• send well concealed cash or checks to Tyler Tavy Kelm Mertes, 335 Water St, Iola, WI 54945.  i’ll be here ‘til x-miss ’11.
• feel free to specify campaign contribution, co-op donation, or gift.
• survival/appearance/toys/foods/drugs/fuel. pick one. or more.  do however. if no intent is attached, any use is deemed acceptable. our systems can handle your opinions.
• send an e-mail offering old computers, help with auto repairs/rv customization, usable rv parts, usable ’83 Toyota pick-up parts, bike parts, and shop space to do all of this.
• show up.  ok, yeah, probably e-mail first telling me when you’ll arrive, how long you plan to stay, and whether you are there to help me eat or help me work.  if you want to try to convince me of something, not only can you not show up at all, you can die a long slow painful death.  put your criticisms in writing.  if you are an assistant to an artist, happiness is production.  art is god.  you can always go to your room and close the door.  i will not pursue.
• other help i could put to use:
• computer disassembly/reassembly/programming
• swift/delicate rv disassembly skills/tools
• car/truck/heavy-equipment skills/shop/parts-finding
• on-site design consultation for custom solar water system
• aluminum can processing: these layered strips will eventually be my home.  i have a bunch, but bring your un-crushed cans, yeah.
• electric/computer system design/construction
• final designs include dual flywheels (shell-top wind-driven, and truck-frame), and full-frame capacitor power storage.  the whole thing will be a LED battery.  she glows.
• full monitoring and computer-aided/scriptable control of wind generation/solar/power use
• truck and cab-mounted computers will pre-heat fluids recovered by generation systems.
• converting a kerosene heater to a woodgas generator/rocket stove, and integrating this heat-generator into the btu-handling infrastructure of the rig.
• materials science: lightweight clear solar roof? high-heat-resist weldable black plastic sheeting? insulating foam? aluminum-sealing epoxies? price matters.  we’ll use soda bottles, then.
• plumbing skills.  i’ll be doing custom sinks, and filtering/recycling water.  this will integrated with the heating/cooling systems.
• heating/refrigeration skills. the original lp heater/refrigerator will be reconfigured into multi-fuel computer controlled heating systems, and the cold chamber re-oriented lower, self-leveling (gimble) and with a horizontal lid. the same system will cool the cab.  yes, i will have LP A/C.
• fundraising.  clearly, i suck at this.  yeah, well, find me a boss who has half a clue and can put my diverse talents to use, and who isn’t an obnoxious dick as a fall-back.

this is my campaign for president.  it’s an off-the-grid mobile permaculture home construction company/consultancy/cooperative.  if someone wants to buy the prototype, that may happen.  we’ll see whether i have a place to take it.  i figure, once its free, i may not ever have to stop.  cool.

but, just so we’re clear, legally speaking, this is a personal project with personal property.  i am investing in my home here.  if you get disagreeable, i will ask you to leave.  if you do not leave, i will make such an obnoxious racket in protection of my personal safety, you will either have to give me a little breathing room or suffer permanent aural, mental, and emotional damage to every last person in the room.  you have your little anthill.  mine has wheels.  you maintain dictatorial control about what i may speak about there, so my right to do that same thing upon property which i control is a condition of your being here.  i have spent my entire life alone.  what’s another twenty minutes?

contrary to popular opinion, clicking “like” doesn’t actually help.  we thought this was going to start with dictator asking for help finding a job.  perhaps bandmates.  dude, no, that’s bullshit!  clicking “like” totally helps!  how can it not?  even things that are joking or artistic or that have “no legitimacy” can be liked, can’t they?  do all of you really dislike all that i do that much, or is it me.  if everyone i know really wishes that i should die, i’m calling you out now.  send me an e-mail or a message saying “die” and i will cut off communications, block or whatever.  i’m trying to survive here.  my own parents never liked or wanted me.  whatever the fuck.  slave to the ‘rents.

i like my friends’ painting businesses.  i like their pseudo-porn accounts.  i like their news streams.  i read their blogs.

bah, whatever the fuck.  do whatever the fuck you’re gonna fucking do anyway.  sit in your warm little cell as the soothing sights and sounds of big brother wash over your poisoned little brain.  ratatatatatatatatat.  warmonger live. usa.usa. us, oh fuck it.

please hire me: http://www.linkedin.com/in/lazyasswasteoid so i can afford to do all this shit.

love,
t

p.s. current heavily rotated/playlist: Weedeater, Cage the Elephant, Das Racist

you’re so van guard, you prolly think this riot’s about you. (yes, also a rip-off from the beautifully lippy one. )

fresh cut panttalones, fa fa fresh cut panttalones.
fresh cut panttalones, fa fa fresh cut panttalones.

your anarch ism is based on its own canon

fresh cut panttalones, fa fa fresh cut panttalones.
fresh cut panttalones, fa fa fresh cut panttalones.

your soul stains, will not be healed by shouting

teach the means of coms, teach the leveled play.
without the job ones, for now, no1ze gettin’ paid anyway.

violent reactionaries against everyone else, go!

our splife while, discumshi. oh wait, that’s a different song.

ok, i’m outtie. 4:02 pm. 8:31 pm, jiggity jig.  last night in car town. (editors note: it wasn’t.  mom stuck to her guns, continues refusal to negotiate in writing/stop abusing. “she can die a slow painful death as far as i care.” –me, out loud.  stay away from me, mom)

• foyk. yoi.  Dirt – Objekt Refuse Reject Abuse
• ‽
• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Skyhook_(structure)
• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dyson_sphere
• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Megastructure
• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Space_elevator
• http://www.psychologytoday.com/collections/201111/do-you-show-the-real-you/can-trauma-or-angst-heal-in-one-session
• http://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=963142
• http://www.law.wisc.edu/profiles/pubs.php?iEmployeeID=17
• ugh. why do they have to give me a link to a hi-res photo?  no, i’m not saving to my hard drive.  i’ve considered other vp candidates, but she’s still dictator’s favorite.  yes, i’m stiiillll walking at prezdedent.
• to do
• RV
• clean rv.
• remove air conditioner
• make cap/plug
• scrub w/cleaner
• vacuum
• disassemble?
• pull interior out of (dismantle) RV
• remove/wash cushions. store in plastic.?
• new faucet?
• yes, but as a part of a full kitchen redesign.  ok.
• Campaign
• send open invitation to fb
• ?? get help.
• Tactile Geometrics
• design pipes
• build pipes
• get pipes to painter
• set up space for painter here
• coop.  here.
• easy

there we go, Wikipedia.  putting random scowly dude in my face makes me hiss violently at the screen.  a cute smiling woman?  i smile.  fuck your cookies.

i ain’t restarted in a while, so i’m gonna do that.  later 11:04 pm

put this http://youtu.be/t1_E6zahpd8 in dance when uToob start worky ‘gain. tay.

seriously, asshead.  the lights are still on in the shop.  fuck.  right.  no, but how are we going to make the solar pod.  make?  we have no glass?  use plastic.  oh, right.

does it have to be rigid?  how are you going to hold it down?  how is it going to shed water?  clear corrugated roofing would work.  that won’t insulate at all.  two layers will leave an airspace that will provide some insulation.  hey, or we run across some insulated glass.

i don’t have to put up with your hate http://youtu.be/sfhkXxmnYHc cindy

thanks for asking around to your friends to see if they have a spare room.  oh, that’s right, you still think i’m what?  not admittable.

if i’m paying rent, i will need an address, and you will have to adhere to landlord/tenant law.  if i’m not, and you’re maintaining full dictatorial control of the property, then i’m not paying a dime.  i will pay for the increased energy usage (my electricity), but then i will set up an off-the-grid system so that not only will i not be paying you for my use, but i will get it grid tied so that you will eventually end up paying me.

♃♄♆

i ain’t been writing in a while, huh.  dictator puts writing on hold when we get that out of balance.

• http://www.prwatch.org/news/2011/10/11040/wisconsin-judge-rules-against-food-rights
• http://www.miscellanynews.com/2.1577/in-defense-of-raw-milk-big-business-not-ideal-1.2681255#.TuD7rWjNltN

a book: the meanest true shit i ever wrote. by LazyAssWasteoid

it is all right here.  i may not edit it down at all.  maybe.  the alternate title will be abusive phrases for fun and profit.  no?  read selections at your next holiday gathering.  it’ll be a hoot!  maybe we just call it hoot.  go sort some wrenches.  good call.  1:00 pm. Thursday, December 08, 2011

https://indianinthemachine.wordpress.com/2010/12/09/the-truth-about-hair-and-why-nativeindians-would-keep-their-hair-lon/

awesome sauce.  last night, at the whiskey pig/poney/wrath of the girth show, i got there, grabbed a beer, got annoyed with the jukebox, then silence, then plugged the jukebox.  then, just as tick (yeah yeah yeahs) came on, j & j (drum and bass of good grief fayme) showed up, and that’s when i noticed that this was another of them nights of being surrounded by hottie cuteness.  she is so completely beautiful… and mean. lol. she doesn’t know me very well, but i’m in love with her already.  i know that’s not fair.  it just is.

then, a fb acquaintance (and i know i tweeted that she was hot, but i knew that already) came up and said hello.  she stood by me, looking adorable and leaning in close to talk during the band’s set.  sexy as fuck.  yes, i would leave this show, which i drove a half-hour to see, with you or many other girls in this room.  it’s written on my fucking forehead how much of a hornball whore i am.  if you don’t see it, i will tell you.  if you’re not planning to finish off that fucking hardon you’ve started, please don’t start one to begin with.  i dislike teasing.  i don’t even really like flirting.  i dislike being turned on by unnaturally reddened lips, bare legs, and cleavage, shown publicly in places where boners are inappropriate. it is un-fair.  this is why i lock myself in whatever home i can find and satiate my insatiables with a constant stream of cuteness and sex references.  it’s beginning to not work.  actually, just like everything else i’ve tried, it doesn’t work.  you know what does work?  one willing human.  one.  i’ve only ever tried females, they’re the ones who make me hard.  it just happens.  i can’t narrow down the relevant characteristics any more, other than “hottest girl in the room.”

hey, sexy pants, i hope the constant sexual tension you create fulfills your scientifico-capitalist need to waste time, piss people off, and pit them against each other for no reason.  gives you a feeling of power, right?  like when daddy yells at people, or shakes his fist like he could punch ya.  yup.  like not returning someone else’s property isn’t a violent act.  i should talk.  i have a box of stuff i have to return to its rightful owners before i take off, here.  i have no clue in what sense i mean that.

indigenous superscientist

its methods ingrained, on its own dna.
it read the blueprints and told the whole world

none believed (according to “the news”)
none asked for more (by the “polls” o’ the “’zines”)
none [that kid retweets good. not part of the song, just an observation] looked it in the eye
so it figured itself a whore

healer shaman medicine man.
experimental meatbot testing stay shunned
go live in the van.

the more it shared, the more truth it told
the more they mocked, shunned, scold
the more it sensitized itself,
crueler more vicious they got, cold

all the hidden rules
all the patterns visible only from its odd angle
all revealed

none of them had ever wanted to see.
it showed them living death.
it made them executioners.
none forgave.  none forgot.

the abused give up liberty and security when they rely on their gods

but the gods only say, “nobody plays fair, nothing is trustworthy, plants are bad so have some drugs.” and the drugs are ingested and the obedient are rewarded.  zombie slave under big brother’s watch.  they knew.  participation is endorsement.

none of them had ever wanted to feel, taste, or smell. life.

“ :\ SME restricts playback of this video in playlists. Watch this video in a standalone player.

