Denny's Rant

 Used to be you went to Denny's on your birthday, and you ordered the most expensive thing on the menu, and you got it for free. Not any more. Nope, now you get a free "Birthday Slam," whatever that is...  https://media-cdn.tripadvisor.com/media/photo-s/12/16/0b/25/my-free-birthday-grand.jpg    And that's only if you sign up for their "rewards program."  Naw, that's alright.  I'll just go buy some groceries and go home and make chil. So, I'll add Denny's to the nope list now. Restaurants are nasty anyway. Sysco garbage. Restaurants kinda just dropped out of favor after Covid. Bob Evans' has been nasty since about 2012. Golden Corral has been nasty since 2019. (pre-covid) Red Lobster is overpriced small portions, but the food still tasted good last time I was there, 2022. ...Arbys supports Israel...  I'll just buy food and cook it at home. Fuck eating in a restaurant. Maybe a Waffle House, but that's about it, and only because you can watch them cook it in front of you. Fuck a nasty ass, Gordon Ramsey condemned kitchen. Everything's a PSYOP.

Guns, Laws, and American Freedom...

 One of my uncles, who was a US Marine in the Pacific Theater in WW2, had a lovingly restored, fully operational, BAR (Browning Automatic Rifle) sitting on a tripod in his livingroom, aimed directly at the front door, locked and loaded. That's where I come from. You don't wanna rub me the wrong way. 

 Big Brother successfully gave our civilian militias a bad name, by using the trilateralist owned mass media propaganda machine to spew lies about them, associating them with militant white supremicist fringe groups, and also with McVey and Nichols. (McVey & Nichols were CIA MK Ultra mind-controlled drones, used for nefarious purposes, and disposed of.) ..We are supposed to have an organized, well trained, well armed, standing civilian militia, with no association to the US military, and not under any federal authority whatsoever. This is written in the Constitution. It's there to protect us from tyranny. Welp, the goddamn tyrants fucked us on that one, didn't they...

I'm mostly White with some Indigenous American mixed in for good measure. But I'm a Rebel Soul. The heart of Spartacus and the soul of Crazy Horse influence my psyche. I will not go quietly. I'm here on this planet at this turbulent time for a purpose. I'm not exactly certain precisely what that purpose is just yet, but I'm preparing mentally for whatever I must do when the time comes. 

Big Brother, totalitarianism, authoritarianism, domination is all of our shared mortal enemy. I don't know what's gonna happen, or when, but I aim to fight when the time comes, by whatever means are available to me at that time. Bare hands, if necessary. 

Better to die fighting one's enemy than to be imprisoned or enslaved in irons.

May everybody's Deity of choice bless us all, in all of our endeavors.

If I had my way...

   If I had the means, if I was able, I would destroy most of the new buildings that have been built over the past forty years or so and replace them with the old buildings that were torn down in the name of "progress." I would replace the woods that was plowed under to build subdivisions full of McMansions and cul-de-sacs. Put all the trees back. I would scrap all the little ugly roller skates that pass for "cars" these days, and restore whatever old cars are still left. I would find me about 80 acres or so and erect a 16' perimeter fence with barbed wire to keep motherfuckers out, and I'd live in the loft of a barn. I'd have my own junkyard in the middle of my own woods. I'd also fire the SCOTUS and Congress and the president and all the stuffed suits from both mainstream parties, and all the executives of all the corporations, abolish the Federal Reserve Bank, and take all the wealth from the 1% and redistribute it so that everybody has a fair share. All men are created equal, so why do a little handful of old rich pieces of shit own all the wealth while 99% of us are poor? I'd plow the golf courses under and restore them to nature. I'd knock down the skyscrapers and eliminate the interstates that cut neighborhoods in half. Everything that they mislabel as "progress" would go back to they way it used to be. No more yuppies. No more eyesore highrises. And everybody would be encouraged to grow cannabis. All the "factory farms" would go back to being actual farms, and corporate would be rendered nonexistent. If I had my way, the world would go back to the way it's supposed to be. No more greedy rich bastards. No more McMansions. No more disparity. No more gestapo stormtroopers with badges. And no more cults either. No more fascism. No more royalty. Everybody would be equal. No more homelessness. No more tax. No more debt. No more innocent little kids starving. No more Big Brother watching you thru your webcam. No more oppression. No more racism. No more politics. No more wars. Just regular folks living regular lives.

Shoes...

 Ok. I had this girlfriend once who really liked shoes. She must've had 50 pairs of shoes under the bed. This will be important later. So this girl used to take excruciatingly long in the bathroom. I've peed out windows. But I digress... One time she was in the bathroom for a long time. A really long time. Too long. And I had to shit. So I reached under the bed... I reached way back, and I grabbed me a shoe. One that I figured she didn't even know was under there... I shit in the shoe. Then I wiped my ass with kleenex and stuffed that into the shoe. I wasn't sure what to do next. I was pondering this, when I heard the bathroom door open. In a panic, I stuffed the shoe back under the bed. Way back. Fast forward a bit, sometime later... She says, "Do you smell something?" I said "sniff sniff, No." She said, "sniff sniff, Amost smells like... sniff... shit." I must've let a laugh slip out. She said, "You think it's funny?!" I said, "No, just the way you said it was funny." She said, "Well I'm gonna find it, whatever it is." And she proceeded to walk all around the apartment, sniffing. I was grinning and gritting my teeth at the same time. I got up and took the trash out. Then i told her there was a rotten potato and I got rid of it. That worked temporarily, but I still had to do something about the shoe full of shit. So the next time I was alone in the apartment, I pulled the bed out from the wall, found the poop shoe, and wailed it out the window as far as I could. Pushed the bed back and called it a done deal. ...Until we were getting ready to go somewhere and she couldn't find one shoe. One particular shoe, that should've been right there, where she always kept it... ... ..Uh oh.  She had the bed out from the wall, and all the shoes laid out in pairs on the bed, and there was one shoe missing. "Where's my shoe?!" "I have no idea." (True. It went out the window, so maybe, outside?) "Bullshit. There's nobody else here but you and me. Where's my fuckin shoe?!" "I don't know." (Again, true.) So, I'm not gonna rehash the whole fight, but I was the bad guy by default. Again.

