Thinking

Being a thinking and deliberick person, …

Being a thinking and deliberate person is only necessary when the people in your life are working as adversaries.  If I tell my child to eat or take a bath, it is the provision for eating and bathing that he may take  for granted.

The m-f-g is an action.  Notice I do not tell you to do it.  I only say how.  Thinking for yourself in the face of what this may mean to someone else will take away that expectation of not being targeted.  “I’m in the street.  Don’t they see me?  Surely they won’t hit me.”  These thoughts can be your last.  You get run over bad, just like in those extreme gifs.

I have a foreclosure, but I also paid extra on the principal and lost 50K.  Now, with a divorce, I am gong to be sued for eviction, and I do not occupy the property.  At one time, in 1985, I rented a condo, tweaked and ruined it.  This parallel situation means that I am only getting what’s coming to me.  Also, in 1985, I was a recent college graduate, and didn’t get a job.  The thinking and believing that one was a ticket to the other was mistaken.  Now, for twenty-five years, I guess there have been jobs, but not in years to come.  Collapse is what can happen, globally.  This is on the blog, Club Orlov.

I have even done things in spite of good advice, by thinking on my own.  Usually, if I have mathematically worked something out, I like to go ahead and execute it.   That’s not good.  The good advice is common knowledge.  The advice you get from blogs may steer you towards doing something you shouldn’t.

“I need some dope at this time.  What can I do?”

“Well, make your own.  Is there some problem?”

309

Bits

Insane people should not be demanding and receiving civil rights.  Who is insane?  The insane are found so by a court or by a psychiatric diagnosis.  They are thus identified by medical or legal means.  That’s a piece of it.

Lenny Bruce did “kike” or “nigger”, “spic” or even “mick”.  He did words in his stage act.  But, he was, in effect, persecuted contrary to the civil rights on freedom of speech.  He was a drug habituѐ (I’m doing it wrong.  I won’t be able to do it right.  It shouldn’t even be done.  That’s a small cyrillic with a grave.  Grave is wrong).  The other thing is poisoned.  These two, abuse and poisoning, constitute the recognized dangers of the cocaine.  But, I know cocaine.  It’s no good to read about.  The writing is not going to be true.  I don’t mean magically.  Just the existence means that taking it is already past the point of no return.  Science should inform the medicine, but we lost a generation of doctors because they took it.  It’s all right.  Another generation came along.

They got Lenny Bruce based on the same discovery where they got Al Capone.  They got Capone on tax evasion.  They did it wrong.  Capone was a racketeer.  They also said they were “untouchable”.  I am not saying that nobody is above corruption.  However, if the whole system is corrupt, and systems, not folks, get corrupt, then the existence of certain incorruptible individuals  in a generally corrupt government is cause for me to wonder how.

I do words like “ain’t”, in my free speech.  The whole thing is kind of silly, because they’re just words.  To be honest, I do not feel that all of my arguments are valid.  That’s because I only reach the intellectual pinnacle on a hit-or-miss basis.  I am trying, though.  They call it a rant on the internet.  That would be from, “ranting and raving”, an expression for insanity.

The argument as written can also be read by the author.  He’s the one who had alternate words to use, and can rewrite it with those words, in case he missed the boat the first time.  Eventually, it may work.  Often, Nietsche is blamed for Hitler, or “radical” Islam is blamed for terrorism, or various Christian atrocities are blamed on misinterpreting what it says in the Bible.  Either way, all that is is lying.  They are lies.  How about Hitler blame Hitler for Hitler?  How about you don’t point to anything anything says and say what it means unless you wrote it?

“Bits” is backwards.  It is really not the cliche, which is, “bit up a bit”.  What is ‘bits’ backwards? ‘Stib’, right?  Isn’t there a chemical called stibine?  Of course there is.  We know baby dogs are called pups (no spoiler); I need to prepare a language of baby atoms.  This one is the baby of antimony.  If the file is called a bitmap, why isn’t it called a bitsmap, if it has bits and not just one bit?  If people use ladders, they call out for a fifty-foot; they sound stupid.  “I got the sickle-cell”, someone might say.  Is that okay?

