A Spell


My computer’s running really slow.  I tried to toggle-on the bold, and it hesitated so much I deleted the post.  I can’t say this is the “forward”, but, I like that, like a book.  I would explain leading up to now, and, after that’s a “preface”, where you preface your remarks, but, I think I feed another person to the sharks…I mean, I get somebody else to write the forward.  This is actually Round II of some shit where I published names and withdrew them, published and deleted abso-fucking-lutely everything, etc.  I don’t have to do that.  Not that I’m King Kong at all.  I just do what I am supposed to do until one day I don’t do it.  Reminds me, this depression, of the time in 1979 when this guy, Richard C. Hall, was talking to me on the phone.  He had a cold and shortly after that he was murdered.  Hey, you fucked in dope, didn’t you?  Or, as the Triad says, “You slam!”  They’d kill you for that.  They don’t resist the urge to have kids, and can open a life of crime to support ’em.  By now, all these people’s kids are fat, lazy and thirty.  So, they kill for you?  I dunno, a cold is pretty miserable;  it can always get worse.

My prefacing remarks are twofold, threefold.  I want to tell you not to whack off on a Saturday night.  All these women are out with women.  You can snag one no problem.  a young guy like you is what they are looking for.  If psi is real, the club is interested in the fact you are to behave as if you are being watched.  The walls have ears.   You picking your nose and eating it at age forty goes out from your pointy finger to the wall and from there, I dun know how, it is as if it gets picked up, when you could so easily dump on men, they are getting the gash you could have if you were not doing time.  Get out of the Laze-E-Boy recliner and wipe it on a tissue.  And another thing: out of “One God”, we work up the “One”, and let the “God” take care of itself.  You aren’t going anywhere.  Let’s move on.  “A spell”, means, well, since I put, “a” in there, the reigning sense can only be, “a period of time as understood by people in the South.”  If I mean, “A way to conjure spirits in witchcraft”, I am going to lose over half of my 300 readers.  Unfortunately, that is what I do mean.  I do spell.

“Are you a chemist?”


“Can you cook?”

“I’m an excellent cook.”

So, the “spell” aspect of this post will remain inanimate.  I have a few spent spells which gave insight into what people said, or prophesized a death.  They will go with this fact of time.  There’s no hurry to uncover evidence of psi.  Proof of psi is locked up in this other thing concerning the observer.  No matter how powerful it is, in time it is eliminated as a possible explanation for events.  The society is too secular to ever dumb down to the point that cheap tricks of spelling will convince everyone.  I have to research my stash of them.   I do not have the patience.

I was in a bar downtown and I saw a coaster under the glass of the bar, said, “Billings Beer”.  I just looked it up.  I can’t wait around for the post that demands them to arrive asking to be written.  I would not even write this except for the scientific gear implicit in our lives today.  We aren’t Mr. Carrot who can blow off ten thousand years of progress to get Internet and just treat it like something we may take or leave alone.  We built this.  Better engineers than we are have provided us a publishing platform for the masses.  Use it.

The cordoned-off street is University Avenue, yesterday.  The emergency vehicles and police activity are not there because of a crash.  It’s a scene of a police officer shot in the head with a shotgun.  “University” is not named after the vaunted party school, San Diego State University, formerly, “San Diego State College”.  They’re in different locations.  It is named after an early attempt to establish a branch of the University of Southern California, I believe.  We also have a University of San Diego, so, overall, a USC, and a USD exist such that in all possible worlds about 676 different three-letter-name universities may exost with no name used twice.  That’s not what I do for theory.  For theory, I let the computability stand for the rundown from the initial generator.  I must stay ahead of the curve.  Time waits for no man.  I do not do fiction.  I could title this one Oracle, because, we now have solid play for that, in computability theory.  An oracle is a black box with input and output where we do not care what mechanisms it goes through to print out results.  Of course, a human mind is an organic version of it.  I don’t mean “head” or “brain”, though.  I do a short calculation of my mental comfort zone below.   It’s a thousand square miles unless I asphyxiate seagoing mammals from…


I did call Detective … (kept back), a while ago on the subject of methamphetamine speed in my immediate vicinity.  The Union publishes a story; I can see my tracks.  See page B3 Wednesday, August 3, 2011, entitled,



I like a little cooperation in raising children in a clean environment.  I’m not as psychopathic a killer as some, and, if there’s no psi, I’m not a killer at all.  My own hairs stood up when I read, “The sweep was sparked by several citizen complaints and the Police Department’s street narcotics team officers seing a growing problem of open drug dealing and related crimes, including robbery, burglary and assault, near downtown, police Capt. Mark Jones said.”

