glutamate research

it’s the 26th.  sunday.  i had a super-hella-awesome walk today.  like i tweeted, the universe gave me a half a bag of Doritos.  i scarfed them, as i do.  i have the bag.  i figured i’d google some more ingredients of one of my life-time all-favorite addictive poisons.  what the fuck, eh?  you are what you eat.

meat eaters are like childish cigarette smokers.  “no, i like it,” they snap, snidely.  “it’s only hurtingme.” no, you brain-killing waste of space, it’s hurting far more than you.  you are ruining the watersheds downstream from where those chickens/pigs/cows were grown, and their lives were a torturous hell of poisons and cramped spaces, much like your own.

we are a frail bunch, eh?  i took my glasses off, on my walk, on a particularly muddy part of the trail.  i had heard, or read somewhere, that this might be good for your eyes.  i am quite blind without my specs.  i become quite helpless.  i made it about ten steps, and realized that there were people up ahead of me.  i put my glasses back on.  during those few steps, without glasses, i imagined that this is a good analogy for how the poisoned masses see the world.  blurry.  the tree branch sticks out into the trail.  the child says, “couldn’t we plan where the branches go if we’re going to be living around and with these trees.” and the city worker next to him fires up the chainsaw.  “welp, maybe if someone woulda thought of that before.  that ain’t in my job description, the only tool they give me to work with is this here chain saw.” and sap spills, and bacteria sloppily infect the wound, while the foundry growls in the background.

monday evil:

dear everybody.  you’re like a violent child who stumbled across a stash of cigarettes, or who was allowed to have as many as you wanted, as long as you didn’t share with anyone else.  this is how i view anyone and everyone who watches tv, smokes cigarettes, eats meat or any kind of fast food, myself included.  i blame today’s horribly frighteningly shitty mood on that bag of doritos and the two movies i watched last night, mission impossible 3 and killer elite.  vicious, evil corporate trash.  horrible examples of relationships, and death and destruction everywhere.  kind of like the familial estate, huh.

analysis of property extends up through the known heights of the sky, and to the center of the earth.  as in the rest of the world, all of these rights are conditional on information and ability, so not really equal at all.  saying, oh, you can do this, but you just have to wait for me to decide all the hoops i get to make you jump through before you can actually do that.  and god help you if you don’t actually own any land, because landowners think they get to apply this rigmarole on a small scale, but they have also been trained by the tv to “think things over” and “get back to you about that” as means of blowing people off, rather than saying to them directly, “i don’t like you, i don’t want you or your property around unless there’s a possibility that it will pay off for me.”  that’s the rub, isn’t it.  any allowed use is considered an investment by these deluded, poisoned lying sacks of shit who call themselves landowners.  you are worthless scum, land wasters.  land-lockers.

so, i only have a few more things to say publicly before i’m completely done here.  dad, you were once going to write a book about an alzheimers club that assisted suicide when they thought their members were past the point of sanity.  i think you’re well past that point.  i think you’re an awful person, and i sincerely hope you never speak to me again for the rest of your horribly shitty, fully complaint-worthy life.  you’re not wrong, Michael, you’re just an asshole.

mom, you’re no better.  you’re a foot-dragging capitalist swine.  all disrespect intended, piggy.  you are the most childish bully i have ever met, a molester of children and adults alike, and i can barely stand to be in the same room as you, either.  burn in hell.

sis, i feel i had as much of a hand in training you to be the retardation-addicted liar that you are.  i know.  tv is like an old friend.  and old friends are the ones who make you feel like horrible shit and let you waste everybody’s time by being a mean, sour, spiteful idiot.  just because that’s how it’s always been done.  taking your kid, my niece, to a doctor, is child abuse.  you are as bad a parent as mom and dad, and as poor a manager of property.  i’m sure you’ll just make your kids hate me for telling you the truth like this, because that’s all we really know how to do in this family, but you need to know, and feel, your actions are on you.  i stay away because you’re awful.  to me and to others in my presence.  i cannot stand by you and say that you are my loving family.  you, just like the rest of these idiots, continue poisoning yourself and your children, and excluding me for having the ability to see it and the strength to publish it publicly.