Yes,”even” “mick”.  You don’t have the  racial slur to incite Irishmen, because, you haven’t got the heart.

545

One of our new power plants blew up on a blowdown yesterday, in CT.  I had posts on either side of it, in time.  It was a chemical accident, construction workers.  I wrote about being one, too.  I usually don’t.  I am claiming to be psychic?  Well, you know.  Our union newsletter had a power plant on it earlier—last year.  No, the psychic, paranormal, that’s about something similar as dreams, to one of us.  To someone else, it might mean justice.  In the dream analogy, you can’t read a newspaper in a dream.  To extend this, you can’t steal technology.  It has to come from somewhere.  How the civilization bootstraps its way along is complicated, or it’s just large , if it’s ESP.  That’s under the strong anthropic principle.  The guy from Alcatraz who came from Connecticut is named Whitey.  He wrote books, and has a story of recovery.  Last Train to Alcatraz.

697

Insane people cause chaos.  The diagnosis is not like crime, where after the debt to society is repaid, the individual may resume his or her life as before.

725

“No.”

“What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“No.”

“What don’t you agree with?”

“Everything you said.”

740

Cirque

I don’t go that route.

“We’re all gay.” —Ron White

Put the hook here.

Hire a guitar & riff.

Who won’t all thirty-seven?

Eight!   What the fuck?  Stephen, a blinding pulse of headache.  Are you crazy?? Hello, retards: next iteration, hello, faggots. That word, “gay” is eponymous.  You let that shit name itself.  Don’t do that.  Cars is an early song by The Cars.  They had to manipulate an increasingly self-deluded majority.  Aren’t they sitting on a sound as good as sound gets?

Christianity is rank faggotry from stem to stern.  Priests child molesting is no reason to take Protestants out of the sphere of suspicion.  It only makes it more likely to find systemic rot the further we examine the motives of such a thing as a secondary government.  The real government, armed to the teeth, easily pays off the “pacifist” and devious sector steeped in dogmatic rationale.  In return, certain outspoken individuals are attacked, morality plays ensue, and we who are left are never freed from the harangue of the celebrated “lessons”.  Not everything happens to “show you”.  If you don’t do it, you won’t know, and if you don’t know by now, you never will.

You are terrorized at each and every age below 33, as if you, too, may die like Jesus.  You can’t call them wrong.  You don’t know what’s likely to happen between  now and the day you turn 34.  Don’t even think about 37.  I have to say that 1990 is twenty years ago, but, I need to push it back three more years, to 1987.

I’m staying at the “Y”.  Protestant, right?  I am coming off a sentence in county jail, and I must secrete myself.  I am in a bad marriage.  Now, I have bums, retards, addicts and faggots.  The retards call the addict-faggot population “bums”; it’s eponymous if it goes to hobo.

Oh, plus me, plus me.  I know it is no longer necessary for people like Lenny Bruce to actually be guilty of crimes to be repressed.  Not now, perhaps not ever.  Thus, the draconian drug laws are there to feed victims into the maw.  The bad actors are the women, wives 45 or so, like mine.  There is an audience for the sports, for the young.  A ready audience of faggots and women, and the stuff they want to drink must be quite intoxicating.  They have a good thing going.  They have to own their end of the government in a Faustian bargain as feminists, a power group.  All you’d need would be a similar power group on the drug question to do basically whatever you had a mind to.

“Sometimes I like a nice, succulent vagina”, my room mate, and, “I used to have good teeth, with a gap in the front.”  I tried to imagine him with teeth.  I came in one time and I had caught them doing something.  I should have backed back out.  They were ready to jump me.  It was coke and something else.  But, they only kick them out for the coke disturbances.  They got a poster, “Engaging Newcomers.”  They do.  At the YMCA, they see marriage as being about getting engaged.

To come, the verb infinitive (Lenny says it in  a routine.  He has worked it out; the verb intransitive).

