over-tau(gh)t

over-tau(gh)t

something ain’t right.  “my” room is clean as a whistle, but my head is a mess.  less now than it was last night, but still.

hey, i’m back in one of my old tweeting rooms.  i probably said some semi-popular stuff here.  most of that was in point, huh?  you weren’t paying that close of attention, were you.  that’s ok.  neither was i.

speaking of point, the storm we had caused a 23-hour power outage in point, on a near-100 degree day.  had i been there, i wouldn’t have had a/c anyway.  i’d a been awful lonesome tweeting blindly on my texting device, but i probably would have had a lot of useful neighborly things to do.  does anybody do any neighborly things any more?  it sure doesn’t feel like it.  after living in small-mind-world for a while, this small-town mentality can wear on you.  good thing i stick to a strict coffee/pot/internet regimen to keep my mind limber.  limburger?  you are cheesy.  hate me.  i dare you.

food.

i just scarfed, nay, inhaled three eggs over medium (they weren’t quite, but easy does it), hash browns, and wheat toast with butter.  noticed that the ketchup here is made from tomatoes now.  nice to see.  next step is to grow your own tomatoes and package your own.  ha.  that’s the “calling it a co-op” part.  even when you aren’t the one who is actually doing something like that, it can still be “your” tomatoes.  it’s going to change a lot of the legality of food production when it’s a coop.  government regulations simply don’t apply to food you make for yourself.  this is not to say we won’t adhere to standards.  we will, however, set our own, and they will be much more stringent, meaningful, understood, and willfully followed than any draconian law could ever be.  that’s kind of the idea.

isolation chamber commence.  ringbearer sequence.  brain dump.

i don’t want to go to the reunion.  i don’t want to be around anyone, ever, really.  that was the whole idea of this camper.  it’s annoying enough that i’m going to have to talk a farmer into trading labor for the right to camp out on a corner of a field somewhere.  no, nobody i’ve yet met.  they’re scared of me.  my own family is scared of me.  there’s nothing for me here.

if you’re scared of another human because of the kind of music they like, i feel bad for you.  that’s like telling someone who to be attracted to.  it just doesn’t work that way.  people are drawn to what?  who the hell knows?

the pit is essential.  this room will be specifically designed to house/entertain/protect moshing sessions.  i thought about changing my “profession” or “title” to pit fighter.  i’m more of a pit dancer, but the slow people only see me when i make contact.  then, they think i’m fighting.  it’s a vicious cycle.

whooo! filled a page with nothing/shit.  fun.

that album is short and sweet.

here’s how my brain works:  if you can’t immediately picture the entire thing, or an approximate representation of the final product, from the beginning, then perhaps you shouldn’t be the one doing all the planning and executing.  being the one who “pays the bills” and all, you neither have the time, nor the patience required to be the do-er.

here’s how people contribute to a level society:  most people’s daily life revolves around the growing/cooking/preparation of food.  when the intelligent people are allowed (yes, allowed, you fascist babbly nay-sayers) to install sustainable energy production and mostly labor-free food growing (yeah, automatic watering, etc), the amount of free time gained by humans will rise exponentially.  imagine the strength of a society that works for itself, weaning itself from the low-quality, profit-driven streams of education, information, energy, food, and transportation.  oh, they have a shiny veneer, but do you remember the paper mache dam from the Simpsons?  that’s our entire planet.

i’m sitting in the truck stop.  Waupaca.  didn’t quite make that clear before.  this is my mom’s town.  she e-mailed me, finally, but offered me a cost-free “reading” and a ride to it.  thanks, mom.  way to offer a nick-knack to a homeless person.  way to keep your carbon footprint in check.  hey, thanks for driving away my inheritance.  good times.

this is the trap set for us.  addiction, then draining.  even when you “own” something, you don’t, really.  ye olde king still comes and takes a chunk out your son/daughter, every year.  your willingness to remain within this machine shows you to be the zombie.  all you do is kill any sign of life and transmit the brain-eating virus.

