milkshakes

master? yes.  i love youtube.  i love it.  i should just brand all my shit youtube.  i could turn erv into the logospheredon’t cha think that’s pushin’ it a little far.  you’re right.  if we’re going to brand shit, it’s gonna be our flesh.  yes, this is why we need plasma cutters.  it’s a recursive genetic trait.  recursive?  fractal discussion today

river ridge trail work day. Saturday, May 5, 2012, 9 AM -12 pm.  Swan Park

i’ve never understood the “for more information” phone number thing.  i have always disliked telephones.  it’s your voices.  i have angels in my ears all day, whether the wind itself, birdsongs, or that notorious googalian video database and trollfarm.  you should have to show your face and talk into the camera to be able to reply with text.  that’s one of the turning points of humanity, when people starting being able to see-hear how completely awful they were being to other people.  but then it creates a cult following.  ironic hate.  club zombies.  boom boom club! Zombiez!  dude, no, it’s the milkshakes.  quit calling me dude.  quit acting like a dude, bro, and i’ll quit calling you a dude, bro.  i can’t believe we have kept you alive this long.  i’m the only way you’d survive this town, brah.  shut up, he’s right.  which town were you talking about again?  hey, hey.  sacred territory, the birdsongs.

i apologize for the pain i inflict.  i do not wish to cause discomfort, or only so much as it explains the thing that you seem to not be able to get your head around, so to speak.  i tired of the cliches around the time they made others laugh.  oh what a rocky and lonesome path it has woven about the ethers.  i don’t know how i would begin to physically attach to another, at this point.  philosophy is not something that need be discussed once a consensus can be reached about the actual state of things, according to the experts, be they industrial or self-proclaimed.  have you been educating yourself to oversee the daily operations of a non-capitalist planet earth for your entire life?  well, i have.  i’d say i haven’t seen a dime from it, but that would not speak for the materialist and alcohol-fueled binge that was my contribution to the gross domestic product.  sorry for such filthy language.  gdp is a statistic like the fucking sexist douchebag whose only story he brings back from a foreign country is how reserved/restricted a man’s wife was, in public, and in his presence.  i wanted to be all, dude, i wouldn’t bring any of my female friends within a mile of you out of a near guaranteed physical exploitation by body language.  the reason a society feels it has to go conservative is because of the abused americans who are now jetsetting.  oh, fab!  all that shit about what happens in some place stays in that place are fascist bullshit.  what you do in real life has real consequences for real people.

on the way here, i was thinking that i have lived my life morally.  the funny thing about morality is that you can only see as far as you project it.  many of the things that i thought were “moral” were awful suppression of other people, for their otherness or for substantive things.  jealousy?  i submit that the competitiveness is due to the lack of nutrition.  it feels like you can eat and eat and eat and never get full because your body is getting almost nothing of what it needs except for the positive brain-tweak.  yes, real food does give you that, too, but it’s the difference between an organic apple and “diet cherry cola.”  eew.  more dirty words.  heh.

you can’t see very far, can you.  i see a lot more than feels good, i’ll tell you that much.  it’s not like y’all aren’t dismissive and damaged in your own beautiful ways.  i will accept responsibility for however much of your awfulness towards different people is, you know, end this sentence. no, i like it.  ok, however much of that is my fault, you’re going to have to back that up with actual things that i have said.  this assertion based on what?  treating humans like humans.  don’t hate on me because your life is an out-of-balance pain in the ass.  wanna know how you are?  honestly finish the sentence: life is…

5 pm.  this is second shift.  we’re gonna be here ‘til 8, prolly.  it’s so nice out.  i know, we’re sitting in the sun.  mraww.  libraries rule.  solar power rules.

i have to do research on heatsinks (thermal storage media).  i have designed the mods for the kerosene burner, and i’m gonna run a liquid or air channel through an insulator other than air.  we won’t necessarily have to print the whole thing.  that would depend on the consistency of the printables.  if we found a lightweight, structural, printable heat-storage medium, it will take about a week longer to construct than it does to print.  i told you, spartan.  no extra weight.  i may paint it, yes.  i could paint the side of it and do this out there.  then people would want to talk to us.  yes.  isn’t that the idea?  isn’t that the task that you need so much help with?  speaking to the public.  what am i doing this here?  true, but it’s about as responsive as big brother.  oh please.  i listen to more people than listen to me.  there’s a fair amount of overlap.  i have no more to teach those kids.  lady, doood, i will hold the memories of your tiny shielded likenesses with as much heartfelt kindness as i can muster at any given moment.  in other words, i have to stop listening to your contrarian/violence speech so that i can be the happy loving person i know i am.  you are free to continue spewing that shit into the stratosphere like a coal plant.  go you.  i will probably unfollow people who retweet your most awful shit.  hey, hey loookit mee, i’m an ironic hater! meh

i leaf it on the field.  if a tweet bothers me, i get that botherage right the fuck out of me and pronto so that i can adequately assess the next thing i see, which will most likely be something that makes me laugh, or babble-giggle like a 2-year-old.  this, children, is by design.  i speak to the inner child i can tell you still have locked in the basement of your soul.  birdhouse?  oh, poor lil gui.  gai.