 ..About a week later we were going somewhere, and she just said, "Stop!" She opened the door yelling, "Thats my shoe! That's my fuckin shoe!" I sat there and watched her run over to a pink thing lying in the grass, pick it up, inspect it, reach into it, and drop it. Then she just started screaming. I sat there shaking my head, thinking, well, I'm fucked now. Better find a couch to surf on. She was on her knees now, still screaming. I thought about just closing the door and driving away, but I didn't. I pulled the door shut, but I just sat there watching her... Then something unexpected happened. I didn't notice the cop approaching until he was almost on top of her. When he spoke to her she screamed back at him. She stood up and started flailing her arms, and he took her down and handcuffed her. Oh shit. A crowd was forming by this time. Everybody didn't have camera phones back then, this was like 1992, but folks sure had a boatload of morbid curiosity. He pulled her up to her feet, and she kind of spit-yelled in his face, "He shit in my shoe!" And then, "Waaaaaaah!" I'm just sitting there in the car with my mouth hanging open.  As he was dragging her to his car, she kept screaming, "My shoe! My shoe!" over and over. She went to the psych ward that day. I went home and started packing.

Oops. My bad.

I kept a hairy eyeball over my shoulder for a couple years. You know what they say about a woman scorned. I honestly never expected it to escalate to that point, until it did. I didn't see it coming. Then I just sat there staring like a deer in the headlights while the cop hauled her off. I didn't even try to intervene. And then I just drove away. To assume she hated my guts at that point would be an understatement. I sold that car and got a pickup that she wouldn't recognize. I didn't mean her any harm. When you gotta go you gotta go. 

The moral of the story? I don't know. Maybe don't shit in your girlfriend's shoe?  I guess...

  And if you do, don't throw it out the window where she can find it.

Business As Usual...

I'm sick of politics.  I'm sick of the same old tired rhetoric.  I'm sick of the left and the right throwing shit at each other while all of us get fucked by both of them.  Answer these two questions: 1) What are conservatives conserving? 2)  What are liberals liberating?

I see the 1% desperately trying to keep themselves rich and the rest of us poor.  I see snowflakes from every corner trying to further their own agendas, while not giving a fuck about anybody else.  I see opinions flying like pigeons.  I don't see any unity.  I don't see much happening for the greater good.  Cops still bully innocent citizens while criminals are running the country.  The rich pay no taxes, but the rest of us are expected to pay too much.  They're systematically eliminating the middle classes and fucking the worker at every turn.  And don't even let me start abour religion.  Authoritarianism is not the answer, never was, never will be.  Fascism, communism, no real difference from the common man's perspective.  We get fucked over, taxed almost to death, and are expected to obey them like slaves.  Small business gets fucked because big corporate business doesn't want competition.  In a communist society the government owns everything, you own nothing, and they dole a few crumbs out as they see fit.  They expect you to be happy in your servitude, and obey them without question, attend rallies to praise the "leader" and kiss his ass, and if you don't, they send you to a gulag.  In a fascist society the rich own everything, including the government, and they expect you to obey them without question, accept the bare minimum pay, and attend mass gatherings to praise the "leader" and kiss his ass. If you don't, they send you to a work camp.  Doesn't sound all that different to me.  You get fucked by the man either way.  And religion is basically the same, obey us or suffer in fire for all eternity, give us 10% of everything, and never question anything.  Whatever happened to freedom?  Obey, obey, obey... Fuck you! i'm not gonna obey you! You can go pound salt!   

Redo De Doodoo. Redone De Dungdung. Redone Redundant Redundancies.

There.  There it is, there.  Where?  Right there.  Next to John Cena.  Can't see the forest for the trees.  People smile and lie thru their teeth at you while they shake your hand.  It's business.  SOP.  Happens everyday...  People cheat, cut corners, half-ass things, do sloppy work, no fucks given.  Happens on the job site.  Happens in the office.  Happens in the bank, the police department, city, county, state, federal government, etc.  Shit's in all walks of life.  Crap in a bucket.  Been going on for a long time, too.  Some contractor 20, 30 years ago did a shitty job on a house, and now it's falling apart. The owner doesn't remember the guy's name, if it's even the same homeowner...  The motherfucker isn't gonna get in trouble for doing a shitty job and ripping the guy off.  You apply for a loan or a line of credit, file an insurance claim, whatever, and they promptly lose your paperwork...

Shit happens.  That's what they say.  Shit always happens, and oh well, as long as it happens to somebody else.  It's not until it happens to you that you begin to give a fuck.  Now all of a sudden it's unfair!  Guess what, it was unfair when that guy ripped off Grampa Joe on his soffit & fascia thirty years ago, and it was unfair when Bob the Bankster stole Billy Bubba's farm out from under him, and it was unfair when Doug the Developer bought the land from Bob's Bank and destroyed it to build a plan of McMansions and a strip mall...  It's never been fair, any of it.  They tear down the ghetto to build gentrified yuppiedom, and they destroy the countryside to build projects to house the people they evicted from the ghetto.  Then 20 years go by, and the projects are now the ghetto, the surrounding streets are the hood, and the yuppies want to expand their territory.  They want to push the "undesirable element" of humanity (IE: The poor) further and further away from their fancy bullshit facade.  They push the farmers out and build suburbia for themselves, and more projects to isolate the poor away from themselves.  But downtown wears the gaudiest of plastic masks.

Everything is shit anymore. Buildings are built too quickly, out of the cheapest available materials, by the cheapest available labor, (which is usually illegals,) wrapped in a plastic face, and sold for an overinflated price, most often to yuppies or businesses that can't afford it but have "good credit."  
Vehicles are made the same way, assembled out of the cheapest available materials, by the cheapest available labor, (robots in this case,) mass-produced for mass-consumption, like everything else, and the cars all look the same anymore, they all look like plastic toys, not real cars. The last year cars looked like cars was 1979.  The last year they produced good cars was 1972.  

Everything is crappy mass-produced trash anymore.  There's no pride in craftsmanship.  There's no quality control.  Everything has a half-life.  New cars begin to depreciate the instant you sign the paperwork, before you even drive it off the lot.  The only thing that still gets better with age is bourbon.  Well, and old things that are already old, of course.  But most new things will never get old because they're built to wear out in a specific time frame.

Everything is a watered-down version of itself.  Everything is a caricature of itself, a cartoon of itself, fake and plastic, artificial...  {Consider the Mandela Effect..}  And it's all designed to keep the rich and powerful rich and powerful, and the rest of us in the fuck barrel.  You, me, college boys, wannabe yuppies with good credit, we're all being lied to by the privileged few, the .001% of the 1%.