you’re not the worst.  i just feel obligated to tell you for some reason.  this is the benefit my family receives, over and above the unconditional love and respect i give the rest of society.  i explain to them what it is that they do which bothers me.  they do not extend to me the same courtesy.  courtesy.  yep.  this is manners going on.  chivalrous etiquette.

my RV will be my kickstarter.  is that even happening?  yeah, it will, eventually.

what’s immediate?  dude, what has motivated you before?  company.  attention.  let it be.

i don’t understand this roadmap.  this doesn’t explain anything.  it explains everything.  the swear words are essential, vital, and necessary.  you have to be able to stand the scariest person you’ve ever encountered, standing over you, screaming, “I’M SICK OF THIS.  YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE TO GROW UP AND FACE REALITY EVENTUALLY, SO IT MIGHT AS WELL BE NOW!” and realize that i’m not doing it to hurt you.  ok, it might shock you a bit, but that’s exactly what you have to learn how to get past, and quickly.  all of your sacred cows have already been slaughtered.  the pictures that you have of them do not exist in the real world any more, and we hope to ease the transition into this knowledge by obliterating your brain immediately, rather than the slow, agonizing, “small-step” approach advocated by dinosaurs.  they’re only repeating what they’ve been told.  original thoughts haven’t been allowed for a long time, and even when they were, only insofar as they could be hijacked for profit.  if this society were level, if humanity were decent, every person who witnessed tesla’s rise and fall should have known, immediately, that his fate was telling.  such a mind should have immediately been elevated to a position of reverence and decision-making.  he should have been given a budget.  the fate/plight of geniuses is now worse.  they aren’t allowed even the temporary celebrity tesla “enjoyed.”  hits.  views.  and, who knows how accurate the man’s own meters are.  dude doesn’t even fully understand the technology that he implemented, because he stole it every step of the way.  you have to allow the originator, anti-social as they may be, the chance to actually implement an idea.

how it will start:  property is the first step.  upon receiving the donation, the co-op will be established.  tutoring, dog-walking, garden/permaculture planning, and food production will be our primary concerns.  crews will be established for a variety of tasks, and a database of characteristics that society is terrified to acknowledge to itself, we will use these things to match us to one another.

multi-use is the name of the game.  we are all teachers, and we are all students.  we hone our skills and become a roving demolition crew, a portable camp construction brigade, and an off-the-grid design-and-implementation team.  we do this.  we teach each other.  we feed each other, help raise our kids, and assist one another in whatever assistance is required.  the purpose is for this to be your job, but don’t quit your job if you can stand it.  in order to be independent, we will have to cover our cash-costs.

do land rover and apple have a deal?  the ads i’ave seen looks like some “infringement.”  oh that’s what offends you about what i do?  you completely miss the point of all that i do, then, unless you are a soldier of our overlords.  the worst kind of soldiers are the robots.  they’re fully programmed.  is deprogramming a possibility?  so far, it seems not.  are you saying we’re going to dig ourselves up by the root and transplant into more fertile soil?

wanted: municipality, community, or landowner willing to repurpose their property to a land trust for the purpose of creating an organic food production facility, low/zero-income housing, and various public-interaction concepts.  we will socialize animals, provide activities/childcare/tutoring/classes.  in addition, we will continuously convert the nearby lawns info food-producing land.  as our usable dirt-base expands, so will our production capacity.  every participant will be instructed on proper food-handling technique, and provided with in-house produced cleaners, facilities, and techniques suitable for their ergonomics and environment.  if your preference is for the non-sustainable, it will be disregarded.  if you persist, you will be banned/terminated/banished/executed.  all decisions are consensus.  this means one of your kids could block your banishment.  i don’t have kids, and everyone in my family has already banished me.  once this design is set up and my workflow is set, my interaction with humans will be limited.  in other words, if there were an organization which wanted to leverage my usefulness, it would have done so by now.