start it by e-mail, then you will see, which of them can effectively govern via e.  wouldn’t the app make more sense?  it’s going to be an open source customization of some ridiculously stupid lightweight scriptable wiki.  it’ll be open as shit, so we’ll all have to monitor it real-time.  daylight, motherfuckers.  i have no shame in my acts, nor my words, because i do not use them to condemn individuals or subsets.  only acts.  in addition, i recognize that whether it was my initial connection to you or my being drawn to that aspect of you which i now critique, that i share it.  or a mirror of it.  who knows.

the communications infrastructure is stupid easy, is the point.  imagine a fb/twitter/blog combo with rankings, custom feeds by vote or topic, saved in the cloud and accessible from whatever medium you have available, whether that’s 4g or a small recreational vehicle loaded with a shit ton of portable hard drives.  tape drives?  maybe.  may. bee

tell them about the day i didn’t work at work.  yes, to explore the culture of cheating, one must partake.  this may be done in a limited way, or as habit.  what was that about moral life, earlier this post.  oh, when working for a fascist, industry-fueled annoyance concern, i think letting a few americans finish their dinners uninterrupted is a good thing.  i liked canvassing, but only if people actually wanted to talk.  and, they have it all broken down by phases, and we were in identification phase, to see who people were voting for, so they could be bugged by us later, or probably “the other guy” if that was their preference.  why wouldn’t that data be shared at the database level?  how do you think you get the exit polls to be anywhere near the “official” “counts”?  you people are gullible as fuck, i know that much.  that’s good design.  the exploitation of it is a heinous offence.  i pledge that i will never attempt to convince you of anything.  i present evidence i believe is vital, and i like who i like.  if you wish that was you, i apologize, because i’ll probably say some rather hurtful things at the disconnect.  that depends on a lot of things.  the only reason one would publicly scold another is if they felt their voice wasn’t heard at another point.  such is the case.  do i plan anything in specific terms?  i have no idea.  words float, i speak.  people stare.  you could probably blend in a little more if you tried.  and the point of “blending in” in my present condition would be?  as far as i can tell, the only thing keeping me alive is the kids-rush-in-and-keep-indiana-jones-from-being-machine-gunned-in-a-restaurant.  that’s why i don’t go into restaurants.  lol, you dolt.  you are the contrapositive to notariety.  anti-famous.  oh please.  most people diagnose me as narcissistic.  hunger strike as selfish

the few performances of coachella that i have heard are pretty low quality.  actually, corporate art is generally a few scattered hits and a vast majority of misses.  a kid i ran across driving a p.t. cruizer (the l word is the dirtiest. shh) was listening to some sort of awful, torturous “douche-rock”?  i don’t know.  i think it is the asshole baby of white rap, hair bands, and crybaby ballads.  i’m not saying you shouldn’t write songs about sad things, but complaining about how you’re not good enough for your partner or repeating their whines about you?  let’s identify with something positive in our musics, eh?  hey, i heard you talking shit about my band.  you wanna go?  lol.  fuck, he’s still here?  we’re gonna kill you off before we give you a band, douchetard.  well alright then.  long as we’re clear.  i love how you only have to elevate your tone for a single word when talking to that guy, and he thanks you and sits down.  he’s all bluster.  all.  bluster.  and it completely doesn’t matter who gives the orders.  half the time it’s a tiny person.  kids, don’t order your parents around, unless they did it to you first, and then only do it to the extent that they learn their lesson and don’t do that any more.  good.  thank you.

see, one decent sentence.  it is very warm outside.  there’s nowhere i’d rather be than at this keyboard.  when these words are here, i have to get them out, because i don’t know when they will be here again.  5:42 pm

it’s not that i have no boundaries, i have low boundaries.  and, i feel much more complete and consistent, but one should always think that, shouldn’t they?  i have exploded into an exhausted, exasperated dramatic display before.  i felt completely alone, desperate for a connection.  i felt exploited for that as well.  i chose this path, and i stayed on it for as long as i did, but i feel that my decision-making and sympathy/empathy has increased, and i have changed my patterns to reflect this, in as much as i am capable.  i see mostly positive, and i see mostly progress.  i also see the discomfort i cause.  again, not taking full credit.  i don’t want it.  i’ll take my proportion of my contribution.  going back for a short time is such a heart-vacuum at the disconnect, i couldn’t bear the weight.  i had sadness in me still.  perhaps i still do.  that, also, seems to be moving in the right direction.

if i were doing my scripting and motion capture, i would analyze error rates and specific songs.  you can’t do a study like that on “song types” because songs are so different.  i don’t know.  i have dubstep on the brain.