Sorry about that.”

databases apologize too much.  i was a crazy obnoxious horny kid who everybody eventually ignored because i was faster than them.  jealous little maggots.  not all of ya, but the vast majority of humans are competitive, jealous, and mean.  you cling to your comfort zones/foods/thoughts like a pair of vise-grips.  locked.  now, i have tried using 2x4s, hammers, torches, and nothing works.  what will it take for you to see me as an acceptable human?  honestly, this is your fascism.  this whiny, “i don’t know what to say,” giggle, giggle, “but at least we can gorge on sugar and fats and high fructose corn syrup while we gather in our stuffed-with-propaganda nests” and reconfigure the most cruel mind-punishment into whatever small-minded and condescending drivel we can force everyone to sit and take because of “the true meaning of the day.”  what is the true meaning of every other fucking day?  are you justifying your constant violent ignorance while using it to keep anyone from upsetting your precious little life-pattern.  yup, hopefully, you can be a bitter old fuck, force-feeding the gluttonous materialism of your tv-poisoned inner-child to the next two or three generations!  if you have land, and you don’t raise your own fucking turkeys and pigs and chickens on it, you are not only a lazy, retarded, money-grubbing landlord asshole, you’re a short-sighted, resource-wasting, space-enslaving dickhead who shouldn’t even be allowed to purchase from the gas/auto subsidized store that gmo-fed factory “meat” and its many chemical flavor enhancers.  oh whatever the fuck, that’s exactly what you should be eating.  may you die as quickly as you like, you gluttonous impediment to humanity.

why am i feeling so vicious?  you have a connect, you fucking retard.  you have that two hundred fifty some in the bank, a full tank of gas in the rv, and most of the tools, clothes, and fooding equipment that a long-term vacation would require.  so they were never your friends.  so what.  so your own family talks about you rather than to you.  who cares?  if you can keep your head about you for another few weeks, you’ll probably be able to hire them all, buy them out, or become their “independent contractor” rendering services far and wide.

did you not read that song i just wrote?  nobody listens to anything i say.  first, stop typing that.  second, you’re not saying it, you’re typing it.  big distinction, which you should recognize and remind those to whom you have actually spoken in real life.  it’s not like any of them will stand by anything that they say they would do, anyway.  why are we all lazy drunks, is my question.  why can we not have balanced, respectful, and fulfilling sex lives and spiritual advancement?  we can.  some of us do.  the offer is open.  with internet, we are reachable from the road.

it’s 2:17 pm, and i’m still in pajama pants.  i haven’t put my watch on yet.  it’s cold and lonely here.  i don’t know what to say to anyone, and none of the people i speak to will acknowledge my writing.  none of the people who acknowledge my writing will speak to me.  nobody considers any of the noises i make worthy of money, let alone compliments.

so, i’m an awful person, a crappy worker, a shitty musician, a horrible photographer, and an unreadable writer.  where does this leave me?  you keep re-gaining twitter followers, without even trying.  kids that rt shitty little sexist bullshit, rants about tv and pop memes have more followers than i do.  yeah, but the demographic.  your shit is like the whirlpool of aging angst.  why ya gotta be such a fucking hipster?  i don’t gotta be nothing yo.  i am me.  that is all i have ever been, it is all i have ever known, and i don’t know what the fuck else to tell you.

ok then. good day,
t

fine, you want a suggestion?  collect all the information you can regarding cooperatively owned and managed businesses.  make a presentation to the greenhouse people with the stated intent of getting them to open the books and join the coalition of god willing.  if you don’t have cooperative ownership and management, you’re all spinning your wheels.  you have to do that first.  your foundation, all of you, is for shit.  you scream against legal fictions without understanding that the way you will “defeat” them (if you still think in those shallow terms) will be to become one of them.  against paper, rock loses.  scissors’ cooperating blades re-pulp fictions, but so does fire.  i will take my contract flambé, thank you.

you must imagine every human interaction, and script it.  positively, efficiently.  once the whole thing is complete in your head, you backwards engineer it.  it must have redundancy, which in human terms will translate to greater understanding of human beings, human nature, and one another.

i say a lot of things.  word density.  there are multiple patterns of layers.  stripes and plaids play off and against each other.  stars rotate around my dopey little head.  baby ninjas are destroying me.  i am lovin’ every minute.

i kissed our friend on the neck when she crawled in bed with me this morning.  she don’t belong to nothing but the universe.  thank god.  i’m madly in love with you, i said, earlier.  i was.  i am.  when those of us whose nature is furthest from the machine’s repressed ideals are completely free, past conceptions of happiness, joy, and fulfillment will seem pale and quaint if we compared them to our present joy.

she asked me whether, when i told her i was horny, if i was.  i said, “you wanna check?”  her response was something like shock-offense, then a no (to answer my question), and the realization that i am who i am when i am relaxed her again.  the task at hand was completed.  i had a stifled, under-clothing erection that lasted about 4 hours.  another hour this morning.  if i were you, i’d encourage us to fuck.  how’s that for a cool beau test?  one of two things will happen.  we will tire of one another, shortly thereafter, or we won’t ever want to get clothed in each others’ presence any more, ever.  in which case, who are you to stand in the way?  i know.  you’re you.  i don’t know where my life is going, but the more i learn from wonderful, kind, talented people like you guys, the more i know i will be ok no matter what happens. (editors’ note: i also know nobody ever misses me.  dictator seems to make that priority #1.)

or this: you’re not nearly desperately clingy enough for… i know.  all my dream girls are weird.  they’re my dream girls.  yes, you asshole.  your wife/girlfriend/partner/neice/daughter is my dream girl.  get over it, because i’m not apologizing for it and if you try to tell her to be anything less than she is, than she alone knows she has to be, i will take you down a few notches.  i have neither shame nor fear, and i have been a big brother to an adorable little redhead for my entire life.  love is all i have for any of you.

there’s a strange mix of paternal and other instincts goin’ on here.  maternal, also.

can i get a mug shot, so i recognize you when you open the door.

hey point.  don’t fuck me ever, because i’m gone the next morning.  for me.  for good.

all dude ever wanted was a snuggly road dog.

everything you do in meetings could be done in e-mail.  but no, you don’t like that, because you can’t be a controlling countrymen with your wooden mallet and Roberts rules.  heh.  bob rules.  a grasshopper walks into a bar.  bartender says, hey, we have a drink with the same name as you!  grasshopper says, really?  you have a drink named Bobbbbbbbbbbbb?  that’s how she telled it.  of course i miss her.  hey, as soon the concepts of creepy uncle, loser, dirtbag, pothead, homeless, jobless, listless, tireless, unstoppable, and horny-as-fuck are made not-bad things, as nature intended, eighty seven billion eligible women will gain immediate full access.  many hundreds already have.  thanks for becoming one of the chosen.

she invited me into the bathroom, while she was in the shower.  i had told her of my previous experiences with showers, and friends.  i sat and spoke gently, as you do with a small critter that has been scared.  by herself mostly, but realizing the relative non-importance of physical stature, that’s an advanced lesson.  physical interaction with the universe is an ongoing learning process.  we pick up skills we barely recognize, and along the way, we learn that the absolute worst things we’ve ever done are not really all that bad.  quit beating yourself up for something that happened years ago.  no, you’re my friend, and i see how you act, and i know you’re a good person.  yes, alcohol and other intoxicants change behaviors slightly, make some of us more mischievous, perhaps more daring.  you are the only one who can learn when/how/why to reel those parts of you in, to shorten their leash.  you have the control, over all of them.  you can choose how to react, and your responses to my blurting, forward honesty are humbling, to say the least.  on some planes of existence, our words matter more than contact.  past time creates such a constant, lasting sense of joy, your location and company won’t affect my enduring love.  i keep hitting false bottoms, and i keep running into the kindest souls to cushion my landing at each successive level.  something about this feels like bedrock.

right?  getting all epic.  nothing has changed.  nothing that has happened recently is any different from that which happened that first day, that first hour.  i am an admirer.  i’m not a collector so much as a wrecking ball.  i see the world through different lenses.  my perspective is fucked.  over, under, inside out.  to the core, and with resounding clout.

my heart chakra is engulfing the planet right now.  that’s what that tingle was (12:18 pm)

dear old housemates.  i think of you often.  i love you as regularly.  i would like to introduce you to my people.  not in an ownership sense, but in an identification sense.  they are me.  they shared me.  they endured me.  they supported and enabled me, when the means of doing so was not clear to many.

i forgot my shower puff, again.  yes, i use a shower puff with my dr. bronner’s.  the paws work almost as well, but abrasives speed essential cleaning tasks.  i almost offered to clean her (therefore, didn’t).  oh really?  you don’t think the queen should be washed and pampered by attendants?  i’m practically a eunuch, son.  i’m not going to plant a baby there until she asks.  at this point, probably until she begs.  dirty things, that’s what’s in my mind.  around you, anyway.  and by dirty, i mean similar to my bicycle.  beautiful, elegant, efficient, pleasurable, and well-lubed.  hey, in my imagination, we shagged each other rotten since the day we met.  that’s happened in real life before, too.  fucking a.  there is not enough weed on the planet to kill this fucking woodie.  go tantric, son.  i will record a song soon that captures the mood.

i’m apparently a capitalist at heart.  i work enough to give you a taste of how i work.  if you maintain landownerly control, if you maintain hierarchies, refusing to take the input of others, none shall pass.

got an abbreviated batch of stew cooking.  new kitchen.  need to get my large stewpot and the big jars.  it may end up in the ice cream bucket.  cool.  yes, we’ll have to do that first.  best get started on them dishes, too.  you can eliminate washing those sprout jars if you soak in-pan.  yes, but then the stove/pans are occupied for 24 hours plus.

we have ideas.  what do you do when you encounter the jobsite, the kitchen, the client.  we asked incorrectly last time.  timing shall improve.  as will explanation.  we gotta run.

lates. 3:17 pm.

it’s 1:05 pm the next day, and holy crap!  what a day!  my new housemate took me to her family’s thanksgiving turkey dinner.  i met her mom and brothers and aunt and old friends and lots of other friends of the family of whom i didn’t get full descriptions.

i was reminded of lord of the rings multiple times, as much ‘cuz we watched football and pumpkin chunkin’ as the appearance of her many archetypes.  most notably the king that was infected/possessed/overwhelmed by a demon/wizard/spell.  there were friendly acts all over the place, and the card game was civil.  i spent most of the time eating, as soon as the invite was extended, then drinking beer and watching football.

we have good discussions.  there’s always something to talk about.  that’s what happens when you put two people with similar neuroses together in a car for a while.

hey, are you ok now?  then why would i, in wanting to help you remain ok, remind you of a time when you were not?  yes, i am here.  how may i be of assistance?  have my baby.  umm, not right now.  oh, ok.

• http://boingboing.net/2011/11/27/howto-make-a-home-made-pocket.html
• http://io9.com/5838255/every-crazy-cia-plot-youve-heard-of-originated-with-one-man
• http://bitchmagazine.org/post/the-h-word-relationship-violence-and-the-racist-implications-of-the-mythical-pimp
• you’ll have to excuse me while i execute this http://youtu.be/5Bbw6a66E5Y cheese procedure.

if people come to my show and go “WOOO!” i will stop playing and ask them to leave.  it was more redundant than mean.  i know.  extraneous time wasting, same thing.  what if she wants to help you?  then she should help me and quit over-flirting without telling me what the deal is.  what do you think people are going to tell you?  i don’t want them to tell me anything.  they don’t love me.  they are destroying me.  we are often confused about this.  love is letting be.  if the object of your affection is drawn to you, go at it.  if you force it, you might get bit.  par. shoulda been par instead of de.  i fail so retardedly.  i can’t believe they don’t make up contests for shit i do just so they can kick me out and ban me from competing the next year.  what?  it’s not really torture, that which tortures me.  sublime states of human understanding become visible to the naked eye.

• http://www.ninpo.org/historicalrecords/bansenshukaivolume1.html
• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bansenshukai
• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flying_claws
• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ninja
• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kuge
• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Slungshot
• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Meteor_hammer
• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flail_(weapon)
• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Urumi
• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aruval
• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kirpan
• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kukri
• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maduvu
• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trishula
• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Javelin_throw
• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Buttstroke

12:38 am, and it sleeps.

next day. hey, one of my stalkers sent me a picture.  how about this, sweetie.  i block you on twitter, and un-block you immediately (this part hasn’t happened yet).  you agree to not re-follow me until after the new year, and i will probably not follow you back.  this is the direction i’m leaning right now.  i can’t deny that i like seeing your smiling face, but your messages are vague and slightly terrifying.  you seem to want to eat me.  i ain’t about to be cannibalized by one person whose name i don’t even know.  how many names do you have?  not to mention accounts, e-mail addresses.  oh, it doesn’t even matter.  what are you hiding from?  i’m absolutely the wrong person to be hanging around if you got secrets.  i’m not going to condemn your past, but i will be honest with you about how your words make me feel.  not so great.  i want to help, though.  for the most part, you’ve been pretty sweet to me.  part of me thinks that the only way i could help is by severing communication.  when is that ever the case?  with the limited vocabulary and vague statements, you sound like a concerned grandmother.  why?  why would you do that?  if you have questions, ask them.  you can take your hate or doubts or fear or whatever the fuck that is and shove it up your ass.  tweet it.  send your love outward, to the universe.  i don’t sext.  i’m not interested.

is that true?  i think so.  i’m a tight sweater from a hardon in cold water.  i don’t need to have my movement restricted by an unfulfilled erection pinned down with my belt.  no thanks.  you want a taste in person?  INVITE ME OVER!!!  otherwise, fuck off.

i don’t know grandma.  most of my experience with people my age and older is judgment and criticism, even if there’s sex.  maybe it’s me (probably it’s me), but if you’re looking for a dominant dickhead to slap your ass, pull your hair, and fling that old meatbot in a bunch of kinky positions, i could probably find a couple five hours in my schedule for ya.

not you mommy.  i’m in love with your daughter.  totally different story.  oh, you don’t think i’d stick it in your mom?  willingness is quite the turn-on when you’re horny.  who knows how any of that happens, but i tend to not approach, any other than the meekest, mildest, gentlest.  contact lovers.  we have catching up to do.

new video concept.  i don’t remember whether i’ve told you, and i don’t care.  it’s sort of an ode to girls who are, or have been, the objects of my affection/love.  i have a few interviews, and a script type thing, using clips that i have on hand.  it needs a song, and i probably should film something in decent light.  decent.  my vocabulary contains too many snide words.  yes, we both share that disease.

and once again, we are here with ourselves, nowhere to go and nothing to do.  are you going to offer me a place once i’m on the road?  are you after-the-fact going to tell me i would have been welcome to stay, but no.  you don’t have room for me.  and i won’t find that out until i get there with nowhere else to go.  a little planning, a little design, and a little building could put together all the infrastructure we need.  i don’t understand what you’re so afraid of.  really?  flying blind with no support net?  utterly abandoned by family and friend alike?  no, you have to worship the same golden calves as us.  right, i forgot, or explain it as something else and continue to exchange meaningless poisonous gestures of a once useful tradition.  if i’m not in the rotation, i’m not a part of the family.

what good does being part of the family mean any more anyway?  it’s not like the family has an estate where anyone can stay.  it’s not like they have a farm where you can work if you need that.  families are stupid now.  my tribes have no limitations, expectations are not attached, and sharing food is not a special occasion.

only a stalker would star that tweet.  only a freak would tweet it in the first place. touché.

look, none have proposed my execution, nor accused me of anything for that matter.  you don’t think a phone call from any one of my family members, explaining where the celebration were to be held and when, wouldn’t have gotten me there?  text?  e-mail?  they talked about it on facebook like a month ago.  that’s the contact that i get now.  i can only assume that as many people who wanted me there told me so.  this falls under the call for love, eh?