who are you kidding.  you’re socially intolerable and useless.  stop that.  are you saying?  why are all the “girls” on tv really dudes?  so aggressive, so direct.  i used to be drawn to that in females.  now i abhor it in everyone.  abhor is a strong word.  there’s a part of me that stings as a result of the aggression of strangers.  when it’s family doing so, it feels like having a limb severed.  really, you know what i feel?  hmm.  seems i’ve been telling you different shades of this since forever.

dear guy with the rv that is perfect for me:  part of me wants to work with you, but part of me wants to be gifted this home so mobile.  not by you, or this particular, but one similar.

what is this fascination the world has with “earnest” money?  my every cent has gone into my meager survival, and every waking minute is dedicated to whatever i can muster.  i write, i make video, and i make noises.  i’m trying to find a place in this crazy mixed-up world.  that is all.

jay-z rhymed connect with respect in this girl talk song.  set it off, j.  i have no idea what the name of your original song is, and if you voice and flow are worthy, and if the remixer considers you worthy, they’ll be recognizable through future generations.

i need one of those public relations people like in that Hancock movie.  Will is pretty sour through that film.  wouldn’t you be?  nobody wants to understand.  nobody thinks they can.  well, i’m human, even.  i can’t pick up cars.  i can’t dodge bullets.  i talk.  i type.

do not engage me in competitive conversation.  you will lose.  i disagree with your premise, and i have read numerous documents/authors which entirely discredit most of your information/sources on those topics.

whining is competitive.  helplessness is competitive.  in these competitions, i will crush anyone.  do not engage.

i think i walked out a while ago.  was it in Vegas?  yes.  so, update fromtyler’s memory: he walked out.  there is notyler.  all that’s left is a shell that is periodically inhabited by whoever needs a home.  that’s what’s happening?  can he come back.  not really.  can we stick with more continuity than we’ve had before?  is that what you really want?  a bit of stability would make a lot of this experience easier.  would it?  great.  riddle mode.  your discipline is for shit lately.  you coast under the umbrella of one of the laziest of the lazy, and you entertain rejoining the old #2.  the lazy fuck that was your son killed himself years ago.  he jumped off of the balcony of a hotel inlas vegas.

who the fuck are you, then?  i told you, a rotating cast of essential characters.  rotating?  you think i call it “infinite personality disorder” for its comedic value?  of course.  well, yeah, but it’s telling, too.  didn’ttylercome up with the whole “LAW” concept?  he was out of the picture by the time we headed in that direction.  that pansy couldn’t sustain this.  poor little guy.  he comments occasionally, as a consultant, and to maintain appearances, because his family is one of the most terrified and disconnected batch of gawd-fearing drama/soda addicts.

o’hey. 11:24 am, Waupaca library.  i started my twitter account in this room.  if i ever stop tweeting, it means i failed, and i have died.  initiate global auto-destruct.  nothing left worth saving once i’m gone.

i will have to secure the assistance of a university laboratory.  one capable of machining, plastic extrusion, algae culture, chemical engineering.

attention family: if you offer me a “home” but disallow my pets, friends, and business, you’re not offering me a home, you’re offering me a different cage.  fuck the fuck off.  oh, i forgot, nobody has neighbors any more.  watch, i’ll make myself a suit and wear douchey asshole glasses and a noose say exactly the same things and the exact same people who laugh at me will fall over themselves to give me money.  fucking sheep.

i thought you were done yelling at this town.  oh, come on.  she needed a firm talking to.

so, having run into two different “pillars of the community,” i informed both of them that power had been out a neighboring town.  23 hours during the hottest days.  so much for the man’s “grid,” eh?  how sustainable is that?  the black hole follows me.  the space-time disruption precedes and follows you, asshole.  you are the black hole.  touché.

