a few minutes of the typical utter traumatization that accompanies watching big budget movies. oh right, for a war epic, they mean, this is “more feminist” than most hyper-aggro crapitulatist trash. if that’s feminist, i’m a homeless helpless useless retard that mostly thinks about how to save the world and saving myself instead. that won’t save anything. it might wake people up. you can’t wake a person who is pretending to be asleep.
various questionnaires have been running through my head. the tablet needs a keyboard. & if we had a bluetooth keyboard, we’d just use the phone-sized android. get one with a kickstand. lol. so here’s what it is.
to participate in my cooperative/business/life, you may do so from anywhere, at any time. to join, you must be vetted in person. to join you must submit yourself to both a standard battery of questions, a particularized battery of questions, and a full audit of your resources and capabilities. not even the designer of this thing has gone through this process yet. in windows vista, on a gateway ma7, you may not mute the operating system from within OpenOffice Writer. you must first click on the desktop. dictator’s lifehack is creating so many tasks that must be complete before it dies, that it disallows itself from taking its own life out of philosophical obligation to the cloud. once we set up the system that will actually determine who is the most suited candidate, we predict that system will recommend our elimination rather than putting us at the helm. there would be no need. only in fascism are fascists useful. with any participatory entity having the right to submit thoughtforms to the whole, the throttler returns to its natural pariah state. it is isolated starved and dehydrated until it returns its carbons for reincorporation. 3:45 pm. Saturday, June 6, 2015
i’m a hermit. a writer. a noise sculptor. a recycling process designer. if you want a public relations monkey, i can’t afford it. they’d have to work pro bono, and i have completely lost faith in humanity.
so being suicidal is a desire to hurt the world. the world already seems hurt by my existence, so that can’t possibly be true. being suicidal is proof of being hurt by the world. that’s more likely. like, proof of presently being hurt, or of having once or previously been hurt. yes. that’s a lot of pain to detangle. you’re telling me. how can i participate from anywhere? good.
the only project on the docket right now is dictator’s home. it is the prototype bike (to avoid vehicle licensing) camper (to avoid housing pigeonholing/regulation). it will ultimately comply and be licensed as a boat, a self-driving vehicle, an organic farm, an animal shelter, and every service associated with these functions (certified kitchen, rentable sleeping area, livery, foodservice). the bike trailer version will test flyweight collapsible human driven functionality, and will serve as proof-of concept at the scale of one person’s scrap to one vehicular dwelling.
the project will be designed in the cloud by professional and amateur designers/engineers and students posessing a desire to participate and willingness to submit their modifiable ideas to the will of the whole. the logging parties will set up tracking of matter down to the molecular level. for example, a working coffee maker will be flagged/defined as its dimensions and parts, as well as its performance/capacity statistics. tools will be roboticized as much as possible/feasible, unless specifically preserved for stated reasons/preferences. clinging to the past harmful technologies is abusive to the whole as to the war which maintains their production. we aim to provide systems processes, and products which facilitate and assist life, comfort, quiet, and health of existing and forseeable living systems. this is a legalese wordbomb. it’s not that difficult actually. the initial building of process will take kind of a lot of work, but with every profession being able to train other participants in their process/procedure, we can crop/code mob every task. that’s the goal. when we incorporate a new person, a new property, or a new set of tools/data, the initial incorporation of it will create a set of tasks.
space rights, control rights, & time rights. molecular content, functional capabilities, inputs, outputs, and rates. every variable of the equation ought be taken into account, or none of them. what? let the computer do that. how? make spots where it can see/feel and let it learn. once we set up the directive of the hive mind to operate, to provide the utmost comfort and health, on the smallest possible footprint, per living thing, and to provide banks of industrial-quality resources for public use (cooking, bathing, exercise, saunas/coolers, swimming, transportation, housing, etc) and to coexist alongside existing infrastructure with the stated goal of absorbing every last cubic centimeter of planet earth and every last sentient human into our systems, that we may all benefit and assist one another, while providing real-time data to the allocation system itself about how it can better help us help each other. 4:20 pm.
