these?

Which…that reminds me of something I once saw written on a bathroom wall above a urinal…

No matter how, you shake and dance…

The last two drops, are going in your pants.

Yeah…the fact that you have a bathroom/toilet to piss in, and that bathroom is located within a house that allows you the privacy to piss in privacy that is extra extra private and secure? Good for you. I hope everything comes out OK. 😉

^Lane 8 – Fingerprint^

This new wrinkle of my mother writing her memoirs and planning a trip along the some of same lines that I am about to travel…puts a fucking knot in my head.

She offered to drive me there. Asked me if I wanted to tag along on her trip. Which I wouldn’t mind doing…but I have no idea when she is planning to go. I had no idea that she quit her job as church pianist two months ago. But then again, why would I? We don’t talk much on the phone…and when we do…it’s all about assurances and plans and planning and planning for the future, and being better prepared and all kinds of shit that doesn’t always jibe with me in the way that she thinks it should. I mean…what in the FUCK am I going to do with some giant pile of money when I am 70 years old, and too busted up and fucked up to spend it in a way that was enjoyable?

That was the point in saving it…right? So you could retire, relax, and enjoy the good life? Well…what about all of that shit that you missed while preparing to enjoy life?

MA: I was a terrible mother.

CADE: Um…no you weren’t.

MA: Yes I was. I was a witch. Violent and angry.

CADE: You aren’t now.

MA: But I was then.

CADE: Then isn’t now.

MA: I know that, but that doesn’t change what I was.

CADE: Sure it does. What was, was, so that what is, can be.

I dunno. I think it’s just that simple. Or at least, it can be.

Whatever works tho.

^Sasha – Rooms^

I guess my mother is afraid that I’ll wind up sucking dicks at truck-stops and rest-stops for money.

Don't worry mom...I don't want that either.

I wouldn’t be any good at it, prolly wouldn’t make much.

Not that I've thought about that or anything.

The literature is kinda …vague… on how necessary that practice really is.

I guess it depends on how hungry you are.

Literature.

Litterature.

Hmmmmm….might make a good title for a book.

Or at least, part of a title of a good book.

Prolly already been done tho…so…meh…ain’t gonna Google it.

^Alan Walker – Faded^

cYa | cFa

^M83 – “Wait” (Official Video)^

*******

*/thinks… Didn’t Eminem have an album called Encore, Clicky…*

*Oh… that sounds like that Ali G’s song… /frowns… Fuck it, Clicky, give us something I can sing along to…*

Supposing A Smokers’ Symposium

A quick post for you tonight, Dear Reader…

*I know, I’m working on it, Clicky…*

On Monday evening, I spent a pleasant couple of hours in Blue Frank’s Smoky-Drinky, talking to chums I’d only ever written to before.

On Tuesday afternoon I was unexpectedly asked what ‘symposium’ is by a girl in the office – her boss had been invited to one and didn’t know what it entailed, so I told her… and then I decided to look it up…

symposium (n.) 1580s, “account of a gathering or party,” from Latin symposium “drinking party, symposium,” from Greek symposion “drinking party, convivial gathering of the educated” (related to sympotes “drinking companion”), from assimilated form of syn- “together” (see syn-) + posis “a drinking,” from a stem of Aeolic ponen “to drink,” from PIE root *po(i)- “to drink.”

The symposium usually followed a dinner, for the Greeks did not drink at meals. Its enjoyment was heightened by intellectual or agreeable conversation, by the introduction of music or dancers, and by other amusements. [Century Dictionary]

The sense of “a meeting on some subject” is from 1784. Reflecting the Greek fondness for mixing wine and intellectual discussion, the modern sense is especially from the word being used as a title for one of Plato’s dialogues. Greek plural is symposia, and the leader of one is a symposiarch (c. 1600 in English). Related: Symposiac (adj.); symposial

*/squints…*

I also met Red Frank’s brother yesterday afternoon. We work in the Tower on different floors, and until now our paths had not crossed, but were thrown together for a meeting. I took the minutes and then gave him a signed copy of The Underdog Anthology 2 to pass along…

*Okay! …/huffs… I get back to writing my submission for Anthology 3… /lights up… But for your info, Clicky, I did actually write some more of it today… /puffs…*

I’d better go for now, Dear Reader, I still have ironing to do, but I will leave you with my good friend, Legs’ post from last night…

*And a Song… /rolls eyes…*

 

 

 

 

Fangs For The Mammaries…

This is going to be a post that requires you to employ your own ‘Clicky’, Dear Reader… It starts with a word

wolf (n.) Old English wulf “wolf, wolfish person, devil,” from Proto-Germanic *wulfaz (source also of Old Saxon wulf, Old Norse ulfr, Old Frisian, Dutch, Old High German, German wolf, Gothic wulfs), from PIE root *wlkwo- “wolf” (source also of Sanskrit vrkas, Avestan vehrka-; Albanian ul’k; Old Church Slavonic vluku; Russian volcica; Lithuanian vilkas “wolf;” Old Persian Varkana- “Hyrcania,” district southeast of the Caspian Sea, literally “wolf-land;” probably also Greek lykos, Latin lupus).

This manne can litle skyl … to saue himself harmlesse from the perilous accidentes of this world, keping ye wulf from the doore (as they cal it). [“The Institution of a Gentleman,” 1555]

Probably extinct in England from the end of the 15th century; in Scotland from the early 18th. Wolves as a symbol of lust are ancient, such as Roman slang lupa “whore,” literally “she-wolf” (preserved in Spanish loba, Italian lupa, French louve). The equation of “wolf” and “prostitute, sexually voracious female” persisted into 12c., but by Elizabethan times wolves had become primarily symbolic of male lust. The specific use of wolf for “sexually aggressive male” first recorded 1847; wolf-whistle attested by 1945, American English, at first associated with sailors. The image of a wolf in sheep’s skin is attested from c. 1400. See here for a discussion of “wolf” in Indo-European history. The wolf-spider so called for prowling and leaping on its prey rather than waiting in a web.

…Last night I posted about a certain ‘wolf‘ on MEROVEE

Merovee Twilight Sleep

Some background: last July, the Red Granite Hollywood production company was accused by the DOJ of using $100 million that prosecutors said had been diverted from the 1MDB fund to finance DiCaprio’s 2013 film “The Wolf of Wall Street.” Last October, DiCaprio said he was cooperating with the probe and would return any gifts or donations if they were found to have come from questionable sources.