The radio, like any subsystem, must be used properly for awhile before it can be extended to mimic other things.  I don’t like the workforce of labor unions.  That’s why I seldom write about them.  I owe the union a lot.  It has trained me and kept me semi-employed for ten years.  I just don’t like the people, nor do I appreciate the hard work.  I don’t see any of you volunteering to walk steel beams.  So, you either gear up and bail out when the truck stops rolling or you will be run off the site.  Ride with your tool belt on and remove any items which may dig into the upholstery.  Hold them in your lap.   You won’t work until June hits in the desert.

The radio sits one inch from your ear, or reposition it.  We’re all tuned to the same channel.  Keep it brief.  You don’t buy a radio and that is what you try.  If you yell it swamps out what you’re saying.  If they don’t hear you because you are yelling, and you yell louder, they won’t hear you still.  Walk out there.  They have the hammer.  Unless you walk out there calm, poised and crisp, “Turn your radio on,” I’m subject to want to club you with it.  I’ll meet you halfway.  We don’t work unless it’s noisy, dusty, hot, after driving forty-five miles.  We carry an eight-pound sledge, a hub bag, a lath rack with forty four-foot wooden lath, and our tools.  We also carry a lot of spikes, 60D by name.  This is over earth which has been ripped.  The spikes are nails; we also better have P-K nails, C-nails, blue nails, and tacks.  We don’t have water.  We take breaks.  At 115 °, we change and do carry water.  We should start working at 90° and get ahold of a Gatorade bottle before it gets hot.  The spikes aren’t always there.  Are you going to pound in a spike with a sledgehammer?  Don’t say my name over the radio, or point to me, or look at me in front of the boss, Mormons.

“Juan, this is God.  I command you to go right a foot, to the gun half a foot for another shot.  Right a tenth, to the gun five for a hub.”

“Spike ‘em, fuck ‘em.”

“Negatory, Juan.  Good for wood.”

“Need another shot.”

“Away three, left a couple.”  You got to carry the rod.  It’s carbon fiber.

“Shot for a tack.”

“Away a tenth, right seven.  Bump it.”

“It won’t move.  Can I hang it on the edge?”

“No.”

(quietly)”I got to take out a rock.  Stand by.”

“Gun a foot, left thirty.  Gun, uh, twelve, good line.”

“Shot for a tack.”

“Right one, to the gun one—good.   A tack!  A tack!”

The God is nothing more than a very elaborate Wizard of Oz deal, or it’s going to be a very long day.

1030

Jew

Dustin Hoffman, himself a Jew, plays Lenny Bruce. In the book by Albert Goldman (again, a Chosen People), some documentation is presented which shows the real, literal, instruments of the time.

What’s the truth, what’s reality, and what did they have in mind?

One thing is a confluence of the reader’s or listener’s ideas of self with a proffered reality of which he is invited to become a part, with his immediate satisfaction as to the outcome. If his satisfaction is short-lived, the contractual and conclusive exchange of money leaves him without legal recourse. Lenny Bruce is killed. Now I remember what I wanted to write.

What’s the truth, what’s reality, and what words are whose?

Once the word is inducted, the concept in use of a party, “We”, is that literal device permitting a party of the second part to readily substitute for the exclusivity inherent in the writer/reader contract, or, in the understanding of membership/outsider. Or, allowing for ESP, the actual identity of the person doing the speaking, whenever thoughts are rendered or experienced whatsoever, which is always. Without allowing for it, legal insanity and misinformation are often left to explain how results appear to terminate the existence of individuals.

The methamphetamine explains the words used by Mr. Bruce, not the heroin. The condition known as paranoia is easily one avenue to explain various aspects of human rights, when casting doubt upon them. Certain contrarian arguments often place extremes in the role of the opposite to some case, and then, the case becomes absurd. The truth is only particulate. It has neither independent motility if it does exist, nor does it exist in spite of the least abstract matter holding it up. It can’t gather momentum. That’s why The Battle Hymn of the Republic, and The Declaration of Independence goes out of its way to state them, not because they are true and no one should ever lie when writing a song, or ever has, but that they are false and someone had something to gain by shifting the focus not so much away from all forms of authority, but to indict one form at the expense of sensibility. The crimes of the current regime are fresh and visible; those of the addicts about to take over are yet spiritual.

