it’s going to take like a year to upload all of these on my computer. people should care, which is why I am using the data. the data does what the data needs/says. we had another one, and the camera didn’t save it. the battery went dead. there’s a lot of beautiful pictures on there. I know. how do we share them all? keep uploading son, keep uploading. k.
youtube’s time estimator is utterly worthless (thanks for that phrase, pops). 20 minutes ago, it said five minutes, and that was after adding a minute each of the 3 times I checked it. yup, first it said “Uploading your video. 3 minutes remaining. Your video will be live at: http://youtu.be/W5sYhyJrZso” and the next time it said four, then five. the percentage increased gradually, but without rate and bits completed, it’s hard to say if it’s frozen. apparently, it hasn’t. this is my fault. I know. hehehe. diddle-farting is all anyone does. hehehehe. I know.
4:50 pm. I will hibernate through this winter, won’t I. I remember being used to be a person with things to do. I have so much to do, I don’t know where to go next. what to do, next. I tend to type, and dance, and make videos. and get high. i’m lonely as hell, sensitive to these abrasive asstards, and still pretty hungry.
places which could help me
- RV repair/dealership
- cooperative engineering firm
- menards engineering truss/deck department
- RadioShack (it’s on sale!)
- the energy bootlegger
- Permaculture (get a design certificate)
- farmers, workers, humans, eaters, pet owners, consultants, and friends
how many angles have you run a business from? either none, or a lot. I don’t care. what do you have to offer me now? a communication cooperative. how’s that? we have an app(lication), and a website, which is also, an app. deer tick – easy that sounds like we have more than we do. oh, we have all of that, but with a membership of one, it doesn’t amount to much. we’re more like a wrecking ball thus far. I know. there aren’t that many buildings that need to be torn down. says you. each stage of destruction can be another design opportunity. oh, you, and your opportunities. yup. everywhere. 😀
it’s 1:35 pm, and I am typing in emy j’s. you don’t’ know. but, I am here to tell you.
it’s going to have to be some big uber-party, isn’t it. camping? I don’t know if it will be that, exactly. it’s all going on as it needs to. some people are learning permaculture, and others are meeting those who have already been thoroughly educated in permaculture. I got to connect the industrials with the industrials. fuck, yeah. industrial permaculture. indestructo-permaculture.
events. whoever is within range can show up. trade skills. my assessment. they bring heavy equipment projects, they plant, re-plant, and incorporate your essential equipment into the permaculturing of the design. a big part of that is going to be flexibility. if a crop gets eaten by a bumper crop of bunnies, maybe we’re adding dressed rabbits to the csa boxes. think both inside and outside, of the box. become the box. the regularity, the cyclical nature of it, is good for you, for it mirrors the rolling of the celestial spheres, or the what we have been told are orbits. these are the corkscrews of life. yes, it is a roller-coaster, and the zero-g feeling you are experiencing at this moment is perfectly natural. enjoy. 😀
so, yeah. if nobody wants to participate in the upgrade of my home, that’s fine. let’s upgrade yours, then. let’s upgrade both of them. all of them. vehicles, too. I will work with your scraps. with your seconds. I am your discard. use me up.
I just now started uploading a 213 mb video at emy j’s. it says ten minutes. it’s 1:50pm now. don’t bet on it. ok. please bits, godspeed. arf. lol
did the internet bits just arf at you? I don’t know, I think so. a fireplace in the fourth wall. that’s crazy-talk. I like it. do we need to find that tweet? skeet skeet. nah. I mean, maybe we will later, but this is hitting a pace. are we headed back to plover? almond. birds and nuts, birds and nuts. the world will be saved by birds and nuts. arf.
the video I got today is pretty crappy. I need a steady cam. the audio is divine. geese and ducks and car noises something fierce. rawr. and snuffalumpagruff all sniffling all over it, too. and giggling at the duckies. oh, dictator, you are a childish clown. hehehehe. I know.
weekly meals? why weekly? you eat every day, don’t you? I need constant supervision just like you do. that’s ok. I do best without supervision. I am supervision. adding additional layers of “consideration of the big picture” are redundant. the reason I am rejected from crapitulatism and its various contents, is that I refuse to let inefficiencies remain where certain parties benefit. I will eliminate my own job. that has always been my goal. yes, redunancies are planned. redundancies are layered. this is how natural systems operate. this ~IS~ a natural system.