DiCapRio

…And MJ put up two posts overnight at Blade and Chalice. She’s been to visit the Scopes Trial museum in Dayton, Tennessee:

There’s a specific message for Hugo in Part 2…

House of S-tone, please read this. https://at37.wordpress.com/2012/02/06/137-69-draft/

…Of course I’ve also had sum ideas about 137….

137-maths

…So I was interested to read today that grocery stocks are crashing in the US and Europe…

Whole Foods stock was halted for ‘news pending’… and now we have the answer – Amazon to acquire Whole Foods Market for $42/share in an all-cash transaction valued at ~$13.7b, including Whole Foods Market’s net debt.

…Amazon is one of the FANGs…

A little bit of paranoia is always healthy.

In the 1980s, the totalitarian fear was that some overenthusiastic government agent would go to the library and pull your library card to see if you were reading seditious texts.

Seems a bit quaint now, doesn’t it?

It didn’t at the time.

Of course, the East German Stasi went to those lengths to spy on its citizens, but there was never any real danger of it happening in the US.

Fast forward to today.

  • Facebook knows who your friends, friends of friends, and acquaintances are. It knows what you look like, and what your friends and family look like. It knows what TV shows you watch, what music you listen to, and in all likelihood, your political activities.
  • Amazon is today’s library card—it knows every book you’ve ever ordered, along with more pedestrian purchases like vitamin supplements.
  • Netflix is a database of pretty much every TV show and movie you’ve ever watched.
  • Google has a repository of every Internet search made by every American citizen.

F, A, N, G. What does that spell?

Those four stocks have outperformed over just about any timespan.

Does anyone else find it more than a coincidence that they are also potentially the biggest threat to online privacy?

Like I said, that library card thing seems a bit quaint.

… Library card and groceries… Food for thought…

Also last night, I read Part 5 of a series at The Secret Sun, that seemingly started with a drowning in Wolf River Harbour…

I first began to follow this story when I heard about the drowning death of Jeff Buckley. I’m not sure why but the first thought that came into my head was that it had something to do with Elizabeth Fraser.
I had no idea that all of this had been prophesied for years and years before, in ways that actually give me chills.

The Secret Sun The Eyesies

That’s a lot of ‘Clicking’ and reading for you, Dear Reader, so I’ll finish up with a snapshot of Red Frank’s MEROVEE post…

Merovee Twilight Sleep The Long Way Round

… And a drawing I created to depict the process of construction logistics for my boss’s book, for the layman (‘Sun’ reader) to understand, showing how employing a logistician on a construction project ensures your mega costly building is achieved on time and budget… And the client at the top who Doo’s knot…

TIT at the top is the client going the long way round

… Alas he didn’t use it…

*Clicky! …/rolls eyes… That Song! …/huffs…*

Enough of this shambles, Dear Reader… Have another…

 

 

Missive From ‘Merica: Nuffin’ in Particular…

Um… I don’t have anything particular on my mind tonight, Dear Reader, so umm…

*Lucky dip, Clicky? …/lights up… Put three things together and see what happens? …/drags… Sounds a bit sketchy but okay…*

First up, some Library news

They are the pages where an unwilling messiah Brian, Mr Creosote, the Ministry of Silly Walks, a football team of philosophers and a dead parrot were all born. Now, more than 50 notebooks of original sketches and ideas for Monty Python have been donated to the British Library by Michael Palin.

The public will now be able to freely peruse Palin’s archive of writings from 1965 to 1987, including the books where he and Jones would write the early sketches for Monty Python’s Flying Circus.

*That’s right, he’s also an epic traveler, Clicky…*

Secondly some exciting Smokie Drinkie News, Dear Reader…

*Virtually… /knocks of ash and relights…*

And for number three… */thinks…* Ah! This made me chuckle… An explanation of a shambles for the British viewing public…

And now a new missive from The Okie Devil for you, Dear Reader… Enjoy! ❤

*******



MOVIE REVIEW TIME MOTHERFUCKERS!!!

 

^The Chemical Brothers – Leave Home ( Koyaanisqatsi (1983) )^

It’s late Sunday night, and I’ve been busy with not much all day. However, I was able to somehow squeeze in a movie, and now I will suggest you check it out. It’s called Birdman, it’s a superhero flick, and I’ve avoided it for some time.

Q: Who has two thumbs and recommends you see this flick?

A: The guy who is typing this and occasionally hitting the space bar with his thumbs.

There have been several movies that specifically address the concept of what a superhero is. Mystery Men is a good example, but so is Daredevil and Watchmen. That said, this one not only sticks to the topic more along the lines of Mystery Men and Kick-Ass, it crosses the line a bit more. It kinda rubs your nose in both concepts of fantasy and reality as it pertains to “the hero.” That’s what I got out of it anyway. I’m sure I’ll get more and more out of it the more I watch it. Assuming that I ever watch it again. But I would given the chance.

It’s very clever and tells a great story about Hollywood and Broadway actors.

Ya know? People.

Yeah…this movie is full of people.

Towering people.

People teetering on being toppled.
^Apollo 440 – Can’t Stop The Rock^

That’s all you’re getting from me. I mean…she said all that shit above, and not me. So if the movie is now spoiled,…erm…too fucking bad…blame her, or stop looking at the pic or something.

I had heard that this movie was weird.

This is movie is far from weird…it’s good ol’ fashioned completely fucked up.

Plus…”the bad guy” or “villain” in this one is quite cleverly disguised/costumed, and is one of the more interesting villains in recent memory.

You’d never even know they were there.

Meh...you'll figure it out.
^The Crystal Method – Blowout^
tumblr_n0ragcs5rz1rdfgw4o1_500

BOOK REVIEW TIME MOTHERFUCKERS!!!

So…dripping in guilt…um…yeah…I got to read a book I didn’t pay for.

The only way I can quasi-make up for it…is actually read the fucking thing.

The only way I can quasi-make up for that…is to spend some time thinking on it.

The only way I can quasi-make up for that…is to spend some time writing about it.

The only way I can quasi-make up for that…is….erm…I dunno.

I’ll leave it to you to devise something devious and clever as punishment for the thrashing I’m about to give it.

This will not be my intent…but I always look on the bright side.

Weird that we can only see it through the dark.

Weird.
^Smash Mouth – Walkin’ On The Sun^

The Mark. I don’t like this book. I mean…I love it. But yeah…I don’t like it. I dances all around some really pertinent and noteworthy topics, a shitload of topics actually…and it does this very cleverly. Great story.

