6:37:36 am.
I have been up for awhile. My face has been washed. I have people to complain about: my wife, my father, my brother, but the public nature of this Internet blog medium affects the information I put on it negatively, with respect to myself. I don’t get any benefit. If just one small thing was fixed as a result of complaining, that would be one thing, but, all I ever get are smart rebuffs, leading to confrontations with the potential for violence out of it.
I have guilt. I am an angry person and even my little son can not take me out of my mood. I should read him a bedtime story, and I did that last night, but one led to another. I refused a third. The second one explained the weather, and the first one was counting the instruments in a, . . . well, it is not a chorale. It stops as a ten-piece, before that it is a nonet. It is called “Zin Zin Violin”.
At any rate, my son may well be more psychic than I, and thereby detecting my mood. Or, he might be asleep still. I could use the word, “psychotic” to describe myself, but, it is no joke. And, I am doing the blog thing with my publication dates, so to foresee events is all the rage right now.
There are three scientific things: one, the universe is complicated, so the Christians are not to be believed when they give answers to that question. God is their answer to everything.
6:57:49
I am the same as the people I do not admire on their ability to write a good blog. I am extremely critical. If anyone were critical of me, they would have a field day. “This site is authored by a nutjob, is scientifically flawed in so many ways, is an affront to decent people everywhere, trying to promote drug use, and I see many symptoms of a disintegrating personality”. We are all the same out there, but some sins are inexcusable. Excuses are funny, sort of. My ticket is punched; I have a chemistry degree (from UCSD, 1984).
What are the other two things? I don’t know. If I try to remember, nothing happens. I think one of them had to do with the mission of this blog. I could claim that the Methamphetamine Anti-Proliferation Act of 1999 was unconstitutional, and that our Civil Rights are dependent upon the continuing presence of this exact controversial subject matter. However, there is an anger within me over this, and there is anger against me, too. It is not just the Congress, but some citizens as well, who want unconstitutional laws, including those who have done quite well within the present system. My anger leads me to write some fairly petty and trivial rants. I also get way out on a limb with the crazy world view. Compare the last statement with the general mission statement of a company, though, and you will see that theirs is patent nonsense. They have no mission beyond making money. They are not a family-oriented organization. let me show you. I just said something against them. When most people say something, there is no one there, or ever permitted present to question it. The statement used by us in a case in which someone gives “reasons” why they do things, is, “Let you tell it.” We are convicted in courts of law since we are never permitted to shout someone down. It is part of the Justice system, and is unjust. Injustice reigns supreme. Bad ideas are present, and whenever eradicated, reappear.
I found better photos of Phobos. Mars Express is the spacecraft in question, and a question exists in my mind whether these photos really are better than 1977.
We tend to copy the text as well as the picture, but, however grateful I am for the picture, I am not going to stop being skeptical. The loss of utility in science is the “diminishing returns” facet, where to complete this triad, there are “unintended consequences”, and “the psychology of previous investment”, not, “these are the best photos ever”, and I know: they did not say that. But, there is no other reason that that to fly Mars Express, now is there?
Here’s the guy’s space picture blog: http://jtintle.wordpress.com/2008/08/09/mars-express-acquires-sharpest-images-of-martian-moon-phobos/
Judge for yourself, please.
Now comes the part for which I notice that now my attention is focused eversomuchmore on a damned moon. At least I have the item to report. I have an experience to report. I was laying down sick on meth 14 years ago and I saw an image of a “Martian” in the room. I realize that it is the Green Goblin from “Spider-Man” on his flying jet ski, but that movie had not come out at the time, and the main thing of a figure up on stirrups is that it can involute. That is, the hallucination’s back-of-its-head can appear where the face was, when it is going to leave.
Now I am risking the download speed on some people’s computers may get stuck loading the page, because I am going to yet another image soon.
Before I do that, I would like to see if I have left something out since I mentioned three scientific things, and I bet I gave you two. Things I am remembering and failing to do so frustrate me when I am writing. Some voice recorder would help, but might also just contribute to the frustration. Also, I do not like the constant reference from others on i. I am fat, ii. I can not remember. Actually, the right age to perform at maximum efficiency is a range. You have to be both in that range and present when the Internet is at maximum efficiency. To do a blog on manufacturing methamphetamine, you need the additional constraint that manufacturing be a criminal enterprise. We are not writing about making beer, not scientifically. Here, do you want a good beer-making tip? Use a hydrometer. Let it bob up and down in the liquid. It has lead shot in the bottom to keep it upright. It reads out in degrees Baume. A toast: “I hope the cop runs over his own evil handheld field sobriety device (Breathalyzer)”.