And yes, it's all redundant. "Representative Democracy" is bullshit.  Who do they represent?  The rich motherfuckers that got them "elected?"  Certainly not you and me.  Maybe if actual working class Americans were elected, and provided they were not corrupted by the system, maybe we would get proper representation, maybe... and that's a stretch.  Blacks would side with blacks, whites would side with whites, Christians would side with Christians...  But if we could just remove the banks and the corporate world from government, maybe, just maybe, we might make some headway.  Removing the filthy uber-rich from government altogether requires mass revolution on a grand scale, which itself requires unity among humanity on a global scale. How can we accomplish that when the religious folks cant even agree on a god, and you can't even get two people to agree on pizza toppings?  People actually like and some may even admire Donald Trump. - Sitting here shaking my motherfuckin head as to why, but some folks do. They think he cares about America, Jesus H Christ, Trump cares about Trump. That's it.  Sure, he'd like to make the country into his ideal, which to the rest of us would be a fascist dictatorship, but ultimately all he gives a fuck about is himself. Bernie Sanders and Ron Paul are the only two politicians who have said anything even remotely sensible in my lifetime, and I'm 53.  But Dennis Banks might make a good president.  Colin Powell probably would have, and people actually wanted him to run, and he declined flat out.  That right there should tell you something.  It sure speaks volumes to me.

...Why the fuck?...

Better to rule in hell than to serve in heaven, they say. I say why must it be a choice of one extreme or the other? I seem to recall hearing someone in a movie say that only sith deal in absolutes...  So here is my line of thinking:  Why do they make it a choice between being tortured for eternity or prostrating oneself before the all mighty Deity, singing praises to It for eternity? Neither option sounds remotely enjoyable to me. I'm not a mindless minion. I'm a human. I seek neither to serve, nor to be served, but simply to be. I would spend eternity living on a green planet, with clean air and pure water, and all manner of life, without the ravages of modern society. Other humans may be there, as long as they have mutual respect for one another, and for me, and for all that exists, and as long as they give me my space and my freedom to roam where I choose. ...But what does it mean to be human? Are we just the most highly advanced form of mammal that we know of, and when we leave this existence we return to the dirt? Or are we Spiritual beings having a human experience, our physical bodies no more / no less than avatars which we use to interface with this dimension? Are we gods? Are we sons and daughters of Man? Are we kept livestock for some sinister superior race? Or are we just a multitude of fucking observers? What purpose does our existence serve? - None of these questions has ever been answered to my satisfaction, nor have any of these concepts as yet been proven or disproven to me beyond shadow of doubt.  Why do religions and governments have such authoritarian ultimatums and such severe punishments for disobedience? If to err is human, then why are we punished for being human? "Oops, I fucked up. I didn't mean to, I made a mistake." Beat-beat-beat! Whup-whup-whup! Cane-cane-cane! Jail, gaol, imprison, punish, inflict pain... Punish! Punish! Punish! Drag! Shackle! Enslave... Cage, domesticate, manipulate, control.....  How is that any semblance of fair? So then why is the unfair and unjust done? Why is this unnecessary suffering visited upon us? Or is it a necessary suffering, for some greater, as yet unrevealed purpose?    

What is a five year old's favorite word? "Why?"  I asked that question when I was innocent, and was given an incorrect answer. The answer I got was, "Because I say so."  Well that's insufficient! It's a bullshit answer! It's a fucking copout! It's not only insufficient, it's unacceptable.  Preacher man stands in the pulpit and says, "You will obey every word of this text, or fire and brimstone will rain down on you from above, for eternity! Because I say so!" I call bullshit.  Pa says, "You will do as I say, not as I do, or I will whup your ass with a leather strap, because I say so!" I call bullshit.  I recognize no outside authority, and beating me senseless won't alter that. Basically, if you can't or won't provide adequate explanation for your reasoning, then you must be lying, and/or your reasoning is flawed. That's how I figure it. 

When unstoppable force meets immovable object: {The Inquisition}

"Ok then, where is this god of whom you speak, who demands tribute and obedience, without explanation of reason, and punishes mercilessly for any infraction"
"He is everywhere, within all things."
"If he's in all things, then he's in me as well, for I am a part of everything, so then I am a part of god, so how can you punish a part of god? How can you abuse, torture, rape, pillage, and inflict pain and suffering upon a part of god? And why would he inflict pain and suffering upon a part of himself? Is he a sadomasochist?"
"Do not blaspheme! Do not question God!"
"How, by any stretch of imagination, is innate curiosity a blasphemy?"
"Yours is not to reason why! Yours is but to do and die!"
"Bull fuckin Shit!"
"You shalt not disobey!"
"Fuck you! I shalt do as I doth choose, and you shalt not hinder me!"
"Guards!! Seize him and bind him in chains!! Take him to the medieval torture room!!"
"I will escape this madness, and I will come back here, and I will kill you."
"We will kill you first."
"If so, then I will spit in your eye with my dying breath. ..Regardless, I will never obey you, and nothing you say or do can change that. I am human. I am free. I am me."

The UFOs are coming...