I am writing this, and the drugs are in more general use within the culture, but the use of drugs accompanied by the speaking of your mind leaves many with little faith in the larger concepts involved. That last paragraph, with ju57 the words truth, word, real, seems to apply for the Bible. It has all that. Beware of substitutes. Prophecy is a focal violation cut from the fold. Nuclear weapons, no longer words, the scientific legacy of the Bruce period, are sufficient to fuse all living people into one big victim class. If they needed to carry the threat forward in time by being larger, that aspect was provided. They can’t be taken over after their owners are eliminated. They are an automatic shock collar. May I make a recommendation? You must not get fifty billion new cancers. No amount of clean living will make a difference in the statistics. The average life expectancy will drop to four years of age. No one born is likely to see their seventh birthday.

Of course, it’s not that bad.

560

“Uh, hi. I’m going to come with some chicken. If you want, you eat and then you go.”

“Well, if you are going to feed me, I’ll stay until you get here, but, if you want to go to the zoo, I’ll drive you guys, and buy Nicholas a toy. Decide when you get here.”

“Don’t be on the computer, and be most willingly to help me with groceries.”

“Okay, bye.”

Smooth as glass, however, but don’t—leave that window open. I’m sitting here shooting up and I had the curtains closed. I had to drive it home with that big black hole right next to me. I couldn’t watch for the heat and fiddle with the rig.

677

Logistically, even one person’s possessions or life is not how to get from Point A to Point B. It undergoes transformation in transit, Point B is undefined, and give someone their daily bread, and they are likely to demand that that include all forms of anything which may fit under the umbrella term, “bread”. Or yes, Brad. He may fit under the umbrella term, Marvin and they both get off up in Hillcrest every Friday regular as clockwork. You know, I hear the fags are chopping up your dope in the back room, so go see, or maybe they’re going to gang-fuck you, I forget which.

783

Mestizo

“I am divorcing him and we still fight again?  No!”

This is the best I can remember about the fight.  A portion of the responsibility appears to be unassigned.  She did argue her side pretty well.  She has some clean time.

That means the blame goes against neither party (I am watching the courtroom scene from Lenny), since the damage was hypothetical.

In my previous post today, I ended rather much jingoistic.  The travails of the Native American are something of a legend.  The whites of whom I belong to take pride in the lack of a race-mixing shaping our cultural norms.

This fighting, this unemployment, all of the backbiting commentary, all of it, …against the Sioux Nation, are part and parcel of a recovery mode without recovery.  Instead, it is a descent into self-pity, and yielded heavily by any adherence to Christianity.  Thus, you can’t have a head full of AA and an head full of alcohol.  The theory is that conflicting goals will conflict, and the abstinence will eventually win.  They don’t mix.  The theory is a lot of things.  I admit that.

This is just my nominative wife.  On my other failure, I tried Japanese.  But, my declaration of my own Christianity must be stricken.  May you find him now.

The insanity of hearing voices must be taken with a grain of salt.  Writers have to role-play.  Christianity as well, from  last night when I went at a Christian, in the mind, not only hearing but saying, in voices.  They call it praying, and I trolled your dude.  I said, “What about this silent wishing and hoping that it all turns out for the best for someone who is in a bad way?  I notice that I don’t say that I hope he is okay, I say, ‘God, please watch out for him’.  That’s prayer, isn’t it?  I know you do that.”  he said, “The Bible says you should pray out loud.”  Ah, not only be crazy replacing first person by Third Person, but mutter to ourselves.  Do you imagine that if I say that blasphemers should be burned by holy fire that someone won’t claim I threatened to burn down their house by arson, and that I know how to make meth so I can assuredly carry it out?  Naw, they will.  Been there.

Relate psychiatric drugs, Christianity, ethnicity and methamphetamine for you?  Certainly.