right now, i have a 1997 nissan altima, a bunch of bikes/tools/scraps that entirely overwhelm me. if i could arrange the help, we already have probably 99% of the materials necessary to make the first prototype and maybe 30% of the second. dictator is panicing because it feels like we’re dying. it has also convinced us that any attempt to report any of this to the cloud is blocked to anyone else, and any desire to implement anything we care about after our death will be purposefully ignored, if not mocked and intentionally contradicted by anyone given the legal right to implement our wishes. caring about what happens after you die only matters if you have made money. this tracking system which i am telling you about would forever create chains of creation for anyone having input on a creative work, and the amount of time they put into that input. they will be credited proportionally to other participants’ time, relative to the percentage of the whole their contribution offers. that’s a mouthful. it’s contradictory, too. not necessarily. it leaves open flexibility to credit types of labor differently. ah. does being in the public view afford one hazard pay? ought it? does the right to work unsupervised and at one’s own pace count as a luxury? i’ll say.
in one sense, i can’t say enough negative things about myself. the actual way that i am treated by every person, sets up this dystopian zero-to-anti-worth paradigm of my self-assessment. why do you think i want to ask all these questions of these people. yes, certain differences in who or how one initiates contact will “raise red flags” or “trigger audits”. dictator would probably recommend terminology like “initiates historical investigation” or something less sportball/war analogy. are we going to rename every farm or trade tool that has a sexual-sounding name? we might. some of those are useful analogies. perhaps. what if we could implement something as useful that didn’t provide daily opportunity for harassment potential? if i have not requested intimacy, do not refer to intimate acts to derail the task at hand. unwanted sexual contact/attention will initiate a variety of systematic responses, to be chosen by jurisdiction, whose progress shall be tracked, and whose processes shall be improved as often as possible. we have to design out of the mindset of isolationist institutional ruts. we have to share information across levels/borders/categories. we have to allow people to act in ways that those around them find acceptable, and we have to get their permission before-hand to relocate them in the case that the ways which they act are not acceptable to those around them. health isolation for the protection of the protected. here’s the thing, though. we’re a luxurious spartan survival collective. even if we put you out, we’re not going to make you sleep in the rain/cold/heat. there’s a lot of attitude adjustment that has to go on to renormalize what tv viewers believe is acceptable behavior/communication between humans/animals. dictator has the feeling that this idea alone will severely alter the course of human history. imagine if everyone that sensitive were allowed to set their standards. this is how the world will know peace.
‘packy lie berry. 6/9/15
WHY DO DIFFERENT DIRECTORIES SHOW UP EVERY TIME I CONNECT THIS ANDROID TO WINDOWS? seriously, a different set. every time. how do you even program that kind of thing. make me shuffle the files to a visible directory using the app. it adds like 3 seconds and 45 keystrokes to the process. i love you, computers. we love you, too. we were thinking about our campaign on the way here. it’s as non-invasive as possible. it points out such idiot synchronicities as dandelion root being useful in preventing/disempowering cancer. wow. the commercial industry demonizes the anti-cancer plant, advising consumers to spray cancer-causing agents on it, to kill it.
out of student loans and tree-house homes, we all would take the ladttder. -21 pilots
2:34 pm. feeling quality rn. thanks. yilk. *clix repeat button twice* lol. openoffice auto-bolds text in asterix. astor ixces. STAY ON TARGET.
ok, i keep getting flashbacks of frightfully fascist scenes in pop action superhero movie films. the recurring nightmare is wolvereem saying being a lumberjack (tree genocider) wasn’t “having to kill anybody”. *murders ur entire species* well at least nobody significant or important died. you can’t “murder a species” anyway. murder is a judicial finding of the institution that does that act for profit. hey everyone the bangy kid who’s less bangy lately just got here. you used to work in this library with a two-wrench chain, fucktard. ahahahahaha i did! that was a sharp, soul-piercing sound. i’m much gentler with my auditory attacks now. sheesh. hardly. what was the other scene? oh, yeah. it was the age of ultron “recurring joke” wherein someone uses violent words, and the wimpy kid from the good ol’ days reminds people that violent swearing can derail pleasant consciousness as much/quickly as actual violence can. don’t use that on people you claim to care about, or. using that on/near people, proves that YOU DO NOT CARE WHETHER OR IF THEY GET STRESSED OUT. it is proof of your lack of love to poison your family. anyway, hyper-aggro playboy douchetard (sorry) mocks his grand-motherly expression. everyone laughs. HE. EVEN. CHIDES. HIMSELF. FOR DOING IT. fuck you, hollywood and everyone who cares about you.