The UFOs are coming. It's only a matter of time. Linear time is a human concept. Fleas don't perceive time the same as humans. Nor do rocks. Mice only see what is right in front of their faces. Monkey in the mirror. Frog in the spaghetti pot. Pork chitterlings. Roasted soybeans. I stuck my tongue in her urethra, on accident at first, but then on deliberate purpose, while I chewed on her clit. Softcore cunt sucking of the finest degree. I assure you. Parakeets recognize other parakeets. Cheez Whizz on a Ritz cracker. Olive milk. Pulled pigmeat. Hog maws. I like butter. How is the whiskey in these parts? I hear the heroin is to die for. That wasn't funny. But then it never is. Mister Pee Bottle and the wee-back machine. Timecop with a $2700.00 a day cocaine habit. That rolly-polly little blondie in the backseat of my 72 Buick. I didn't know it was her maiden voyage. I made her squirt on the ceiling. Monte Alban Mezcal. Fuzzy beer. George the bug. Don't leave a belt of Black Cat firecrackers sticking out of your pocket with easy access to the wick where one of your drunken buddies, an asshole like me, for instance, can very easily lean over with a cigarette and light it. Oops. Bet that smarts. We were jackasses when them dudes were still in diapers. Pass me another whore. Never claimed to be any kinda saint. Blood rains down from an angry sky, my cock rages on, my cock rages on. And how much whiskey does it take to make a drunk pass out in his boots and winter coat? About that much, I reckon. And I wasn't stealing them sheep, I was just giving them a ride in the back of my truck. Honest, ossifur. Sorry man, no leg of lamb tonight. But maybe a pigroast next week, provided we can steal us a pig... Times was more funnerer back then, back when cars was cars and cops was cops, and dirtbikes was the only way to fly, c'mon let's go get high. I wanna piss, but I'm too high, but I was stoneder then, and drunker than ten skunks. Ten drunk skunks with a pitbull chaser. I love that nobody really knows what the fuck I'm talking about. Good shit, Bolt! Fried cow patty. Dead fish on a bun with cheese. I said with cheese!  ...Brotherhood of the minnow. Possum in the trashcan. Dog chasing a hog, yeah I seen it. Throwed outta the titty bar. What the fuck are you doing in the middle of the road? Drinkin.  What fuckin mailboxes? I don't have a hole in my tire. I don't have a .357 laying on the dashboard. You'd see it if it was there. The fuck are you babbling about? Ok baby, yeah, let's go up in your backyard and hang out. I got some really good weed and some ludes. Chicken and a pig were walking one day, chicken said "I'm hungry. Are you hungry?" "I like chicken. Gawmp!" said the pig. Pigs is pigs. I ran over a duck with a 70-something Chevy Monza on the riverbank. The girls had a shit fit. I didn't do it on purpose. We had duck for supper. The girls wouldn't eat it. I love aminals. My buddy hit a pheasant with his Nova one time, same dealio, we ate the motherfucker. What are you gonna let it go to waste?!  Poaching my ass. You know what poaches my ass? A four foot tire fire. I had a wire. It was my wire. Then I lit it on fire. This girl I know wants me to help her out of a jam. I want some pussy. But she's trouble with a capital T. And I been there and done that too many times before, not with this particular girl, but it's the same pattern. "I'm a poor little helpless waif, come and rescue me!" Never ends well. Never say never. Something about them junkie chicks.. Don't know man, maybe I'm addicted to addicts... Maybe my dick just doesn't have a conscience. Mother Lilith, may I cavort with one of your daughters? I won't harm her. I just wanna hold her naked sweaty body next to mine, for a time. But if you say I may, then I'd love to taste her. But if you say no, I may not, well then all's for the best. Trouble comes a-knockin at my window late at night, and I open up that motherfucker and say, "Hey Trouble! Come on in, let's party!" Then the feelings come sneaking in with her, and the junkie tears, and the protector instinct within me awakens. Look out Loretta. He's getting dragged around by the dick again. What were once vices are now habits, according to the Doobie Brothers. Trap. Steel jaws. Snap. Got me by the balls. Chasing after some young cunt again, like a bloodhound in the wind, this time it'll be different, that same old song again. Like iron to a magnet, like a dog to its own puke, keep on running back to Miss Trouble, that same old song again. A succubus will keep on sucking until she sucks you dry. It ain't her fault, boy, it's just the way she's made, she ain't even gotta try. She can draw you into her vortex with a subtle wink of her eye. And you ain't to blame neither, just a dog going after some pie. But shit happens. Fecal matter occurs naturally. My olfactory receptors are geared to sniff after the pussy. But we'll see what we will see. Maybe she'll find some other swinging dick to torment with her sweet lies...  Either way...  The UFOs are coming. You can't stop it. Donald Trump can't stop it. Maybe the Spirit of Nikola Tesla might be able to stop it, or at least delay the inevitable for a while. It's a crap-shoot. Who knows? Certainly not I. Maybe we ought to consult the Pussy Oracle.

Hairy Piss-Miss, very muddy

I purple a roadmap to pussy hole. No mung beans will know. Mudpuppy my bulldog with a nose hair booger on the windshield hawkenspit phlegm ball. Put the kettle on the nightstand kitty. I peel a cheese numbing pawn. Twelve trouts a-swimming, eleven lizzards meeping, ten Winstons burning, nine breadsticks baking, eight joints a-smoking, seven six-strings strumming, six pack of Guinness, five hits from bong, four stinky turds, three ink pens, two cats on bed... And a big fat bag of weed.

X-mas Frootloops

Spiritual constipation, coupled with diarrhea of the vocal cords, and abject moral bankruptcy... I love words. Except whenever I don't. God is great, God is good, let us thank him for our food. How do you know it's a him? What? Just because some self-important, anal-retentive preacher said so? Or because you read it in a book? Please.  You've completely ignored the Mother Goddess. You treat our planet, our own species, and other species as well, as though it was all just a plaything put here for your own personal amusement. A complete lack of respect for the Sacred. Total indifference to all but your own whims. Narcissus Rex. King Baby. President Trump. Royal Feces. Useless as tits on a bull.

One of my cats stepped on my dick while I was asleep, woke me up with a sudden and inevitable "Ow! Motherfucker!" And it was still more enjoyable than anything on the 200+ channels of drivel the idiot box has to offer. Merry fucking Christ's Mass. 

Here's some lovely Punk sounds for your auditory stimulation: youtube.com/watch?v=vx3kgKTX4Y8     Wake up, Donnie! An out of place disembodied jet engine is about to come crashing thru the roof and squish you like a roach...  

I think I'll go outside now and smoke a bowl of Frootloops.

Pardon my French...

Scuse me... Pardon me... Gotta shit! commin thru....

Now then.    Got my laptop, got my mousepad, right. Alright. I guess I'm-a rant about the French language again, or the strangeness of the pronunciation upon my American ears, or the mental processing thereof, or something like that. Dada language, avant garde ear crack...

...Now, how do they get "boozh-wah" out of bourgeois? Bourgeois is almost Boy George, if you just turn the vowel sounds around. For some reason French has always sounded pretentious to me, as though they were looking down snooty noses at everyone else on the planet, calling us all swine simply by their words, which incidentally have nothing whatsoever to do with swine, or very little, unless you're talking about porc.   And, while I do enjoy a nice pulled pork samitch, that is not the subject of the current rant. I never had much of a taste for pretentious people. I grew up in Pittsburgh in the 60s and 70s, where we pronounce (some) French words the way they're spelled, such as Dubois and Versailles, while others, such as Duquesne, are almost impossible to pronounce in such manner, so they roll off the tongue in the best way we can muster. Now it's easy to say "Doob-wah" and "Vair-sye", but not when reading them the way they're spelled. That takes a cunning linguist... 

