Kaftka...I think thats how you spell it....
"...and I dream of a grave, deep and narrow, where we could clasp each other in our arms as with clamps, and I would hide my face in you and you would hide your face in me, and nobody would ever see us anymore.")
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Thursday, November 23, 2006
It is real and you are an idiot...
The first thing we want to think about is the fact that the word "conspiracy" evokes such a strong reaction in all of us: nobody wants to be branded as a "conspiracy thinker." It just isn't "acceptable." It's "un-scientific" or it's evidence of mental instability. Right? That's what you are thinking, isn't it?
In fact, I bet that the very reading of the word even produces certain physiological reactions: a slight acceleration of the heartbeat, and perhaps a quick glance around to make sure that no one was watching while you simply read the word silently.
Have you ever asked yourself WHY the word evokes such an instantaneous emotional reaction? Have you ever wondered why it stimulates such a strong "recoil?" After all, it is only a word. It only describes the idea of people in "high places" thinking about things and doing things that manipulate other people to produce benefits for themselves.
Richard M. Dolan studied at Alfred University and Oxford University before completing his graduate work in history at the University of Rochester, where he was a finalist for a Rhodes scholarship. Dolan studied U.S. Cold War strategy, Soviet history and culture, and international diplomacy. He has written about "conspiracy" in the following way:
The very label [conspiracy] serves as an automatic dismissal, as though no one ever acts in secret. Let us bring some perspective and common sense to this issue.
The United States comprises large organizations - corporations, bureaucracies, "interest groups," and the like - which are conspiratorial by nature. That is, they are hierarchical, their important decisions are made in secret by a few key decision-makers, and they are not above lying about their activities. Such is the nature of organizational behavior. "Conspiracy," in this key sense, is a way of life around the globe.
Within the world's military and intelligence apparatuses, this tendency is magnified to the greatest extreme. During the 1940s, [...] the military and its scientists developed the world's most awesome weapons in complete secrecy... [...]
Anyone who has lived in a repressive society knows that official manipulation of the truth occurs daily. But societies have their many and their few. In all times and all places, it is the few who rule, and the few who exert dominant influence over what we may call official culture. - All elites take care to manipulate public information to maintain existing structures of power. It's an old game.
America is nominally a republic and free society, but in reality an empire and oligarchy, vaguely aware of its own oppression, within and without. I have used the term "national security state" to describe its structures of power. It is a convenient way to express the military and intelligence communities, as well as the worlds that feed upon them, such as defense contractors and other underground, nebulous entities. Its fundamental traits are secrecy, wealth, independence, power, and duplicity.
Nearly everything of significance undertaken by America's military and intelligence community in the past half-century has occured in secrecy. The undertaking to build an atomic weapon, better known as the Manhattan Project, remains the great model for all subsequent activities. For more than two years, not a single member of Congress even knew about it although its final cost exceeded two billion dollars.
During and after the Second World War, other important projects, such as the development of biological weapons, the importation of Nazi scientists, terminal mind-control experiments, nationwide interception of mail and cable transmissions of an unwitting populace, infiltration of the media and universities, secret coups, secret wars, and assassinations all took place far removed not only from the American public, but from most members of Congress and a few presidents. Indeed, several of the most powerful intelligence agencies were themselves established in secrecy, unknown by the public or Congress for many years.
Since the 1940s, the US Defense and Intelligence establishment has had more money at its disposal than most nations. In addition to official dollars, much of the money is undocumented. From its beginning, the CIA was engaged in a variety of off-the-record "business" activities that generated large sums of cash. The connections of the CIA with global organized crime (and thus de facto with the international narcotics trade) has been well established and documented for many years. - Much of the original money to run the American intelligence community came from very wealthy and established American families, who have long maintained an interest in funding national security operations important to their interests.
In theory, civilian oversight exists over the US national security establishment. The president is the military commander-in-chief. Congress has official oversight over the CIA. The FBI must answer to the Justice Department. In practice, little of this applies. One reason has to do with secrecy. [...]
A chilling example of such independence occurred during the 1950s, when President Eisenhower effectively lost control of the US nuclear arsenal. The situation deteriorated so much that during his final two years in office, Eisenhower asked repeatedly for an audience with the head of Strategic Air Command to learn what America's nuclear retaliatory plan was. What he finally learned in 1960, his final year in office, horrified him: half of the Northern Hemisphere would be obliterated.
