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duh - zombies

ALWAYS

Posted on 2017.10.31 at 21:41
Humeur actuelle: importuned
Musique actuelle: Scary Monsters - David Bowie
Tags: ,



I haven't harped about Asian Carp in a while, but here's a little something, since it's Halloween.  (If you don't know about the Asian Carp rpblem in Midwestern rivers, destined to destroy the Great Lakes, then learn about it and/or axe me for more info).  You can get great PDF handouts, like the one above, HERE.  If you do hand these out, you do risk being indicted for conspiracy against the state, since Asian carp come from communist China.  You may also join my broad-ranging community called, asian_carp.  You may also resort to appropriate tags if you are in a crisis situation about the whole thing.

My computer is again self-destructing and this session will not be long for this world.

Thinking a turn had finally come, I went off my fast.  I thought it was the right thing to do.  I have been imagining great foods to finally eat - and yet my fast didn't make me all that hungry, realleh.  A plan has been to have a bus take me from the book sale, on thursday, straight to Subway, where I will order two foot-longs for $6.  nevermind that any tiny amount of GLUTEN is a killer unto me.  I don't know how I was reconciling this with the plan to buy GF beer to drink with it.  Anyway, when I see a deal, I get silly.

I might buy two GF pizza crusts, and make one an egg pizza.  My idea of an egg pizza is to lay down sauce, some mushrooms, etc., cover in raw eggs, top with some cheese, but not too much, we wouldn't want to die TOO quickly!  Does anybody have suggestion about this, like what else I whould throw in.  Dog cookies, for example?

It's terrible for me to even think about eating.  Why?  Because my CFS DEMENTIA/imbalance problem continues to be really bad - worse than it's ever been.  I guess that is to be expected, if one takes the view that this illness is supposed to eventually kill me.  Be that as it may, I forced myself to go out today.  I walked wobbly down the street.  It's horrible.

So, the day was like this...  Decided to confront Halloween come hell or high water.  Cleaned the front stairs, which are carpetted.  And I did the most thorough ever, both sweeping and vacuuming.  Then I did a little wash/waxing of the bottom landing's wood.  This had to be done sooner than later, so the best thing to do is to leave it until Halloween.

I pump up my dog, telling him that the trick-or-treaters are coming!  There was a time that we revelled in trick-or-treaters.  Here, there are virtually none.

While I was taking a bath, the new dog next door started barking, and my dog started getting excited, wanting to yowl, and all that.  Since he is naturally the Alpha Male of anywhere, you can imagine the anxiety that this sort of thing causes him, as he is cooped up all day inside.  Sucks.  But, I'm in the bath, trying to shave.  I had been thinking of keeping my moustache growing, but because I was distracted by my dog, I started shaving it off by accident.  This sort of thing happens all the time here.  My CFS is to blame.

But so is my dog!  See, some situations are to be addressed.  There are reasons to, e.g., let some situs slide, and there are reasons to overreact to other situ's.  However, my DOG, being an animal, believes that we should ALWAYS react to anything like this.  Can you imagine spending your life like that?  That's the difference between humans and most other mammals.  We try to rise above Pavlovianism, despite what you might sense from the government.

You see, if we know that, say, half the emergencies need no immediate attention, we can lie in the bath and make our faces look more civilised.  We have time for lots of other things, like cooking meat or inventing steam-shovels.  You see, in the jungle, where it is constant act-and-react, back-and-forth all day long, there is no time or space left for safety, luxury, imagination or progress, right?

But, that is not to say that there are not more base animals amongst us, who INSIST upon thinking and acting in blacks and whites.  And these people are?  You guessed it.  Fundamentalists.  The irony is that everyone conspires to assume that more-religious people are less like animals when, in my experience, the opposite has always been true.  That I think that it is probable that religion goes way - and I mean WAY - back.  My dog looks back upon me, and thinks, "All he thinks is important is shaving!" or whatever.  And who's to say that he does not decide this with religious - deeply spiritual - conviction?

Always this - Always that.  Never that - Never this.  This is the stop-gap upon evolution.  Only the illusion of free will, which is a kind of a surplus, narcissistic perk or quirk, away from jerks and work, can pull us out of this trap of perennial stagnation, where neocortexes are nowhere near the size God wanted them to be, yes?  Only free will gets us out of the Always curse.  So: Sometimes.  Maybe.  Possibly.  Probability.  Statistics.  Math.  Imagination.  Free market.  Choice.  The privacy, integrity and rights of Self.  For tomorrow we die.

The ironic thing, here, is that we often rely on religion to defend these ethereal rights, no?