What really irks me is when people bastardize American English with a phony Frenchitized mispronunciation, such as when someone says "Awnvelope" for envelope. The root of envelope is clearly envelop, as envelopes envelop your mail, so that nebby-ass folks can't stick their noses into your private business.  But folks see a word that starts with en, and automatically think it's French, and then do their piss-poor best to pronounce it as such. Stop doing that. It makes you look stupid. Part of the problem, I reckon, is schoolteachers who themselves had a substandard education. Maybe they should've spent more time outside with the burnouts from the smokepit, and less time focusing on trivial bullshit, such as trying to impress others with their bourgeois.... Fuck if I know. I was doing my personal best to become the biggest burnout I could be. But somehow I can't help but wonder about some shit. ..I know about Dada Art, Dada Music, the whole daggone Dada Movement... But there's one thing, one concept I don't think they completely grasp, and that is this: Dada Reality. We live in a ludicrous society, the very existence of which defies logic and reason. Example: How can anyone justify being a billionaire when there are little innocent kids starving somewhere on our planet? (They can't. Oh, they can make vain and feeble attempts to justify it to themselves, but to justify the unjust is impossible.) Look, man. We all went to kindergarden. We all learned to share, way back when we were little innocent kids ourselves, but somehow, by the time we got to high school, most of us had long forgotten this extremely important and invaluable lesson. It got pushed out and replaced by shallow self importance. We live in a shallow, Narcissistic society, where the Hollywood Insider and Lifestyles of the Materialistic rich bastards take precedence over anything which might appear negative, unless, of course, when it's some tragic event they can sensationalize, and/or use as a tool to manipulate public opinion. Cock sucking rat bastards. (No offense to gay folks and chickenheads intended, simply a figure of speech.) Ludicrous isn't a strong enough word to describe it, it's like ludicrous is standing just short of first base, not quite touching, and I need a word that's leading off third, waiting to steal home. That word, for all intent and purpose at the moment, is Dada.  We live in a Dada Reality.  That red pill is simply a metaphor, there is no actual pill. All those (Hundreds? Thousands?) little pieces of blotter paper dipped in lysergic saur diethylamide that I used to eat are metaphors too. I never metaphor I didn't like. But, I mean, come the fuck on, man! Donald motherfucking Trump as president, for fuck sake??! Have we all completely lost our shit? Or is it simply the logical progression of illogic? It was the Great Hollywood Election,  broadcast live right into your livingrooms thru the coaxial dick that permanently fucks your television right in the pussy. It was so blatantly scripted as to rival "reality" teevee. How in the purple polkadotted fuck don't people see this? It's so fuckin obvious it smacks you in the face like a cold dead trout, "Whap!!" 

    ....But I digress...

I've been listening to Captain Beefheart's Trout Mask Replica.

It's muhfuttin Xmas eve again. To my Christian friends: Merry Christmas. To my Hindu friends: Hare Krishna. To my Jewish friends, happy Hanukkah. To my Muslim friends: Don't worry, I didn't forget yall, just don't expect me to fast with you next Ramadan out of some misplaced attempt at solidarity, I did that once, mostly to prove to myself that I could do it, no offense intended, my Spiritual journey keeps following the next diverging path. To my Athiest friends: Happy December 24th, just another day, etc. And to my Pagan friends: We all had a good Solstice. To anyone else who doesn't fit neatly into any preconceived box: :) Rejoice in the knowledge that for the moment you are still inhaling oxygen. Peace, yall. I'm outta here.

Oops, I farted. Now what? Blog... Blog like a madman.

By the way, this post has absolutely nothing to do with farts or farting... Well, ok, maybe a little...

I realized something today:  The world doesn't stop spinning simply because you need a li'l break from it. People don't put their lives on hold just because you need to take it out of gear and put the parking brake on for a minute.  Wow! Day-umn. Who'd've thunk? Not me, at least not until I thunk it. I just needed a few days sabbatical from the fast-paced world of construction and building maintenance, so's I can get my shit straight before the upcoming bigass 16-week job that's coming up. Did I mention that it's upcoming? (Asshat!)  Well, as it turns out, just because I ask for a few days, it doesn't mean that everything else stops happening. Dogs & cats still need to eat and drink and poop and piss... Food still needs to occupy the fridge.  Dwindling cigarette supplies still need to be re-upped. Snot still issues forth from one's nostril holes, and farts still issue forth from one's asshole... 

There's the fart part.

(Side note: Dukey is easier to get off your boot than pookie. Dukey washes off. Pookie requires the use of gasoline, or mineral spirits, or acetone, or naptha... Some kinda solvent.)

Yellow and blue make green. Yay. At least that hasn't changed. Don't let Trump get his grubby paws on it, or it might start making covfefe, whatever in the hell that is. But I digress.

Blue is the color of my favorite coffee cup. Blue is the color of my favorite twisty lightbulb. And blue is the color of my Washburn bass. Maybe I'll plug it in and jam now. ...Is anyone even reading this fuckin blog? Well... That's a deep subject. ...Oh, and by the way, I farted.

I'm Fuckin Human. We're All Fuckin Human.

So...  You're born into this world.  If you're fortunate, you're born into a loving family.  Some are not.  Either way, you are exposed to the immediate environment around you.  You grow and learn.  They expose you to the television.  Some parents use it as a babysitter.  When I was a child it was Romper Room, Mister Rogers' Neighborhood, Sesame Street, The Electric Company, and Zoom, interspersed with Loony Toons, Pink Panther, and Tom & Jerry.  Now they get Teletubbies and Barney, I think, or has that changed? ...  The Wiggles, that's right... They're creepy. They creep me out.

Little kids are like sponges, man. They absorb everything. Even the shit you might think they don't. If Mommy is sucking somebody's dick in the house, and the kids are in the house, trust me, they know about it.

If Daddy is banging the babysitter, they know about it.

If somebody is shooting dope, they know about it.

Daddy beating the shit out of Mommy, (or vice-versa)...

Booze, drunks all thru the house, that shit they see and interact with, it all depends on the environment, which itself depends on the parents, neighbors, friends, relatives, neighborhood, etc.

Middle class kids growing up in the burbs might only encounter that behavior on weekends, or not at all. Or, Mommy might be a meth whore. You never know.

Rich motherfuckers' kids in big fancy houses tend to be little narcissists, but they are also prone to depression, among other issues.

My parents both grew up in row houses in the city of Monessen, PA. I grew up in a brick house in Pitsburgh, a block down the hill from a main drag with stores. It wasn't a row house, it had a yard, and there was a vacant lot next door, with a big maple tree in it, that we all kinda shared, us and the immediate neighbors. It was a decent sized house, not a mansion by any imagining, but it accommodated my parents, Grandma, my two brothers, and me. I grew up in the late 60s, 70s, & 80s. (I was born in 65, I was 18 in 83. Do the math) It wasn't a bad neighborhood. If there was criminal activity, it was usually me or my brothers and our friends committing it. It wasn't the inner city ghetto, but it wasn't the burbs either. My parents both went to college, my mom went first, my dad went after he came back from the war, and they both worked office jobs downtown. She was a secretary, and he was an accountant. We weren't dirt-poor, but we were far from rich. Mom didn't work for a few years when I was a little kid, so Dad must've brought in enough, but he worked all the time, and went out after supper almost every night. He died when I was 13. Mom went back to work shortly thereafter, but she couldn't afford the taxes on the house, and had to sell it and move into an apartment in a big complex. After getting in trouble several times and going to juvey, getting kicked out of a few different schools, and running away to other states twice, I dropped out of school and got my GED, and moved out when I was 18. That's the basic outline of my environment growing up.