If a revered military hero such as Eisenhower could not control America's nuclear arsenal, nor get a straight answer from the Pentagon, how on earth could Presidents Truman, Kennedy, Johnson, or Nixon regarding comparable matters?
Secrecy, wealth and independence add up to power. Through the years, the national security state has gained access to the wrorld's most sophisticated technology sealed off millions of acres of land from public access or scrutiny, acquired unlimited snooping ability within US borders and beyond, conducted overt or clandestine actions against other nations, and prosecuted wars without serious media scrutiny. Domestically, it maintains influence over elected officials and communities hoping for some of the billions of defense dollars. [including scientists, universities, etc.]
Deception is the key element of warfare, and when winning is all that matters, the conventional morality held by ordinary people becomes an impediment. When taken together, the examples of official duplicity form a nearly single totality. They include such choice morsels as the phony war crisis of 1948, the fabricated missile gap claimed by the air force during the 1950s, the carefully managed events leading to the Gulf of Tonkin resolution... [...]
The secrecy stems from a pervasive and fundamental element of life in our world, that those who are at the top of the heap will always take whatever steps are necessary to maintain the status quo.
[S]keptics often ask, "Do you really think the government could hide [anything] for so long?" The question itself reflects ignorance of the reality that secrecy is a way of life in the National Security State. Actually though, the answer is yes, and no.
Yes, in that cover-ups are standard operating procedure, frequently unknown to the public for decades, becoming public knowledge by a mere roll of the dice. But also no, in that ... information has leaked out from the very beginning. It is impossible to shut the lid completely. The key lies in neutralizing and discrediting unwelcomed information, sometimes through official denial, other times through proxies in the media.
[E]vidence [of conspiracy] derived from a grass roots level is unlikely to survive its inevitable conflict with official culture. And acknowledgement about the reality of [conspiracies] will only occur when the official culture deems it worthwhile or necessary to make it. Don't hold your breath.
This is a widespread phenomenon affecting many people, generating high levels of interest, taking place in near-complete secrecy, for purposes unknown, by agencies unknown, with access to incredible resources and technology. A sobering thought and cause for reflection.
[Richard Dolan]
Consider this: even if Dolan is writing specifically about America, in a world dominated by the United States, it must be considered that pressures are applied elsewhere from within this "national security state" to comply with the demands of the US.
Now, think about the word "conspiracy" one more time and allow me to emphasize the key point: From a historical point of view, the ONLY reality is that of conspiracy. Secrecy, wealth and independence add up to power. ...Deception is the key element of warfare, (the tool of power elites), and when winning is all that matters, the conventional morality held by ordinary people becomes an impediment. Secrecy stems from a pervasive and fundamental element of life in our world, that those who are at the top of the heap will always take whatever steps are necessary to maintain the status quo.
In fact, I bet that the very reading of the word even produces certain physiological reactions: a slight acceleration of the heartbeat, and perhaps a quick glance around to make sure that no one was watching while you simply read the word silently.
Have you ever asked yourself WHY the word evokes such an instantaneous emotional reaction? Have you ever wondered why it stimulates such a strong "recoil?" After all, it is only a word. It only describes the idea of people in "high places" thinking about things and doing things that manipulate other people to produce benefits for themselves.
Richard M. Dolan studied at Alfred University and Oxford University before completing his graduate work in history at the University of Rochester, where he was a finalist for a Rhodes scholarship. Dolan studied U.S. Cold War strategy, Soviet history and culture, and international diplomacy. He has written about "conspiracy" in the following way:
The very label [conspiracy] serves as an automatic dismissal, as though no one ever acts in secret. Let us bring some perspective and common sense to this issue.
The United States comprises large organizations - corporations, bureaucracies, "interest groups," and the like - which are conspiratorial by nature. That is, they are hierarchical, their important decisions are made in secret by a few key decision-makers, and they are not above lying about their activities. Such is the nature of organizational behavior. "Conspiracy," in this key sense, is a way of life around the globe.
Within the world's military and intelligence apparatuses, this tendency is magnified to the greatest extreme. During the 1940s, [...] the military and its scientists developed the world's most awesome weapons in complete secrecy... [...]