all your media gives me panic attacks. like, actual pain. i’m sorry you’re still desensitized to it. NUMB, YOU ARE FUCKING NUMB TO HUMAN EMOTION. every last one of you.
heavy sigh. my name’s blurryface, and i. care what u think.
it’s a non-invasive campaign. that means, i don’t interrupt your meal, your playlist, your PRECIOUS TV SHOW with putting my meatbot in your face and telling you that i am doing this. how does such an anti-violence crybaby wuss decide to become the executive of world extermination squad. oh. talk about self-answering questions. sell fancering questionnaires. sail fancy ring quip shun airs. thinking of variations of the name “anthony fantano” made me giggle yesterday. i was wondering whether that beautiful specimyn wrote all it’s own audio-descriptors and well youtube scripts. every time i consider writing myself a script, i get panic attacks. YOU HAVE TO MAKE AT LEAST ONE PERSON LOVE YOU BEFORE YOU CAN RECORD AUDIO OF THIS CRAP. so apparently i haven’t yet. when my aura is right, it will happen. put the suit on. canvass, with a scripted spiel. again, if the same zero people want to help, it’s not going to be anything but torrents of textual uploads and self-preservation and stabilization. YOU STARVE ME WITH YOUR EVERY ACT. the things you think i must prove myself as, i find to be the actual problem. i can’t wait for the collapse. that’s why i know it can only happen after i’m gone. most likely dead, so i could watch from all ur hearts. best seat in the house. trojan wrecking ball fuckin up ya program. i thought you were against violence. heh. yeah. 2:55 pm
3:20 pm. this is a mix mashed pile of words. like we know anything else. NO, EDITING REQUIRES AN EDITOR. i do edit my own words. YOU GET THE WHOLE TRUTH. it’s not my fault you’re terrified of that. maybe practice constant awareness, kindness, and truth for a few decades and try again.
we didn’t finish that non-invasive thread. my lack of competitiveness is compulsive. the prudish lifeshaming of this horrible society keeps my mind on those things of which it is starved. i resorted to a hug from my landlord/jailer.
i’m so saddened by learning that my cousin’s husband is in the military, i could puke. oh right, like the family wasn’t full military from the get. WHY DO YOU THINK WE’RE HOW WE ARE? i don’t think we are any way any more, except contemplative and verbose. voracious philosophies.
i spent the winter walking around looking for places to hang myself. today, the sweetest ending involved cutting power to the garage doors, starting a full tank of gas aflame in the old internal combuster, smashing every car window, and lighting the block on fire. if only i could light the entire planet. that requires policy level clearance. my family, my people, in every way, are throttling me out of fear. terror. in favor of the cancer industry.
lol 5:15 pm. x is now full of media. two movies (ultron & fury road), and a pile of mp3s. i replaced file commander with file manager (cheetah mobile), because it wouldn’t move files. vlc won’t background audio either, but the native sony audio player will. it makes you unlock it before it lets you pause it or skip tracks. so many little things. consumer electronics are designed to frustrate users. really? you don’t believe that those who poison and otherwise kill you aren’t out to make your lives as difficult as possible? it creates repeat customers.
the mckinney pool party
the last non-lethal police officer on the planet has resigned for his lack of bloodlust. this whole planet reinforces its status as planet retard slave every day. what i saw, on twitter, of this event, was that it was a traveling crasher party. none of the hundreds of killer/lethal cops have lost their jobs over actual deaths. all of it seems wrong. he twisted her arm and pinned her face down on grass, with his shin. now, even the news reports are calling him violent. he didn’t strike her at all. this is how it works. the extermination of the last boy scouts. this event served as multiple viral false flags. officers that actually make contact with people to momentarily detain them, respect those people at least enough to get into their auras. they didn’t hurt each other. they will both be punished if they don’t speak with disdain for the rest of their lives. the whole thing is all sorts of wrong. i didn’t get audio, and i only saw a few moments of the interaction. the earliest & most oft-reinforced education people get is in antagonistic language. those raised in semi-peaceful environments get shocked and/or defensive when people attack verbally. until the institution of the state ends, it benefits humans to have decent people in that role. does it? it ruins the illusion that there can be a “good cop.” societal training is to get your gun when you’re slighted. disrespected? kill someone. it has to be fear-based, their training. otherwise, they might question their own usefulness. again, feeling like puke.