So.  .. You come into this world a helpless wiggling thing that must be cared for, there must be a tit for you immediately, you must be mothered, lest you perish. But from toddler on, you learn from your environment, whatever it may be. My parents didn't buy me everything I wanted, so I learned how to steal it instead. My uncle gave me beer when I was eight, and I liked it. My Grandma gave me coffee, and then her Valium, when I was five, and I liked that too. I don't blame them. I loved them both.

The school said I had an extremely high IQ in the 4th grade. They didn't realize that I had an aptitude for theft and vandalism. They soon found out that I had a bad attitude towards "authority" and was stubborn and headstrong and reckless and bored. Basically, I was a mean little fuck that liked to break into cars and steal things and break things. With a MENSA-level IQ...
 Couple that with the reputation of two older brothers preceding me, and by the time I got to 6th grade they went, "Here's another one. Watch him." ...  Shit got blamed on me that I had nothing to do with. But, to balance it out, I did a lot of shit that I didn't get busted for.

So what's the explanation? Am I a product of my environment? Or am I just a bad human being?
My daughter would tell you that I'm a good human being. My friends would say the same. I work. I pay bills. I wash my ass. I don't drink alcohol, or shoot dope, or smoke crack or meth, or snort anything, or pop pills anymore. I smoke weed. It's all I need. It's my antidepressant and my anger-manage-mints. It keeps me from wanting to shoot heroin.

I haven't stolen anything in a minute either. I eat meat, but I love aminals. Humans are aminals, though most refuse to acknowledge it. I hate rules and regulations, I feel like it's my mission to be the thorn in "authority's" side. I'm like Don Qixote, but the windmills I tilt at are the pillars of society. I would see the international banking cartel toppled and trampled underfoot. I would see the ground stained with the blood of the illuminati. I would see the rise of the common man, true democracy, one individual=one vote, with a 2/3 majority needed to ratify all important decisions. No politics or politicians needed. Every decision is weighed by an informed public. I would see the end of the idea of any form of racial or religious superiority. I would see the end of the American class system, wherein the suits view themselves as somehow superior to those of us who actually work for a living. I would see it abolished for good. Nobody's better than anybody else. We're all fuckin human.

Does Anybody Want To Know This? 0.0

Filed under the "Does Anybody Want To Know This?" category:

  I just dropped a 14" X 2" monstrosity of a deuce.

The one end of it was sticking up out of the water, stinking.

        Dog jenkem.

I thought it was going to take two or three cups of hot water added to the flush to force it down the pipe, but it slid right down on the first cup. Must've been really greasy. That would explain how it was able to poop right out of my asshole all at once like that. I shoulda took a picture. 

     But anyway...
                       the bathroom stunk,
                                            Like shit and
                                                         ass funk.

Facepalming yet?

I left the fan running...

                   

Cat Viscosity Theory

Ever seen a melting cat?  I don't mean when you're tripping, either. I mean a melting cat.
                     I mean like this:

Cats are viscous.  The way they move.  Like they're made of a non-newtonian fluid.  Example:

Slow motion cat...

 

See What I'm Talking about?

Liquid cat.

See, one could theorize that cats are in a semi-flux between a solid and a liquid.  There's a cat melted on top of the cable box right now. But the webcam's not connected. Sorry, no pic.

But cats melt into/onto things. Ever had a cat melt into your lap? And you absentmindedly pet him with one hand while you mouse with the other hand. And you forget he's there. And then he gets up...

And you go "Aaaaagh!"  "Fuck!" ..."Why?!"

Ever had that happen?

"Of course," you say, "Hasn't everybody?" 

...No?
Never happened? Ever?
Well what a sad sorry existence you must be having. I pity you.
  And people say sarcasm doesn't translate well on the internet.

       I have three packs of smokes open at the same time. It makes perfect sense, because I'm trying not to smoke as much.  o_O
  There's a pack of Winstons, a pack of Pall Malls, and a pack of Kamel Reds. When I smoke one, I smoke it out of the top pack, then I rotate that pack to the bottom. That way I think about how many I smoke.
Sometimes I butt it out halfway and light it back up later. Some people would call this crass. Those people didn't grow up in my neighborhood. They probably wouldn't run into me at work either, unless I was installing a new desk or cabinets in their office.

 Neighbor with a flat shovel scraping up a pile of dogshit from off the street in front of his house. That's what I see out my window. Beats what I used to see out my window a few places ago, nine, maybe ten years back, I'd reckon. Crack dealers on the corner... Used dopeworx in the gutter by the curb... You can probably still find that shit there. And the same old assholes on the same old bar stools, talking about the same old shit.

 Miles away from anywhere... Lost in thought, with a thousand yard stare... I'm the long-haired dude in the corner, under the television. I'm minding my business, drinking my shots and beers. But I'm about fixing to be a loudmouth fuck in a minute, because some jagoff just said something ignorant about my favorite band.  ...Don't miss it.

          Nobody's reading this fuckin blog anyways.
                                      Right?

Shishka Bob, Soap soup, and Allen Dulles

Good morning,

Motherfuckers.

Last night at 2:30 am in the morning

I stopped at McDeath on my way home.

The drive-thru speaker wasn't working.

I had to pull up and knock on the window.

Two fillets of fish later,

I'm sitting in the parking lot,

eating my breaded fish squares,

and I look across the way,

and there's this place called Flame Kabob.

And I thunk about shishkabobs.

Not the kind you get in a fancy Greek restaurant.

Those are shsh kababs.

I'm talking about what people call city chicken.

Little cubes of pork,

breaded with shake-n-bake,

skewered on a stick.

When I was a kid

that's what we called shsishabobs.

I wouldn't pick them as a first choice

or a second choice.

For me they conjure up vivid mental images

of dry, overdone meat

with nasty breading on it,

and Grandma (God bless her, may she rest in peace)

washing the little wood sticks

to use over (& over) again.

['scuse me while I puke up my coffee.]

When your coffee tastes like pencil shavings

It might be indicative

of the fact

that

It sat in the pot all night

until you heated it up

at the crack of dawn.

Once upon a moment

I had a button that said

"I'm so horny, the crack of Dawn isn't safe."

I gave it to a girl named Dawn.