Anyone who has lived in a repressive society knows that official manipulation of the truth occurs daily. But societies have their many and their few. In all times and all places, it is the few who rule, and the few who exert dominant influence over what we may call official culture. - All elites take care to manipulate public information to maintain existing structures of power. It's an old game.
America is nominally a republic and free society, but in reality an empire and oligarchy, vaguely aware of its own oppression, within and without. I have used the term "national security state" to describe its structures of power. It is a convenient way to express the military and intelligence communities, as well as the worlds that feed upon them, such as defense contractors and other underground, nebulous entities. Its fundamental traits are secrecy, wealth, independence, power, and duplicity.
Nearly everything of significance undertaken by America's military and intelligence community in the past half-century has occured in secrecy. The undertaking to build an atomic weapon, better known as the Manhattan Project, remains the great model for all subsequent activities. For more than two years, not a single member of Congress even knew about it although its final cost exceeded two billion dollars.
During and after the Second World War, other important projects, such as the development of biological weapons, the importation of Nazi scientists, terminal mind-control experiments, nationwide interception of mail and cable transmissions of an unwitting populace, infiltration of the media and universities, secret coups, secret wars, and assassinations all took place far removed not only from the American public, but from most members of Congress and a few presidents. Indeed, several of the most powerful intelligence agencies were themselves established in secrecy, unknown by the public or Congress for many years.
Since the 1940s, the US Defense and Intelligence establishment has had more money at its disposal than most nations. In addition to official dollars, much of the money is undocumented. From its beginning, the CIA was engaged in a variety of off-the-record "business" activities that generated large sums of cash. The connections of the CIA with global organized crime (and thus de facto with the international narcotics trade) has been well established and documented for many years. - Much of the original money to run the American intelligence community came from very wealthy and established American families, who have long maintained an interest in funding national security operations important to their interests.
In theory, civilian oversight exists over the US national security establishment. The president is the military commander-in-chief. Congress has official oversight over the CIA. The FBI must answer to the Justice Department. In practice, little of this applies. One reason has to do with secrecy. [...]
A chilling example of such independence occurred during the 1950s, when President Eisenhower effectively lost control of the US nuclear arsenal. The situation deteriorated so much that during his final two years in office, Eisenhower asked repeatedly for an audience with the head of Strategic Air Command to learn what America's nuclear retaliatory plan was. What he finally learned in 1960, his final year in office, horrified him: half of the Northern Hemisphere would be obliterated.
If a revered military hero such as Eisenhower could not control America's nuclear arsenal, nor get a straight answer from the Pentagon, how on earth could Presidents Truman, Kennedy, Johnson, or Nixon regarding comparable matters?
Secrecy, wealth and independence add up to power. Through the years, the national security state has gained access to the wrorld's most sophisticated technology sealed off millions of acres of land from public access or scrutiny, acquired unlimited snooping ability within US borders and beyond, conducted overt or clandestine actions against other nations, and prosecuted wars without serious media scrutiny. Domestically, it maintains influence over elected officials and communities hoping for some of the billions of defense dollars. [including scientists, universities, etc.]
Deception is the key element of warfare, and when winning is all that matters, the conventional morality held by ordinary people becomes an impediment. When taken together, the examples of official duplicity form a nearly single totality. They include such choice morsels as the phony war crisis of 1948, the fabricated missile gap claimed by the air force during the 1950s, the carefully managed events leading to the Gulf of Tonkin resolution... [...]
The secrecy stems from a pervasive and fundamental element of life in our world, that those who are at the top of the heap will always take whatever steps are necessary to maintain the status quo.
[S]keptics often ask, "Do you really think the government could hide [anything] for so long?" The question itself reflects ignorance of the reality that secrecy is a way of life in the National Security State. Actually though, the answer is yes, and no.
Yes, in that cover-ups are standard operating procedure, frequently unknown to the public for decades, becoming public knowledge by a mere roll of the dice. But also no, in that ... information has leaked out from the very beginning. It is impossible to shut the lid completely. The key lies in neutralizing and discrediting unwelcomed information, sometimes through official denial, other times through proxies in the media.
[E]vidence [of conspiracy] derived from a grass roots level is unlikely to survive its inevitable conflict with official culture. And acknowledgement about the reality of [conspiracies] will only occur when the official culture deems it worthwhile or necessary to make it. Don't hold your breath.
This is a widespread phenomenon affecting many people, generating high levels of interest, taking place in near-complete secrecy, for purposes unknown, by agencies unknown, with access to incredible resources and technology. A sobering thought and cause for reflection.