First, I live in a place with a large overall population, with a large percentage of Hispanic “citizens.”  During the time when people all lived in one place, they did things as they saw fit.  That was Mesopotamia, at Babylon, in the South of Iraq of the  present, and these were citizens of Sumer.  Residents.

During the time when some people were overall doing one thing, and others were doing something else, what they ended up doing determined who they ended up being.  The Hispanics of today, if made of genes from Spanish and Indians, are made up of two separate cultures, each of which the whites have defeated.  Once they were mixed, we beat them.  After this is when we live now.  As different peoples live in countries side-by-side, although much of the intercultural hatred remains, it is suppressed.  Put in a word, “cross-cultural interbreeding” or something, and then introduce the Africans.  Now you have the culture as it exists further and further south.  Even a hundred years of cocaine imports will not strip the hide off a cultural Moloch of that intensity.

I listen to them and I learn about them.  “Do you speak Spanish?”

“No, I need to use chemistry to define computer language and secure too exact of a match to one language in code to risk two.”

I did ask one lonely person at Chuckie Cheeses what “laughing out loud” in Spanish might be.  He said “ruido”; my wife said that meant  ‘noise’;  she gives me carcajada for lol.

I listen and judge. I hear, “That is some good ________ they speak there.”

665

Spanish or Castilian (español or castellano) is a Romance language in the Ibero-Romance group that evolved from several dialects and languages in the …

To my ear they are using the terminology akin to that of tasting good food in order to express the absorption of dark-and-light skin genes within their disgusting hedonistic reveling at being made of a recent conglomeration, like trying on a leather restraint, or speaking around a rubber ball.

Whites do it, too, on TV all the time, saying, “That’s good stuff”; acting like they are wiping a tear from their eye after peals of laughter.

I do it, too. Say something:

“_______________________.”

That’s a knee-slapper.

773

Imhotep

I am pasting my stats below:

Blog Stats Summary Tables

Total views: 56,406

Busiest day: 17,050 — Saturday, February 6, 2010

Views today: 515

Totals

Posts: 556

Comments: 94

Categories: 13

Tags: 33

TOWNSMAN “What do we do now?”

CLINT FUCKING EASTWOOD “Now?  Now you live with it.”

Yesterday in the afternoon my blog went viral.  I think that means it exploded.  It exploded, anyway.  If viral doesn’t mean that, then it didn’t go viral.

That quote is from High Plains Drifter.  Eastwood’s character is called, “The Stranger”, and this or similar characters are all he plays, when he’s in a Spaghetti Western.  I’m no special Eastwood fan.  It does not work like that.  People like me, born in 1952, …Americans, and they could be born any time, and our folks knew that, so, they gave us the name Baby Boomers.  Without it, paragraphs can come out sounding cumbersome and self-important, stupid actually, like this one.

The stats above, short for “statistics”, are there because I can copy/paste.  I woke up in the Klondike in an arctic afternoon and had a brainstorm.  Among my thoughts were that I was missing the IRS 1040 2009 W-2 facsimile from my lender.  I haven’t been opening their letters lately.  It is depressing and such letters are called “dunning” letters.  However , I forgot about needing the tax statement on the interest paid, to get a deduction.  Then, I remembered.  I knew that my last sober moments before I got high were my only opportunity to make sense of my life, so, I took advantage of it.

There are three lies in that one.  I’m not in the Klondike, it is not called a W-2, and I don’t use.  The first lie is one I heard, as a word, klondike, which I then proceeded to incorporate into a sentence for my own entertainment.  Wait a minute.

“You heard, Steve?”

Yes, test the water (before you go swimming).  Try remembering about six facts and get them down on the screen.  That’s all, just memory.  While I was writing the first one, I heard another one, which was messing with you.  Before that, I had a notion to explain which book I was looking for in the 300s when I found the drug books I have.  Before that, I had become infamous overnight.  Yesterday, I described dreaming and left out the relationship between browsing the stacks in a library and the images you see in a dream.  It’s quiet, there are rows hypnotically passing by, whether you are walking or they are on a conveyor belt, and, it’s just a place you love to be.  Sometime after I started this paragraph, the word, boring, came to me.  That I take literally.  Earlier still, I was cringing with the weight of my life’s burden.  Added to the event of becoming so well-known, all I could think of was that it wasn’t ESP.