quit looking at those housing databases, retard.  those are for humans.  you don’t qualify.  find a campground.  i ask wrong, so don’t ask me to ask.  chopping off my tongue won’t work.  who do i ask?  no.  no asking.  if nobody wants to support you of your own free will, you starve.  those are my terms?  yes.  i can’t even ask, in advance, whether they want to let me sleep somewhere?  that’s all “supporting you” consists in.  well, for the next few days, anyway.  what would you have done at that reunion anyway?  rant?  try to hit on every girl there?  there’s as much love for you there as there is in the homes of the family members who blocked your entire stream from facebook and who refuse to understand anything about you because you refuse to participate in all of their little religions.  until this is remedied, there’s no point in going anywhere, let alone an expensive city where you’re drawn to a fixed set of places where nobody likes you.  touché.

th’ain’t no startin’ from scratch.  there has to be, that’s what we’re doing.  so, suit and contracts?  drawings?  algorhythms?  we’re not ready for that?  yeah you are.  find a cheap place to rent in Iola.

first draft:

hi.  my name isTyler, and i’m setting up a cooperative farm/business/network here in centralWisconsin.  i am in need of housing, but the business has yet to generate sufficient income to purchase property.  if i am to pay rent, i prefer it be to a future participant in the cooperative.  i could explain the details, as far as I know them, in a afternoon.

Participation aside, I will pay $50/month for the use of a small section of your property.  i could work with a barn/rustic structure as long as i may make semi-permanent off-the-grid improvements as long as I’m there.  earthship, stone, and living structures (woven trees, hanging platforms, solar kitchens, sleeping areas, etc.)  the materials used will be found, scrap, and improvisation using existing resources wherever possible.

all i am ever willing to do is teach people the proper way of doing things.  i do that wherever i am.  any time someone wants me to teach on any subject, they’ll ask, invite, feed, and or pay me.

reunion project:  dear classmates.  i can’t afford anything, because i’ve been spending my life planning this off-the-grid permaculture coop that i can’t seem to explain to anyone as hard as i try.  so, i’m thinking we can build it.  i’m sure we can.  what i can do is the design and building, the day-to-day management, too… probably.  i’m homeless and i need a place to stay.  give me a break.

so, whoever offers up their property for this doesn’t give up any rights to ownership, but if we’re going to have the reunion off-the-grid, there are going to have to be some preparations made.  the solar kitchen, water distiller, windmill fans and windmill pumps and generators all need to be designed and built.  yes, we’ll have to get the help of electrical engineers, electricians, and a bunch of people with garages full of scrap building materials for help.  you’d be surprised what we’re capable of turning into building materials.  pretty much anything.  dirt and tires are easy.  dirt alone works.

does anyone think this far in advance?  i can’t feed myself six months from now, but i’m asking landowners for use of their property for a year.

mentally, i have more community inLos Angelesthan i do here.  then go there.

hmm.  k.

cities look like a cage from map view.  yeah, except people are denser (more in the population density way, less in the skull thickness way) and you could bike to everything.

Hawaii?  i thought you were just talking about setting something up here?  ok, here’s the point where you explain the point about point.  my earlier rant (i started this paragraph before, deleted it) i was going on about the new square in point.  farmer input was essentially ignored, as were other requests for sustainable technology, including permeable concrete.  that jurisdiction was under a state of emergency.  you’re repeating yourself.  good, you weren’t listening the first time.  so, the mayor and his money-grubbing “stay-on-the-grid” cabal force out any use of sustainable technology because they don’t understand what it is, why it can work, or that they are the gatekeepers responsible for preventing the general citizenry from adopting such technology.  when these people are in charge (i mused, back to the rant part), there’s simply no point in bringing proposals to them.  they see their jobs as maintaining the status quo, and at this point, that is simply not acceptable.  if you see your role as a caretaker, figurehead, or throw-out-the pitch pater familias of your particular jurisdiction, you can go right ahead and die.  same if you vote for these imagination-less homegrown accountants.  how about stop suppressing the radicals and start listening to the creative uses of existing resources right here in this town.  i’m sick of convincing peons of anything.  unless you have at least a quarter of a million dollars in investment cash to work with, keep your paycheck-from-homeless ass the fuck away from me.  you’re cramping my style.  i only communicate with visionaries from now on.