I guess I will contrast this with a little thought I had today opr yesterday.  I, myself, have been torn assunder by life.  I see all the waste of time and energy going on, in hate, in stupidity, in lies, and so on.  Who needs it?  I, myself, have NO MORE ENERGY left to play games, which I never liked to begin with.  I don't have energy to work on building relationships.  I don't have time to explain my health needs over and over and over again, only to see people blithely forgetting them, like my dog shooting off when he sees a squirrel.  I seldom have energy to get out of bed.  When I can, I make an art of making the most economical choices and actions that I can.  That means I have to have a bigger picture for my plans.

My brain gets so wracked that I cannot think things through.  I cannot always come up with a big picture.  I seek it constantly.

Jerks on the street want to jostle with me, throwing about all sorts of stupid blames and games and this and that.  And, all I know is this:

I have one last bit of energy for this: I only have the energy for one thing, left, in my life:

I have the truth.

So, in the back-and-forth jungle world of always animal, always animal. I am usually set free, by knowing the truth.  All I have to do is refer back to it, and the scathing epigrams or magical solution flow.  This is the part of myself I have been clinging to preserve all this time.  Always.  And the truth shall set you free.  Everything alse around me, in my life, is a tomb of concrete.  But, here, there dances the same flame that shone as a baby, and exclaimed, "Isn't life wonderful?"

Nevermind that my own siblings have sought to steal my very epigrams from my mouth, and my memories from reality.  I am always at one with the truth.  I left the bastard world a long, long time ago.  Unfortunate that so many feel they must be slaves to it.  To the scary monster animals in our hearts.  To the jaws of money, envy and the state.  To the bullets of war, which could just as well have been shot from the beginning of evolution itself.  I see no difference between then and now.

Isn't it ironic, that the song on the radio now is, "Zombie," by the Cranberries, which I was listening to on my own just a day or two ago.  See the relevant lyrics now.

"It's the same old thing since 1916, In your head in your head, They're still fighting..."

So..........  I KNEW that I was too ill to do anything Halloweenie today.  I even knew that time was running so late, I probably wouldn't be able to see my Tuesday movie. So, I forced myself out at around 5:pm, walked to library, got more DVDs, tried ATM but there was not yet $100 to withdraw, ruining a plan, walked back. Talked to some men I knew coming from a pantry. They told me to go to the pantry, which I did around 6:pm - it was closed but there was a big bag of veggies, so I guess I need to keep eating. Got home, set things up, including chocolate bars, made popcorn, bagged it, waited.

ZERO TRICK-OR-TREATERS.

Which is the worst kind of monsters there are, pardon my bad English.

Which means I get to eat or give away the popcorn; and I get to boil and ferment the chocolate for my coffees. I make use of everything. I knit an Afghan from my Afghan. No, seriously:

Do you know that I have FIVE wonderful big bed comforters?! I did this just in case power every completely goes out. Plus I have three "beds." One of the comforters is being used as a sound/light-blocker over two windows. I also have two giant heavy bed covers, one which is for babies, and one which has wonderful rustic Japanese and prairie-type decorations all over it. I am a luck irish man. I also have countless microfiber, etc., throws, one of which was made by Ashley's mother for me. It is double sheeted, with tied together in the "Indian" fashion. It has a matching pillow. Sometimes I feel sorrier for Ashley's mother than for Ashley, after the split. What a nice thing she did. She really liked me, I guess. So sad.

Anyway - I had no idea this post would be so long. I am typing like gangbusters so thumbs up. There has been a project I have been wanting to do for two months, but always thwarted, or etc. Well, the deadline is midnight tonight, and I am going to see if I can scramble to get something in, despite this impossible computer. So, sorry I cannot stick around now. But:

Happy Halloween!

Comments:


meowmensteen
meowmensteen at 2017-11-01 03:51 (UTC) (Lien)
I heard that song on the radio today too. I guess it's kind of related to halloween, though I never thought of it like that. I had that album in 8th grade. Brings back very particular memories. Kind of sad.

Having more comforters is never a bad thing. I spent the last weekend washing all of mine (stupid cat!), but now they're all soft and clean. They smell like fresh laundry.
where hypotheses come to die
madman101 at 2017-11-04 09:51 (UTC) (Lien)
-After I die of a heart attack, when they cut open my heart they will find Cranberries.

I never liked the title of that song but the song is sad/great.

I am comforted by my comforters, having come up from homelessness. My brown rustic man comforter smelled so intensely like fresh laundry - I shall never be able to duplicate that...

I will mention my blue/white comforter in an upcoming post called, "My Serendipity". If you read it early you may receive a signed copy.
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