In addition to not remembering, we also have the possibility that I never knew the fact in question. Why accuse me? I think I know: writing a blog is pissing off my wife and son, me writing, me on the computer, me not paying attention to them, for months now. Part of me is always thinking of what to write. I am not making money. I know they have ways to make bread with a blog. They must be degrading and make you a pauper. “Rebel, Rebel”, by David Bowie:
“Suffragette city”
(hey man)
oh leave me alone you know
(hey man)
oh Henry get off the phone I gotta
(hey man)
I gotta straighten my face
this mellow thighed chick
just put my spine outta place
(hey man)
my schooldays insane
(hey man)
my works down the drain
well shes a total blam blam
she said she had to squeeze it
but she
and then she
oh don’t lean on me man
cause you can’t afford the ticket
This is about people getting on you. I am Henry anyway. I am Stephen; that’s Step hen, hen is Henry, okay? Bowie only remembered two things. Frustrating is one out of three. The two are his school and his work. It is my work which is down the drain. I won’t have it next year, I have to drive 325 miles today to do it, my house is going to enter foreclosure, and waking up thinking about it was bad.
Thinking about the same things every day gives me a feeling I am “possessed” and the blog is how I want to exorcise them. My boss Alex says writing is good therapy for me, but that ain’t true. Always focusing on work while you are being paid for your time is what is good for you. I like that argument about medication the best. What a Catch-22.
I like the helping of my son getting dressed. There is more to do with his arm in a splint. That is good therapy for me. I think I’ll take him to shoot fireworks now, and publish this 3-picture deal. The thing I am heading for is “Mother and Child Reunion”, I wish to both reserve and share a title, “East of Time” I made up, for alternate dimensions. The “Mother and Child Reunion” is one of two things you can see in space, in the clouds of a nebula. This one’s in the Crab; it is a decidedly alien figure with a baby, therefore it is the mother. They are together as if the blast of the supernova destroyed their home world, and love was all that kept their image in existence. It is a Paul Simon song, and I wondered if he saw it and wrote it about that, but I cannot see any evidence of that. I do see evidence we saw the same thing in, “Call me Al”, on the angels spinning in the architecture. I have seen that. You can see it on speed, no other way, unless a genius can see it and does not need speed. But, everyone in the days in question took the drugs, John Belushi dies, Paul Simon hosts SNL like 3 times. The obvious recurring thought is, “Can drugs enhance creativity? If I can take it and make a million dollars, I will bite the bullet and consume the illegal medication; I have an excuse”.
We have to wait for “Clifford” to finish. That is not an excuse. I could be busy getting the fireworks and a stick of incense to light them. Elizabeth just walks in. A number 22 is on Phobos; that is the blog my previous post led me to; it was unscientific. You do not put the best “22″ over the picture like a football jersey, you outline the actual detail which you feel is a 22 and let us decide. My first take on 22 from that joker, Mars, is catch-22. He is all about war, and war has only scant relations to war in the days of the empire in Greece. “Catch-22″
is about war and is ten times better than “M.A.S.H.” It was a real book first. The first thing this morning beyond the unfairness of complaining’s unpopularity and my terror of loss of livelihood, like, my other knee hurts, was my dementia and inability to write if my memory is too poor to get over to some paper before I forget. I was going to do real definitions of words I have other personal meanings for. When I close the door and shut out the world, I am free of its propaganda and its peculiar demands in order to survive. Then, when I get my dope I have to gird myself to go back out there holding and also capable of a psychotic reaction when something distresses me. So, I call that threatening world a “screed”.
Etymology, Middle English screde, fragment, alteration of Old English screade, more at “shred”, c. 1789. {this is our Constitution ratify date, I used the word in Long Beach, around 1994, before I moved to 1787 E. Ball Rd, Anaheim, where I was busted in 1996. 1787 is the Constitution writing date}
1.a. a lengthy discourse, b. an informal piece of writing(as a personal letter), c. a ranting piece of writing
2.a strip (as of a plaster of the thickness of the coat), laid on as a guide
3. A leveling device drawn over freshly poured concrete.
I had heard meaning 3 in 1972 from an Englishman, Peter James.
My other words are not “shred”, they are rhetoric, rubric, and rote, for this word.
My blog concordance for R & F theory says it has no meaning so I can’t be wrong. I wrote that earlier, so I did not have the celebrities in mind, see? I wrote celebrities, in this case Yoko Ono, and I can not recall what I wrote; I must assume that I wrote everything about my (stupid?) various idiotic theories to them, and, so I look at their later work and they better say “Hi” to me, so, Yoko has put out, “Yes, I am a Witch”, and “Rising” is a word in a song title. When I made up the name, I knew I had bitten off more than I could chew; it was going to be hard to get that into theoretical form, it is too derivative, not fundamental, but it is 3 of 3. Most goes into Mir Theory; that’s come up on the Periodic Table, for meitnerium. But, just looking around I see a lot more things on the rise than I do falling things. That is because falling things go out of sight. That was what this theory was about
2157 @ 9:21, 10:21 actual
2159
Richard Nixon
2161 _/