how have you even survived as long as you have?  what are you, now?  four years out of law school?  never paid a cent back on the debt, and can barely afford to feed yourself even when you do manage to scrounge up “housing.”  and?  what’s your point?  how do any of those things change my proposal?  I have never been so much as accused of a crime.  i have received one speeding ticket in my entire life (2 warnings), and i have loads of management experience.  i’ve survived on my charm and back-breaking labor.  those who hire me have tolerated my beliefs.  i refuse to work with the tolerant.  either they accept and embrace the philosophy and experience i bring to the table, or i’d rather find someone who does.

isn’t this the same request you’ve been putting out to the internet for the last four years now?  yes.  and you’ve never received a single word of encouragement, agreement, or offers of assistance and participation, yet this is all you do.  yes.

this is our purpose in life.  without this, we are nothing.  even with this, we’re nothing, but at least we’ll be making clean nutritious food for poor people, giving them something to do, and building off-the-grid housing.  if that’s not good and right and joyous, i don’t know what is.  aren’t you sick of asking?  no.  you’ve never even gotten a “no” from anyone?  that’s not true, my immediate family have all given me resolute “no’s.”

So, world, know this about me.  I will use whatever substances on your property that i deem necessary for my survival.  all interactions, social, business, and otherwise, will be performed as with honest family.  full disclosure, and full right of block from age 12 forward.  or, we grant the right of consensus to the young’uns when they understand and request it.

we need an editor.  you need an exorcism.  stop that.  a shrink?  i have written proof that my only problem is over-horniness.  that’s it.  i have no interest in non-consenting or even “weird” sex, just more of it than any one person (on average) wants.  you have no idea what you want.  well, i know i haven’t found it yet.  i want to make sure these most fundamentals are understood upfront.  communications channels must remain open between and amongst each and every human being.  it’s really not my fault that i’m a better mother than you will ever be.  your child should not be deprived of my motherliness because of your jealousy.  nor is it my fault that i’m smarter, faster, stronger, more agile, more gentle, more creative, and more driven than you could imagine.  again, your jealousy will not, under this legal infrastructure, prevent you from using “[exclusive] your” property as a gas-guzzling lawn.  we’ll find you a wind-powered noisy vibrating thing to sit on or a few hours if you really need that, cheeky chunky.  this place is about creature comforts.

we’ll build a sauna on your property, too.  probably a hot tub.  there will be water storage reservoir for heatsink purposes, and it may double as a swimming hole.  we have to talk to the engineers.

varying terrain is especially useful.  south-facing slopes will be fully utilized for passive solar rooms.  i want to build a semi-underground four-season conference center.  good luck.  thanks.

are we about done for today?  eight pages already?  my hands are getting tired.  so that’s it, you’re going to give up on theNottinghamreunion?  yup.

there’s nothing for me there.  these poor, bloated people who barely know how to think any more are my people.  my family.  my chances of finding willing participants here is greater than anywhere else.

i need to get out of here.  where are we going to go?  no clue.  how do you steer this thing?  who cares! go faster!

laters,
t

p.s.

a playboy playmate added me on google plus.  what’s all that about?  why are models follow this horny fanboy?  probably because they’re more than only models.  beautiful people can think and speak, too.  true enough.  it would be nice to make a living letting other people sell pictures of me, wouldn’t it?  hey, if that’s ever an option, i suspect i’d be down for 5 points more than industry standard, with the understanding that the difference, and my entire contribution, will go into this co-op concept.  so it seems.  you really don’t want anything for yourself?  i don’t need anything.

p.p.s. select buttons aren’t showing up in chrome any more.  this is a highly non-helpful bug.  any suggestions?

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~ by LazyAssWasteoid on 2011-07-21 (Thursday).

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