life. i suspect i’m here as some sort of joke. kids, this is an example of an utter failure. look well upon it, for these are the mistakes you should not make.
so yeah, free house slave to a good home. i’m allowed to contract away my own rights, so it’s completely legal. bidding starts at gas money to get me there.
comment here. i want to explain that my usefulness and power generation is sorta like the human kids in monsters, inc. screaming in terror, they only make a tenth of the power that they generate when they laugh. how do i make people laugh at this? aren’t we past that? is that a subtle hint that he reads my blog? it wouldn’t be the first. no, those things travel through the ether.
my un-private dystopian bio.
it was born to parents shunned and abused by their own. their best was pathetic, but they did it anyway. it understood all too well, so took solace in pleasuring itself the only ways it could find. homework. they let me be when i’m doing or have done that.
the cravings for more matured humans were as equally shattered upon its second attempt. on this planet, they call that stage “college.” gee, thanks for the tip. no, it always found a few at each stage, and plenty whom it stopped in their tracks. frozen people. it never quite knew what to do with frozen people, so it left.
it never quite realized how cruel it was capable of being. on its good side, or if it wanted to stick its dick in your vagina, kindness and understanding were more common, but its underlying torment always expected the worst anyway. those who made it quiver with desire got about the same earful as the meanest. it had learned that public arousal was the worst thing that there was, so it was justified in punishing those who had no desire to assist. how do you think acting like this would turn out? one is not capable of asking that question of their own actions.
has it really been that bad? dude, weren’t you there? i honestly don’t know any more. i do remember beautiful architecture, feeling important and useful, and cleaning a lot of dishes. i made out with some really beautiful girls there, too. yes, there was that.
it had known, all along, but as these last four years wore on, additional realities sort of sank in. it rubbed elbows with the future tormentors, its heroes. this is not really a shortcut, it thought. the same transformation into a game-playing role would be required at every stage. it hadn’t been confident in its math brain’s ability to catch up. catch up? anyone else in the sciences had accelerated through courses it struggled through. it couldn’t force itself to care about understanding series’. not enough. we gave up on this, asshole, quit trying. its own brain would say. so, it took pictures and flirted the best it knew how. pretty much every person who encountered this beaten fatty ginger. science hill. it knew that well before it got there. way too lazy to walk all that way every day. could have relished the walk or bike ride. could have lost the weight. no, it was here to become a journalist, photographer, psychologist, and philosopher.
part of it knew the hierarchy wouldn’t allow the real math or science to be shown it anyway, so it dove into the lies. head first. it immersed itself in coolness, shallow as it could be. hey, when inrome, act American. bumbling crybaby. fascist drunk. party ruiner. creepy staring guy. collector of curiosities and pictures.
here it is. I don’t think i came up with the title. heh. i think my writing has improved significantly. were there any non-clichés in that? why would you want to publish that, kid. you really want to cry, not just in front of, but AT everyone like that? that shit was printed in the paper! yeah, pretty much my entire life i’ve been screaming GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME to everyone, without much more explanation that that. lol. get back into voice. ohhh, uhh, right.
it barely remembered that other people existed when it didn’t experience them on a daily basis. the father kept a communications channel open with a toll-free number. god damn it. i could have impaled myself on some gothic architecture. you still could. i’d have to bike it. right, like you’re not Spartan enough to do that. give me an excuse. sell it all.
i have all those papers, from both papers (Herald, Rumpus). they’re in storage at the mother’s. she may have burned or set them aflood by now. no, she thinks they’re worth more than you are alive. she’s right. you and your economics. are we gonna finish this fucking thing? i dunno. maybe. anxious for an ending, are ye? there ain’t one. dude, that last link is it. that’s your online legacy, right there. you’re kidding, right? that is your dystopian bio. heh. you so cray cray. you know you’re right.
low boundaries. it learned the term later, for its affliction. referred to one of its heroes as a mulatto in a bar once, was shunned immediately (every head at the long table snapped away in sync). attempted a humble apology, upon which it learned the terms biracial or multi-racial. communication is passwords. it verbally “twisted arms” until passwords were given, and wondered why silence was all it ever got afterwards. oh, and it kept moshing. solo. learned to like the fact that it was constantly solo, and it gave us something to complain about. the crew coach might have actually helped you, you know. why do you think i bolted? because of the bus ride. the sheer number of opportunities presented meant that it took a taste of more than were typically allowed. nothing is disallowed, son. nobody else desires as much, as voraciously.