The author tells a very long, slow-moving story very quickly. I guess I could just say that it reads well, but I didn’t. Until now…but yeah…well written and easy on the English/UK slang. Almost like another story I noticed by this publisher where it appeared to me when an American author was attempting to use UK slang, this story appears to me as a UK author trying not to use UK slang. Weird. I prolly wrong on all counts, but no one cares…so…meh. I guess the way that the backstory is woven into the now really kinda keeps it flowing. Not saying that I had the urge to skip pages and read ahead because I didn’t have those urges…but I wanted to. Weird, eh?

I guess some of the “ingrained English culture” that sometimes makes those in the UK appear so fucking weird to the outside world, is starting to make a little more sense.

 ^Moloko – Sing It Back^
These pertinent and noteworthy topics I mentioned, are always pertinent and noteworthy. I guess the measure of their noteworthy depends on the time and times in which they are perceived to occur. Lots of people still freaked the fuck out by The Internet. But that’s not really a stretch is it?
There are those who like theatre/stage, there are those that like opera, there are those that like theatre/movies, there are those who like church, there are those that like books, there are those that like nightclubs, there are those that prefer to stay home and watch television, there are those that like to sit outside and just…watch. I prolly missed some options or twenty in there, but you get the gist. Especially when you flip most of those into participant and observer roles, and then add time and times as to when and where. Meh.
 ^Pendulum – Showdown (Official Video)^

I can understand my need to “educate myself”…the battle-cry within most media today.

However, there are stopgaps there.

1st, now I gotta “prove it”…be tested…as to how much I have learned.

Q: What if I failed your test?

A: ?¿?

Q: Did I fail you? Or did you fail me? When?

A: ¿?¿

I guess I’m just dumb. Doesn’t say much about you and your teaching tho does it? Even if I earn your stupid-assed certificate of authenticity of approval, that winning was based on the possibility of failure. Doesn’t bode well for my survival over the long run…does it?

BTW…are you course credits and/or certifications transferable?

I get the feeling I may need that option.

 ^Sonique It Feels so Good^

So yeah…The Internet…nothing but voyeurs and fetishists. Oh, and predators. And smurfs. Oh…and catfish. And trolls. And some other stuff. Paranoidistics should prolly become it’s own discipline. But that’s almost kinda…self incriminating…isn’t it? Lolz

FUCK!!! My hands are bleeding…brb.

 ^Gypsy Woman (She’s Homeless) – Crystal Waters – HQ^

Gotta account for the voice that The Internet gives to many that would otherwise not have it. But before you get all uppity as to a few things regarding “marks” and “beasts”…yer gonna need to do some self-flagellation real quick….K?

(virtually...VIRTUALLY...you fucking sickos)

There are many that discount “the power” of the individual voice that gets drowned out amongst the noise within the throng…or…throbbing-clusterfuck…as I like to call it. And many times, they are correct. However, how in the fuck are you going to use this same system to label each and every person, when there are those that are omitted by this system’s existence in and of itself? Channels? Better channels? Better channeling? Good fucking luck with that one. Especially seeing as how this entire system is build upon a system that will fall like tumblers under the right conditions. Yeah…power. As in, electrical.

Suddenly…the concept of infinite and unlimited power doesn’t sound so good, eh?

Almost like…there’s a built in safety there.

Keep in mind who provides the power, and it’ll never be a shock when there is too little or too much of it.

Just sayin'.
 ^iiO – Rapture (Official Video)^
 

Clouds have moved in after a coupla days of sunshine.

Q: Do I seem glum?

A: I feel glum.

Prolly just my overwhelming urge to both A) continue reading The Mark, and B) not continue reading The Mark.

YEAH ASSHOLES!!! I HAVEN'T FINISHED IT!!! GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT?!?!?!?

How can I write a book review on a book that I’ve not even finished reading?

Well duh. You fucks judge unread and/or unfinished books all the time. It’s just that these books are lives. Lives that are in progress, therefore, cannot be told in their totality as they are still being written. That is of course, unless you take matters into your own hands.

Creepy thoughts...eh?

Hey…if you fucks can trash a book based on the cover, or the title, or the forward, or who wrote the forward, or the fact that there is no dedication, or just read the first few pages and stop and THEN trash the fuck out of it…I should be able to write a positive review at the halfway point.

Halway-ish.

Like 126 of 200 or something.

 ^Blade Runner Theme • Vangelis^

I’ve been interrupted by The BBC several times over the last week over their series Oceans. Whatshername picked it up at the library last week for reasons unknown, and I’ve been watching it. I even managed to clean up disk 2 to where it plays in its totality. Story for another blog I guess. 😉

Anyway…it’s a great series…very ambitious. Big, beautiful, and let’s us lubbers see some things that we never would have been able to see otherwise. Lotta messages in this film. One of which, is sharks. Sharks are starting to become the new dolphin…I guess because tuna are almost gone, so we don’t have to worry about dolphin getting caught in the tuna nets anymore. Dolphins prolly still need to be wary of certain coves, but I digress since I have no answers. But anyway…a message that is espoused over and over in this film…is health. Health of the oceans. Health of the food chain. Health of the apex predators.

Blah blah blah.

The ironic bit, is that all of this “health” is based upon sickness and disease. More succinctly, the sick and the diseased. Lotta references to “weeding out” with respect to the sick and diseased. Not much “respect” there in my not-so-humble opinion…but whatever or something.

Anyway…this food chain business is gonna be your own worst enemy, mainly because of its static representation of a dynamic system. I mean, all you gotta do is turn that food chain diagram 180° to see the apex. Yeah…the other one. This is why I operate in a 4/7/5/8 dimensional world. You never forget life, nor time, nor the structures that support them both. Because it works both ways, in all cases, no exceptions, forever and always. Or at least, it works that way currently. 😉

 ^Blade Runner • Tears in Rain • Vangelis^

The saving grace in ecological conservation, or conservation of any kind…it that there is no saving grace.

Ironic...eh?

So…we look for gems. Gems like “we just don’t know.” That’s a something that was espoused by Philippe Cousteau, and the honesty in it damn near brings someone like me to tears of joy. Working your ass off, as it is happening, knowing that you are blundering around in a shitstorm, trying to make sense of it all, and doing the best you can with what you have.

/shrug
 ^Apocalypse Now Theme • Ride of the Valkyries • Richard Wagner^

Now that the cofveve buzz has worn off, let’s talk about something else. I mean, I can’t help but think about Rob Stewart and his efforts to bring “the shark issue” to our attention. But then again, I have an interest in the ocean. Many people, don’t.

So let’s talk…strata….in wata.

DOH!

Yep…wata strata.

Wata has a lotta strata.