[Richard Dolan]
Consider this: even if Dolan is writing specifically about America, in a world dominated by the United States, it must be considered that pressures are applied elsewhere from within this "national security state" to comply with the demands of the US.
Now, think about the word "conspiracy" one more time and allow me to emphasize the key point: From a historical point of view, the ONLY reality is that of conspiracy. Secrecy, wealth and independence add up to power. ...Deception is the key element of warfare, (the tool of power elites), and when winning is all that matters, the conventional morality held by ordinary people becomes an impediment. Secrecy stems from a pervasive and fundamental element of life in our world, that those who are at the top of the heap will always take whatever steps are necessary to maintain the status quo.
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
maybe this is my problem...
If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away.
Henry David Thoreau, Walden, Conclusion, 1854
my drum is off
Henry David Thoreau, Walden, Conclusion, 1854
my drum is off
Saturday, October 21, 2006
the contamination....
every day that clocks by makes me sick with my own thoughts as though my mind is pushing only the filth of etheral consciousness through my veins. I am wasting away on the inside and its driving me mad with the inevitability of the future and the futility of trying to find a good place to be or way of life to undertake. I just hate not knowing and in my search for a more solid answer all I am getting more questions that are overtaking the original search in every way and I cannot stop. I look deeper and only get more questions that lead me to papers and current events that point to a past that no one seems to rememeber and there is no record of. I find rest only in the space between seconds and wonder where the end of the stars are and when I will get to go home. We are all made of stars and the comets are our parents when can we get to see the creator. When will my questions be answered? Where is the library where these answers reside? When was the last time we were, as a race, sitting exactly where we are right now? So many questions and not enough minds to ponder all the possible answers. Wait and wait some more. Take the slow path and have patience and the answers will be gladly provided at the end. you memories will start to make sense and your feelings will all be justified because your intuition is the only real intelligence that you posess.
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
A little to take the edge off...
Today I am feeling very....Empty. I don't know why I have a very bad craving for something destructive and self depreciating the kind of thing that could spell "T H E E N D" for me. I know most people cannot relate to feeling like they are dead inside but I am feeling this way more and more. Its how I felt when I was spinning my wheels in the military looking for a purpose where there was none. I hate so deep right now that I feel like I need the pain of a broken bone to remind me that I am something more then the intangible ghost piloting this machine. I helped someone very important at work write a document that is going out to everyone at my company which is a few thousand people and it made me smile. I like feeling useful but I hate rotting here with a direction and a rudder and no motor. Fuck me I want to destroy something beautiful.
I came up with a new expression that makes me feel alive when I use it but I wont say it because people worry when I talk crazy.
I came up with a new expression that makes me feel alive when I use it but I wont say it because people worry when I talk crazy.
Sunday, October 01, 2006
A little annoying...
I know that the only thing I will ever be known for is my death. I know that the works in my life while not important to everyone will mean everything to some. I never want to be special but I cannot shake the comments of others out of my head. How many times do you hear that your a very special person? How many times has someone ever told you that you changed their life? For the better or worse? How often do space out and dream about more and so much less all at the same time? I am lost in my own life and I feel like I am wasting away on the inside a little bit every day. Why do I scare some to death and others have and will never feel safer then they do when they are around me? I really should be medicated. Where are you? Your not alone just speak up. At least I am trying. What are you doing?
Friday, September 22, 2006
speak up...
I can feel all of you lurking just behind my eyes. I wonder where all of you are at and if you can feel me too. I can hear you echo my quesitons in your own minds but I dont know why. If your out there speak up, if you looking for me like I know I am passively looking for all of you please find me. We are all apart of the same purpose and one day we will meet and begin the end.
Thursday, September 21, 2006
between sleep and awake...
there is a rumor of a man...
of a myth or a legend and man so great that he can create and destroy and he holds our fate in his hands. a leader who can discern and is uncorruptable and man who is from where i am from but not of what i am. he a great man and he is who i am waiting to follow. he is strong and wise compassionate but discplined. he is decisive and always right but he is not perfect. he is above reproach and better then all of us combined. he can call the winds because he knows why they blow. he can calm the waves because he knows what makes them restless. He brought light to the depths because he wanted the depths to know he cares. He spoke to the restless souls and gave them rest. He is the one i wait for. he is coming and i can hear him calling.