I do not care if you are doing life because I ratted you out.  Am I supposed to believe you’d ease up off deez nuts if I limited it to a five-year jolt?  Just do a wake-up and soon, wake up and do your time.  You get inside and get some good food and come out all buffed.  The perp who shot this cop won’t do a single day, but look, I’m lying.  He didn’t just walk.  You gotta walk, telling yourself all the while, “I won.  Don’t look back.”



Now 2:12 p.m.

In-Q-tel Daniel Green, cyber-industrial complex

Sun, 8-7, Bob Schieffer, “Face the Nation”

Stats (?) died

“traffic backed up to the Oquogon (sp?)”

Stacks (?) died

“On a…”, I think, as I survey my room.  I am trying to match what I see with any object in my mind.

“Owner”, is the word coming back, an example of Echo One.

The definite click of a switch on the heater of the coffee pot is Echo Two grade*


* Soon, we’ll have a match for permutations of sample text without an exhaustive replacement, under a paradigm which takes the human mind through an automorphism, not more than it can remember.  The occurrence of n…a is unique, the replacement of t by i directed sympathetically to a serendipitous pathway.  We just require the timely requisite sample text, chiefly.  It will make some slight difference where on the earth a computer does its thinking.  To allow a random walk through inconsistency, let insanity occupy a position on a continuum, such that any mention of taboo subjects is “less sane” than another discourse missing that reference altogether, not, be there to identify the speaker, the referent, and the reference.  Practically all the blogs today are discussing, “The Emperor’s New Clothes”, so, “justice in America” is not synonymous with American Jurisprudence, which is why the Annals of Steve deign to keep track of whose territory we operate in.  A blow for freedom of human beings is distinct from the liberation of beer (free as in beer); so, you can see, there’s a sane a…i (“as in”), to ping.  AI in the general sense is, “artificial intelligence.”  We don’t have any.



We don’t believe in God.  But, we’re insisting on that pronoun capitalization for notation of the persona concordance.  That is, if schizophrenia exists, and, I am a schizophrenic, in a calm state I have up to a half dozen sources for things I say.  I may not be able to filter the outside world’s all their sources, but, mine are down to the words.  That is, they all don’t say everything.  One lives where events produce sounds, another one is set to think, a third hears the coupled reply, a fourth one repeats the sound of the initial thought, a fifth one remembers that.  A sixth reads license plates and associates the radio…



Splits this personality if six was twelve


1494 (Columbus wasn’t in the mafia)

…a seventh drives, an eighth plots the route, a ninth scans asses and faces and issues commands like, “ribet”.  Ribet is a toad, a toad is avarice.  The ninth has also run to suppression of any comment at all, such that I can view niggers and not think, “You scum-sucking nigger”, because, she’d see my lips move or my pupils dilate out the Morse code: N-I-G-G-E-R.  The tenth hallucinates huge 3-D superimposed geometries over top of the reality scene when I feel good.

The eleventh, a tail (as in graph), reiterated, “on up”, because, it has a waterfall of green text cascading down in front of my eyes for improved acknowledgement of information.  I’m 12 (2:50 p.m.), and, I’m going to take, “on up”, as, a field of unwritten blank 2-D space turned out for comments I can write down.  There are about 500 lines on up from here in this book*


*it’s ontological



in this book.  There’s a transform for stacks.

“On a”, “owner”, “on up”, “Meatball”, are four things and one doesn’t go with the others.

8-7 10:29 a.m.

I don’t want to be too clinical.  People are wasted*.