And when you think about it…should oughtn’t it have outta have strata?

Pro-Tip: "Outta" and it's usage, contextually.

Outta: Awe-Tuh…contraction substitution for “ought to”

We outta get the fuck outta here.

Outta: Ow-Tuh…contraction substitution for “out of”

We’re outta here.

 ^Fluke – Atomic Bomb (Atomix 3)^

Lot’s of long cogs turn slowly in the wheel over very long periods of time to get what they want, eh?

I wonder if they still want it?

I wonder if they are willing to wait to get it?

Sorry…just…important questions.

Or at least…I think they are important questions anyway.

 ^Hans Zimmer – Time (Inception)^

Not that we are on the path to identifying healthy via unhealthy…lets go ahead and burst the bubble so we can stop riding it. Now that we are healthy…we gotta quest to be uber-healthy. Which means that the healthy, who cannot attain the status of uber-healthy, are now right back to being the sick. The unhealthy. But…let’s also entertain the notion that a certain healthy someone CAN attain the status of uber-healthy…unfortunately…they had a slip or a fall at the gym.

BLOOPS!

The injured have cropped back up as well. Now you are mired in sick AND injured peeps once again.

WTF?!?!???!?!?!????1111 WE JUST CLEANED THIS SHIT UP!!!!!!
 ^Hank Williams Jr & Hank Williams Sr- There’s A Tear In My Beer (Excellent Quality)+(Lyrics)^

I’m rambling. Must have rambling on my mind or something.

I guess monologuing has that effect or something.
^Allman Brothers Band – Ramblin’ Man^

So anyway…yeah…um….um…um…yeah…strata in the wata or something.

I guess that I find it ironic that we dig through dirt and rock, see these layers containing untold numbers of fauna and flora, and yet we always chalk it up to rising and lowering sea levels, Moving of tectonic plates. Subduction. Migration. And…we’re right to it. These walks are not that long because of the fortunate place in which I find myself. I recognize the shoulders that I am standing on.

If we journey from terra to ice…maybe that will make the water strata a little easier. Because I’ve already suggested that there are regional forces that determine the size, shape and makeup of water, and these forces are dependent upon other regional forces, globally. Why would they not be? You’ve got two infinity zooms on that microscope or camera, but only acknowledge one. Prolly because you built the fucking thing. Infinities are scalar. Add relativity in there, and maybe your head won’t pop at that thought.

 ^YBR – Led Zeppelin – Ramble On^

 HOLY FUCK!!! A question via the Whatever However Hotline!!!

Q: Cade, what facilitates these auxiliary channels and pathways that you are suggesting?

A: I don't fucking know what facilitates them you goddamned idiot. What the fuck kind of question is that?

If you think the past is something to leave behind, then leave the fucking thing behind. However…I’d advise that, if you are a proponent of string theory, you might wanna think about that premise. Stretchy strings snap back eventually. Better hope it isn’t loaded with stings on those strings.

(just saying)

I think the question that really wants to be asked/answered, is how do these pathways open…not, how they exist. And my thinking would lead me to believe that leaving the life element out of your equations is prolly a mistake. There is a perpetuity to life that cannot be denied. Existence of an immortal soul, or gods, or monsters, or ghosts or whatever…does not diminish this. It may augment the fuck out of it, but it certainly does not diminish it. I wonder if detraction diminishes.

Meh…fuck it…let’s say none of the above.

(heh...get it...heh heh)

Erm…anyway…uh…yeah…will. There are all kinds of them. Needs and wants are will. I wonder if they are willing?

Hmmmm....
 ^Spooky – Little Bullet (Extended Version)^

You smokers are gonna have to get used to the fact that your cigarettes DO affect non-smokers. You can stack scientific data to the fucking moon that says otherwise. So…you gotta question what you value more…the stack of papers, or people?

If I’m around cigarettes all the time, I’ll sorta get used to it. But that doesn’t stop those acute attacks of itchy eyes, itchy skin, sneezing and wheezing. Gotta keep in mind that not all smokers smoke the same brand. Add cloves, and cigars, and pipes, and pot and God knows what else to that mix, and yeah…there are gonna be exceptions to your rules. You wanna be one, right? An exception? Welp…I wanna help. And not by ignoring your plight nor hoping you get cancer or some other ailment <shudder> Just…know…that when I ask if you wouldn’t mind not sparking up just yet? Coming from me personally anyway…I’m trying to be courteous to you and me both. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t need it. But usually I don’t care. Spark up and smoke em if you got em. 🙂

^Showtek – We Like To Party (Original Mix)^

Yeah…I was raised in a smoking home. But not really. My mother is VEHEMENTLY opposed to smoking. Yeah…I on rare occasions smoke, and I currently chew tobacco. But…so fucking what? That’s my choice right? Isn’t the freedom to choose isn’t on someone’s list somewhere?

I know it is.

X: Maybe.

Cade: Thanks.

X: …

 ^Showtek – The F Track^

This roasted coffee beans/carcinogens mess is really swirling in my head. Nevermind the caffeine and nicotine bullshit, and really…fuck the cancer bullshit too. Because I keep getting pushed to the political and governmental sides of this bullshit…which means business and businesses. Speaking as someone who is allergic to just about anything and everything, I wonder what my crime is. Because…is that what we are coming to? Inventing crime because we’ve gotten bored with the “run-of-the-mill” kinds of stuff?

I relish those things that I can participate in which do not give me grief for doing so. Hell, I relish many of the things that DO give me grief for partaking of. Petting dogs and cats. Eating beans of ANY kind. (Yes, I am allergic to almost all beans including cofveve). Almost all spicy foods give me reflux. I’m allergic to all of the ingredients in beer. Interesting footnote tho…drinking beer regularly helps with my pet allergies. I guess because it keeps my histamine levels high due to the allergens in the beer, which helps better my pet allergies. Prolly some saliva/salivary and endocrine links there too, not to mention plain ol’ feeling good and not feeling sick/sickly.

 ^’Feline Good’ – Aristocats jazz/dance/funk/breakbeat remix^

Q: Do you know how to talk to people?

A: ???

Q: Do you know how to talk to a person?

A: ¿¿¿
 ^Foetus – The Only Good Christian Is A Dead Christian^

X: Do you remember what we talked about earlier in the week?

Cade: No.

0: Are you lying?

Cade: Um….no.

Z: Are you sure?

Cade: Not anymore.

Z: Why not?

Cade: No idea. Prolly a personality issue.

Z: lolz…WHAT?!?!?!?

Cade: I’m fractured.

X: Since when?