friends of my parents, you’re all as worthless as they are.  if you own over 207 square feet, i hope the tinge of guilt, sadness, and loss you feel for all of humanity when i burn myself to death in the rv that you refused to let me park there.

the realization that i have never known family is freeing.  i know, in America, we are trained that the only way you “protect” your kids from stuff is by standing in between them and the world.  don’t let them see.  but, you put them in this direction.  you orient them to all these poison streams.  you direct their time and attention, from a very young age, and in such a way that they can barely operate without corporate orders and a drill sergeant screaming in your face to move.  you’re sinking,America.  with each and every day that passes.  this was a critical emergency when i first told you about it.  i know you think that means the fact that nothing has literally imploded (as if it hasn’t), that you don’t really have to change, all that radically, how you view your role on this planet.

i am so angry right now.  i want to reprogram all of the world’s information streams to health so that you retarded assholes can get past this horrible fascist hell-hole that we’ve created for the planet.  major changes are necessary, in how we think about every aspect of life.  i know you don’t feel like it right now, because you’re a violent, childish addict.  you sicken me.  you disgust me.  you make me want to puke on every last one of your cars, buildings, streets, sidewalks, and preferences.  3:33 pm.

this goes double for any of you i’ve actually proposed any of this stuff in writing.  oh, that’s everyone too, isn’t it.  ok.  the world wants me to die.  that’s the only conclusion i can draw from any of this shit.  good luck implementing my ideas and taking prideful credit for what was probably, ultimately, indigenous knowledge.  the creator’s knowledge.  how would we not, as a species, get instructions on how this planet works.  the damn instruction manual.  don’t even fucking tell me your retarded translations of the bible are anything but gross mis-interpretations, which are worse than nonsense.

every time you try to re-translate something that i say, you retardize it.  you turn it into a corporate lie, full of fluffy nonsense that is counter to the whole proposal.  please stop that.  it gently asked its tormentors.  why do you even give them this much?  they deserve this much, at the very least.  pure, unabashed honesty.

i see them all over, every day.  people, in their little hateful bio-suits of rubber, glass, and steel.  such pride in its shiny coat.  such pride in its growl.  in its hauling power.  oh, but all of your hauling power is tied to evil.  yes, in every way, shape, and sense of the term, evil.  if you’re still dividing the world into good and evil, you’re evil.  by using that.  or, when you use that.  i know you’re capable of decent action, and your refusal to act decently cannot be blamed on anything.  you reject certain aspects of your programming, do you not?  so, you are capable of rejecting it.  expand that concept if you want to live.

Cool Ranch Doritos Ingredients:

  • whole corn
  • vegetable oil (corn, canola, soybean and/or sunflower oil)
  • maltodextrin (made from corn)
  • salt
  • tomato powder
  • corn starch
  • lactose
  • whey
  • skim milk
  • corn syrup solids
  • onion powder
  • sugar
  • garlic powder
  • monosodium glutamate
  • cheddar cheese (milk, cheese cultures, salt, enzymes)
  • dextrose
  • malic acid
  • buttermilk
  • natural and artificial flavors
  • sodium acetate
  • artificial color (including red 40, blue 1, yellow 5)
  • sodium caseinate
  • spice
  • citric acid
  • disodium inosinate
  • disodium guanylate
  • contains milk ingredients

the same demon hovered about me this morning (tuesday 2/28/12, 12:51 pm), as i went through my morning ritual.  i let it in.  nobody else was here, and it makes me productive.  plus, there’s no other way i’d be able to tell my entire family to go to hell unless i was still this pissed at them.  the fact that they still burn a part of me means i haven’t dis/integrated their concept fully.  today’s librarying will alter that.

because i’ve seen them around other people.  they often make the “progressive” or “liberal” argument.  the dude is up on the roof.  i wonder if he can hear my music, typing, or the bic flick.  prolly.  retarded socially accepted lying keeps me behind closed doors, but full information disclosure is always the policy.  this is human.