2:11 pm.  love me.  please love me?  not say it.  actually make contact.

• http://stancarey.wordpress.com/2011/11/22/how-the-klingon-language-was-invented/
• http://occuprint.org/ via http://twitter.com/#!/susie_c/status/141250177712398336
• http://www.laweekly.com/slideshow/lapd-faces-off-against-occupy-l-a–35642593/4/
• http://permaculturexchange.com/
• http://planetshifter.com/node/1966
• http://digilander.libero.it/vangeli/melchizedec.htm
• http://www.organicauthority.com/blog/organic/naked-but-not-transparent-hidden-gmos-land-juice-company-with-lawsuits/
• http://www.grist.org/sustainable-food/2011-11-28-old-world-innovation
• http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2011/nov/28/kansas-governor-overreacts-to-tweet
• http://www.salon.com/2011/11/28/occupy_storms_indoors/singleton/
• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sybian
• http://www.care2.com/greenliving/51-fantastic-uses-for-baking-soda.html
• The Dwarves Are Born Again
• http://my.opera.com/onenessbypgr/blog/
• http://www.van-life.net/

heh. 10:36 am, 29^th.  e-mail from wi democracy campaign teaches of legislative intent and wording.  according to the e-mail, “Wisconsin’s open records law requires agencies to respond to requests <as soon as practicable and without delay.>”  the organization sought “evidence of any enforcement action relating to the law requiring disclosure of the occupation and employer of campaign donors who give more than $100.”  it has been seven weeks.  no response.  i laughed before reading the request more closely.  how would you respond to that?  it completely depends on how the records are kept, doesn’t it?  this is why i feel that every organization should be a wiki.  that one sentence, the question, might be worded so poorly that none of the other aspects of the “open records” (ha!) request would matter.  it’s like a typo in the mastheadline.  the excommunicators stop there.  if they were open, you wouldn’t have to request them.  you’d submit a data query that would look something like SQL, and you would get back data as it arrived.  yes, constant, real-time measures of real-world things.  how the fuck else do you monitor something?  what do you think is the purpose of regulating, let alone calculating, anything?  [oh! entertainment] every one of you competitive retards is so hung up on making the fastest buck in the shortest term, in fucking over your fellow human beings, whether it’s just another person you encounter on the internet, your “best friend forever,” or your own family.  so, there are only like 2% honest people left here, huh?  that’s fucking pathetic.  the people that work at these fucking “advocacy organizations” and interact directly with the man’s land and soldiers, can you not see that you are being mocked, and fed continued lip service, that constant party faith is all that is rewarded by this system?  how many times need the point be made before you quit selling their shit for them?  nobody wants it.  nobody.  we live amongst a series of familial/tribal/organizational structures that do not feed and house their participants as a matter of course.  everyone please think about this.  what do they do?  they “donate” money to one of its poisoned, greasy, blood-soaked tentacles.  another warmaker.  great.  even the only do-gooders who get paid are the ones who take up arms.  your non-profit is anti-action, foot-dragging industry restrictions.  old boys network in hippie garb. hoo rah!

having any activities of the legislative process behind closed doors is clear evidence that the whole fucking system is fucked beyond recognition.  quit trying to resurrect the zombie as it tries to eat your brain!  the fuck is wrong with you?  your organization raised how much money?  you know how much property you could buy with that?  acreage, where we could camp and make food, and do all the things that were so wonderfully happening under the man’s watchful eye/guard.  are you really that scared of one another that you need armed babysitters?  my riots would disperse when asked to the officers’ homes, to parks, to abandoned big box stores, malls, and convention centers.  but no, you want to get arrested, keeping the man and his flunkies hard at work booking your smelly ass, and then raising money on the internet to cover your bail?  no!  that’s retarded!

the electromagnetic pulse that surrounds the dictator alerted the man’s matching programmed meatbots to its presence far before the shoes hit named streets.  buy the time they did, the farmtown was abuzz.  clucking short-haired egg layers, alpha dogs twitchy from being beaten and barked at all their lives, and a bunch of sleeper/transformer sheep/kitties, just wanting to be around in case something happens.  something always happens when dictator shows up.  how couldn’t it?  dictator’s alive awake aware enthusiastic. uh.  the cops are so used to running preserve and protect patterns around me, to an outside observer, you’d think they were there to protect me.  they are.  and themselves, from me.  from it.  don’t act like it’s disassociated.  heh.  why.  it’s more terrifying that way.  hardly.  that thing is us, you realize.  i know.  i encouraged it.  nobody else has fed that monster.  don’t call it a monster.  some of those it is.  fine.  can we move on?  we’re listening to the new Dwarves album again.  heh.  dirty dirty.  we were working on a scene, weren’t we?  yes.  you were getting out of your rice burner, uhh, dino-burner, i mean the future black popemobile.  ah, yes.  hugs.  when there are people we know, we get lots of hugs.  we know kind of a lot of huggable people.  if this hadn’t happened, the team would go to amp mode.  testosterone and adrenaline pulsing through your poison-clogged veins.  one of them pulled a can of pepper spray, and before it was discharged, the poor officer’s mask had been kicked upwards, and as dictator’s shoulders and knees went to work on homeboy’s soft spots, its hands delivered the tiniest spurt of pepper directly up his nose.  i put the can in my back pocket, and as i began to walk away, the booted lot surged for the kill.  “no.” as i placed my hand gently on the chest of the largest and most frightening within reach.  “let him live.”  a quick sigh/glance, then endorsement, “yes, let him live. let them all live.”  by the time i turned around, he was gone.  five minutes later, video communiqué confirmed pepper cop’s arrival at home.  one cop tried to pull a gun once.  another cop shot him in the leg.  it was beautiful.  we always feed the most violent first.  then they’re satiated and quiet, and keep an eye out while we chow.  you underestimate dictator’s strength.  he disperses riots.  single-handedly.  he stands in front of lines of cops and tells them that he’s got his eye on them as childcare co-op participants.  the fascists get so jealous.  fascism is jealousy.

that ought be tweeted.  yep.  don’t you call yourself a fascist?  yes.  i fascistly advocate for full consensus.  opinions are integrated as they are expressed.  if you fail to express your opinion, i cannot incorporate it.  until you fuckers know esp, you will continue to be confused as fuck by me, until you listen to me and learn to correlate the expressed words with the acts.  the truth is something else.  not in the middle, exactly, but an all-encompassing, inclusive path.  we thread everywhere and nowhere simultaneously.  we already covered that ground.

noonin!

http://youtu.be/7KIvbp10Sok is now replacing http://‽.ws/LAW as my twitbio url.  relevant links are available from there. if you don’t know how to navigate profile pages on websites to find out about people, you should realize that.  you will discover many interesting and beautiful people if you explore that way.  you are not going to get the full story unless you get it from the source.

old bio:

genderzero raw/pan-organic freegan life/contact/noise-loving anarco-structuralist nail-pulling flailbot. ▲♀✺✾✿❀❁❝✪✞✡☠☭☸♍∴∞ⁿ❞ ✩¶✍☀❂☯♥❦♡✇☥☮ it fuck.✱∻⊿○□◇△♨✖biter

http://‽.ws/LAW

new:

gende®zerØ▲↔▼raw wild freegan ✺✾✿❀❁ life/contact\noise-loving ☥✩¶✍♫♪π♥♡ open&distro[y'all] systm✇ structural mo’bot re/design ❝✪☠∴∞ⁿ❞ ☯☀❂☮ it fuckⁿ❦ⁿhugⁿ∑✖biter

http://youtu.be/7KIvbp10Sok

http://www.edencafe.com/the-elusive-o/

i love it when you put me in your newspaper, baby.  i hope you don’t mind me calling you baby.  i mean, i know you love it when i call you baby, baby.   i’m a retarded, perhaps even thee, on occasion.  it’s time to go to the meeting.  i think we’re getting t-bell on the way.  i know.  yummy. 6:01 pm

6:52 pm [diff’r’nt day].  guu’s,stevens point.  show here later.

yes, i’m still homeless, and i have fewer safe houses than ever.  exactly zero.  why the fuck do you think i’m at a bar?  my mom hates me and my shit, my dad is giving his house back to the bank, and my little sister has a huge house (also for sale) where i am not allowed to stay.

bitter?  yes.  angry?  also.  betrayed.  absolutely.  don’t call them abandonment issues.  getting stressed for being abandoned is a pretty realistic human reaction.  telling someone not to stress when they don’t have a warm pace to sleep is kind of a dick move.

all i can do is leave.  that is my only recourse.

this is stupid.  these last twenty four hours are retarded.  expressing pain.  nobody sticks around when you’re expressing pain.  unless you do it like the tv tells you to.  then, if you scream and cry and wail, they will give you cash.  or, if you’re stupid enough to hurt yourself.  those of us who will survive regardless are pretty much on our own.

i’m outtie.  be well 9:24 pm.

if i freeze to death tonight, i know it has nothing to do with your love for me.  it’s ok.

edited/vetted Thursday, December 15, 2011 2:57 pm.

dictator now lets us eat. but the food’s almost gone. pancakes for dinner. with corn syrup. not even kidding. there is butter left, but the good flour is at the mother’s.  why?  crybaby still wants us to go live there.  dictator won’t kill him.  it’s annoying as fuck!  whenever else we had these whiny fucks wanting to put up with horrible abuse because we have no other option, dictator took them out.  this fucking pansy who wants to go live with his mother, again, at 35 years of age, dictator’s broken every fucking bone in his body, multiple times.  it’s turned the rest of us into crybabies, really.  but dictator just keeps wailing on him, day in and day out.  i can’t believe he doesn’t have brain damage.  he is brain damage.  i would rather die alone than be offered a place to live where i am considered less than equal to other residents.  cash be damned.  you know every member of your family and every person who has claimed to be your friend is just going to tell you do die alone, then.  i am well aware, thanks.  and your sister is going to make fun of you for it.  yeah, i’ll be blocking them all on fb soon.  who was that?  i dunno.  we’re not blocking anyone on fb.  and, you should unblock that twitpal, too.  yeah, probably.  who told us to start asking for help, and how do you ask for help asking for help asking for help, anyway?  i don’t know, dude.  it’s the hoops you gotta jump through.  it’s not fair.  nobody said it was.  no, it’s completely illogical.  yes, but it’s what everyone wants.  everyone except you.  then i’m leaving.  that is your right.

homeless rv owner seeks warm-weather parking spot, with water and electricity (and internet, if feasible) for unforeseeable future.  cooks simple, mostly raw oil/sugar/salt-less vegan, drinks beer, smokes marijuana as often as is medicinally requested/required, and dances when the spirit moves it.  horny often.  takes a lickin’, keeps on tickin.’

world, i’m ankh-ing this next orgasm back at you.

fuck off,
t

this song mocks old people.  and their music.  old people and there music need/deserve to be mocked.  that’s not fair, or nice.  no, probably not.  i’m still sick, gimmie a break. not really.  never give me a break on anything.  keep me to the strictest standards.  oh, right.  that’s when i’ll hold others to those standards.  nobody wants that.  the constantly conscious can only be ignored.  that is the only way violent society knows how to “deal with” those who can think always.  pay attention, meatbot.

http://www.radiantdesigninstitute.com/page2.html

i knew early on i wasn’t looking for only 1.  i knew it would take more than one.  in what sense?  we don’t take anything.  it takes a lot to keep us occupied.  no it doesn’t.  and, it takes like five minutes to completely exhaust us.  homeboy would sleep for days.

why i read lots of blogs:

“Well here is my weekend in a nutshell:

I went to some party where a bunch of famous gay male porn stars did a strip show and auctioned off their underwear. It was hard to get a picture but…here is the best I got!