Cade: Pick one.

A: Wait…what?

Cade: Huh?

A: That wasn’t a multiple choice question.

Cade: Well…if I fractured at some point, wouldn’t that trend continue?

X: Ooohhh…a clever one we’ve got here.

Z: …

Cade: lolz…um…Z thinks otherwise.

0: They aren’t alone in that thought.

Cade: Wait…I get the temporary natures of healing.

X: Why is nature plural there.

Cade: Because of the healing processes post-healing process?

X: Well said.

T: Seconded.

0: Meh…

Cade: lolz…nice.

0: You’re welcome.

X: How many of you scars have been covered.

Cade: Um…I’m gonna take that one at face value, and say many.

X: How?

Cade: I can’t answer that. I only know that they have.

Z: Time heals all wounds.

Cade: Yeah…but what does that mean?

B: Everybody is different.

Cade: Yep.

B: Are you a fast healer?

Cade: Sometimes. But I’m also a free bleeder.

X: Bleed a lot do you?

Cade: Yep. Then it just kinda…

0: Stops.

Cade: I just know that all three surgeries I have had, all of the surgeons commented as to how badly I bled.

X: You think there is a link to scars and scarring there?

Cade: Within the capillary system? You fucking bet I do. There’s something about that interface section of the body that we like to omit and/or ignore.

Z: Think that is related to pride?

Cade: Maybe some. But not in the manner in which “The Spiritualists” like to define it.

X: Which is what?

Cade: Um…who doesn’t want to look good. And not just to the outside world.

X: Feels pretty good to feel good, eh?

Cade: I like it /shrug

A: I gave you that ability.

Cade: The ability to shrug? Fair enough. I’m still pondering the magical nature of many of these reflexes that we tend to chalk up as social faux pas or glitches.

C: They aren’t glitches?

W: And don’t get smart here.

Cade: lolz…And who the FUCK might you be?

W: …

Cade: I know that…but the reader doesn’t.

X: Answer the question.

Cade: I shudder to think about losing my gag reflex completely.

X: Why is that?

0: Yes…why is that?

Cade: One particular batch of homemade red beans, at the wrong time…

X: Fatal.

Cade: I can only chalk it up to not being able to piss.

0: Kinda…timely and pertinent when your bladder is on the verge of exploding, but the pipes ain’t working…is that it?

Cade: Something like that. But then again…my throat is kinda…void.

X: I wouldn’t say that.

Cade: lolz…welp…you’d be right…but the doctors would disagree.

Z: What was it that one doctor said?

Cade: Unusual musculature of the mouth and throat.

X: And what did that make you think of?

Cade: The movie Blade.

X: I knew it…a blood sucking vampire.

Cade: lolz…busted. Wait…garlic and mirrors or crosses or holy water couldn’t have saved you some time there?

X: They aren’t always conclusive.

Cade: Fucking ROFL!!!

X: 😉

0: Catch yourself there tiger. Let the laughing fit the reader isn’t seeing pass…then get going again.

Cade: K. THX.

0: np

Cade: So…if I have this correctly…

Z: Fat chance…but go ahead…

Cade:  Yeah..um…because I have weird musculature in my mouth and throat…

X: Yeah…that premise kinda died on the vine. Time to move on.

Cade: k…that was pretty fucking funny tho.

Z: We aim to please.

Cade: 🙂

X: …

 ^Green Velvet – Bigger Than Prince (Hot Since 82 Remix)^

X: Water.

Cade: Noted.

We dig through all kinds of layer after layer of various minerals and elements of all kinds, and yet relegate the oceans and bodies of water to layers of whale shit, fish piss, nutrients moving to feed a algae bloom via currents, but it’s still water…and just and only water. Not to mention the relegation of ice and snow at the polar caps to reflectors, and not thinking about them more in terms of capacitors and facilitators of heat transference and other energies.

Yeah…heat…not cold. Cold drives heat, and heat drives cold. I think there’s something there to crystals and salt and stuff…but whatever. No wonder your models of ice ages are so fucked up. Ever considered a pole that is still circular, but more banded? Take a gander at Saturn or Jupiter, and maybe that’ll help.

Fuck it…if you’re gonna look for life everywhere else in our solar system and elsewhere, all while ignoring the life that is here on Earth/Terra, how are you looking at that shit? Using the same systems specifically designed by people to take care of people? Fuck that noise. No fucking wonder there is a rush to commercialize space travel and shitcan research funded by government. Yeah…it sucks to get cut off at the knees. But let’s not travel this road again…k?

What am I saying…of course we are gonna travel it.

Unless we don't.
 ^Scraping Foetus Off the Wheel – I’ll Meet You in Poland Baby^

Cade: I dunno…I don’t see what the big fucking deal is about thinking that water is more globular than we give it credit for.

X: Continue…

Cade: Shut the fuck up.

X: OK then.

Cade: Clustering and clabbering, and not just wads of fish piss and fish shit.

X: But that too?

Cade: Watching Tooni Mahto look for otoliths in sea lion shit reveals much more than simply certain sea lions are fishing at deeper depths.

X: Which is…

Cade: What gets used and where, and what does not get used and where.

X: Lotta time to think about there.

Cade: Especially on the molecular levels as they pertain to the macro.

0: Wait…what?!?!?! What the fuck does that mean?

Cade: I dunno. Connections I guess.

0: Wait wait wait wait a minute there…are you suggesting that certain piles of sea lion scat may someday solidify and petrify…simply as a marker?

Cade: Sure…why not. Hells bells…the law of averages is prolly gonna be able to confirm that.

Z: But…what about subduction?

Cade: Where it happens? Or where it doesn’t happen?

Z: Nice. Well played.

Cade: …

Z: More ancient than you even want to think about…eh?

Cade: Something like that.

A: …

Cade: My thinking exactly.

X: Well…not exactly…but we’ll let it slide this time.

Cade: Dismissal of a system that is used to arrive at a location seems kinda…um…I don’t know.

X: Dismissive?

T: I think I know what he’s thinking here.

Cade: Thanks.