it waited ‘til HD, in front of Oprah, to turn to its mother and unleash a vicious scream, accentuating various syllables with a piercing downward finger-stabbing motion: “FUCK YOU YOU FUCKING WHORE!!! DON’T YOU DARE CLAIM TO HAVE GIVEN ME THAT WHICH WAS NEVER OFFERED.  you MOCK everything that i do.  i used to think that you were just incredibly stupid.  know, i see, that you’re just bitterly FUCKING CRUEL!!!!  DIIIEEE, DIEEEEEE, DDDIIIEEE!!!!”

oprah barely flinched.  “that’s entirely unnecessary, son.  you apologize to your mother right now and then leave immediately.”  but she was already gone, so it didn’t matter.  dictator felt a little bad, about using the word “whore” as an insult.  prostitutes being some of his favorite people/archetypes/partners, and all.  but seriously, all those competitive people suck.  job havers.  i share this pain with you only to tell you that you have no idea what pain you cause, with every, bullying, act.

get that kid into a motion-capture suit.  we’re mid-video on this dance playlist.  is this another trilogy, sir.  mayhaps.  the f trilogy.  ef cubed.  mrah.  whatever.  get over your horribly hurtful religion, and we can talk.  until then, fuck off.

love,
t

1:18 pm.  heading to work. 😀

why do i get the feeling that the Doritos sold inMadisondon’t contain straight-up “monosodium glutamate” in the ingredients list.  then again, it’s buried, in all caps.  punctuation and capitalization help, don’t they.  or, the proper use.  and, stuff in all caps does seem like yelling, doesn’t it.  get vicious when necessary.  that inner beast is honest, as honest as they get, really.  power vs. responsibility, brute force of words vs. honesty.  i’ve met people who, for some reason, only tell the unvarnished truth while yelling.  it’s too big for talking.  the hurt, the hate.  i want you to die for your own good.  for all of our good.  nobody speaks to archetypes like that.  you can’t kill an archetype, retard.  they’re like stronger than corporations under capitalism.  all you can do is counter-balance them.  so dictator is a result of our being such a good slave?  yep.  that’s why i got out the business.  i was too good at it.  never complained.  never demanded more money.  never looked for another place to work.  always sprouted fresh ideas, worked at break-neck speeds, hauled tonnage alongside and at pace with the locals, but could never quite avoid being its dictatorial, paternal, dickish self.  whatever, it just hates everyone.  stop that.  it doesn’t hate people, it wishes to stop harmful acts by humans.  if humans refuse to stop acting harmfully, are they not the problem?  the solutions are simple, right before our eyes in intricate detail.  the logic solid, the arguments proven, from every conceivable angle.  the poison stream does not cease, and the cars continue their daily loops, the people continue their manipulative lying and condemnation of those they claim to love, repeating the same counter-growth, anti-life, addictive “humorous” cruelty they have been programmed with/into/by.

what does your car say about your personality?

electric motors?  why not.  it’s as good a place to start as any.  we need the costume, too.  i need a fucking airplane hangar.  no, that’s not insane.  you know how much usable space is in a big ol’ warehouse?  how much roof rain-water-collection square footage there is?  we reinforce the roof with trees.  start some top, directing their roots downward, covering them with soil and/or compost  start others on the ground, and arch them a ways above the new ground level.  encourage upward shoots along the roots, and connect the two structures in triangles.  there.  your tree-cave will take a few years to build, but once it’s set up, it ought to stay up.

i was just attacked with a poison-cloud of epic proportions.  gross.  if you’re wearing perfume, STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!!!  that’s fucking harassment.  air thief.  i’m having spasms.  she chased me, so as to make it not just that i had to sit in the cloud, but that it followed me to the next table where i moved.  what would be the point of looking at your face, knowing that you’re a lying poison addict.  what if i thought you were attractive?  then i’d have to tell you these things to your face.  fuck.  my nasal cavities are burning.

i wonder how many husbands/fathers/breadwinners keep their families feeling guilty about water use, therefore driving it up in their rebellion.  oh, the reactionaries are the anti-productive.  the raw basic needs are not satisfied, so everything built on top of them is essentially worthless.