regardless, it learned how to read. again. it learned how to write, again. friends helped. yeah, there were a few of those. temporary, many. captive audiences, probably. it was always a sensitive, you know. how do you think it gleaned the harshness so completely. every moment is slightly less tormenting than the one before. hey, progress is progress.
it grasped desperately for reasons. it knew the original translations and ancient languages were there for the studying as well. no. take the “easy” route. don’t go into a place where their eagerness to harness your work-horsing will put you on the tenure track. lazy, or love-avoidant? it still didn’t understand any of these subtleties. an old farmer once described approaching a field of obstacles, on skis, at far too great a speed. he clearly survived, describing his methods in doing so as glancing off of the obstacles to maintain elevation until speed was normalized/stabilized. that part of my head still hasn’t worked its wigglies out. we’ve tried putting the cart before the horse. the carts aren’t designed properly, is all. of course it’s possible. by the end, it had composed the foundations of its own thought, which it somehow got to satisfy academic requirements. it knew some of the top players, having skittered all over campus. knew of, more like. one with so low boundaries does make an impression on even the most powerful of souls.
it decided on law school in its favorite classroom, LC 101. it was the tiffany glass. those are the foundations of everything, under this construction scheme, anyway. cult of personality. it listened to pontification with intensity, or it fell asleep. like i’ve ever given a fuck. it moves in whatever direction it is allowed, but always pushes forward. always expanding understanding past the point of comfort. i’ve learned this many things, i thought, it said. know themn, at least, and you may realize that we come in peace. yes, the alternate spelling 2. know this.
upon gradgimacashin, it was clueless. it knew a guru. he wasn’t a guru. he is now. i never understand the draws, and my explanations never seem to quite justify its acts to me, so they shift amongst the available possibilities, memories. Minneapolis, it went. god, we’re a mood-suck. why do we have to rehash this torture. it has to get out. fuck. it was still searching. as much as that yale place had answered questions, it had raised even more. i think we may have needed a better reflection of ourself than those other places could have provided. you had the chance to start over. clean slate. you went back to those who knew. like i say, no one why will get at any of the all of this. it’s just how i remember it.
coffee refill, 1 PM. don’t act like you don’t know what it needs. that’s all public information, too. hey fucktard, you’ve made it clear that your love is conditional on your right to administer verbal beatings. no. stay the fuck away from me.
1:10 PM, it continues with the story. as if those ten minutes weren’t a part of the story. when it’s in readable format. yeah, like any editor is going to sanitize any of this before my death. you really have no idea how fast all of it could disappear, do you. instantly. it all has to go instantly. he’d like to read it when it gets in a readable form. drafts are a readable form, published or not. it is braided together so that it cannot be unparsed. all of the pieces are dependent on the inputs and output processing abilities of every other piece. not a single bit of it makes sense in isolation. give us this day our daily torture, as we torture those who torture against us. but deliver us to evil, that we may bask in the torturous torture that is the trickle. drip. drip. it never closes all the way, but it almost never opens unless it’s expressing absolute terror. it so loves the terror, this de-pedestaled hero. must we rehash its loss of faith over and over? yes, and i will put you right back in room 101 until you remember exactly who it was that tormented you and why. remember this face, because it will stand by you without judgment as you face the most horrible demons you have ever encountered. their/there/they’re right under that paper-thin skin.
Minneapolisintroduced it to “temping.” Temping introduced it to another Yalie, who it was not eager to speak with (being a winner and all), but his company introduced us to one so frightfully beautiful, she haunts us to this day. then she got us a job that introduced us to a whole lot more. we hit our tipping point there, surrounded byMinnesotalove. that’s different from the nice. our computer training, our corporate-funded lab. never had to take phone calls. hacked the shit out of the firewall to stream music. attached databases directly to the tables without really understanding processes or consequences. they had jobs to protect. i had learned as much as i could take. the withholding of information made me sick, not the building. that building was kind to me. it was a gentle shelter where i could ease into my digital life.
on the home front, it had company. roommates. fellow potheads. fellow drunks. i never cut them any slack, and i never shied away from any of their girls. or friends. i pretty much spent the whole time wasted and depressed, but when hasn’t that been the case? dude, don’t give away the ending. what?