T: 🙂

Z: …

 ^Thatcher On Acid -Outwardly We’re Lying Inwardly Were Crying^

cYa | cFa

 ^Foetus – Slung^

*******

*What do you know, Clicky, I too have seen Birdman and read The Mark… /lights umpteenth fag… All of it 😉 *

*Song time? Okay, hit it…*

 

 

Missive From ‘Merica: Let the Pain Take The Strain

It has been something of a painful week for me, Dear Reader…

giphy5

I either slept funny, or in a draught ‘cos when I woke last Sunday, both my neck and right shoulder were in blooming pain. Then I mowed the grass…

tenor

*I know, Clicky… The garden was a bit overgrown…*

I can’t tell you how bad it felt when I woke on Monday…

giphy6

*Hmm… right facial expression, Clicky, but I wasn’t moving anything like that fast…*

…and I certainly wasn’t fit for work…

tumblr_mc55b7qmbh1qm8776o1_500

Fortunately I was able to take the week off as holiday…

Andy

*Very ‘andy, Clicky… I’m new there – I don’t wanna be labelled a sicknote… /pulls face… It was my own fault for aggravating it… /thinks… And I got to do nothing which is pretty much what I use holiday for anyway…*

By Thursday, strong painkillers and rest (Thoughtful Man has been an absolute rock) had done the trick and I was at least able to get dressed to go vote. Plus never underestimate the healing benefits of receiving ‘good karma’ or a surprise gift in the post…

Cade had written the following missive but held back sending it until today. It’s…

giphy7

*Clicky?!?…*

anigif_enhanced-buzz-27260-1373583573-4

*Okay but it’s probably too late for that… Go sort out a Song for the end and we’ll just let Dear Reader find out what’s in Cade’s missive for themself…*

*******

Sup y0?

Tis’ Saturday June 10th. I wrote most of this bullshit below earlier in the week. Not that you care, because no one is reading this. So yeah…let’s get the fuck on with it, eh? Skip the sex, and straight to the foreplay.

OH! And if there are some words missing, my keyboard is dying/low batteries. I noticed in one of my reposts this week that a lot of words were missing. I type pretty fast, so when the keyboard cuts out because of these low batteries, I don’t always notice.

Here go.
I mean…We go.

I mean…Here we.

I mean…Here we go.

^No Remorse – Metallica – Kill ’em All – Studio Version – HD^

I just wrote a new song. It’s called…”I Just Wrote A New Song.”

It goes a little something like this…

I just wrote a new song…

It’s about 4 hours long.

Just kidding. I mean…not really, because I did write that. Just need a few hours to work on it.

😛
^Depeche Mode – Blasphemous Rumours [Flashghost]^


The Amazing...

“Do Nothing Machine.”

Sounds … relevant … to someone … I know.

It's amazing what a little nothing can do.
^The amazing Do Nothing Machine at the Museum of Craftsmanship^

I didn’t plan on writing the previous whatever. I figured the one before that would be my last. So maybe you can empathize with what is transpiring right here and now.

Not that there is some cumulative confusion with continuing to write, when I thought that I had just about wrapped up these efforts. Because here I am…

writing more shit 

…simply because I have been inspired by events to do so.

^Cocteau Twins – Melonella^

I blanked an entire post on my own blog last night by foolishly editing what I had already published. Hit the “undo” button one too many times I guess…

at which point

…I guess the automated portion of Blogger said something akin to

“WATCH THIS!!!”

as my entire post vanished from the edit window…

at which point

…I can only imagine that the auto-save portion chimed in with…

“TA-DA!!!”

By the time it occurred to me that maybe hitting the “redo” button might be a valid and prudent course, I had already clicked the “preview” button … and was now staring a completely blank page.

I swear to God…the page was so devoid of anything, that the thought of tumbleweeds and whistling winds somehow suddenly manifesting on-screen would have been a welcome addition.

I kept eyeballing the publishing toolbar, and wondering why there was no cancel function.

I mean…this is a published article.

Auto-save….it’s a pickle.

I won’t say a sour pickle, because I personally love sour pickles.

It’s the sweet ones that I hate.

My gut tightened…I shrugged…scowled…whispered “oh well”…and went to bed.

I slept quite a bit and quite well.

Even took a nap this afternoon and slept quite well too.

The more and better I sleep…the more tired I get.

/me is weird like that
^Metallica: Creeping Death & Blackened (MetOnTour – Oakland, CA – 2016)^

Quite the storm overhead right now. Blue and white on one side, dark grey and black on the other…lightly raining in the middle. The smell of rain…loaded with that sweet smell of fresh dirt.

I was coming indoors for a moment to grab my binoculars since I had seen something floating in the sky to the southeast that did not appear to be either aircraft nor drone…prolly a balloon…but I wanna see it/watch it since it is riding the leading edge of the storm. As I entered the hallway that leads to “my” room, I notice whatshername is hoovering in my oldest son’s doorway…and as soon as she sees me, her conversation with my son ceases, and she looks at me.

The silence is almost deafening, but I avert my eyes to the floor, continue my journey as I now change plan and decide whatever it is can just float the fuck on without worry of me attempting to observe it further. I am just about to pass her when she says…

Did you notice that branch that came down after the last storm?

I think to myself…yes I did see it because you pointed it out to me…wait…what? Why is she asking about a branch that has been on the ground for a coupla days? Tree-limb pickup isn’t until Thursday, this is Sunday, and we have another storm right on top of us.

Cade: Ummm…I thought I did. (I musta had quite a puzzled look on my face)

This is a different one.

She walks away from my son’s door, he hasn’t said a word during this entire time…

Will you take a look at it…it hasn’t come all the way down.

As she proceeds towards the front door, I turn to follow her, and catch the shadow of a foot out of the corner of my eye and see his door start to close, followed by what is not quite a slam.

I follow her outside, my mind filling with confusion as to where in the hell she is headed since there are no sizeable trees out front that would necessitate concern over their branches. When she makes a left towards the east, my heart sinks as I simultaneously raise my head and see the branch of current pertinent and timely interest.

That one. Do you think it will hit my car?

The branch she is referencing is still well attached to a tree that is deep in the neighbor’s yard, even tho the branch itself is quite close to whatshername’s driveway. A quick scan reveals that the neighbor’s cars are gone, and I swallow hard.

Cade: Maybe. Just move your car out into the street?

I was thinking that, considering the circumstances, this would be the best course until the storm passes.

Cade: Maybe just park it out in the street until you can talk to “neighbor’s name withheld” as to what to do about it?

Whatshername continues to survey the distances and angles of potential motion if and when the branch were to become dislodged during the coming tempest. But I can tell from where I am standing, that the branch appears to still be quite well attached since it has not fallen. This branch is going to require a saw, if for no other reason than to keep from damaging the tree further. She then turns to me…

Couldn’t you just give it a good yank?

Cade: You do whatever you want. But I’m not going on to someone else’s property while they aren’t home to try and pull a tree limb out of one of their trees.