co-worker is here. I remember that. I did that. oh, different story. unrelated thing. I was reminded of a photobomber by a doppleganger. it’s done. on schedule. that is daf. I started calling things dope as fuck, like daffy. the duck. I have ducks on the brain lately. all sorta birds. ooh, birdfarm. yeah, we got pigeoners, yeah we got goosers and fowlers of all stripes. I know people. people know me. I enjoy watching their lives from close up, then from afar, and commenting, electronically. let’s turn it into a story, then. I have some great scenes in my skull. concert footage. collaborative crowd yoga. no, ninjitsu. it’s all the same game, really. meat movement.
we, uhh, some of us, sir, would like to get the house shored up. I know. I do get sidetracked, don’t I. you put it to good use. she said hello. that lady is super-beautiful, and married to a cop. my cousin gots one of those, too. all my cousins marry beautiful. we have good jeans. genes, too. ah, inside family jokes for the anti-family. they would help, if you let them help how they want. I honestly can’t speculate on their thought processes, being that they never communicate with me, or make any public indication as to their thoughts. only invitations to holy day gluttony. yup, they gang up on me, force-feed me and provide all sorts of addictive substances to satiate me, knowing how I starve myself most of the time. oh, stop. we got cookies and muffins and that cheese danish we ate for breakfast from the store dumpster on the way home from the bar last night. I drink on my time, with my people. I don’t want to encourage tweets to drink, but they do. many. I run in a lot of different circles. the story’s pretty much the same in all of them. I communicate with the most beautiful and communications-capable in the room, at all moments. I go where I want, when I want, and I tread lightly. except when I don’t. crybaby can put on quite the stomping fit. yeah, so i’ve heard. I pulled out that frightful yeller the other day. it came out as a whisper, but dictator getting’ screamy. what if we had a band full of people we couldn’t stand. they could like each other. they’re gonna leave you in a ditch somewhere, dude. that’s fine. as long as they fucking play the songs as agreed. you’re a jerk. see ya. apologies. 2:12 pm.
2:52 pm, got ccr in my head. tweeting spurt. when classick rockers grow up and play boring, slower renditions of their own boring songs, oh that’s why they call it rendition, huh. re-retardation. why are you so mean to the slow? because they insist that slowness is a necessity, when it is not. they’re lying, they’re not slow. and, i’m not mean. I put carrots in front of them, I blaze trails all over the place. I befriend the local wildlife. you don’t think we need the ducks and geese’s help with this stuff? EVERY SINGLE MOMENT OF THE DICTATOR’S LIFE IS SUPER-SCIENTIFICALLY DESIGNED TO BENEFIT THE LARGEST PERCENTAGE OF HUMANITY THAN HUMANLY POSSIBLE. we are a different species? in a sense, yes. cross-breeding, son. ah. aminal husbandry? something like that. well, the ducks can talk to the chickens better, what with their range and all. we all need mobile communicators to tell us what’s going on the ground in other areas. what, you want to do all this data bassing onlines? you don’t even know how to use onlines. data bases. owl bee long, tew us. chair dancing to 2 won too. this shipping mine. uh
I don’t think there are any permaculture institutions who give honorary degrees, and I don’t think you qualify, at the moment. if you could build erv in a weekend without actually lifting a finger yourself, then perhaps. seriously, the rake handles are load-bearing elements when they’re not rakes. the vehicle itself is the tool, is the designer. it ~is~ the skyscaper. it will have cameras on all four corners, and on the mast. it’ll have a front-center, and a rear-center camera. we will record audio all over it, too. yes, all computer controlled. yes, a home-built machine.
i’ve been thinking about this, and we probably need a new laptop. oh, stop. a linux tablet that can do a usb keyboard would work fine. you put the cart ahead of the horse when you don’t have a horse, or a cart. I have the cart, and the horses. I want to trade.
here, I acknowledge my uselessness. I hereby disavow all the hours I have put into skyscaper permaculture. yeah, fuck you. i’ll take it in flesh. i’ve already taken it in flesh. whatever. now, i’ve already taken it in alcohol. whatever. you don’t have to talk to a real-estate person. why not? that could and should give us some perspective.