Imagine that.

Who'd've thunk?

So anyways...

I'm sitting there

in Chantilly Virginia

over near Dulles Airport

looking at a sign that said Flame Kabob,

and I thought

"Who the fuck is Shishka Bob?

Maybe he was Allen Dulles

incognito.

Allen Dulles,

the man JFK fired,

who was later appointed to lead the Warren Commission.

Hmmm...

No conflict of interest there, buddies...

Just like so many things about government

It's soap soup.

They sell it to you as a nutritious bowl of slop,

but it's really made out of soap,

and it tastes accordingly.

Not quite as disgusting as "Woofies."

Never heard of woofies?

They're chocolate-covered dog turds.

Looks like chocolate on the outside,

but bite into one and you find out it ain't

what you thought it was.

Just like everything the government says or does.

So how much stolen tax money does Uncle Sam

spend per anum

on turd polish?

They scrub that motherfucker,

buff it to a high gloss,

package it up real pretty,

false advertize the fuckin hell out of it,

and sell it to you at a premium.

And motherfuckers just gobble it up.

...Like it was Mayor McCheese.

What a fuckin life.

"I Don't Know..."

Who is the idiot that first said I don't know isn't an answer?  If you don't know the answer to the question, then it's the only honest answer. Ask a roomful of people how the electricity gets from one end of the wire to the other. Unless you're in a whole room full of electricians, the obvious answer, from everybody in the room, should be "I don't know."  But it won't be. Instead, you'll get a lot of people giving their uneducated opinion of how they think it works. "The electrons jump from atom to atom..." (Ok then, smartass, why is copper a better conductor than steel?) The truth is, unless you've read a detailed explanation, and comprehended it, or had it explained to you in a manner you can understand, then you have no fuckin idea! The correct answer would be, "I don't know."

A girl asked me a question one time, I don't remember what it was, but we were in the middle of an argument, so it was likely an argumentative question, but anyway, I answered her, "I don't know." To which she replied, "I don't know isn't an answer!" ... ... Well, yes... It damn well certainly is. Not only that, but it's the only correct answer, because I don't fuckin know. What part of I don't know don't you understand? I don't know means I don't know. (Women just love it when you throw their own logic back at them.)  o_O  She continued to insist that I actually knew the answer that she wanted to hear, whatever that might've been, and that I was fucking with her. Right about then I just tuned her out, so the rest of her end of the argument might as well have been, "Blah. Blah blah blah, blah blah..."

Whatever. She was probably trying to blame me for all her problems, not wanting to admit that she was wrong, that whatever it was was her own fault, et cetera, since nobody wants to admit that they were wrong in the heat of a verbal battle. She's human. She was young. She probably thought she knows everything about everything, and is infallible. That, and she was high at the time.

So what's the fuckin point, you might ask?

                                                                         ...Wait for it...

I don't know!

But the whole insisting that I don't know isn't an answer sounds suspiciously like something somebody's mother said to them when they were a kid, and it stuck with them. It makes about as much sense as other 'Mommyisms' such as, "Do as I say, not as I do." or "Because I said so." So how does a nonsense statement like this continue to survive? A quick google search will give you links to numerous pages concerning this topic. Three of those are from Reddit, (Why is "I don't know." not an answer) The Muse, (What leaders say when they don't know the answer, What to say instead of I don't know) and Forbes magazine (Five alternatives to saying I don't know.) People must really hate to admit they don't know something. I mean, nobody wants to look stupid, right? But for it to become so pervasive it must've been some societally "respectable" douchebag, like a judge or a politician or some other suit that said it. Forbes is a magazine for suits, isn't it? Most suits tend to be windbags who think they are experts on everything; They got a degree, (Which only means that they sat in a stuffy classroom being bored to death and daydreaming out the window for a few years longer than you did,) they wear ties and sit behind desks pushing paper, and can't you just tell how important they are by the car they drive and the cut of their suit?! {These are the douchebags that cut you off in traffic in their Lexuses and BMWs.} How the fuck can someone go to four years of college, get a piece of paper for it, and still be a clueless moron?

I don't know.

If you don't know how to change a tire or a spark plug or your own oil, if you don't know the difference between you're & your, there, they're, & their, where, wear, & were, etc. If you don't comprehend that you are human, that you are not magically better than others just because your parents are rich, or your skin is a different shade of human than theirs, or your brand of religion is different than theirs, you shouldn't even graduate high school, let alone college.

But, this is America in 2016. Welcome to idiocracy gone wild.

And who gives a fuck what "leaders" say? They mostly talk out the side of their faces anyway. Whether it be politics as usual, legalese, banker babble, scientific jargon, etc. They all speak their own language exclusive to their profession, and they tend to look down their noses at everybody they don't consider to be their peers. (Which is precisely why I look down my nose at them, they've earned my contempt by their actions.)  Granted, every trade has its own particular set of skills, and its own lingo, but one trade is not any better or worse than any other, though some folks are better or worse at one particular thing. Why does the janitor get paid the least when he or she does the nastiest job? Why do executives get paid the most when they do the least work? That's ass backwards. I have the skills to build an entire house from the ground up, dig the hole, pour the footer, lay the foundation, frame it, wire it, plumb it, drywall it, paint it, install windows and doors, brick up the outside, and put a roof on it. So why does some suit who drives a desk for a living and never does any actual work get paid more than me? Can anyone explain that satisfactorily? I didn't think so. Paying suits more only serves to artificially inflate their egos so that they erroneously believe that they are more important than those of us who actually work for a living. Placing them in positions of so-called "authority" over others only serves to give them delusions of grandeur.
News flash - they take stinky shits just like everyone else. 
They can find themselves drunk and wallowing in a shit-filled ditch just as easily as you or I can. And one day their corporeal bodies will die and rot. 
In short, they're human, no better, no worse, but equal.

See, I learned early on to question "authority." I could see right thru their bullshit. They aren't gods. They're mortal, fallible, and imperfect humans, just like you and me. They have no actual authority over anyone. When I was a kid they tried to force me to obey, they tried to make me fit into their conformist mold, so I resolved to push back with equal or greater force, or in the event of an inability to push back for whatever reason, to get even. I spent my formative years mostly getting even in whatever way I could. Vandalism, theft, and whatever means of rebellion I could muster. Why? Mostly because my dad was one of those obedient tax-slaves who does what he's told without question, and then takes his resentments over it home with him and abuses his family. He was one of those assholes who says, "You do as I say, because I say so." (And my immediate response to that attitude is, "Fuck you. I'm gonna do the exact opposite just to spite you and prove you wrong, and flip you the finger while doing it, because I can, because fuck you.")