The nemesis awaits....
there is a thing that lurks and I see his shadow from the corner of my eye. he is sitting in the corner with the horrors of this world waiting for the fight to begin. dont take notice even if you see them that only brings their attention upon your head. they wrek disaster and ill thoughts in those who listen. they cloud the ether with their stench and rob the innocent of their breath. they walk in the place between fear and insanity along the corridors between darkness and grey...they are those who cannot rest and those who will not die they are those who bring nightmares and frost...they are the ones who have always been here and long to be somewhere else as well...they will fight one day but they will not fight without reason...
its nice to sit between sanity and sleeplessness
of a myth or a legend and man so great that he can create and destroy and he holds our fate in his hands. a leader who can discern and is uncorruptable and man who is from where i am from but not of what i am. he a great man and he is who i am waiting to follow. he is strong and wise compassionate but discplined. he is decisive and always right but he is not perfect. he is above reproach and better then all of us combined. he can call the winds because he knows why they blow. he can calm the waves because he knows what makes them restless. He brought light to the depths because he wanted the depths to know he cares. He spoke to the restless souls and gave them rest. He is the one i wait for. he is coming and i can hear him calling.
The nemesis awaits....
there is a thing that lurks and I see his shadow from the corner of my eye. he is sitting in the corner with the horrors of this world waiting for the fight to begin. dont take notice even if you see them that only brings their attention upon your head. they wrek disaster and ill thoughts in those who listen. they cloud the ether with their stench and rob the innocent of their breath. they walk in the place between fear and insanity along the corridors between darkness and grey...they are those who cannot rest and those who will not die they are those who bring nightmares and frost...they are the ones who have always been here and long to be somewhere else as well...they will fight one day but they will not fight without reason...
its nice to sit between sanity and sleeplessness
are you a dreamer...
I am the dreamer who never was
the only one to ever create a thought beyond my grasp
the one who does not belong and never will
I am the dreamer
can you hear them weeping
they are still alive
each one holding the blueprint of the whole
can you ever comprehend what its like
all your dreams broken
all my aspirations and exaltations crushed by the erosion of reality
how brutal and a painful it is to be the dreamer
without anything else to dream
the dreamer with no children to nurture
all I have is the shore i created and the ocean that feeds on it
my own little infinity ending a grain at a time
the only one to ever create a thought beyond my grasp
the one who does not belong and never will
I am the dreamer
can you hear them weeping
they are still alive
each one holding the blueprint of the whole
can you ever comprehend what its like
all your dreams broken
all my aspirations and exaltations crushed by the erosion of reality
how brutal and a painful it is to be the dreamer
without anything else to dream
the dreamer with no children to nurture
all I have is the shore i created and the ocean that feeds on it
my own little infinity ending a grain at a time
What's that sound...
Can you hear that sound
the whisper weeping coming from the shore
its the sound of broken dreams
dashed on the cliffs of reality
can you feel them when you walk on the sand
the millions of dreams that have been ground to dust
can you soak all the imagination up that you never had
can you hear them all weeping in unison
The harder you hold them the more they slip away
its because they are not yours to realize
they will never be more then food for the sea
they are not yours their mine you see
the whisper weeping coming from the shore
its the sound of broken dreams
dashed on the cliffs of reality
can you feel them when you walk on the sand
the millions of dreams that have been ground to dust
can you soak all the imagination up that you never had
can you hear them all weeping in unison
The harder you hold them the more they slip away
its because they are not yours to realize
they will never be more then food for the sea
they are not yours their mine you see
Monday, September 11, 2006
Worthless...
I am sad that intergrity is worthless. It should be a crime not to have it. I wish that it would benefit everyone when you have it but it does not. I remember when I lost my fear. I have always wanted to die but I never wanted to have it be premature, when ever it happens it just happens. I started praying for it when I lost my fear. I say fear but it really started out as self loathing. When my hate for me was only my fear of my own ability and strength I was set free and no longer afraid. I no longer fear and I am truly free for hate and I wish everyone else could take my journey.
Saturday, August 26, 2006
Hard to prove...