I’m thinking three.  But, what does research normally mean to you, since I do that?


Taking it aside.  Today’s license plates.  I mean, I see the license plates and they mean something to me.  Can I stop just writing things down and tie them all together?  No, not without snarling the image gallery.  It’s “this” dude’s birthday (James Randi).  There exists a “Gospel of James”.  James Randi is a famous skeptic, but, he’s strange.  I recall he gave a reason for becoming an American as, “the pigs ransacked Alice cooper’s dressing room.”  I must object.  First of all, you low-life creep, you have a mean spirit, don’t believe anything is supernatural.  But, you are doing a ton of illogic by attempting to make reason fit occurence.  You moved here to get you some of the good, not for some crying-out-loud had to be done, “it’s only right” reason, and, harping on your noblesse oblige is too much.  You try to pass for skuzz.  Let you tell it.  Dude has a standing offer (“uncollected”), for any “so-called” psychic to “demonstrate psychic power in a controlled situation (more liek a contrived situation amirite?)”  Then, I say, I’ll battle it out with you psychically and it’ll span the death of one of us first.  I get recoil, and, now it is my belief that skeptics are psychics trying to monopolize the power.  After all (afterward, afermath, aftershock), if it’s real all the science books’ll have to be rewritten.  For now, skeptics, they make a comfortable living while California falls into the sea.  I won’t stand for it.  You don’t deserve to get away without working by chasing after the same nickle as psychics, and insulting the intelligence of the public as people who need intellectual rounding-out, not needing  anything to be observable.  I guess I’m just here to draw the women in so you perverts can…and I am tired.






These took teh, “art of memory?”  Eh (jfgi)?  Then, it is not only Randi’s b’day, it is Kevin’s birthday (my brother).  A lot of words start with b-r-o.  It is also my cousin Helen’s b’day, and, these people were both born the same day.  Randi’s potential question: What about that?  My answer: I do not care about that.  I make war with war; we are at war.  War means a kill count, and, that’s the only information going into this.  I’m a black-hat psychic, a witch if you will.  With enough people cleared out when most of them don’t believe it, the world will have a shot at some truth for its own sake, in the end.  I do not expect gratitude.  Mr. Bond, I expect you to die.

CP care pages; now care pages and cop are entangled.  LF is life, cf. wife, YF, or YFS, “wives”, I believe.  They’re just secrets, not that a god can’t transition from the license plate to the radio.  Apparently, several levels of peace exist.  With your mouth shut, you are good, but, I’m not good.  I come onto the spam like Judge Judy forcing her way into court.  I’m heard.  Yes around.  “669” is if six was nine, 767 is an energetic, logical, mnemonic-take that.  793, well, this is going to be that these, all three examples, were about to exist, but, they mightn’t have existed if any pieces were missing. We can recall a lot more in a flood once we break symmetry.  I just checked 793 for primality, it is equal to 13 x 61.  However, the next prime is 797.  Clearly, “if six was nine” (a song by Hendrix), the 767 I saw would be the 797 of the code.  This is the one no mathematician has broken, but, in language, the computers work a lot ahead of us, and, the ultimate half-break is to see into the future, like infinity.  As long as two worlds could exist, the one has a thought in it, the other one doesn’t.  This means that insanity in a computer is that which looks insane.  How is a computer supposed to know when it builds a model, that there is a great deal of difference between killing real people and theoretizing about killing them.  To me, insane is the dance a person does on top of a big griddle.  They kinda sorta do not fake it, and no safe temperature above 500 degrees F has yet been found, although we haven’t checked them all.

Anyway, Christ has done this analysis and has something to say to you in James about rich and poor, about pure faith.


I’m a man.  Plus, above me on a certain scale are the gods.  All we want You for is to be beings in a higher dimension.  We need You to stand with one foot in the world of the dead and bridge the exact time.  Trajectories or orbits need to be solid paths, not just paths as in how to get there.  That’s what the dimensionality and the cardinality of the infinite is for.


2 Responses to “A Spell”

  1. Leb Says:

    Dude you have uncoverd the secrets of life. much respect


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