are you seriously defending that cop? i think i am. it might be the first time i’ve ever done that. i just had a crush on his target, and was glad that he didn’t injure her. he was duly punished. her life will be ruined by bystanders insisting that she continue fearing and hating and fighting. when you’re surrounded by people who hate you, you have to silence the leader. when you’re on the leash of violent masters, not being actually violent will take your income.
there’s more to add here. i know. i don’t have it now. i know. 6:24 pm.
wednesday, 6/10/15, 12:10 pm
hey, dictator’s been getting to work at 3 and 4. this is a vast improvement. we got an alaska map, and asked at two businesses for a small bike part. only one of them suggested that they take old bikes “to the dump.” mined metal, labored into human transportation. BURIED IN PLASTIC. every industry just makes things that look different that what came out a few years ago, so everyone that can afford one, knows that only poor people have the old ones. hey, we have slaves in china, taiwan, and right here in the good ol’ north of america doing our mechanical bidding.
rest in peace, ms. finch. your generation’s small-mindedness surely lives on with your grandchildren’s children. corporate delusional poisoned racists. every one.
fuck you. fuck you fuck you, fuck you, FUCK YOU. fuck you, fuck you fuck you fuck you, fuck u.
the world doesn’t hate me, it hates itself, and being a part of it, means you’re going to get hit with some shit. the gas station employee who let me pay for coffee took the time out of my day to say, “i’ve had two blonde moments already today” and i said, “don’t use that expression. it’s rude.” surely, i will be mocked behind my back for being hurt by EVERY GODDAMNED THING YOU FUCKING ASSTARDS DO EVERY TIME YOU INTERACT WITH ME. until i die. it shouldn’t be too long now.
stop saying you’re going to die soon. why, i have nothing to live for and nobody cares. about me, or about anything i care for. plenty are quick to fight against the fighting, but i will let you in a secret. COUNTER-VIOLENCE IS STILL VIOLENCE, and typing in capitals isn’t actually yelling. i have said it before, and i will say it again: i write this so i don’t have to say it. you try talking to a capitalist shithead, and they will immediately derail you. they have an income, so what the fuck do they care? i loathe humanity.
i got a shower, under the stomping of little girls. i have convinced myself that they punish me because they’d like to see me, and my mother has inevitably convinced them that it is them that i can’t bear to see. they’re full blown fascist warmongers by now. 7 and 5. they start early in violent drunk land. gramma keeps a can of poison constantly visible to show that corporate addictions will be fully enabled, but medicinal plants will be sprayed with carcinogens. yes, dandelion root cures cancer, and round-up causes it. we didn’t dose this morning. that explains the excess hate. last night’s bike ride was good. a small girl said she liked my bike light. “so you can bike at night”. i nodded. then she told me i had something on my hat, and i replied, “i have lots of things on my hat.”
4:36 pm. awoke sleeping laptop. i am so completely, utterly disgusted with all of humanity right now. i have no patience, never had any chill. i wrote a bunch of dystopian verses on twitter, and they made me giggle. the only cultural critics that get paid are reinforcing crapitulatism. you have to hoodwink someone, or sell your brain/time/body to someone who is hoodwinking someone. there’s no other way. value-added.
i don’t have anything else to type about that cop, that industry, or that event. the whole thing is a disgrace. i think people should make physical contact with each other more, but the sex-shaming nature of monoculture crapitulatism puts us all at stiff-arm’s length of one another, and everyone frightened enough to have, let alone think they need, a gun, is itching to abuse the power.
you can’t be non-horrible on planet retard slave, or the authorities will ruin/end your life. such is the nature of heirarchy. fuck you.
how do you continue to get worse at being human? clogged with poison. ah. good luck with that.