There is a lot I learned but the most valuable lessons I have as of yet been unable to divine the means or method to my past. If I were to tell you as I have so many others upon meeting that I am going to manipulate you to do what ever I want and when I am done you will have no idea. Its not that your not smart enough to know when your being manipulated your just not smart enough to put what you want aside and look at what is really happening. When what you have been missing is being given freely and (seemingly) without consequence or cost then you will think no further then "This is perfect". Dont believe me? read this article from Esquire determine for your self. Everyone has needs and there are some who just know how to temporarily meet those needs. Like a race horse those kinds of people can get to the finish line faster then anyone else but they are not good for much else.
For two years, journalist Neil Strauss went undercover in a secret society of pickup artists for a book, The Game (ReganBooks). It is a world with its own code of conduct, its own language, and its own celebrities. An AFC—pickup-artist jargon for an average frustrated chump, a loser with women—Strauss was taken under the wings of the most powerful pickup artists in the world, who gave him a new name and transformed him into one of them. After more than a year of "sarging" (picking up women), he was named the best pickup artist in the community. In the following excerpt adapted from his book, he describes what it feels like to take on the most challenging quarry of them all.
AFTER EIGHTEEN MONTHS in the seduction community, not only had my dating life improved exponentially, so had my professional life. The skills I had amassed approaching over a thousand women in bars and clubs made me a much better interviewer. I discovered just how good when I was assigned an article on Britney Spears.
I didn't plan to sarge her. But she left me no choice.
"Was there a lot of pressure on you while making this album?"
Britney Spears: "What, now?"
"Was there pressure from yourself or the label to have a major hit this time around?"
"I have no idea."
"You have no idea?"
"I have no idea."
"I heard you did a track with the DFA that wasn't included on your new CD. Why was that?"
"What's the DFA?"
"They're two producers from New York, James Murphy and Tim Goldsworthy, who call themselves the DFA. Does that ring a bell?"
"Yeah, maybe they did something."
The interview was going nowhere. She was on autopilot. I looked at her, crossing her legs and fidgeting on the hotel-room couch next to me. She didn't give a shit. I was just an amount of time blocked off on her calendar, and she was tolerating it—poorly.
Her hair was tucked under a white Kangol hat and her thighs pushed at the seams of her faded blue jeans. She was one of the most desired women in the world. But in person, she looked like a corn-fed southern sorority girl. She had a beautiful face, lightly and perfectly touched with makeup, but there was something masculine about her. As a sexual icon, she was unintimidating and, I imagined, lonely.
A gear slammed down in my head.
There was only one way to save this interview: I had to sarge her. No matter what country I was in or what age or class or race of woman I was talking to, the game always worked. Besides, I had nothing to lose.
I folded my list of questions and put them in my back pocket. I had to treat her like any club girl with attention deficit disorder.
The first move was to hook her attention.
"I'll tell you something about yourself that other people probably don't know," I began. "People sometimes see you as shy or bitchy offstage, even though you aren't."
"Totally," she said.
"Do you want to know why?"
"Yeah." I was creating what's called a yes-ladder, capturing her attention by asking questions that require an obvious affirmative answer.
"I'm watching your eyes when you talk. And every time you think, they go down and to the left. That means you're a kinesthetic person. You're someone who lives in her feelings."
"Oh my God," she said. "That's totally true."
Of course it was. It was one of the value-demonstrating routines I'd developed in the community. The eye goes to one of seven different positions when someone thinks: Each position means the person is accessing a different part of their brain.
There is a simple structure most women must be led through. First, they must be opened; the ice must be broken in a way that doesn't make them uncomfortable. Next, a pickup artist needs to demonstrate higher value, to show why he stands out from all the other men a woman has the option of dating. Once she's convinced, he must build rapport and create a sense of emotional connection. Only then, at least if he's playing solid game, is it time to make a physical connection.
As I taught Britney how to read different types of eye movements, she clung to every word. Her legs uncrossed and she leaned in toward me.
"I didn't know this," she said. "Who told you this?"
I wanted to tell her, "A secret society of international pickup artists."
"It's something I observed from doing lots of interviews," I answered. "In fact, by watching the direction people's eyes move when they speak, you can tell whether they're telling the truth or not."
"So you're going to know if I'm lying?" She was looking at me entirely differently now. I wasn't a journalist anymore. I was someone she could learn from. I had demonstrated authority over her world, as the father of the seduction industry, Ross Jeffries, once told me.
"I can tell from your eye movements, from your eye contact, from the way you speak, and from your body language. There are many different ways to tell."