{picture of six ripped dudes in underwear on a blue-lit convention stage}

It was a little disappointing to learn that a lot of these guys aren’t actually gay. I don’t know why anyone not gay would want to have gay sex with a man on camera, but apparently this is a trend in the gay porn world.”

where else would one encounter that information?  well, yes, i would like to get into the porn industry, but i am just stupid in luv (i think that’s love and lust… maybe) with this particular punk-porn princess.  i really need some sex soon or i will implode.  i’m going to end up paying for it, aren’t i.  not likely.

so i wonder if the contrapositive is true of female porn stars.  that’s not even logically correct to say!  not to mention morals or decency~!  key slips are the best.

LOL! this was in the YouTube Mix for Daughters.  Daughters were a band from Rhode Island.  that Wikipedia entry refers to them as grindcore/mathcore/noise rock.  fair enough.  and yt once again introduces me to a new band.  Boredoms.  noonin.

So, it’s Sunday, and the only thing about my life that changes is what’s on the radio.  Sundays annoy me worse than other days.  i am highly annoyable, still, aren’t i.  yes.  that makes me a noid.  sometimes, you just gotta search google images.

• http://www.disinfo.com/2011/11/frank-miller-comic-book-legend-slams-the-occupy-movement/
• wow. frank miller is a dick.
• http://www.disinfo.com/2011/11/pepsi-getting-heat-for-use-of-aborted-fetal-cells-in-flavor-research/
• http://www.disinfo.com/2011/11/eroticized-dominance-predatory-behaviors-as-cultural-norms-and-political-tools/
• http://www.disinfo.com/2011/11/high-childhood-iq-linked-to-subsequent-illicit-drug-use/
• http://www.disinfo.com/2011/11/the-worlds-first-cocaine-bar-2/
• http://www.disinfo.com/2011/11/fda-allows-meat-and-produce-to-be-blasted-with-radioactive-nuclear-waste/
• http://www.disinfo.com/2011/11/congress-declares-pizza-a-vegetable-for-school-lunches/
• http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h-9bXc-WM4Q&feature=BFa&list=AVGxdCwVVULXeilkNWh9KQnwxQXFfr1MhU&lf=list_related

so, that’s where we are right now.  away from the fray, seeking porn.  if the fray had anywhere near sufficient lovin’, or if i had any clue as to how to access it, i probably wouldn’t feel so lost, sick, exhausted, and alone.  this song is making my day better.

what do you want?  nobody can answer this question.  or, they’re not willing to confront the inevitable follow-up questions.  somebody posted this on twitter last early evening (i crashed at like 7:30).  “you’re awful, i love you.”  heh.  his davenport has an afghan on it. “you suck so passionately.  you’re a parasitic psycho filthy creature finger-bangin’ my heart.  you call me up drunk, does the fun ever start?  you’re hideous, and sexy.”

much like mcr, i can’t really handle most of this band.  that’s why you don’t handle bands.  dance or do not dance.  there is no try.

as in, i am not trying, today, at all.  fuck it all.  calling in sick to the revolution = calling in sick to life.  surfing the internet and jacking off to internet porn is all that keeps me sane.  fuck your polite acceptance of your enslavement.  this shit is retarded.

new bio?  fuckless fucker.

wanting to learn is loving.  claiming love and not wanting to learn is lying.  clearly, what you want is to continue on the path you are headed.  not really.  i’m done.  here.  you take over.  you do it. well, you’ve done it.  i/we/it is not in love with any one, at any time, any more.  that doesn’t mean we aren’t in love with the all at all times.  fear puts me into scolding mode.  what is the worst that could happen?

why am i back here?  why was i back there?  nothing left for me to prove.  no pride.  made available, ignored.  if your system doesn’t encourage participation, you will get as much from me as you provide.

bitters.  acrid sips of violence.  we all share this all.

• heh http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/
• http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0sbPuNvV_TQ&feature=BFp&list=PL860E0BB2C96F08B1
• http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YQ1LI-NTa2s&ob=av2e
• http://www.youtube.com/user/TheThirdGathers#p/c/FFA8992CB980159B/0/G61chMWT5OM

this is my home.  my home is in abstentia.  so be it.

• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/In_absentia
• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Death_in_absentia
• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_premature_obituaries

“fuck these shitty bands” – me, upon clicking related links.  i playlist shit.  names alone have gotten in there.  i am for every shitty two chord no business amplifying punk band.  my whole everything is so far off today.

you and your girlfriends make me horny.  that isn’t horny.  what is it, then?  i have no idea.  twelve minutes until the hard boiled eggs are done.  i did not add salt this time.  they look like commercial factory farm eggs, so they’ll probably peel fine.  they are probably bred to do that.  there has to be a better way.  there always is.

hey, people that talk near and at me, i don’t consider you viable.  i mean, you’re fully agents of various propaganda infrastructures set up by industry and profit motives.  you are to be beaten out of your own heads, not reveared as learned.  lerr ned. learn ed.  lurrnaad.  o’what do iKnow? anyway.

brain sensor gets fired up, and we react to the aetherz what hit us in the flesh.  as this ended, this became hearable on el radio.  this b howit hearzits thyme.

i was elected in abstentia once.  i wasn’t running for the position, but i hear a few people spoke in my stead, and i received more votes than anyone else.  this provided me an excuse to drive to a monthly meeting in a far away land.  you can’t neglect the feeding when there’s important stuff to do.  that’s the time when it’s most important.  your brain is going to crank harder than it ever has before.  one meeting.

what if i went into the mayor’s office and demand that he hire me.  then what?  why would he hire you.  why do any of these powerful people hire me?  because i’m more powerful.  in ways that they are not.  it spends our time surfing the dark forces.  it hops between darkened light, riding gravity down each wave, simultaneously, yet not at all.

ate two eggs with sriracha and took a shower with a half-dose of peppermint bronners.  i bought a new bottle, but i left it at my “new place.”  my old place is self-imposed isolation.  my new place is sorta like my old place before that, but less so.  i now invented a fold-down living space that uses a rug as a wall.  the door will do a lot more than anything else.  yeah, probably.

we no cum here to be entertrained by son daze.  it is the sundae’s that is introtained byus. bias.  bi ughss.

• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Johannes_Scotus_Eriugena
• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Theophany
• http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=72n6PLHmKZA&t=9m35s
• use this link i tweeted, ‘cuz the intros are long and boring.
• http://www.richsoil.com/electric-heat.jsp
• http://www.centerim.org/index.php/Main_Page

logs off for sleeps.  12:15 am.

10:24, next day.  it’s nice out, but i still feel like ass.  poop.  sick.  icky.

knowing how to solve problems is dependent on uncovering the causes of those problems.  if those won’t let that happen, the solver is at an impasse.  i’m pretty sure i’m the problem.  i keep feeling hurt and pain and loneliness and frustration, and all these other stupid fucking human emotions that i have zero use for.  they get in the way of the things that have to be done, yet here i am, day after shitty day, typing.  documenting my pain.  great, so you’ve had a horrible life without anyone being able to tell or do anything about it.  oh, everyone can tell, they just don’t want to get their head bit off by trying to help.  yeah, you know how the people i know try to help?  they talk about me.  not to me.  send cash to charities.  pay your taxes.  this whole paragraph should just die.  so should writers if they want to be popular.  who said anything about popular?

dude, is this any good, or is it all douchebaggery?  i have to hear more, but the album cover has a winged skeleton dangling a heart on a string.  that can’t be bad.  it’s kind of about religion.  kind of.  i put it in winter solstice.  it turns whiny, then awful.  eew.  they called their third album violence.  probably good gentle people to hang around, but i will leave the room when the “harmonious” second singer starts in.

as far as i can tell, you take on insufficient care duties for far too many, leaving those closest to you neglected for those almost as close.  you satisfy enough of their human contact ache to keep everyone else away.  go all in.  tell everyone else to fuck the fuck off.  all this half-assed shit is driving me insane.  you were insane a long time ago.

then it tweeted like a tard bucket.  ex-fer-cept that buddeh holleh recover.

fuck toy
(to the tune of/a pile of geez2 buddy holly and the crickets’ 1958 top ten hit, “oh boy!”, previously covered by Melanie, mud, Stray Cats, Jackie De Shannon, Silicon Teens, Hank Marvin, and MxPx. holy awesome.  and this scene from la bamba? uhh, semi-related, must-watch. *giggle* love love. and this. heh.)

All good love
full body kissin’
You know full well what you’ve been a-missin’
Fuck toy, get high with me
Fuck toy, the world may c
when you, get nude, with me

Fuck my life
your body is great’n
Tonight will be no pez, just matin’
Fuck toy, when you’re horny
Fuck toy, slide around, lemmy see
Them lips, could be, on me

Starry eyes appear and panties a-fallin
You can hear my blue balls a-ballin
Alotta bit a-lovin’ lips be loose or be tight
‘cuz i could take out an army tonight

All good love
moanin’ n’ kissin’
You know there is uh nothin’ a-missin’
girl/boy, when you’re on me
pearl joy, pretty happy see
That goo, it came, from me

(many orgasm noises)

Dum-dee-dum-dum Oh boy
Dum-dee-dum-dum Oh boy
[Guitar Solo] (ooh-ooh-ooh-oooooh)

All is love
touchin’ a-lickin’
You ask real nice i may start a-stickin’
Fuck toy, go down on me
Fuck toy, ya make me hard, ya see
Then i’ll, lick you, all three

Fuck my life
porn is a-waitin’
i’d rather be helpin’ you masturbtatin’
Fuck toy, put your mouth on me
Fuck toy, we’ll let the world see
how you, get nailed, by me

Skin appears my inhibition falling
flickin’ my tongue round ya nest is ma-callin
then a deep sloppy kiss tells me everything’s right
a grab and pull and JESUS FUCK-o baby, that’s tight.

soft hard love
rub down titty-kissin’
You know i’ll fill in the gaps that you’ve been a-missin’
fuck toys, you’re goddess to me
fuck toys, our worldwide orgy
when you, get laid, by me.

“in a word or two, it’s you i wanna do.  no, not your body, your mind, you fool. come here baby, yeah.” – Prince – Sexy MF

“oh my god.” – gett off

i almost did a mash of gett off and oh boy.  i mean, i thought about it.  that requires opening a different application, you realize.  does anybody want to hear buddy holly mashed into a prince song about fucking?  yeah, you’re right.  they probably do.

whoa.

• http://youtu.be/i2VuHrr9WYg
• http://www.thefreedictionary.com/algolagnic
• http://www.google.com/search?q=Cephalopagus&hl=en&prmd=imvns&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&sa=X&ei=ivLKTtubKOaesQKIt4GxDg&ved=0CCUQsAQ&biw=1280&bih=939
• http://www.dr-med-rasen.de/encephalektomie/encephalektomiee.html
• http://wiki.answers.com/Q/What_is_the_meaning_to_encephalectomy
• heh. that kind of editorializing would never fly on Wikipedia. see!
• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Talk%3ADecapitation
• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_-ectomies#E
• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dismemberment

i dunno.  it’s a first draft.  i never end up singing the original draft.  i do like the term fuck toy, though.  it sounds more fun than sex slave, don’t ya think?  i am already a slave to sex.  that’s why i don’t get it.  that’s how i don’t get it.  i know that.  my job is to do shit like this, because y’all have been repressed and poisoned past the point of likely survival.  ok, so maybe the lot of ya will figure out that you can stop putting your resources to war, and start putting them towards life.

more rhymy orderz:

you’re too sure of the path, and it runs you encircle
land is all there, combine works with the perk’ll
buy out the bank, revise charter, derp wool
join me in skank, provide laughs, bellies full

their souls rot daily, they say, “heroes will save us”
handing marginalized slave wages to murderers, liars, and rapists

you’re addicted to psycopathy, you think it’s all the rage
you only think it’s the most efficient way because we’re locked in a cage
and the paths allowed have already been set to maximize prof-it-tiiing
as big brother rewards all the noise and hate with a new fighty sporty thing.
hey.

owners repurpose your land to grow food
help us please now time to get in that mood
higher arc, eBooked logician red-taped all the smart
poets keep sharing love, & we call that shit art.

you know you could make that its own post, and probably more people would like it.  i know.  don’t parse me, bro.  i mean, parse me, bro.  where’s my editorial staff?  where’s the band?  where’s the dance troupe?  corporeal feelers have been set in every direction.  if you don’t recognize that as invitation, i don’t know what to tell you.  i keep saying it over and over.  do you, now.  repeat yourself, do ya?  i can.  i tend to.  that’s very Socratic of ye, ain’t it.  some say.  do they now.  why are you being a dick, giving me a hard time like that.  we’re crankin’ out keystrokes here.  nobody gives a fuck about your keystrokes.  they are not profit-driven, therefore, depravity.  decrepit.

oh, whatever the fuckskis.  i am too a blogger.  i’m a shitty poet and a horrible dancer.  who fucking cares.  right?  i bought a small ship in which to grow my empire, and exactly zero people signed up.  for what?  for anything.  to like, to help, to donate.  all these things have been asked.  formalities be damned.  i have nothing to prove to any of you fuckers.

why can’t i just get writers block?  then i’d have to go somewhere and meet flesh and blood humans.  why, what have they ever done for you?  oh seriously, some of them have made me cum.  i’m caught up with most, or the offer’s been pretty resoundingly rejected.  dictator sees no reason for anything to be withdrawn from the record.  ever.  then how would you know the whole story?  isn’t that what everyone wants?  to know god?  to be able, for perhaps the first time, see all that is good and right with the world, and the reasons for all our difficulties, and the beauty and richness of contrast.  let it be.

it is easy.  once you know the password, or any number of procedures.  yeah, keep the guards in place.  it has to exhaust itself if all those around it refuse.  must you condemn me for my own survival despite your repressive beat-downs?  loving the details will chase the devil right out of them.  bare witness.  voluntarily, a concept the shortsighted exploitation-minded camp can barely comprehend.  all for love.

conflating business savvy with talent makes popularity a strange thing.  pleasure centers tweaked by that constant stream of magazinic-televiz’ed-movie-time ad streams still put me in a comfort-food-stuffed, materialist-drivel bender.  consumers, yo.  no, yore a heraldic emblem.  do you really think that link is gonna work?  or, better, that anyone is going to give a fuck about it?  people like information.  it’s not good, bad, or otherwise.  it just is.  i opened this stream, cracked this shell, unleashed this demon, awaken. give ‘em hell.  kid, whatever‽ i learn.

• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Conflation
• your http://youtu.be/9vOkpOKpy6Y welcome (is my pleasure. and you are)
• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Portmanteau
• http://www.grist.org/food/2011-11-21-thanksgiving-marking-the-seasons-in-a-post-seasonal-world
• http://www.archive.org/details/Miracleo1956
• http://www.antagoni.st/2011/11/21/intimate-tyranny/
• http://gizmodo.com/5861446/this-is-the-pepper-spray-police-used-on-uc-davis-protesters
• http://www.sabrered.com/servlet/the-template/faq/Page
• http://www.buzzfeed.com/mjs538/the-pepper-spraying-cop-meme
• http://www.defense-technology.com/products.aspx?pid=56825

in word, my preferred typing platform, bang (exclamation!) question (?)mark now gets auto-corrected to interrobang‽ really.  really‽  seriously, yes.  Tools > AutoCorrect > Options.  I have those.

hey, way fun.  at 9:19, youtu.be short links and Wikipedia links are showing up on my twitter profile, as are bit.ly links. and hover seems to show the destination url of the t.co links.  well, that’s better than nothing.  thanks for improving your product, or whatever.  it’s now up to slightly less stupid.  showing those t.co links hides data.  censorship.  fuck you, it’s simple programming.  if your people don’t know how to do it, let me hire people that do.  ones and zeroes.  i don’t know anything about that shit.  i know only enough to be dangerous.  no more, no less.  actually, sometimes, a lot more, and a lot less.  what does that even mean?  who knows.  i guess you’ll just have to tune in next time!

…to be continued…

heh.  i love you.
t

p.s. watching this again.  i am.

p.p.s. this crew has spare parts i could use on my home, eh.

spending all the time and money re-enforcing this system is a waste of my time.  besides costing a shit ton for taxpayers, it will only increase the speed with which moneyed interests continue to strip that which you once considered your rights, privileges, and benefits.  quit feeding the machine.

no, i don’t vote either.  i don’t pay taxes, and i’m running for king fascist of this whole fucking shit.  no, this country is a waste of fucking space and it has never been free.  your leash is loosened up to the point where you can’t tell that you’re in a cage, and you enforce all of your masters’ insane rules on others.  fuck you and your corporate funded annoyance in public places.  when any of those people you work for give a flying fuck about what happens on the ground level in this country, they will join my efforts.  in the mean time, i’m not going to get in your way.

i got to emy j’s by quarter after 11 today.  greenhouse work started ten minutes ago.  i should get over there.  i am in no rush.  i’m going to finish my coffee first.

you want me to say more about this recall thing, don’t you.  i don’t like it.  i don’t like any participation with the machine.  when power provides a route of participation that’s a futile, up-hill battle of a lie, that’s not really participation.  to spend you r time acting in ways that contribute to this system is to legitimize that system.  do you get that?  by your action, even if it is only to stand against the acts of those in power, you are supporting that system.  that system is what needs to die, and you are keeping it alive.  stop it.

if we don’t have a human database, we should start thinking in those terms.  who are the useful people?  what kind of personality traits would be useful to have in an elected official?  me.  yes, me.  i am the best leader i have ever met.  i am just incapable enough to inspire the helpless to begin acting, and i fear exactly zero human beings.  except, of course, the little girls who make me weak in the knees.  my unrealistic expectations (they’re not that) keep me heart-shredded six ways from Tuesday.  what are you even doing here?  my purposes are multi-fold.

1. partnership
1. physical
2. sexual
3. business
2. facilities
1. shelter
2. shop
3. storage
4. office
3. transportation
1. to work
2. to friends
3. to music
4. usefulness
1. interaction
2. communications honing

i put honey in my coffee and didn’t stir it.  i carry a wooden stir stick in my office, along with my dumpsterred travel coffee mug, and various reminders of happiness.  the last sip is the sweetest when you forget to stir.

give them the honest list:

• global play net (sex)
• take over the world (drugs)
• secure dictatorial birthright (rock’n’roll)

that’s a little better, you narcissistic ass.  don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.  why?  i gotta like everything?  well, no.  i don’t have that point in conversation where you’ve said something to me that completely shocks me or knocks me out of my honest assessment of the world around me.  i have no sacred cows to be perturbed.  this place is a horrible, abusive joke, and to allow you to continue to rehash “your views” as if they emanated from your own skull in the first place, tv zombie… what?  oh nothing.  tabula rasa.  blank slate.  i will put you there if you can’t get there yourself.  then, when you’re standing without a clue or a word to speak, i will calmly and gently explain the rationale and the process for the next logical step that will result in the most happy people, the most constructive useful work for real live humans to do, and the most inclusive, nutritious system with which to deliver all that we need.

i am the undisputed dictator of planet earth.  forget that, and i will crush your gods be they golden idols or propaganda infrastructure.

do not adhere to the paths presented by your me-dee-uh masters.  use their funding to create your own networks, but keep track of people willing and able to move, speak, listen, and learn.  for the tasks yet to come have not been completed by anyone, anywhere.  there is no consultancy to hire for the revolution.  or, the consultants of the revolution will not be wearing nooses.  theu.s.government has a habit of disposing of its most critical agents, and following the path of least resistance in such a dysfunctional organization will not put one in good stead with the commons.  these are diametrically opposed.

that said, this tension is inevitable and required.  let the flails of the machine bleed the front lines dry, and support them.  feed, house, and keep them able to stay on the front lines.  this means coordination of housing, cooking, and warmth.  revel in the smell of your fellow human animals.  quit thinking you’re going to signature your way out of the man’s death-grip.  please sir, stop choking, beating, and poisoning me.  all these people agree that it ack ack ack.  fucking pathetic.  keep up the good work.

i’m now a half-hour late.  this rant is mean.  no it isn’t.  it’s auto-neurotic.  i did too just coin that germ.  lerrm.  i’m gonna go post this and show up closer to an hour late for my volunteering shift today.  i love it here.  do you?  this place hasn’t given you what you want.  i get what i need.  my lovin’ requirements are increasing.  massive bandwidth capacity will increase that.  says you.  says physics.  fizz ickks.  i’m still on the weedeater kick.

i’m a judgmental, hateful little rat.  that’s not true either.  you step into existing systems and your participation isn’t optimally leveraged, or supplemental/supporting systems aren’t in place to maximize procedural impact.  that, and the owners are as protective of their property as you are paranoid and terrified about not having any.  where to put?  how to fund?  a pitfighter doesn’t get funding.  who would?  the bands you rip off?  copying and replicating data is how cultures evolve.  refining is how humans improve.  my work is ripped off at the root and no public acknowledgment occurs.  we try not to take this personally, but after stealing/co-opting the less critical points of my plans, those gate keepers ignore my actual contributions.  no they don’t.  what do you want?  the ability to receive mail and secure warm residence is paramount, at the moment.

i don’t really want that.  i want to fuck (daily) a willing horny female (negotiable, must have vagina) as much as i need something to do.  as much as i need some things to do, i need acknowledgement of my existence.  how are those any different.  they are not.  you are a broken and twisted soul, sonny.  not even.  this culture is so fucked, and the majority still tows the party line.  clinging to the man’s uselessness will not save you.

i trust/will/contract.
t

i had an idea. for you.

pledge a start.

for a one-time extra cost, sign up to receive an organically grown start from the downtown greenhouse.

infrastructural requirements:

solid price-per-square-foot, installed, of a solid roof and modular, wheeled carts, in which these starts could be grown over the winter. they would have to be watered by volunteers, probably. this would likely make each of the starts like $20, which is a manageable investment for anyone. if someone doesn’t have a garden or wants to learn more, we could hold classes at the library or mall, on anything from garden design to compost to planning. investing in a start is the only requirement of attending these classes. the “sales materials” or whatever could have charts or “sample designs” of small-scale gardens or greenhouses made with the scrap on hand, or available in the near future. tool workshops and trainings could be conducted by marcus or anybody in a number of viable shop areas, and shared designs using local resources could be shared and installed within walking/biking/donated-gas distance.

three square feet could be referred to as a “windowbox” investment, and as many starts as would fit in a windowbox could be another investment scale.  so, you have 3 south-facing windows? you get the idea.

then, out front, there could be a big painted sign, an “artists rendering,” if you will, of the premises.  the angle of the greenhouse could look all dingy in “pre-investment” form, and as money came in, a clear-skied, sun-shining, bird-singing segment could be painted in on the sign so that people could see the progress as they drove downtown. we could build the sign with scrap, get the paint donated, and make everyone who drives past think about it every single day.

i could do training/classes on tools, basic woodworking, computer repair/networking, consensus meetings/decision-making, cooperative trust agreements, solar oven/dehydrator design, and/or construction of raised beds made from the ripple board or brick scraps. as a part of this process, i also donate my workhorse abilities, as a pre-agreed capital investment in a cooperatively owned property, credited hourly. the veggie starts should be that, also, don’t you think?

i could babble forever. i sort of brainstorm for a living. i want to make up for this unscheduled need for capital investment, right as the snowy season begins.

also, i bet an architect in town could design ten legal living spaces into that back building, in which the “business incubator” participators could reside. composting toilets, solar showers. for those paying for the house share with labor hours (me, for example), no cash would need change hands. i could draw down on my credited “investment.” for those requiring a small, cooperative, shared living space, the cash cost would be quite low, but would contribute to solving part of your monthly cash-flow issues, and an investment structure for that other building could be set up in much the same way the veggie starts thing.

if you would like me to pursue any of these ideas, i’m available to do this kind of office/curriculum/training work at an initial exchange rate of $50/hr, credited as capital investment with the option to draw it down for housing, food, or whatever cooperative services are available for a fee. what if i wanted to hire you or marcus for an hour?

anyway, let me know what you think.

thanks for all that you do and have done.

t

i e-mailed that to the director.  it was a reply to her announcement that black mold had been uncovered (i did that. i had help, but it was unauthorized and unscheduled, and it changes the budgeting calculations.), and it still sounds like me begging for a job, huh.  yeah, it kind of is that.  i have put in now over 40 hours there, with only the understanding that a total of 250 will give me “charter member” or some similar designation status.  they probably will give me 249 and then tell me to go to hell.  that’s what i would do if i were all of you.  sap it for all it’s worth, and then slap it with a restraining order.  haha!  take that, wannabe do-gooder!

i have a good time working with people there.  if the man tells me i can’t show up and carry heavy things any more, i will find another place to work.

human wrecking ball.  aim carefully.  authorize supervision only if you want to uncover the most toxic shit that there is.  SOMEONE HAS TO ACCEPT RESPONSIBILITY FOR THIS AND THAT SOMEBODY IS ME.

i think it’s the die antwoord talking.

i fell for one of my loves’ mothers today, without knowing who she was.  capable woman.

if you don’t put up solar hot water collectors and run that shit under the snow-collection areas on the greenhouse and channel that water into an indoor watering system, i will.

i don’t even remember my myspace password.  it’ll come to me.

yeah, totally.  you sound like a cop.  lawyers are uber-cops.  judges are uber-lawyers.  politicians are lying sacks of crap and shouldn’t do anything except make speeches and look important.  how else are we going to make fun of that?  blah, huffery-puffery, blah.

i, human bean. being.  whatever.  do hereby pledge

i logged into myspace, and all i did was listen to my own musics.  i’m a way better musician than you guys.  seriously.  this took me like, as long as it took to record it, to do.  this is what i’m listening to, right now.  8:09 pm.  3 hours and 2 minutes from the one-ing of one-ness.  i’m talking about 11:11:11 pm on 11/11/11.  we already passed an am, didn’t we.  i was hauling toxic shit out of a greenhouse that i de-installed without proper protection or permission or fear of anything.  then, i left it in a toxic and incredibly heavy pile of whatnot which i spent the day moving to a dumpster about a block away.  i loaded up a 4-wheeled cart and moved as systematically as i do.

heh. next day, 10:52 am. i got a busy-non-response.  i like that better than silence.  she also said, “you are a force.”  for good or evil, she didn’t say.

i gotta restart, but there’s probably more to say on this. i’ll let ya know.