“The internets are real.”

“Yes, and you are merely a splinter of myself, Steve.  You don’t really exist.”

Both speakers in my dialogs are me.  I can’t carry on as a splinter of myself.  I should stop when I am me.  I don’t know how to do that.  I do not know how to capture the “Blog Stats” graph and display it here in a blog post.  It is in an embediment of Adobe Flash Player.  But, I do know that excessive effort on my part to achieve and exploit notoriety was not in my outlook.  I’ll be sitting here at my computer when they come to foreclose on the house.  They’ll carry me out like they do Granny on The Beverly Hillbillies, in her rocking chair.

“I ain’t a gonna leave this chair, Jed.”

“Come on, Granny.  We’re movin’ to Californy.”

“I told you I ain’t a-gonna leave this chair.”

See? I got fifty-six-and-a-half-thousand total views, and 17,000 of them were yesterday.  I am tempted to employ a calculator (base jump), but let’s just sit here and use our wits, or, why don’t we recognize the computer for what it is and get back to basics, where we can (travel), …

I thought I heard footsteps on the stairs.  People like me don’t share the space with others if we are doing something we shouldn’t.  It is the cat.  I got the idea (mother or mud) from a cat, named Kiki.  It trips on the threshold of a sliding-glass door and I am there.  It doesn’t like to be seen to be clumsy.  It gives me my mother’s typical look of disgust, which is often the exact element of dynamic tension I do receive.  When somebody hates you, others utilize the individual’s opinion and adopt the hatred as their own.  I started writing above, where I ask what to do, because, now that I have pasted text from my backstage page, maybe the links take you (no spoiler “Q&cir”), to my inner domain.  I was afraid of hacking myself.  Of course, this fear is unwarranted.  That would be a bug in the program.  When there are bugs, such as, when you ban someone, your name is taken off their friend list, or else it’s a bug.  The writers, who are programmers, soon fix it.

Much of the original burden of this fame was removed, originally.

“What fame?”

“Well, when you pulled me backwards off the bench all the eighth-graders saw my panties.  Now I’m going to kick your ass, Steve.”

I mean, I know I have my anonymity, and that’s asinine.  I don’t remain anonymous on the internet.  You can’t handle the truth!  It isn’t what the fuck I say marked “true” or “false”, it is who is (masturbating) saying it as well.  I thank you for supporting law enforcement.  You aren’t going to alert the FBI on a key logger for reading my blog on a click through fucking a (knothole) glory hole.  Thank you for … I wish to thank each and every one of you 17,000 (Irish dancers) and I am sure you can have five minutes apiece and we’ll slam some sausage—Snausages—whatever they feed us in jail.  Of my time and I am only glad to give it (x, cross); to come across with the goods, as it were.  And could you please tell me about the fifty ways?

I am a Christian and I believe in Jesus Christ as my personal savior.  Us and Indians, feather, made a to-do on this continent.  And (strapped),

no matter what happens from here forward, and, sincerely, no matter how badly they want to kill us for what we did, we are more than willing to repeat the experience.  Have a nice day.

1093

Reddit

My comment copypasta’d:

Hello, retards.

I’m the source. I write the blog. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. You made my page views go from c. 200 to 10,000. The blog was a Free Speech deal, so, notice that you are not absorbing drugs, just words. Go to the site, take what EVAR I wrote, and discombubulate me on CHEMISTRY facts, not your damn opinion about your hypocritic attitude towards drugs, or, for that matter, sex.

Now, the problem is, meth is the only one of its kind …

<b>quote</b> msiekkinen

After getting carded and flagged for buying Sudafed I figured it was my responsibility to <i>actually</i> know how to make meth out of it. Thank You, Internet. (sbillinghurst.wordpress.com)

<b>unquote</b>

“Actually”? Sir, that’s bullshit.

end copypasta.