"I need to do psychology classes," she said, with endearing earnestness. "That would be so interesting to me, studying people." It was working. She was opening up. She kept talking: "And you could meet somebody or be out on a date and be like, 'Are they lying to me right now?' Oh my gosh."
It was time for the heavy artillery.
"I'll show you something really cool and then we'll get back to the interview," I said, throwing in a time constraint for good measure. "It'll be an experiment. I'm going to try to guess something that's in your thoughts."
Then I used a simple psychological gambit to guess the initials of an old friend she had an emotional connection to—someone I wouldn't know and hadn't heard of. The initials were GC. And I got one letter out of two correct. It was a new routine I was still learning, but it was good enough for her.
"I can't believe you did that! I probably have so many walls in front, so that's why you didn't get them both," she said. "Let's try it one more time."
"This time, why don't you try it?"
"I'm scared." She put her knuckle in her mouth and pinched the skin between her teeth. She had great teeth. They really were a perfect C shape. "I can't do that."
She was no longer Britney Spears. She was just a one-set, a lone target. Or, as Robert Greene would classify her in his breakdown of seducer's victims in The Art of Seduction, she was the lonely leader.
"We'll make it easier," I said. "I'm going to write down a number. And it's a number between one and ten. What I want you to do is not to think at all. There's no special ability required to read minds. Just quiet your internal chatter and really listen to your feelings."
I wrote a number on a piece of paper and handed it to her.
"Now tell me," I said, "the first number that you feel."
"What if it's wrong?" she asked. "It's probably wrong."
This was what we called in the field an LSE girl—she had low self-esteem.
"What do you think it is?"
"Seven," she said.
"Now turn over the paper," I told her.
She slowly turned it over, as if she were afraid to look, then moved it up to eye level and saw a big number seven staring right back at her.
She screamed, leaped off the couch, and ran to the hotel mirror. Her mouth hung agape as she looked her reflection in the eye.
"Oh my God," she said to her reflection. "I did that."
She was like a little girl seeing Britney Spears for the first time. She was her own fan.
"I just knew that it was seven!" she announced as she galloped back to the couch.
Of course she knew. That was the first magic trick I'd learned from Mystery, arguably the best pickup artist in the world: If you have someone choose a number between one and ten randomly, 70 percent of the time—especially if you rush their decision—that number will be seven.
So, yeah, I had tricked her. But her self-esteem needed a good boost.
"Cool interview!" she exclaimed. "I like this interview! This has been the best interview of my life!"
Then she turned her face toward mine, looked me in the eye, and asked, "Can we stop the tape recorder?"
For the next fifteen minutes, we talked about spirituality and writing and our lives. She was just a lost little girl going through a late emotional puberty. She was searching for something real to hold on to, something deeper than pop fame and the sycophancy of her handlers. I had demonstrated value, and now we were moving on to the rapport phase of seduction. Maybe Mystery was right: All human relationships follow the same formula.
Rapport equals trust plus comfort.
However, I had a job to do. I started the tape recorder and asked the questions I'd given her at the start of the interview, plus all the other questions I had. This time she gave me real answers, answers I could print.
When the hour was up, I stopped the tape recorder.
"You know," Britney said. "Everything happens for a reason."
"I truly believe that," I told her.
"I do, too." She touched my shoulder and a broad smile spread across her face. "I'd like to exchange numbers."
AFTER OUR HOUR was up, Britney left the room to change for an MTV interview. She returned ten minutes later with her publicist.
As she sat down in front of the cameras, her publicist looked at me strangely.
"You know, she's never done that with a writer before," she said.
"Really?" I asked.
"She said it was like the two of you were destined to meet."
The publicist and I stood next to each other in silence as the MTV interview began.
"So you had a crazy time out the other night," the interviewer asked.
"Yeah, I did," Britney answered.
"What was the energy level like in the club when you walked in and surprised everyone?"
"Oh, it was just crazy."
"And how much fun did you have?"
Suddenly, Britney stood up. "This isn't working," she told the crew.
"I'm not feeling this."
She pivoted on her heels and walked toward the door, leaving the crew and her assistants befuddled. As she passed me, the corners of her mouth turned upward, forming a conspiratorial smile. I had gotten to her. There was something deeper to Britney Spears than what the pop machine required of her.