11:22 am.  pledge a start.  i like that.  a start is a baby plant.  it has been incubated during the seed’s development period, and it is raised in a protected environment until it is warm enough to be planted outside.  to get this thing off the ground, it should be a community garden incubator.  not to mention filling that fucking lullaby plot next door with delicious foods until plans for an off-the-grid eco-community are completed.  the municipal electric car conversion will happen there, using alternating current motors from old farm or industrial applications.  hell, power tools.  we teach every mechanic to do it, and everyone can standardize their tools, practices, and safety procedures.

git ‘er doooonnne!

do you realize how many people have DIY carpentry, mechanical, and electrical experience?  these cats could be herded together and allowed to work in open and inclusive spaces

holy crap. these are winter work boots: mining boots.

i have to install a bios battery on a dell latitude d620.  brb. 1:17 pm. ok. done.  1:52 pm.  i didn’t even have to take out all the screws like i did.  pop off the hinge cover and remove three screws in the keyboard, and it flips up and there’s the bios battery.  the one that was in there only needed to be plugged back in.  how does that kind of thing even happen?  i replaced it.  cramming the new one under the little plastic bracket probably took the most time in the entire process.  anyway, it boots.  the system does.  it can’t get past the security software, but that’s another story.  my role in its resurrection is done.  ole.

the d.s.p.f.g.  the downtownstevens pointfood greenhouse.  featuring compost and clean local energy.  i name stuff.  what of it?  must eat, and trim my fingernails. 3:01 pm.

these ones close-by here, these are going to be high maintenance systems.  it’s a learning process.  we’re testing the weathering of a variety of materials.  and, we use things like strips of old vinyl siding to seal up the greenhouse.  or aluminum cans.

if you cut the cans flat, and folded an end over, they could be daisy-chained, then bent as a long sheet to create a spar cover.  if this could be set to spring down against glass, you might not need an adhesive.  an old inner-tube or other gasket could possibly be used.  not to mention, there’s enough plastic waste and need here to look into melting and re-shaping equipment.  if we can fabricate the raw materials, why should we outsource any of it?  we share all the information about the growing pains of the process, and why putting attention to detail in certain areas is critical.  bottlenecks.  ensure switches have sufficient capacity and temperature/pressure requirements.  you’re going to have to run the entire system through a computer modeling first, and that model will form the basis of the management software for the system.  it should have default smart algorighms, sensing more variables than any one person could possibly know.

ok, i gotta type up these lyrics.

Weedeater – god luck and good speed
the original, and my version. ♬ⁿ☠¡♭

recorded 2011-11-12 by LazyAssWasteoid

this is a cover by http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Weedeater_(band)
original’s here: http://youtu.be/ne2ZNn08uqA

only lyrics the internet had were:
“untied we stand
long live dirt weed
mankind is unkind man
god luck and good speed”

i guessed the rest:

i feel your role
and i know your type
it’s all the same to me
and you know i’m right
i’m falling

you see make mao
and i see you smile
five thousand ranger blades
ten thousand miles
of crawling

untied we stand
long live dirt weed
mankind is unkind man
god luck and good speed

i don’t really bring
what’s with myself
ain’t got no time
for no one else i know

i tell myself.
that i’m not like me
one hundred just won’t fit
the murder one can see
my go

untied we stand
long live dirt weed
mankind is unkind man
god luck and good speed

pretty much, existing on the same plane of existence as me means that we are in the same mosh pit.  if i’m flailing around a pit, i better get hit.  it inevitably happens anyway, because i will propel myself into you, as sort of a combination smart bomb/human shield.  thing.  i went all out and downloaded all the weedeater i could find last night.  i probably owe that band like forty bucks now.  so, please go buy some weedeater shit so i can maintain my artistic karma.  technically, it’s not that.  but whatever.  i made them a free commercial.  i’m not a consumer as much as a producer.  the earth is a developing market.

my slaves work independently and unsupervised.  my supervision is all encompassing, so people will immediately learn every aspect that is necessary, immediately.  i am cold, and i have a bit of a sniffle today.  caffeine headache.  maybe i’ll make tea, shower, and bundle up.  or take a nap.  naps are beautiful when you’re sick.  work body.  you don’t need me being all whiny.  let it work in peace, and it will do what it knows it needs to do.  if you’re as full as the toxins that i am, it’s gonna need help cleaning that out.  shower, and eat fiber.  seeds, nuts, fruits.  no salt, no sugar, no oils, and lots of water.  hot water even, in lieu of tea, i have heard will work.  the heated liquid still dissolves nasties that clog up your many membranes and filters.  think good thoughts about your kidneys, liver, and blood.  imagine them delivering toxins to excrete from your pores, and out in your urine and feces.  a lot of water is essential for these processes.

in about 8.5 minutes, i will have the protector under limited education-only, natural law license.  i mean unlimited unfettered open source sharewarez.  that’s a part of god luck and good speed.  a hacked laptop in every kitchen and a free texting phone on each and every human over the age of 6.  the acreage and helper animal are variable requirements, but we can work with what we can get.  hey, irl doesn’t have as much sex as i need.  anywhere.  so, i get my sex from the internet.  i take what’s free, which means i have to use my imagination probably more than those with money.  that’s ok, though.

if i’m surrounded by people who aren’t making physical contact with me, i’m probably going to get anxious or upset, or start talking a lot, about any range of bullshit which i can spout until long after the cows come home.  i dunno.  being alone isn’t such a big deal by yourself.  when you’re surrounded by people you would much rather be naked next to, underneath, or on top/inside of, being alone starts to hurt.

• http://zunguzungu.wordpress.com/
• http://knaves.posterous.com/
• http://metacurrency.org/
• http://targetedcurrencies.net/documents
• http://newcurrencyfrontiers.com/wagn/Deeper_Resources

so i hear.  it’s noon oh three on monday the 14^th.  the noon lunch air raid siren mashed perfectly with this song today.  fortuitous, or intelligent design.  you decide. the beginning of that playlist is better than the ending.  so far.  i don’t know.  i love everything.  i do rather mindfully.  moreoso.  hmm.

‘cuz well i believe them all.

subscribed, friended, for a song and a name. LurkingCrassZero.  haha.

i keep watching this.  i haven’t liked one of my song videos as much as this in a while.  crazy in love, i think they call that.  with non-specifics.  an ever-evolving cloud.  i considered doing a more complete mix of this, making it overlayable/mashable/compatible with the original.  yes, like a duet.  collaboration.  LAWeedeaterz.  yes, i give names to projects that ain’t happened yet.  so, doesn’t mean they ain’t gonna.  one i was in is called slutz.  weedsloth. i’m not sure if the concept had me in it, but holy batt-knuggets, that project has promise.  LazyAssWasteoid is only a term.  it’s an extra long user-name, not likely search-steal-able.  look, the man got skyscaper already.  it doesn’t take too long.  you have to include “permaculture” AND scroll down to click on the “yes, i meant what i typed, google” link.  with LazyAssWasteoid, boom.  8 of the top ten are me.  for-profit organizations are prohibited from using the business name, and i am the only associate/owner/contractor so far.  it’s a brain trust.  a labor trust.  a food trust.  a data trust.  an entertainment trust.

as of now, we’ve mapped out most of our intended conquerable territory, and await invitation from the relevant pillars, and prepare our welcoming surroundings for the long, cold winter.  i cannot leave this area.  i cannot distance myself from any of these people.  so, i must get closer to them until we can communicate, to the point of understanding and mutual love, and then i may go do some traveling.  this is the home i came here to build, and i intend to see the project through to its completion.  or, you can help me get tooled up and on the road now, and i can respond to any questions via e-mail or web video.

• http://www.permacultureproject.com/tag/skyscraper
• http://forum.skyscraperpage.com/showthread.php?t=168172
• http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O3tNylJr7Z4

loving heaps of love,
t

“There is a significant difference between filtration, which is a standard industry practice intended to create a shelf-stable honey, and ultra-filtration, which is a deceptive, illegal, unethical practice.”

Food Safety News – Tests Show Most Store Honey Isn’t Honey
“Ultra-filtering Removes Pollen, Hides Honey Origins”

i dislike when articles hate on china.  “[the Chinese] have illegally dumped tons of their honey – some containing illegal antibiotics – on theU.S.market for years.”  ok, for one, it’s probably a Monsanto antibiotic, us corporations likely perfected the process, and this is the honey we’ve all been living on for years.  this is what happens when you outsource your food.  not to mention, the FDA is backwards, pathetic, nay, useless.  we will all be certified food safety experts by the time i’m done with ya.  yuh huh.  yuh huh.

it’s 9:15 am, and the greenhouse work day starts at 11.  i should shower.  i don’t exactly know why.  freshly sewn pants, for one.  yes.  them’s sparkly.  i’m sure we’ll have ripped another something by this afternoon.  hmm.  could be.

with the pieces sitting behind and inside the greenhouse right now, i could build a solar garage for me and my rv to stay for the winter.  really?  it would take a while.  not with 20 people helping.  20.  more like 5,000.  you couldn’t keep that many people busy.  listen here, motherfucker.  what is a leader?  an enslaver of men.  the alpha dawg.  the one who sets the path, and takes on the dirtiest jobs that nobody else will do because someone has to do them if this thing is gonna get done.  you can’t keep five people busy for three hours.  i could keep a planet busy for as long as it needs.

clean-up and building are one-time tasks.  maintenance/improvement is ongoing.  improvement does not necessarily mean changing infrastructure.  improvement is typically in process, detail, precision, and decentralization.  centralization only makes sense under a fascist regime.  once humans can think/act for themselves, they will be completely self-sufficient in no time.  look around atAmerica.  even without building new roads all the time, we have a transport grid that can be gradually scaled back as needs dictate.  as we pull up the lawns and ornamental plants nearest our homes, and learn, together, how to put organic matter of all types back into the soil, and therefore our food, our very selves.  we will plant with intention and cooperate with one another to use existing infrastructure for its highest available use.  stop promoting the people who let everyone slack off.  they’re not doing anybody any favors.  stop promoting the people who tear others down.  they’re not doing anybody any favors, either.

design will save the world.  inclusive public open source design is saving the world.

huh?  what don’t i do?  i will not relish my enslavement.  i love honest production.  i produce policy and some of the finest physical labor ever witnessed.  also, i’ll tell ya this: when i encounter an opportunity to share love, it consumes me.  it unbalances me.

when the revolution cums, i’m gonna get all my hooker, waitress, secretary, model friends, and we’re gonna fill our trunks with the corpses of twitter comedians organic matter.  you know, like a recycling operation.  that’s not even a joke.  it was an attempt.  yeah, but the rolling dichotomy tweet thing?  you can’t stretch it that far.  i just did.

this is retarded.  i have to take a dump, yet i continue to type.  a tad anal retentive today, are we?  i guess.  who knows why.  i have to kill time so i’m late.  you have to be late?  it’s almost like a rule.  fine.  whatever.  9:49 am.

http://twitter.com/#!/haelox/status/134586981698113537

works that i am suited for.  11:11 am.  demolition, destruction, the heaviest work that people do, the most delicate work that people do, the most complex work that people do, and the simplest work that people do.  welcome to my life.

did i tell ya it was a rollercoaster?  i’m pretty sure i mentioned that.

love,
t

and then we left for bikies. 1:15 pm

and now we listen to ramschackle glory. 3:10 pm.

caw caw, says the crow outside my open windows.  it’s in the 50’s, and it smells like me in here.  my little stanky cave needed a freshening.  that it got.

so, i have offers, but they’re all half-assed offers.  exactly zero people give a fuck about my comfort and health.  ok, one.  one people. who can do something about it.  i know, i’m nobody’s dependent.  i’m society’s dependent.  i don’t even get food stamps.  why is that, exactly?  only because nobody cares.  or, nobody wants to go into a business arrangement with someone they consider crazy.  well, except me.  i don’t believe that anyone is actually crazy.  unless your non-stop violence makes you that.  could be.  ah, but the dark side has its perks.  shout and freud.  we’re repeating ourselves now.  good.