123

Secretary

Six years ago March I stuck some papers away because I’m mental.  It’s not mental to have them, it’s mental to save them.  I have to move and I am in distress.  This is rushed.   It is my fourth post today, and my wife can go ballistic over my internet use, and she’s right.  I don’t make enough to support the family.  The divorce should be final in x amount of time.  The default going to a sale has just done so, on the house.

All we are talking about is chemistry.  The scientific community is one thing, but, the earlier a blog goes up— wait.  I hit unwarranted self-importance.  I’ll redirect: The methamphetamine may be recognized ultimately as the more important of the two, the other one I don’t have a clue, but this is synthesis.

My buddy Wenkert trained a chemist born in Czecholslovakia named Tomas Hudlicky, who, near a page on Wenkert’s 1988 synthesis of something (he always says stuff like a strategy of a retro-Michael addition.  Sounds like him).  Turn around.  This guy wrote, The Way of Synthesis, a 2009 book, very thick, paper.  Be that as it may, he saves his doctoral proposal and prints it.  He marries a woman.  They live together and are tailor-made to write this book.  I have to use it initially to see on some stuff about the current utility of the 1978 phenylalanine meth synthesis and a lot of stuff.  It appears to be there.  How meth is supposed to come to the fore in the world is not a function of synthetic excellence per se.  Cocaine did it.  It is really more of an idea how much drug there is in the world.  We should know that.  Certain numbers tell it, others hide it.  The worst schools hooting is the one on my birthday, ED.  An earlier worse killing is by dynamite.  So get your facts straight before you go and try to paint somebody up as a liar.

The 1988 Wenkert is a parallel world.  I was owned as early as 1970.  I failed by 1977, when Hudlicky got his PhD.  You can’t respond in kind to the troll once you are established, but the establishment has to continually shed its skin like a snake and get re-established.  It always loses credibility, no matter how serious it says it is; no matter how important it says its work may be.

Hudlicky had written, and I can follow my thought process as I describe what happens next.  I can’t give the speculation on how ESP works.

He said it is good to save this sort of thing, and I am looking up, because I am reading in bed in the afternoon.  I am filled with dread.  I can see many boxes and jars without labels which will have to be gone through.  I don’t know whether to move in or out.  I set my sights on one and determine to ascertain whether the contents may be dumped.  I rue the day we leave.

I find a plastic cup first, the kind slot machine players carry their quarters in.  Inside that are several receipts, and a piece of paper in my wife’s hand, guessing different names to name the baby.  I use a glue stick and place all this in my scrap berk, on the back of my mail for today, a certified letter of a default sale.  I must now vacuum.  It’s in a  swirly green 3-ring binder.  Surely a row of binders is easier to keep than a stack of papers.

The people always laugh at me when I go in an office supply store and ask how to get organized.  They point me to the book side.  I had already asked them if they were knowledgeable.  I say, “No.  This stuff you sell in here.  All these colored pencils, post-it notes, binder clips, file cabinets.”  I drop what I am holding in my hand at the counter.  It makes a thud.  “How do you use all this?”

665

Abner Doubleday

Laws:

1. You are only as fast as your slowest dude.

2. If it is all about the alliance, it can’t be about the money, the lulz, or the truth.

Word:

alliar makes you guys allies.

My task is to stick your alliance together.  AD, this title,  the inventor of baseball, makes it so I can shorthand this dream, a very sunshiny dream with grass, near a fence.  Upon awakening, and so, also “in” the dream, that is, a dream is what you still remember. (We work at a temp agency) And, the bindle of drugs opens and inside are an ounce of clear beads, like fish eyes, tapioca.  They shimmer in the light.  The whole pile rolls back and forth, wanting to spill over each other and out.  Someone important is in danger, a woman.

Things aren’t about an alliance, or about independence.  Situations that were working no longer work.  They degrade.  I feel degraded.  ED doesn’t say they don’t work.  All they say is that you are doing it wrong.

170

Pum!