With that, I immediately turn and retreat inside as I stumble around what I consider the best course, and in desperation look for any potentials that I may have missed. As I open the door, I notice whatshername is hot on my heels…

Well…I’m going to pick up your daughter from work.

I cringe.
^Depeche Mode – World In My Eyes (Cicada Mix)^

I admire her moxy. What I detest is her defiance, when and where that defiance seems to manifest itself. Prolly because I am very similar at times, I just approach such situations a little differently.

Oh! You want me to do this this way, otherwise…you are gonna kick my ass?

Try this one on for size then.

I ain’t gonna do it at all…my way, not your way…nor any other way, and we’ll consider that “my way”…k?

Bring on this asskicking you didn’t plan for motherfucker.

I can take it.

Can you?
^Deadmau5 – gg^

 

Ever won a fight by not even throwing a punch?

I have.

Many actually.

A guy had been picking on me and tempting and taunting me forever, and no matter how many times I warned him, pleaded with him, whatever…that this course was not in his best interests…he kept it up. Accusing me of trying to talk shit without “backing it up” by actually fighting. I run tho too. I kept ducking him forever. He almost got me once at school when he enlisted some friends to assist him with trapping me in a certain area of the school and then dragging me outside.

They hadn’t considered that I work best under the pressure of the moment. I did escape and evade them, and I damn near escaped them permanently until I made a wrong turn…at which point, a classmate of mine intervened. Lucky me. But not long after…they cornered me again…outdoors where I had nowhere to run.

Mainly because I never saw the first punch. The first punch came after a blindside push that knocked me to the ground.

Upon hitting the ground, getting up was not an option because he was immediately on top of me punching me. I curled up in a ball and took it. I dunno how many times he punched me, but he worked back and forth between the body and attempts at punching my obscured face with no luck.

Cade: Don’t punch my head.

There was warning tone in my voice.

A crowd had formed around us, and there was a roar of laughter that was kinda..split. One of his friends shouted in a whining-child taunting tone…

Don’t…punch my poor little head!

I immediately fired back…

Cade: You’re next.

There was a roar of “OOOOOHHHH’s” and laughter that ripped through the crowd, that I could only imagine was quite large, and getting larger.

Doesn’t look like there will be anything left.

Cade: I’m warning you…don’t punch my head!

The guy that was pounding on me resumed his punching attack that had been interrupted by my perceived smartassery, and he continued his assault working back and forth between the body and head, with an occasional attempt at the face as I rocked my head back and forth trying to avoid these.

^Roberto Capuano – Drop (Original Mix) [ANALYTICTRAIL]^

He started in on my kidneys, I guess since they were so readily available, and after quite a few of these punches…I thought to myself “I wonder how many of these I can take, and how much blood am I gonna piss tonight?” Still, attacking the kidneys is a good sign he’s becoming tired.

He even stood up a time or two, keeping me between his legs, and kicked me. I guess out of frustration at a perceived lack of progress, but I was already well aware that my body was gonna be covered in bruises tomorrow and for quite some time after.

Then…I heard the first snap.

I don’t recall which hand it was, but he had taken a shot at the direct center of the back of my head near the neck, and as I felt the tingles of the response of the nerves in my neck transmit their confusing messages down the length of my back…I heard a snap that didn’t belong to me.

I could feel his body relax somewhat, and I could tell that he had withdrawn this hand that recoiled in pain.

Cade: I FUCKING TOLD YOU MOTHERFUCKER!!!

There must have been confusion in the crowd as to what I meant by that. But he immediately began to hit me with the other hand, then I felt his bodyweight shift again. This dumb motherfucker is gonna hit me with the hand he just broke to check and see if it is really broken…which he did. The wrist folded under the force of the blow, almost like he was poking the side of my face with the nub of an arm where the hand had been detached.

^Colonel Abrams & Boards of Canada – Trapped (Hell Interface edit)^

He never could get to that fury stage, and there were only a few more punches with opposing hand before…again…

*SNAP!*

Even I groaned on this one, and he almost immediately removed himself from where is was perched atop my back. Yikes…that one musta hurt. I stood up in a flash, seemingly unaffected by the beating that had ensued up to that point….and there was a “WOOOOOOOO!!!!” that ran through the crowd. Almost as if everyone was thinking…

OH SHIT!!! THE TABLES HAVE TURNED!!!

Cade: I FUCKING WARNED YOU MOTHERFUCKER!!! I FUCKING WARNED YOU!!! THERE IS NOT A BEATING THAT ANYONE CAN DISH OUT THAT I CANNOT TAKE!!!

I knew that he was in agony, and it had not yet become apparent to those watching that he had broken both of his hands (actually, one hand and one wrist). But there was a hush among the throng as to exactly what they had just witnessed, and what was transpiring now. They had just wanted blood, and now, they had no fucking clue what in the fuck was going on nor what they wanted, nor what to do.

He had begun to whimper a bit, and I could tell that he was fighting back the tears brought on by what must have been some terrible pain, as well as the confusion of what he should do at this point. I shot him a glare and noticed the confusion in his eyes, shot the crowd a glare and noticed the confusion in theirs…I left and went home. I cried all the way there. Inside. Not outwardly. My fury is too well versed and too well honed to show itself outwardly in a way that most could understand.

Regret took over, and the tears began to flow.

^Deadmau5 – Templar^

Not a mark on me. That’s what they would think. And they’d be right, because they were only looking at my face. But I knew better.

Sure enough, the next morning I was covered in bruises and scratches and cuts on my body. Not really…but I bruise slowly if at all. But where there were no marks, there was only pain and a wondering of what in the fuck transpired there to make it hurt so bad, yet there is no evidence of any damage except the pain. I didn’t want to go back to school…ever. I had no idea what waited for me. I could not have fathomed what actually waited for me at school.

^Metallica Escape lyrics^

Looks and a lot of them. Clearing a path, for me? Looking at me with what I can only imagine was an equally confused look that I returned.

For the first time, I walked these crowded hallways in a high school of 5,000+ kids, unimpeded.

What the FUCK?!?!?

I usually had to skirt the walls and wait for those small gaps created by the normal kids as they proceed unimpeded down the center of the hallway. These gaps usually are dependent on how many friends are in tow within a certain group, and vary at different times of the day depending on classes attended and overall level of popularity. But this was very strange to me. Not a word was said to me directly…but obviously the scuttlebutt had already so permeated some structure of communication that I was completely oblivious to.

“He won that fight yesterday by not even throwing a punch”…I heard from behind me. They continued…“you should have been there…he stood up and started yelling…” the conversation went out of earshot as I quickened my pace to my first class.