quit describing ideal systems.  start building them.  fine, don’t hire me.  let me continue to be homeless and enslaved to the unspeaking faithful.  they are not as addicted to these globalized waste-streams as you think.  we could produce, conserve, share, or scrap much of this, in-house.

this http://youtu.be/cyWgPsoE_cg is crazy good, says me.

many people, i sorta understand their motivation.  you are mysterious.  dangerous?  heh.  fear-inducing.  takes one to know one, i say.  what?  excacktly.  who lets you anywhere near a keyboard?  dictator do.  he like makes us do it.  our life isn’t ruined enough, he’s all.  but we have fun when he’s passed out.  whatever.  fuckin’ laziest, that guy.  bike ride in sunny fifty degree weather early this afternoon.  i worked up a sweat.  and i didn’t eat before, and i’m now on my second bowl of stew.  had less of the spices i’d usually use, but

god save http://youtu.be/yuundf4PvFk pat the bunny

pat, you’re now mashing with the jazz show that manages to make jazz boring and repetitive, and uni-dimensional.  mostly.  am i still prejudiced against jazz?  no, you’re picky about it.  different.  pick your own jazz, internet wizzzrrrrd.?  puh, like that requires spinning around to off the radio with my toe.  i thought you were gonna sew tonight?  we still might.  cool yer jets.  bunko.  mr. banjo belly-button.  whoa.

i don’t know what it all means, sally, but we don’t know anyone by that name.  we must.  someone on twitter?  i don’t think so.

don’t pigeon-hole me, self.  uh oh. http://youtu.be/A5jI0IbdDxA we might not get sewing done tonight now.  hmm.  subtitles?  heh.  this shit rules.

kung fu makes me practice.  meatbot flail.

it is ironic and sad to me when the select few who have been selected, or who select themselves (2:32 pm, Tuesday, November 08, 2011) to be “in charge” of something that affects all of us tell people to stop complaining.  if that is your response, step down.  some of us are not overwhelmed by including all of these elements into the design process, and most of us recognize that they are essential.

it seems to me that anyone with a house who isn’t sympathetic to the homeless condition ought to learn.  or the jobless condition.  or the foodless condition.  if you aren’t putting every jobless person to work in that huge centrally located space every day, you’re not very efficient at distributing power.  oh, that’s just it, isn’t it.  you aren’t distributing power.  you’re using the same top-down, dictates from the fascist system that has allowed for-profits to run rampant.  regulations are the protections that the people put in place to protect their physical selves from the weapons and harmful things that profit will, has, and does create on a daily basis.  each and every one of you must choose not to participate in that.  as long as a single person is allowed to benefit from violence (interest), none of us are safe and clear of anything.  this virus is embedded on your very brain.  it is woven into your genes, it is one of the strands of your DNA.  it is because you know how to accept this violence that you miss it on every level.  it is your demon.  it is your ghost.

tv makes me stabby/yelly/bitey.  don’t ever send me clips of tv.  i will watch them, and you will receive the brunt of my annoyance.  you’ll be expecting a front-on attack, but simultaneous to that, our nano-soldiers will detach all our clothes from the back, so we’ll just be standing there naked in front of each other.  that’s always fun.

so each of us are a business.  early on.  i’m thinking like age 5.  that’s a whole other discussion, i suppose.  as if we don’t include those.  heh.  we’re put into the database, and our actions are tracked.  each interaction, a community rating is being formed.

oh, for fuck’s sake, if i didn’t want to have sex with you i wouldn’t have sat down next to you in the first place.  what does that matter.  it’s what’s going through my mind right now.  i think about sex a lot.  more than people are comfortable with.  the sexual repression of this horrible place is probably the most torturous to all of us.  condemnation of others actions, no matter what they are?  that is no way to run a social interaction!  and why do you continue to so stringently believe the planet capacity requirements of those who make war and death implements for a living?  of course they’re going to say that!  those are the big lies, because they misassume an absence of health.  add health to the equation, and the sky’s the limit.

you must reprogram yourself from the ground up.  it doesn’t matter how.  if you’re one of the people, relatively speaking, who only reads 50+ star tweets, you really don’t have any right to complain.  who digs in?  the authors.  the reporters.  the addicts.  the information junkies.  yes, lawyers also.  of course, all of these have the option, when taken from a job sense.  there are people that occupy all types of jobs around planet retard slave that are not essentially those jobs, and who really ought not be there.  if the system functioned healthfully, as it claimed, this would not be possible.  but, lying being the course in business and power struggles (omission being the most common), we all see bureaucrats running all sorts of organizations and budgets.

we videotape all meetings.  we tag each other, real-time, with things like evasive, violent, we report/record when they giving the silent treatment to one who wishes to speak.  when they do so, they are removed from the facilitator position by the database.  consensus fixes a lot, but the combination of technology and consensus could teach a large group of people about healthy interaction in a short period of time.  strict, immediate consequences for infractions will train us onto the same page.  this is a problem of logistics, not philosophy.  you train your designers as cogs, and there won’t be a cohesive machine.  this is another need/requirement for transparency.  full, unfettered, real-time transparency.

we strip you naked, and put you in the middle of a mostly darkened room.  we sit in the dark and tell you the truth about yourself until you break.  then you are warmed, washed, and put to sleep in a warm clean bed amongst appropriate warm critters.  i suspect when i go through this process, the pile of people and animals in which i will rest will resemble the contents of noah’s ark and multi-generational benetton ads. my sister collected them from magazines.  magazines are like still tv.  more terrifying, being available in visible piles.  i used to collect those.

• http://youtu.be/XFFT6YfX6jk
• http://youtu.be/GgRj3zZGxJk
• http://youtu.be/hLmsiBD9Cec

Alan Watts says, [to our society,] “expressions of physical love are far more dangerous than expressions of violence” he’s a smart guy.  another one is called “never watch the television.”  and i am tending to agree with it.  “you’re played like a harp.”

i have eaten toast today.  it is cold and rainy outside.  my destiny is watching Alan Watt on [sports] the internet.  alpha state.  we agree to be sane.  ha.  the commentators think these (watt and watts) are two different people.  i don’t know what to think.

I’m watching Derrick Jensen now, but i think he confuses taking responsibility with judgment of our participation in the consumer end of the process.  It’s in the playlist war.  he talks about a lot of things.  he’s not very optimistic, and i agree with most of what he says.  much like most authors, he doesn’t expand as much on what “resisting” or “fighting back” is.  local food seems to be a last stronghold.  Monsanto has continued the trend of decimating/deforesting the planet, at the seed level.  he discusses that, too.  he also address access to land.

• http://news.slashdot.org/story/11/11/08/220244/technical-glitch-lets-reporters-eavesdrop-on-obama-sarkozy
• http://www.theawl.com/2011/11/a-conspiracy-of-hogs-the-mcrib-as-arbitrage
• http://youtu.be/HTnEGk2HSLc

ahahahahahaha.  you are way too mean of a drunk for us not to be family.  related.  whatever.  oh, you wanna be like blood brothers? like movie style?  i’m far too good at survival to make almost killing myself a thing, but we could like make a sharp pointy thing and like high-five it at the same time.  our bloods would inevitably mix, as if they haven’t already.  i have no fear of your reality, nor of all the things you fear that are a part of some future imagined reality.  get out of your head, terror-bot!  or stay.  don’t gotta yell about it.  oh, apparently you do.  that alone should tell you something.  civilized animals can communicate without making a sound.  the time of the brutes is come to pass.  spoke the raven, nevermore.

whenever i think i ought to read the news of the world, i start writing.  my shit stinks plenty, but relative to your processed gmo carnivorous barely-ever shits, mine smell like roses.  ok, beans rice and paprika.  they packed all the other spices i use.  they’ve never acted like we were a unitary household.

as a violence hunter, i go into this place of terrified shock and fear.  utter paranoia.  then i search for, attract, bring out those loving souls who are all, “goddDDDAAMMIT!!!! QUIT FEELING NOT SAFE!!!!” and i’m on my way out the door laughing.  awakening dictator is useful for a variety of reasons, but it’s dangerous if you’re not me.  dictator is the most contemplative protector i have yet to run across.  when you stop watering plants, they send their roots deeper to find enough water.  this could save them later in the season.  so they tell me.  sounds like that loses a lot of energy, and how does restricting essential processes do anything but cause injury.  healed areas are stronger than the pre-break point, but less sensitive as well.  sometimes numb.

unless he’s physically/emotionally broken/exhausted, he still puffs his chest to push me away to end a hug.  in one sense, it’s a mechanical means of separation.  in another, it’s his statement of disapproval, of inappropriateness, or maintaining his manly appearance.  you’re the only one who gives a fuck.

here’s the thing.  i don’t believe in awful people.  your acts are awful.  you are all sweethearts.  i have seen you eating, playing, and being kind to one another.  get over your competitive selves, especially when you’re with those with whom you share food.  oh, you compartmentalize internally also, don’t you.

i seek warm lodging for the winter months.  i have an RV, with propane heater, and i would like an indoor place to park it.  i was told that i’m allowed to stay here until mid-december, but he continues “hinting” at me moving my things out of here.  don’t ever wonder why i want things in writing.  because you’re all lying, backstabbing, over-committing sacks of crap who don’t understand the urgency of homelessness when the show is blowing.  all i ask is that you quit claiming that you care, and quit giving me your smash/grab/hate advice when you have never opened your mind wide enough to begin to understand that which i love.

hypothetical, if i were to put my property under this cooperative arrangement, how would it go.  we’d first establish the terms of the land trust.  yep, even if it’s a 10-by-10 chunk of your yard.  there will be a boilerplate contract that will work itself into the database.  the types of connections we have to individuals’ or businesses’ properties will be as varied as they are.  some will allow us onsite only during daylight hours.  others will encourage us to build four-season human infrastructure to house work crews to completely transform the property.  then, when we’re finished, we’ll all have that infrastructure to use as we see fit.  it might take a month.  it might take 10 years.  it really depends on how elaborate we want to get.  if personality conflicts arise, we can sub people out.  some people gotta keep moving.  my internal GTFO starts up after about a week now, amongst this adorable lot of backstabbing prudes.  you don’t want me around for very long if i’m unaccompanied.  if i am under the control of a skilled handler, i’m highly productive.  starving, cold, and lonely?  your standards of decency are so royally fucked, i can’t even talk to you right now.

goes to get more coffee.  11:15 am on Wednesday.

well, those who have offered space are not following through with anything.  delays and doubts.  i’m going to get all of my money out of the bank, fill up my rv with essentials, and drive south.  i don’t even have a place to park my car.  this planet is so heartless.  it makes me ache.  why do we have to go through this every time.  why must you crush pleasant expectations that you created in the first place?

that’s not what happened.  doubts are little no’s.  yes, everyone always back off and turns them into questions, but the harm has already been done.

you are always free to invite me again, but your inaction and my non-pursuit means the offer has expired.  it’s still snowing.

i was re-invited, with conviction.  third light flicker.  better post this before i lose my connection.

see ya on the flipside,
t

you know how i know i’m not there yet?  because i’m not able to be surrounded by snuggly people all day.  i am going to have to house and feed all of them, aren’t i.  these are the ones you leave to die by their own wiles and call it “tough love,” huh?

when you feel guilty or angry as the result of new information, that is not the place to stop.  keep going.  what about what was said caused any guilt or anger?  or was it only discomfort?  in that case, you’re probably babbling incoherently about something only tangentially related and wasting everyone’s time.  i’ll be busy until you’re done.

oh, hey, your tv puts far worse violence and offensiveness right in your face, and you don’t cut it off.  you’re loyal as ever.  you should talk, youtube junkie.  right?  there are no innocents, but then again, there are no offenders.  no pain, no foul.  growing pains are an inevitable part of life.  ha!

proposal:  combining the concepts of occupying foreclosed homes, the conscious decision to not use corporate products AT ALL, except where required for construction of safe and legal domiciles for the new breed of humans who emerge from this process.  each of you must get through your thick, violence-scarred skulls, this constant action of welcoming new ideas and incorporation of those with your existing database of expertise, whether memory, habit, skill, network, or healing ability.  you must know in your heart of hearts that each and every human participant has been through this same twisted hell that is “western” “capitalist” society, where we are abused like factory-handled meat animals.  we can put all of us to productive roles, with local “oversight” of our own activities.  we share techniques, and the legal/password/justifications/budgets so the remaining strict ego/male/dominance/fascist/scientist-minded of us shall have that part of them accepted and reasoned with as the perfectly legitimate and useful personality type that it is.  we must all find that part of us to help each of us clear the fearful cobwebs out of the inner reaches of our minds and shine a light on our full potential.

here, just read selected portions of my blog whenever you wish i was somewhere.  then all the cruel, disappointed faces get deflected off into the ether, and the overjoyous smileage will be shared amongst the commons.