kid, that time magazine will rot your brain like tv. a little girl looked at me as she walked in. I smiled. she furrowed her brow. I laughed. she smiled. kids are cool because they interact with people via instinctual means. eye contact. they’re like animals that way. adults will go exclusively on verbal/aesthetic clues. ok, not that scent doesn’t matter, when interacting with humans. we are pretty ripe today. that is intentional, I feel. that phrase, I feel, is from seth. no, not the channelled alien, my friend from high school. I tend not to even like the use of the posessive “my” when referring to people. I don’t want to own anyone. if you don’t want to be in my stanky aura of your own free will, don’t. oh, they know. all’s i’m saying is, there are good, decent, and concrete reasons you’d want a dictator as a slave. you don’t say. in as much as you can enslave a dictator. or, THE for that matter. yah, whatever. tiggler tavvey can’t claim any ownership of the archetype of dictaotr/slave. now we chair-dancing to fatboy slim – ya mama.
I know thish is a very forward thing to say, and I say a lot of forward things like it. stop with the extended introductions. you earthlings waste so much time on retardo-formalities. get to the point. we don’t know what the point is. ok. sit or stand quietly, then. smile while you think. raise your hand for silence. please respect the hands, everyone. sparkle for agreement. you have to get in the practice of these non-verbal commuications. more eye contact. more data can flow between human eyeballs and skin, even at a distance, than through symbolized language. poet-dancers know this. musicians know this. delivery, kids. it’s all about. this easy song is hella pretty. it’s melancholic, and encouraging, until it becomes despondent and whiny. holy god, that’s beautiful. I want to give it a hug, this deer tick song. there it goes again, hugging songs. it’s all about class. no struggle. know, believe, and do. dew. droplets in the morning. I utilize the copy and paste functions a lot in my blogging. one time, when I worked at wales frargow, I was working on a spreadsheet. the department-authorized improver of forms was looking over me. I keyboard-shortcutted around that spreadsheet, changing cell attributes without my fingers leaving the keyboard, and control-arrowing around to and through filled cells with a quickness. she said, “wow.” I did all the work already. it took me twenty minutes. when you’re done with your blustering, let’s start building, eh? yes, everyone needs to build. increase the capacity, influx of bandwidth. noise-centralization, wind-funnel-gyratioons, and sun-heated waters to melt snow and clean our plants, animals, and very bodies. yes, we integrate rats into our permaculture systems. given the proper cleaning apparatus, they are incredibly useful helpers, and they are cleaner than humans. this is a function of size, you bigger/louder-is-better/smarter delude-a-matronz. zombified tv-viewers. of planet retard slave. stop calling us that. stop being that. do you not see how ridiculously stupid easy the implementation of local currency would be? you need an influx, and an output. one place where you obtain the local currency for something that you do. you can add value, with your labor, with the use of your property, etc. then, you need some thing for which you currently pay cashs for. this could be anything from the use of property to fuel to ice cream. yes, I want to offer my whoring services to the greater public association of humans, and I want to be able to get coffee and ice cream and my daily supply of marijuana in exchange for my time and services. one who is not gentle enough cannot complete the task at all. you can’t ask a tractor mechanic to perform brain surgery without gearing it down a bit. yes, it’s entirely possible because it’s EXACTLY THE SAME THING. all your skills, mechanical, aetherial, or otherwise. let’s twiddle some stuff. what, like tweet? maybe. this paragraph is getting out of hand. let’s wait until the clock is pretty numbers. I have been known to do that. *dictator makes us take a bathroom break* stop typing already?! know. 3:33 pm
I told him i’d play chess with him any time we were in here. i’ve seen him here before. all the little animals know other little animals. of course I network with children. they have unique networks. they go places I cannot go. they see things from a perspective I cannot share. I am them, have been. they are me, will be.
do we need to go more into the negotiation/interaction of plover and almond? I think that would be helpful. we don’t need a pocket computer. we need a smaller, faster, backpack computer. this attached keyboard is awful useful. yah, ok.