How could I tie this together now?  I have “defaulted” to the nearest cliche!  That word is “wampum.”  …wampum to the Indian, lulz to the troll, however the form actually is, because it’s sculpted for metaphor.  What Indian?  What money?  I think it’s a greater reward.  “Not dot”, to the first question.

My ring is still on my finger.  I am soaked to the skin.  Disregard that, I’ve changed.

I showed up and had truck with my wife, Batshit.

Let’s go ahead and move down the page.

Yeah, I am big around here.  I’m here, and the trip was sprinkling, but

9:59 I hurry to get the car parked.

I bottom the suspension out and decide not to hurry.  Next would have been connect with two cars to parallel park.  All times are approximate.  Timing is important to humor.  It was beginning to rain when I walk up for my 10 o’clock visit.

No boy is ready.  The door is locked.  I hear someone yell visciously and I don’t know if they are yelling at me that way.  I hope not.  I cup a soft imitation baseball and grab a scooter, which gyroscopes on me.  Nobody cares if it whacks the wall.  We never have, not just since the Notice of Sale.  The dirt door jamb patina lays mute witness to the hovel level of this dwelling.  I don’t smoke or drink.  That’s what I care about.

I take the rotating scooter and pocket the baseball.  I have an arm left, so I bundle up my all-in-one printer.  I’m going to say she made me drop it.  She’s already warned my son to watch TV upstairs.  “There’s going to be drama.”

Parental strategy, at opposition to no strategy, has watch/ upstairs? The child is given the correct answer subliminally.  I use no strategies.  I use force.  I already weigh as much as a walrus.

It rains so hard outside I feel abused.  I do not even have the presence of mind to get the umbrella I carry in the car.  I am reminded of fog and resolve to post about how to steal.  I want to weave it like a basket into the cooking, and be sensible.  You need a gun.  Burglars are part of the scene.  You don’t get a .357, you’ll get a Luger from some collection, but it will cost you one quarter-bag of go-fast.  Coming up like hillbilly cousins.

Like rain and shine, like Elton and Eminem, like Liddy and Leary, and like Pat Boone and Alice Cooper.  These characters anchor the end of a spectrum.

“Pum!”, I think, is a plum held aloft, but, I never examined it in the light.  I can see it’s wampum now, and wampeter exists, and that could also be inspired by wampum.

460

Kurt Vonnegut, Cat’s Cradle

464

The religion of the people of San Lorenzo, called Bokononism, encompasses concepts unique to the novel, with San Lorenzan names such as:^[1]

• karass – a group of people who, often unknowingly, are working together to do God’s will. The people can be thought of as like the fingers that support a Cat’s Cradle.
• duprass – a karass that consists of only two people. This is one of the few kinds of karass about which we can have any reliable knowledge. The two members of a duprass live lives that revolve around each other, and are therefore often married. “A true duprass can’t be invaded, not even by children born of such a union.” The novel cites the example of “Horlick Minton, the New American Ambassador to the Republic of San Lorenzo, and his wife, Claire.” The two members of a duprass always die within a week of each other.
• granfalloon – a false karass; i.e., a group of people who imagine they have a connection that does not really exist. An example is “Hoosiers”; Hoosiers are people from Indiana, and Hoosiers have no true spiritual destiny in common, so really share little more than a name.
• wampeter – the central theme or purpose of a karass
• foma – harmless untruths; lies that, if used correctly, can make one a better person
• wrang-wrang – Someone who steers a Bokononist away from a line of speculation by reducing that line, with the example of the wrang-wrang’s own life, to an absurdity.
• vin-dit – a sudden shove in the direction of Bokononism
• saroon – to acquiesce to a vin-dit
• stuppa – a fogbound child (i.e. an idiot)
• duffle – the destiny of thousands of people placed on one stuppa
• sin-wat – a person who wants all of somebody’s love for him/herself
• pool-pah – wrath of God or “shit storm”

Busy, busy, busy – words Bokononists whisper upon witnessing an example of how interconnected everything is.

775

This is from the entry on “drug”, but I am giving you the one on suicide.  It’s frustrating, I know.  Time doesn’t make sense.  Why does the queen die on that day.  Because.

808