In order for one to have any hope of attaining wisdom and understanding, one must question everything.  Question existence, question religion, and especially, question what right any individual or group thereof thinks they have to give orders, to oppress others, to impose their will and their opinions upon any other individual or group thereof. [Spoiler Alert: They don't.]

Picture being in a courtroom, on the stand, and the persecutor (Yes, I meant persecutor rather than prosecutor, because it is a more accurate term.) asks you a question you don't know the answer to. What do you say? "I don't know." And if the pudgy judgy tells you to answer the question or be held in contempt, you inform him that you already answered the question correctly and honestly, and if he doesn't like it then he can lump it, and you find him utterly contemptible as well. Might be a nice touch as they're dragging you off to jail for refusing to be intimidated if you tell him to go take a flying fuck at a rolling doughnut, and then spit in his general direction.

Therein lies the underlying issue at hand here: Intimidation. I refuse to be intimidated. I'm a dissident. I'm an anarchist. I refuse to recognize any so-called "authority."  They can abuse me, imprison me, even kill me, but they can't make me obey. They can't take my pride and dignity from me. I'll spit in their faces with my dying breath, if necessary. And that's not to say that I have no humility, I do. I realize that I'm human, same as everyone else, and therefore equal. I would run into a burning building to save an innocent child, with no regard for my own safety. Not to try to be a hero, but because it's the right thing to do. I'll make sure that the innocent around me have all eaten before I feed my own face. If everyone felt this way, we'd all be better individuals.

I can't say whether or not I would fall on a grenade to save my enemy, because that situation hasn't happened yet, and it probably won't, therefore.... I Don't Know.

Pee pot smasher / Tooth gnasher

Pee pot smasher

Tooth gnasher

Grab a chunk and run past her

Two lame mules

Empty of promise

Run for cover

Terrible tunnles

Steel teeth of death

Bone crushing motion

No rabbit left to witness

The tall grass prairie

Mower

All alone

Toothless Puma

Two bits

Won't buy

A cup of dinner

But it's nice

To be loved

The ocean is grey

The ocean is grey

All fall down and

Break the monotony

Two bells tolled

Shattered windows

Pieces of what seems

Bag of smithereens

All the way to  Houston

For a sack

Of golden dreams

Chocolate covered

Coffee beans

Where Did My Fuckin Videos Go?!

I took four or five videos with my phone.  I plugged the phone into my computer, running windows 8. I proceeded to make a new folder, name it, and cut/paste the videos from the phone to the new folder.  I go to look for the folder, and it's gone.

What the fuck?!

Coffee... Mmmm, coffee... (And other profound insights...)

I haven't blogged in quite awhile.  I haven't barfed in quite awhile either, but that's another story.  Mmm, I dig coffee.  This morning it's a mixture of Starbux Sumatra ground on top of some Maxwell House Master Blend. (There's a free plug for you Maxwell House, can I have some free coffe?)  ...This morning it's 2:12 in the afternoon, because I work nights right now, so this is my morning.  But I digress. 

Anyways, I was reading about Frank Lloyd Wright's Broadacre City, his dream project, which never came to fruition.  If it had, it would've been his magnum opus, his crowning achievement.  It also would've turned much of the north American continent into what basically amounts to urban and suburban sprawl.  Of course, that very thing has been happening at an alarming rate anyway, since at least 1980, and probably a lot longer.  I loathe sprawl.  A lot of beautiful natural woods has been destroyed to accommodate preplanned yuppy suburbia and strip malls.  Access to some of the best fishing holes has been usurped in favor of bicycle trails.  To me, this underlines and illustrates the artificial plastic disposable nature of modern western society.  Just destroy the natural and yuppify everything into one gigantic golf course.  Wright's ideal wouldn't have been any better.

I have admired Fallingwater since I first saw it, the way it tries to blend in with the surrounding land, rather than intrude upon it, but it does intrude, however subtly.  I'm beginning to view Wright more like Gary Cooper's character from Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead.  I'm no architect, but if given the chance, I would design society to exist in harmony with the natural world.  There needs to be open spaces.  There should be access for the wildlife to get from one side of the highway to the other, without becoming road-pizza.  Remember, the deer and other critters aren't in your backyard, you're in theirs.  They were here first.  Couldn't roads be built with tunnels underneath for the critters, and fences along the edges to keep them off?  Couldn't cities and communities be designed to do minimal damage to the environment?  I think they could.  I think man is haughty and self-important, attempting to corral and control nature rather than trying to coexist with it, or to exist within it.  Critters don't belong in zoos, they are free beings, who deserve freedom to range.  If humankind can't peacefully exist within nature, then maybe it is we who belong in zoos.

I believe that we were charged with a solemn duty to be the caretakers of this planet, and that we have thus far failed miserably at it.  We are not meant to exploit and abuse, these ideas are not natural, they seem very foreign to me.  Some outside influence has fucked with our thinking.  I'm not suggesting any cockamamey L Ron Hubbard nonsense, but just think about it for a minute.  Detach yourselves from your iPhones and your televisions, put down the xbox controller, and meditate.  Think about The Matrix, think about the Mandela effect, think about CERN, think about Brave New World...  During the Pleistocene Epoch, humanity existed within nature.  Then something changed.  After the glaciers receded, people in the old world began to view themselves as somehow above nature, rather than as a part of it.  People here on Turtle Island continued to live in harmony with nature for the most part.  Of course, we don't know the whole story, because it has been intentionally erased, the truth hidden from us by someone, for whatever reason(s).  Consider HG Wells' The Time Machine.  The Eloi lived above ground, they were largely innocent, while the sinister and diabolical Morlock lived in subterranean tunnels.  The Morlock came out at night to prey on the Eloi, much as humans prey on cows.  Now, consider David Paulides Missing 411.  What, pray tell, is preying on humans?  What if the Morlock found a way to shapeshift and make themselves resemble the Eloi, or even to interbreed with them while retaining their predatory nature, and to construct a (global?) society based upon hierarchy, wherein they would be the elite, whilst keeping the livestock stupid and docile and easily manipulated...  (Starting to resemble anything?  Making y'all think, at least, ain't it) 

I don't know, man.  I'm still trying to figure it all out.  Writing it helps me to contemplate, and if anyone reads this blog, maybe they will contemplate things as well.  Meditation and contemplation beat the fuckin dogpiss out of playing videogames, or watching mindless drivel on the idiot-box, or drinking whiskey, or shooting dope, or smoking crack or meth, or munching handfuls of Xanax... Well, for me they do.  Y'all make up your own minds.