This is not happening…

this is not happening…

THIS IS NOT HAPPENING!!!

I made my way into my first class, which was luckily sparsely populated because I was early. I put my books down, put my head on top of them and covered my face. Terror. Sheer terror. As the students filed in, I kept my face down. I kept my face down long after the bell had rung and class started.

Just...don't cry...just don't cry.

Teacher: Cade, I’m gonna need you to raise your head up and pay attention to class.

I eventually raised my head in obedience, and you coulda heard a pin drop in that room. The teacher gave me the most reassuring tight-lipped non-smile I have ever been privy to. She then proceeded with her responsibilities. I hope that I paid attention. But I have a sneaking suspicion that my mind was elsewhere.

^Deadmau5 – Bounce (Original Mix)^

I can only imagine the confusion as to how this wimpy stoner kid who didn’t weigh 140 pounds soaking wet, could have possibly endured a beating by a well known football player who was twice his size…let alone won…let alone win without throwing a single punch. Nevermind that there is not a mark on him. It took a while for some bruises to come in. I didn’t want to talk about it.

Sometime later, I was approached in the school hallway by a guy who was known for being the toughest guy in the entire school. He also just so happened to be a good friend of the guy who wailed on me, and was there that day watching the events. It scared me, because he and yet another of their friends had constantly picked on me the entire time I had been in high school, and I figured that these activities were about to resume. But he simply said to me…

You know…anyone can take a beating. But it takes a real man to dish one out.

He turned and started to walk away, as if he just wanted to say his piece then bail. But I fired back…

Cade: Does it matter how?

He stopped in his tracks…turned towards me, and said…

Yeah…it does.

He turned and walked away.

This next song sucks btw.
^MECHANICAL TECHNO DEMONSTRATION^

Not to change the subject…but I think I figured out a food issue.

Flour Tortillas.

Cheap, filling, easy to carry, and I like them.

AND…they can double as toilet paper in a tight spot.

Cleaning up with the same item you ate the day before. Lolz

Which reminds me…just gotta remember to use them in one capacity or the other, and not both.

Noted.
^Lonely – Drum Beat (Original Mix)^

Boilie

Just a mental note I’ve made myself here.

Carry on citizens.
^ABR : Depeche Mode – Dangerous Dub Cut Mix (Ahmed Benny Remix 2017)^

Sometime later, a certain someone approached me and asked me…

How did you do that?

Cade: For my entire life, I’ve survived being beaten on repeatedly by a man who spends the entirety of his days pounding and molding steel and metals to his will. I told you…there’s not a beating I cannot withstand. So….I can easily withstand any beating that someone has lined up for me over their own pride and popularity because they figure I’m easy prey.

And yep…as I feared…those events pretty much ended this guy’s football career. He left the school after not making the football team, because they offered him a role as a trainer since he didn’t make the team. I guess he felt that was insult on top of injury, and changed schools.

^deadmau5 – Phantoms Can’t Hang^

I’m sure there are those who would say

“AWWW BULLSHIT!!! THAT DIDN’T GO DOWN LIKE THAT AT ALL!!!

And they’d be right.

I wasn’t where they were, and I didn’t see what they saw.

I was busy being where I was.

They weren’t in my head as I anticipated every single move made, and adjusted accordingly, while continuing to plan my own survival.

They had no idea that I never planned to jump up start dishing out what I had just taken. I simply figured that he would tire, quit, declare himself the victor, then I could pack up my lumps and go home.

They couldn’t get their head wrapped around the fact that I was mostly relaxed during all this…until the bones started to break…at which point, my fury became roused in a more tangible manner.

When I eventually did start to bruise about a week later, one of the worst mistakes I made was lifting my shirt and showing the bruises to someone who asked. It only added to the mystery of how I had managed to take such a beating, and also, hide it so well. Years of experience in hiding bruises should have taught me better.

NEVER show the marks. But this was someone I trusted…so…yeah…big mistake. People would just randomly grab my shirt in the hallway and lift it to see if it was true. Almost as if to say…“you’d never know he was covered in bruises, till you actually see them.”

But even then, it was as if they were thinking “how the fuck do you go on as if nothing happened? How the fuck are you functioning at all?”

What choice do I have?

Plus…as far as I was aware…that particular beating was quite lopsided as far as I knew. I never threw a punch, but absorbed quite a few.

Hide the beating in the places that can’t normally show.

Abusers know this.

However…

It works both ways.

I can become what you are any day of the week.

But you can never be me.

Heh...heh...heH

Yeah…kind of a snotty attitude to have, eh?

Or is it just a snotty attitude to espouse?

God forbid the survivors have an opinion.

It might…just…not…sit too well…with the observers.

^deadmau5 – Raise Your Weapon^

Yep…an easy target. No way in hell that I could ever even attempt to describe the more sordid shit that I’ve survived. Yeah…it gets worse. But I have to temper the telling of tales. And this isn’t about “letting sleeping dogs lie” either. If a tale needs be told…I tell it. I figure that’s the only reason I survived…to tell the tale, if, and when, and where needed. Not to satiate some sadist’s desire(s) via proxy (even tho, even sadists are just as human as the rest of us), but rather to encourage other survivors like myself to keep plugging. Keep going.

Keep going…

Keep going…

Keep going…

/shrug
^Deadmau5 – Faxing Berlin (1080p) || HD^

It’s confusing when “the order of the day” is surviving that day, and yet all we perceive is a world waiting to beat on us. Um…take the beatings as they come. You spend 5 minutes dealing with an impossible problem that eventually gets solved, and the remaining 7 hours and 55 minutes lamenting the previous nightmare and it’s foreboding as to the nightmares to come. Then you wait …

and wait …

and wait …

and wait …

until the next nightmare finally shows up. Is it any wonder that you think your life is full of nightmares and darkness?

I mean…look at it like this…we spend 5 days looking forward to one particular part of one day, and two days dreading one day.

Not such a bad margin, eh?

Seize the day peeps.

Or not.

WhatTHEfuckEVER floats you goddamn boat or whatever.

^Deadmau5 – Cthulhu Sleeps (HQ)^

 

20170610_101357

I promised Roob some pics, but I just noticed my phone is dead. I wonder if I’ll come through.

^Fluke – Setback^

cYa | cFa

^Meat Beat Manifesto – Prime Audio Soup (Vegetarian Soup By Boards Of Canada)^

*******

*Better now, Clicky? Good, okay play the Song…*

buzz-lightyear-tim-allan-tom-hanks-toy-story-woody-favim-com-297002