did i ever tell you the story about how i got into hip hop?  i shoulda.  it’s a doozy.  my sister was dating an African man.  i forced myself to confront my fear and discomfort in learning a new language/style, and i found a bunch of really cool, smart people with amazing music.  is that it?  wasn’t there some big statement about race relations and being able to get past the fascist programming past through your geographic and information networks?  maybe, but that matters so little.  let’s focus our attention and efforts on the good things that are happening, and they are.

how about this?  give me space in a field.  a flat spot, where i can use the scraps from the greenhouse to build a structure where i can work on my rv in the winter.  passive solar, using glass from the old greenhouse.  it’ll be a dome-shape, and it will be covered with plastic, vegetation, and soil.

i’m giving you all an opportunity to use my labor for a temporary need of mine that you will then have to use whenever you want.  pick one.  let’s get started on the design or call an architect.  i know a few.  we’ll start with the phone book. the people i know are non-communicative, so the network must be expanded to speaking humans.  e-mail is speaking.  letters are speaking.  what does the means of text delivery matter?  must i really listen to your egoful voice as well as have my attention directed towards those awful things that you see?  no, use your words.  in person, you use your volume, and you use unrelated personal attacks.  oh, they’re related?  who exactly would be my customers for that kind of thing.  anyone, everyone.  the fashion of which you speak is not yet popular.  you’re kidding, right?  cutting edge is by definition unpopular.  razor’s edge is even more of a challenge than a tightrope/plank walk.

if i were given the floor, i would spend most of it in silence.  this has been the case before.  coffee is out again.  we have more writing to do.  design this temporary structure you’re talking about.  k.  after the basic structure, branches and other tree parts will be used to round out the shape.  more of a bell curve than a dome.  we’re going to cover it with blankets and plastic and insulation, with an insulated sun-catcher window.  maybe more than one.  if it’s greenhouse glass, maybe a wall.  yes, we like glass walls.  watch the wasteoid at work.  we’ll hook up our goodwill popcorn machine and yes fooding is an essential part of the process.  bringing a gallon of water in a foodsafe receptacle is a sign of goodwill.  designing in spaces to heat these water pods into the structure?  pfs.

ok, coffee time.  1:37 pm.

fuckin’ a.  i don’t even like those pants any more.  they have always been too big.  so fix them how you like them.  i’d like them stretchy.  go find you some tall girl pants at goodwill.  yessir.

the armor still needs fixin.  do those, or bike.  it’s 45 farehnhoozits out of the doors.  all the more reason, you thin-blooded pansy.  what do flowers have to do with this?  oh, they attract beneficials.  just because an entity or life form eats smaller life forms doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing, in fact the opposite.  time after time, a healthy predator population is essential for the functioning of natural law.  i don’t make the rules, but i do direct your attention to those things which i point at, don’t i?  that one’s rhetorical.  as if any of you ever answer questions on here or realize that all of my proposals are quite honest and real.  i do that which allows for a trail in my wake.  the cutter has to spin its blades, if we’re electrifying things as we seem to be.  what if we could fold the structure and carry it on a trailer or on top of the home itself.  excellent idea.

i don’t remember all of the lyrics to skyscaper.  it’s mean.  i will check the interwebs.

hey look! old entries from when this blog was less shittyJ

• http://lazyasswasteoid.wordpress.com/2011/08/21/itiw/
• http://lazyasswasteoid.wordpress.com/2010/08/25/the-italick-y-1/
• http://lazyasswasteoid.wordpress.com/2011/08/14/on-maintenance/
• and the one i was looking for, with the song i want to learn:
• http://lazyasswasteoid.wordpress.com/2010/08/15/an-open-letter-re-skyscaper/

money.

here’s the text, of the LazyAssWasteoid composition skyscaper, written 2/20/2010, edited to its current form today (2011-11-02):

I know shit about shit
pompous fucking nothing
authoritative to a zom-bee
who ain’t known why it anything

skyscaper

circling car-casted, terri/atro f/phied
poisonous addictions r all that sustain our lives
zero parts per google in my belly
chosen fuel reflects intent – big empty

your lifestyle disgusts me

it don’t be leavin’ @Nu-age mambla-jambla
sustain-bullizing cross-referential
beneficio-late/ing
love you all.

skyscaper

those two “skyscaper”s weren’t in the original, which i think i wrote at the elbow room, or within the slightly safer, slightly less public confines of my legally rented residence, the poison-field oasis.  it’s not as bad as that.  they know more about growing things than you do.  let us help one another.  they have not seen self-motivated conscious individuals working together before.  it’s a new experience for the first time, eh?  it gets easier every time.  you think this song is mean?  wait’ll you hear me sing it.  oh, right.  so, guitar chords, then?  duh.  how else to we song?  like, with movement.  stomps.  crunching pizza.  we do lots of ways.  we never stop, really.  but the circles we move in, you must pay very close attention.

songing.  the most recent is my favorite.  but this skyscaper shit is epiccer than this. eppicenteringer?  epicentralizing. de-epicentralizinating?  gag and bore me, indeed.

this pesto is fucking delicious.  i had some on toast earlier, and then i put a dollop in the beans and rice.  deliciosoh!

so it’s 4:20, and dictator tells us we’re recording another version of what’s the point, since we’ve got the recording apparatus set up.  you mean sound forge open, microphone activated, and guitar out?  exactly.  complex infrastructure, this recording biz.  i’m still getting inpirations from the i like trains kid.  i like trains.  they mix well, also.

well, that turned into a video!  crimeny.  all this work i make for myself. 4:39 pm

72% rendered at 5:26 pm.  are we gonna upload all that audio, too?  skyscaper is the b-side for what’s the point?  do not call it a cd maxi-single.  oh cripes too late.

wtp² + skyscaper¹ + LazyAssWasteoidº = 0

“recording now. gettin’at?”
recorded 2011-11-02 in our bedroom
“duh, those are the two songs that i d’ave so far. two.”

first song writed itself back in twenty ten. actually, the second, which is the same as the first, did as well as the third, which is different, and only recently got mixded upp wiffa chordiness.  part of us knows howz this all goze, but mostly naught.

lyrics to “what’s the point” (chorded GDC)
i’mma freak in cities full of ‘em
so what the fuck am i doing here?
moshing with high schoolers, and drinking locals’ beer

a permanent outsiders’ luck
guarantees no random fuck
so what’s the point?
wtp?

in a town so full of angels
playing demon scares ‘em off
the irony is lost, and i’m home jacking off

the most conservative liberals this side of the D.N.C.
but once this shit breaks and y’all know my name
thissa where i’ll wanna be

for all the luck i’ve had, i ought to have spent it on a whore
fuck the good or the bad, i just need one open door.

what’s the point?

“what do you think of that one? hahahahaha. I know.  ??? should i play skyscaper as long as i’m recording you guys? (gets all squeaky)”

the next song is clearly called “skyscaper” and is chorded EGA

[see lyrics to “skyscaper” above]

(/songs) mostly i sing that one wrong.  whatevers the fucks.

well, regardless, i love you a lots.
t

p.s. http://bit.ly/skyscaper has more hints.

and others:
http://www.lawofone.info/results.php?category=Archetypical+Mind
http://www.grist.org/food/2011-11-02-confessions-of-a-big-food-executive

• http://english.aljazeera.net/programmes/earthrise/2011/10/2011102793927343187.html
• http://www.ncdf.coop/
• http://midwiferytoday.com/articles/maternitycare.asp
• http://lifehacker.com/5854632/make-pickles-in-your-refrigerator
• http://thenotsoskinnybaker.wordpress.com/2011/07/29/refrigerator-pickles/
• http://earthship.com/blog/1066-school-in-sierra-leone-inspires-us-all-over-again

oglibations.  obigliations.  orgibbly mayshuns?  cripes, no.

i used that word today.  this is good.  i’m not a blogger.  i’m a homeless, single digit supporter politician who happens to blog.  big difference.  bloggers get paid.  i carry heavy shit.  whatever the fuck.

http://www.redbullmusicacademy.com/people/jamie-woon

i sludge go tasleeps, for ‘cuz a work in the morning.  i can eat in the car on my lunch break.  or, when i get to the greenhouse.  that’s the place to linger.

the how about this.  your credit is no good with me.  if you don’t have the money to pay me, and won’t tell me when, whatever.  what do you care?  if you’re not paying down a bank loan, you’re not a consumer.  and you got a job besides that stash in the bank?  while people are starving in the streets?  oink.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Four_Temperaments

i should sleep.  working sooner, and i need to get up early enough to do coffee this morning.  yes, please.  yummers.  g’night.  you too.  sleep well.

all too http://www.theonion.com/articles/remains-of-ancient-race-of-job-creators-found-in-r,26490/ sad

i don’t get it. are you practicing to be in the army? you’re telling people what to do, for reasons and in ways they don’t understand. what is the end of all of this? what do you hope to accomplish? those people spend their lives trying to kill you and lying about it. why do you give _them_ the time of day when actual work needs doing? your addictions are avoidance. FIX YOUR OWN WORLD. nobody is going to do it for you.

• http://dukesgaragellc.com/
• http://www.electric-cars-are-for-girls.com/dukes-garage-electric-car-conversions.html
• http://abcnews.go.com/Technology/back-future-delorean-plans-electric-car/story?id=14761822
• http://www.electric-cars-are-for-girls.com/electric-cars-blog.html
• http://midwestpermaculture.com/2011/10/design-tools-calculating-the-suns-path/
• http://www.electric-cars-are-for-girls.com/dc-motor-controller.html

if you open sourced the whole thing, the distinction amongst political strongholds would crumble.  everyone would be left naked and hungry, surrounded, as they truly are on planet retard slave, with other previously utterly dependent creatures who had no means of foraging the toxic waste dumps left behind by their previous masters.

• http://www.printedelectronicsworld.com/articles/worlds-first-energy-storage-membrane-00003806.asp?sessionid=1
• http://www.nyteknik.se/nyheter/energi_miljo/energi/article3284823.ece

i just finished the last quarter of “The World According to Monsanto” and posted it on FB.  i’m now watching a video on lucid dreaming.

i’m cold, and alone.  i’m not alone.  youtube keeps me company.  the spaces are so partitioned off, and where can i go where people are snuggling all the time?  that’s all i need.  people with kids get this, but not even married couples do.  arm’s length.  in that movie, the farmers fromindiawould lean on one another, touch one another.  one could say “this is not a sexual thing!” but it’s a human thing, a survival thing, a mammal thing.  sex is all of those things anyway.  the repression of it is one of the most harmful abuses of this “society.”  you can joke about it all you want, but that is a means of maintaining the horrible hierarchy/violence, so expect me to react as if you punched me in the face.  you may not condemn the actions of others any more.  stop.

• http://www.ramshackleglory.com/
• http://ramshackleglory.bandcamp.com/

yay! new ptb music!  few things make me happier.  i sent love via the internet.  that’ just how i do.  ✺✾✿❀❁❝∴∞ⁿ❞ ✩¶✍☀❂☯♥❦♡✇☥☮

these entries are all out of order, not to mention not posted.  yeah, that’s ok.  posting all of one’s thoughts publicly is more work than you could imagine.  don’t pretend to know anything about me.  i’m not.  i’m trying to find my etheric homies.  my karass.  my team.  i’m not destined to go through this life alone, and those who reject me do so with unwavering, un-reasoning silence.

if i had done a bunch of the legal work, legwork, computer work, nobody would have accepted that anyway.  this beast must be built by those who use it.  who else will understand the intricacies of its operations.  and, my version would have a “work-to-talk” ratio that would allow me to avoid any non-romantic/physical interaction with people.  what’s the point in me letting you waste my time when there’s so much work to do.  oh, my company is an additional benefit?  why am i not credited for that?  and, to whom is it a benefit?  everyone.  that’s why i don’t get paid.  you do get paid.  you just had to finish making this massive and critically essential point to the entire fucking universe.  every fucking thing i say is serious.  y’all have patterned your lives off of the activities of for-profit entitites, many of which happen to be corporations, but the form of the business doesn’t really matter.  to whit: cooperatives can be formed as corporations.  these are all legal fictions.  screaming about one brand or another of a for-profit entity is as blind as racism.  the profit motivation is the essential element.  once you see that, it becomes apparent in all kinds of businesses, and in individuals themselves.  how they relate to social interactions.  what’s in it for me?  no, you’re a part of the whole.  how can you just chunk off a segment of anything like that?  100% is the only way that cooperation can happen.  if you’re excluding 1% from the conversation, you’re that 1%.  fucking reactionaries.  imagine the system in place that would not have you foaming at the mouth and chanting violently into the ether.  imagine that kindness and feeding ability.

aww.  lonely dj calls for callers.  how adorably quaint.

• http://goodmenproject.com/featured-content/addicts-are-super-human/
• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Muggle_Quidditch
• http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g1T71PGd-J0&feature=related

it’s now 12:41 am on Monday, November 07, 2011. i’m going to sleep.