so, here’s how it’s going to work. i’m going to show up on your property, with friends of a permaculture stripe. because, I want them to see what you have done, what you are capable of. yeah, it can drive barn-nails with a framing hammer. hoy-ya. coffee is my tweak. you have not seen the dictator in comfort in quite a time. the weed takes the edge off the terror. my terror, or yours? terroir. terrier. tary-oy-err. yes, we need designers of the three-dimensional. how do we get that out without calling everyone fascist retards. we don’t. they have to accept either a) that they are, and that that’s ok, or b) that you are a delusional, homeless moron. in which case, they will agree to tolerate your eccentricities in the insult department, in exchange for the unique services which you do provide. the twiddling? yes, my fingers are dextrous. not dextrose. fur cereal. it’s not jess 4-breakfast any moor. you are dirty when you’re talking in front of children, aren’t you. well, yes, but not jarring. not stress-inducing. I will not remove your supply of survival tickets, nor will I impede your movement about this planet. nor will I ensnare you verbally, that I may beat you verbally as others have done to me. if I revert, please alert me. I will do the same. I will always do that of which I am capable. my capabilities are restricted in strange ways. walls, some of which were built for me, others which I built from the scraps of secondary interactions. this is useful, this time-aloneness. I see things. I feel things. you can shove the entire concept of “worship” right down your sugar-filled gullet. war ship. hell, you people put so much stuff on pedestals, you’d think this place was tropical. the earth has warmth which is captured by based mints. rooted cellars. booted fellers. I am farm-ready. gimmie some dirt, and a twat to stick it in. holy god, you are crass. I know. I prefer vagina that is attached to willing, conscious participants of both physical maturity and legal temporal experience for my baby-planting designs. cum on! why can I not have cute kids everywhere? other little rugrats that smell like me. they’ll probably help me interact with these human peoples, too. yeah, probably. so would a dog. so would a dog what? help your socialization. dogs are people too. yah, I know, that’s my point. they’re more human than you are, your highness. well, yes. I do smoke a lot of marijuana, don’t I. that plant is smarter than you, sir. i’d be careful. oh, I am. it is my family. until it instructs me where I am to go, I sit right, here. chair-dancing and smiling and laughing at birds and children, until those around me can sense the usefulness which my presents can provide.
free permaculture consultation.
I was thinking about some words lately. have I ranted sufficiently about “that sucks/blows” being an allusion to rape? I hope so. stop saying that. stop seeing the negative in everything. your powers of discernment are for shit, for I see beauty and worderment in all these same things you impose death upon. let it be. you are fine. no, but I was thinking about “slut” this time. I have serious venom for that word. I think it means you are a person who turns me on, unabashedly, yet you take no responsibility for this, or you leverage it to your benefit, while frustrating me. it’s kind of a rapey thing to say. yes, it’s somewhat threatening. stop using it. stop jokingly referring to people as such horribly condemning things. stop condemning sex acts generally, you fucking prudes. get over your churchy selves. one of these meetings, we’re going to strip everyone down and make them exist naked in front of each other. yes, I think this serves a number of purposes. those who say rapey things will have their peepees whacked by the baliff. because, they freeze those who are not ready for that. stop it. it serves no purpose than the bolstering of your pathetic little ego. yes, all egos are pathetic. you are the same worthless decaying organic matter as everyone else. you are a tiny percentage of the humans on this planet, too. exactly the same percentage as EVERY OTHER MEATBOT, BE THEY SQUIRREL, DUCK, GOOSE, OR CHILD. cripes. stop getting all yelly. jesus fuck, why. oh, that’ worse. go back to yelling gentle kind things. OK. THANK YOU, I LOVE YOU, YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL AND I APPRECIATE BEING ABLE TO SEE YOU, SPEAK TO YOU, DANCE FOR YOU, AND WRITE WORDS FOR YOU. I don’t know where they came from, and I sure don’t seem to know where they’re going. that, is ok. we are forgiving of ourself, and patient with our pace.
we have a project, and we would like to work with you.
are you serious? that’s a completely disrespectful thing to say to someone. if you are in the habit of saying not serious things to people, I may rescind my offer to work with you. nor do I appreciate the implication that I am lying. yes, I am entirely serious. extend your hand in a peace offering in order to continue. to take an extended break and continue on your own time and terms, e-mail lawleft at gmail. that means we’re done. 4:11 pm. peace, youse.
thank you, I love you. love you, beautiful. peace,
p.s. I now have HD video capabilities and the analog SLR upon which I learned photography, plus a bunch of film. I will match you, skin for skin. face/hands is entirely acceptable. yes, you get to drive. yes, you participate in the design/locale. I am not pre-agreeing to make porn with everyone, but if we are compatible, we can probably do business. yeah, I am that. love u, too. ;p