if i ever referred to you as my better half, it is utterly without irony.  as far as contributions to existing systems, mine are awful.  i know this.  what am i detoxing here?  complete dismissal of other people’s ideas and an utter inability or unwillingness to put those ideas into words.  can we not talk in capabilities but in actions?  my intent is always positive change, and i can beta-test software with the best of them.  beta-test?  break it.  put it through more of a workout than the designers probably intended for it to go through.  they give me functionality that i request, and i turn that into pretty video and bug testing.  attention to detail.  how many of you are entirely aware of your body twenty-four hours a day?  i tell you over and over, i am dancing in my chair right now.  i don’t know why i’m being so insistent about it, other than that’s how i was trained to be by an ill-formed systematic teacher. 5:55 pm

tv?  no thanks.  movie?  got any make-out music?  or aqua teen.  i could guffaw at some dadaist social fascism right a bout naww (the funk soul brotha).

i was on a bike ride yesterday, was that yesterday?  i think it was.  i was probably too horny to be biking.  huh?  i get intensely horny too often to keep you from getting “uncomfortable” or, you know, “sexually repressive.”  go fix it, then.  i did.  or, the trees did.  i put the extra essence directly into my tires.  at the top of that hill, my aura looked like evil boy.  dirty.  i know.  an old man caught it, just barely, out of the corner of his sunglass covered eyes.  he was headed the other direction on the path.  when he hit the crest of the hill, his aura became that.  there were two female humans near enough his age to make his next half-mile walk a fairly pleasant experience.  i think people feel the urge to show a lot of skin here because in a certain sense, that’s sharing.  isn’t it?  couldn’t it be, rather?  as a non-judgmental way to think of it.  that’s all i’m here for, really.  to show you how to speak or think of things without condemning one another.  you didn’t know that was an option, didja?  hey, those from whom we depart are more than capable on their own.  i hope to be able to break bread with them at some point again in the future, but who can say?  for sure

there’s a lot more crassness on twitter, and a lot more thinly veiled fear and hatred on facebook.  if you’re looking for reasons to go for/with one or the other.  it’s a double-edged sword, because what will inevitably happen is that some type of person who you completely despise to your core will appear in someone you’ve already had the unfortunate pleasure of falling in love with.  if they tweet a lot, you can learn more about someone you follow than fans know about musicians or parents know about kids or couples know about each other.  it’s the wild west.  but, it is what you make it.  i am one of the offenders.  one of the unfollowed.  no, i’m not proud of it, it kind of hurts.  i wouldn’t have it any other way.  i don’t so much censor myself as let things that elicit negativity go by without pointing them out.  sometimes there is a valid point to be made, and some times, i don’t know.  i’d say i can’t help myself, but i like the ways that i am and i think that it’s important, at the very least, that my voice is heard.  i put a lot of time into twitter some days, and rather intensive time, at that.  i’m talking full dedicated concentration, listening to its audio, watching/reading its links, and passing along that which i think is a positive contribution to the world of activist thought, general interest, or curious information.  it’s a rather pointed argument, i make.

i saw a dude i went to high school with today, at the gas station.  i got a bunch of bananas, 3 oranges, and 2 filled long johns.  i know, they’re delicious.  it was totally worth it for yesterday to not eat my daily donut for the global strike.  i sorta did extra overtime work, though.  whatever.  you’re barely caught up as it is, even by our valuation!  do i not get any points for originality?  not from me.  no.  we don’t distribute points.  as soon as you set up a running tally, the hoarders start hoarding.  that’s why it’s constantly valued.  what?  yeah, so rent and hours worked are immediate, so you can analyze the flows.  we’re going to have to do all sorts of fluid dynamics analysis here.  did you mention that aluminum can pipe-crushing/rifling jig?  not yet.  set it up, roll ‘em through, pieced together multi-fastener-water-pipe for you.  free fer nuthin!

it’s not free, that can represents the destruction of at least a few square feet of mother earth, and probably more than a few cubic feet of pollution.  the idea is that we stop making those altogether, or only use them to distribute life-giving essentials rather than distorted poisons that used to be medicine.  gradual decline of product is everyone’s fault/business.  i consume, you consume, we consumers be.  we can do that better and we can befriend the trees.  man, you cannot live on rhyming couplets.  the system beat any notion of “manliness” out of me a long time ago, so that’s just a painful reminder of an unattainable standard.  fuck, if i were a man, i wouldn’t be a girl.  i think it’s pretty bunk if you claim both physical genitalia if you don’t have them, but then again, competitors lie about everything, don’t they.  i don’t know, sir.

this is a lot of words, sir.  this chair is getting uncomfortable.  should we move to the cushy chair or repurpose the mousepad?  hmm.  hat.  it’s 88 degrees outside.  why am i not cavorting in the sunshine with dirty hippies?  good question.  probably because you’re a crushed empty husk of a man and hippy is mostly fashion.  the general term, no one person is that.  actual people’s fashion reflects their personality.  which would make me patchwork.  i am not quilted, i’m layered.

are we about done here.  we are about.

peace, thank you, love,
t

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~ by LazyAssWasteoid on 2012-05-2 (Wednesday).

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