http://resiliencyproject.net/positions toyomobo (chapter letter side-tracked):
the positions themselves, in title anyway (that’s all i’ve read so far) sound fantastic, and i would be able to do any of them. unless, of course, we are forced into the mindset of this ABCD and Natural Step framework. this framework alone is far too limiting for even its own methods. I have already pledged my life to kaizen, the law of attraction (focus on that which brings happiness and do as much as one is capable of doing), and anarchy. you would do well to have a cog with these foundations, and one who will not deny you your own, as long as you don’t force your beliefs on me, i won’t force mine on you. can we get straight to the nuts and bolts of things? far too much time is spent on describing philosophies, when escaping philosophy is the goal for which this entity ought strive. i’m going to go read the specifics on each position now. i will not ever be able to recite the steps of Natural Step any better than i can explain my own philosophy. the only aspects of another’s theory which i will be able to integrate (let alone hear in the first place) will have already been a part of my systems examination/philosophy/design. let’s cut the red tape, shall we?
i will have gaps in technical qualifications for all of these, but MREA Energy and Sustainable Ag Assistant sounds good. i am entirely capable of doing every single requirement of every one of these. it depends on how much you want to pay me and what title you want to give me. you’ve never seen me working under an umbrella. i’m quite pleasant.
Energy and Sustainability Specialist sounds good, too. except that the stipend is less, and it’s working in the Portage County Facilities department. those things don’t matter. as long as you pay me enough to live nearby and eat, i will survive.
Groundwater Technician would be my last choice, second only to UWSP Green Associate. I am capable of fulfilling all of the requirements of all of these, the primary considerations being where my talents and abilities would be most needed. part of me wants to be a floater of sorts, but i know that i will do inclusive projects that will result in me working in all of these locations, regardless of title. it’s just how i roll.
also, as exactly zero of my other projects and dreams have proven capable of sustaining me, let alone doing the modest repairs to my new rv, i would once again like to make myself available to you as an employee. i miss you. i miss paul. i miss your mom and dad. i don’t understand it either.
i also want to reassure you that i am indeed a drunk, and a user of medicinal substances, and probably a bit of “the devil” or his advocate, thrown in for good measure. i can explain how this is all to your benefit (and i speak here in regards to your entire clan), if you’ll let me.
i am applying for, well, all of the Resiliency Project positions. hopfully, i will get them all!
i’m the strangest person anyone has ever met. some say i pride myself on it. isolation has a way of stripping one of pride, i have learned the painful way. i don’t often apologize, but i tend to retrace my steps. i want to help, in many ways.
it told the father that its experience in this family is abusive. we got the exasperated sign and stink face of his mother. he has to know how what he does harms me. he must hear it from the horse’s mouth. i will continue bashing you over your thick fucking skull until you at least acknowledge that this is the experience i went through under your roof.
this is way better than mine was. you/your photography is beautiful, too.
untweeted: my resume still refers to lawyers as “the worst kind of slaves” so there’s not much chance of me actually _getting_ a job, you realize. yes there is. edit it. don’t tell me what to do. never tell a polarity responder what to do. how do you ever know. you can’t. be more precise with your wordings. why of course, we’re an expert in everything. and nothing, at the same time.
well, we have something to do tomorrow, anyway. 1:11 AM
(1:17 pm) to the tune of “Lucy In The Sky With Die-mondz” au el beetles, but entitled like “Teddy Inna Skye Wiff Magnuts”
bitch, or you smell, or that bloat fuck john ritter
dammit. i forget the lyrics and my internet connection is gone. fucking wifi card is gone. you could listen to it. you coulda thought of that earlier. nah, we had stuff to type. this is all out of order now. good.
I should type this anyway:
Rainforest Recovery Crew
(Sun, 9/4/11, 1:01 pm, Dad’s Kitchen)
Script is a flowchart, which analyzes the land features. Database matches food preferences with local edibles (endangered species, canopy, etc). Transplanters bring them from as close a distance as possible, and the cascading schedules have people doing what needs doin’, when it needs to be done. The database, through full global consensus, re-plants forests, fully allowing for peaceful human/animal interaction/feeding/survival. We train crew leaders, tribal stabilizers, communications optimizers.
file it. that was written on a cube-note sheet of white paper with blue edges. you have a lot of those around when you’re a professional, i suppose. promo things, but what don’t have sticky posty glue on the back. the world is a database of notes.
umm, no. i get what i want because i’m always right. i don’t distribute the rightness or wrongness, i’m just sure of myself and my methods. experimentally, things tend to work.
i’m not saying i don’t get lost along the way, but mechanisms exist to pull it all back together. it cinches up with a single cable. you don’t know how many years of pure distilled love can be implanted in a single message, do you?