i glanced at a few people on the way in here today.  fucking doppelganger city for some reason.  first, a friend i met on myspace, then… tom seleck?  nobody looks like a local to me, because i am allowed no locality.  i’m barely admitted as a human being.  i’m the ever-present reminder that no matter what our family does, it’s poor.  and this is used by the rest of the hurtful assholes as an excuse to drink and act sad and yell and scream and complain rather than actually changing the infrastructure over which they DO have control.

i seriously need an accomplice in this caper.  (shystie – head bangar) 2:30 pm.  it’s loud.  i think that b-word pierces its soul with every encounter because it used to roll off our tongue so easily.  and how.  we’ve caught the balance.  it keeps a close orbit.  the flywheel still has a few attachments that must be removed.  completely.  or counter-balanced.  are you saying this library is full of my family, the dopple-gangsters?  perhaps.  were you able to see them, or disconnect from your sounds.  lies.  i am open to communications in writing.  proposals.

local fruit club.  what happened to the dog-walking co-op?  another anti-communicative.  job-havers, i tell ya.  nobody with a 40-hour-a-week time-suck whose full embrace nearly requires poison consumption on numerous levels.  not to mention weight gain.  standing hurts them, let alone thinking.  survey: usefulness, percentage of humans: 5%?  that’s generous.  non-slave usefuls?  i think you may know all of the English-speaking ones on the planet.  we aren’t useful, are we.  depends on what kind of use you’re talking about.  i would expect these words to have educational value.  inspirational value, health value.  you wish.  this is your last will and testament, fucktard.  some corporate CEO/chair of the board of directors will somehow call for the destruction of erv, just as you finish her.  any love interest will be executed if she gets within 50 feet of you, and you will die as you have lived, entirely alone, for miles in all directions, while surrounded by lying leeches.

look here, Christianity, there’s simply no way hell could be worse than this.  none.  you’ve beamed me down to a planet of slaves so tied to their fascism, that they literally cannot see, or maintain ignorance at plain English, of the reversal of this hellishness.  i can’t take it any more.  what am i to do?  i lobby against money.  that doesn’t mean i won’t use it.  i can’t seem to avoid it.  i’m so socially awkward and over-educated, hyper-sensitive and politically correct to a degree most these racist sporto’s never knew existed.  it hurts both of us for me to even be around them.  those who know me only lament that the sexist, competitive asshole i used to be doesn’t come around.  what did you think law school would do to me?  same thing those fucking doritos did.  word auto-capitalizes that.  that’s fucking evil.  not any more, it doesn’t.  i bet it still fucks up the spacing with those auto-tags, too.  fuck you, bill.  fucking billionaire.

3:02 pm.  genius slave for sale

he puts most of his effort, with me, into defending his food choices.  he sticks to the most gmo-laden shit he can find, which goes along with his intense egotistical delight in fiding “deals,” being an advocate and participant in the financial services industry.  t’other is a sadness-carrion vulture, identifying the state-sanctioned outsider for everyone’s slllowww-mmotionn finger-wagging, pursed-lipped dismissal.  she’s had her hours reduced, but has elevated mileage and the consumption of corporate meat and acid-forming foods.  cooked tomatoes, primarily.  and she continues to cook everything down to mush, as the poison industry demands.  it’s like complaining that a corporate killing machine is a corporate killing machine.  stop focusing on the tinyest, weakest you have ever met.  why?  this study is essential.  this quaint little remnant of the industrial age is a horrible oasis of cruelty.  what kind of person would go live in a small town?  a very disconnected, mean one.

3:14.  school’s out, mother fuckers.  i’m re-reading this beast.  3:31 pm.  posting.

thanks for reading. ❤ t

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~ by LazyAssWasteoid on 2012-02-28 (Tuesday).

3 Responses to “glutamate research”

  1. You rant against the country who’s welfare programs allow you to live.

    • false. i do not rely on any state. i rant against the idiotic practices of the residents of the country which keep all of its land dead, useless, and suspicious/terrified of new ideas. go away

  2. inspired…

    […]glutamate research « Unabashed Thoughtcrime[…]…

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