ok, is everyone on earth about done saying mean stuff about each other, or lumping each other together in groups that don’t really match? ‘cuz seriously, there’s like real stuff we could be building, cool things that have already been invented, but should be put to use everywhere. yes, we should have rainforests everywhere. look, if a few of you want to continue living in a desert or prairie or that big open field, i guess you can, but i really think you should take a look at some of the five-year, ten-year, and 20-year food/energy/3D models of some of our designs before you go poo-poohing them. you’ll be able to reach your favorite fruit from your hammock after 5 years. yes, you’ll have trees and bushes in areas of your house that you will find most comfortable during many hours of the day. full spectrum LEDs will simulate tropical climates to maximize production of fruits, and human occupation of these same areas will limit the need for additional lighting/energy use. every piece of the design should accomplish at least two functions. probably more. something like the floor is going to do tons of work.
what if i did a blog post, and e-mailed them the URL, and that was my application? that’s the most retarded thing i’ve ever heard of. you should make a google sites site. or better, a media-wiki. it’s all free.
duplicating work. that’s what the machine likes. extra steps to accomplish meaningless tasks. i don’t think so, dude. this seems like it’s being run by good people. oh? do you really think i determine any humans’ goodness by their programming? no, people are inherently good and useful, if shown how they can help. if they’re destructive, they should be allowed to be isolated and do their best to kill each other if they want. they’re our security forces, our prison and guards. whoever has to exist in that horrible place is under its horrible programming. it really doesn’t matter that much. if useful, natural places were designed from the beginning, the concept of homelessness wouldn’t exist. what do you mean? there are plenty of energy-independent structures that people can sleep and work in, and the land so over-produces that there’s plenty of food. any additional person who peacefully participates with the design can net a positive, a “value-added,” if you will. seriously, just shitting in our toilets is adding useful energy and organic matter into the system. there are a million (literally, we counted them) ways that a person can help this system.
there are people awake 24 hours a day, so the building should be designed to accommodate their work, their entertainment, and their noise-creation. if this means a sound isolated barn ten miles from any other dwellings, i’m sure they will be more than happy to make that space multi-functional. you will not discriminate against the day-walkers. there is massive recruitment opportunity amongst the drunks, and they will not be denied their participation because of your lack of creativity. medicine is medicine, and each should be allowed to determine their own.
in all of “the point”, there’s only one person that i really think i could live with, and then, only if i had a sound-insulated sleeping chamber. or, he has a place to be musical when i’m in need of sleep. plenty of others i could definitely live with if we have an adequate supply of weed around. you really have to get over yourselves. it calms people down. it connects them to the all and makes you realize you’re not alone, even if nobody talks to you, ever. people like talking to you. i know they do. if i had a viable use for my time, and were allowed to participate incrementally in the system, i would like talking to them, too. until you see me as a legitimate human being, i want absolutely nothing to do with you. good. we’re cooking, and letting the computer rest. good. Namaste. (3:40 PM, 9-4-11)
5:56 PM getting out of that mindset makes more sense. touché.
og rate. talking 2 yrslf agin. smh
do we wanna run a few sorties this even-hing? or are we to the tweetage? i wanna sorta bit. k. we be takin’ el radio slignulls wiffux. us. whiffuss. postage? *stamps* do we have any neighs? none appearing. it’s fun running an exclusive club. i do what i want.
love you. that’s all i wanna do.
p.s. the credit computer told me your name. sorry about that. i suppose a name tag mighta once upon a time, too. i prefer your eyes.
p.p.s. (6:00 PM on 90FM) this public service message is a pigeon-hole yourself instructions. what kind of friend are you? are you a X friend? don’t encourage this kind of social fascism from your airwaves, kids.
no, your sitting their reading yore own bLAWg. that’s a shortenizing of interweB LAZY-ASS-WASTEOID loG. i don’t discriminate your de-brevitization, exceptualixplaining for when it reversimacates the directionality of the essence of the originalioio. r.e.o. speed: wagon. rumble rumble. dog team hault! woof. good dog.
i am going to find myself a new laptop, camera, and DVD drive. USB3. Linux drivers. keep the budget reasonable. just a case. we have drives. IDE, you want scsi, yes? there’s probably something faster. we want the fastest. do we even need a case if it’s going in the rv? we’re going to strip that sucker and sound isolate all the noisemakers. that phase is a few steps away. how about a quiet portable case that doubles as a heater. now that actually makes sense, if you can make it quiet enough. that can pre-heat the solar water. yeah, my imaginary future-computer is silently water-cooled. what’s it to ya?
these posts are getting spazzy. getting? can you say verbose? it’s a mode. phase conjugate. heel. *r)ing* good dog. ruff!