The game, I realized, works better on celebrities than ordinary people. Because stars are so sheltered and their interactions limited, a demonstration of value or any other gambit holds ten times the power. In the days that followed, I thought often about what had happened. I had no illusions: Britney Spears wasn't attracted to me. She wasn't considering me as a potential mate. But I had interested her. And that was a step in the right direction. Pickup is a linear process: Capture the imagination first and the heart next.
Interest plus attraction plus seduction equals sex.
Of course, maybe this was all just self-hypnosis. For all I knew, she exchanged phone numbers with every journalist to make him feel special and ensure a good story. Her publicist probably had an answering service set up at that number specifically for gullible writers who thought they were pickup artists. Maybe I was the one being sarged, not her.
I would never know the truth.
I stared at that number every day, but I couldn't bring myself to dial it. I told myself that it was crossing a journalistic line: If she didn't like the piece I was writing (which was quite possible), I didn't want her to go on record saying I had written a bad article because she hadn't phoned back.
"Just call her," Mystery constantly prodded me. "What do you have to lose? Tell her, 'Can you not look like Britney Spears? We're going to do some crazy shit and we can't get caught. We're going to wear wigs and climb up to the Hollywood sign and touch it for good luck.' "
"If I had met her socially, fine. But this is a work assignment."
"You're playing the game at another level now. When the article is finished, it isn't an assignment anymore. So call her."
But I couldn't do it. If it had been any of the intimidatingly beautiful women I'd met early in my training and been too scared to ask out, I would have called back in a second. I had no fear of women like that anymore. I felt worthy. I'd proven that over and over since. But Britney Spears?
One's self-esteem can only grow so much in a year and a half.
For two years, journalist Neil Strauss went undercover in a secret society of pickup artists for a book, The Game (ReganBooks). It is a world with its own code of conduct, its own language, and its own celebrities. An AFC—pickup-artist jargon for an average frustrated chump, a loser with women—Strauss was taken under the wings of the most powerful pickup artists in the world, who gave him a new name and transformed him into one of them. After more than a year of "sarging" (picking up women), he was named the best pickup artist in the community. In the following excerpt adapted from his book, he describes what it feels like to take on the most challenging quarry of them all.
AFTER EIGHTEEN MONTHS in the seduction community, not only had my dating life improved exponentially, so had my professional life. The skills I had amassed approaching over a thousand women in bars and clubs made me a much better interviewer. I discovered just how good when I was assigned an article on Britney Spears.
I didn't plan to sarge her. But she left me no choice.
"Was there a lot of pressure on you while making this album?"
Britney Spears: "What, now?"
"Was there pressure from yourself or the label to have a major hit this time around?"
"I have no idea."
"You have no idea?"
"I have no idea."
"I heard you did a track with the DFA that wasn't included on your new CD. Why was that?"
"What's the DFA?"
"They're two producers from New York, James Murphy and Tim Goldsworthy, who call themselves the DFA. Does that ring a bell?"
"Yeah, maybe they did something."
The interview was going nowhere. She was on autopilot. I looked at her, crossing her legs and fidgeting on the hotel-room couch next to me. She didn't give a shit. I was just an amount of time blocked off on her calendar, and she was tolerating it—poorly.
Her hair was tucked under a white Kangol hat and her thighs pushed at the seams of her faded blue jeans. She was one of the most desired women in the world. But in person, she looked like a corn-fed southern sorority girl. She had a beautiful face, lightly and perfectly touched with makeup, but there was something masculine about her. As a sexual icon, she was unintimidating and, I imagined, lonely.
A gear slammed down in my head.
There was only one way to save this interview: I had to sarge her. No matter what country I was in or what age or class or race of woman I was talking to, the game always worked. Besides, I had nothing to lose.
I folded my list of questions and put them in my back pocket. I had to treat her like any club girl with attention deficit disorder.
The first move was to hook her attention.
"I'll tell you something about yourself that other people probably don't know," I began. "People sometimes see you as shy or bitchy offstage, even though you aren't."
"Totally," she said.
"Do you want to know why?"
"Yeah." I was creating what's called a yes-ladder, capturing her attention by asking questions that require an obvious affirmative answer.
"I'm watching your eyes when you talk. And every time you think, they go down and to the left. That means you're a kinesthetic person. You're someone who lives in her feelings."
"Oh my God," she said. "That's totally true."
Of course it was. It was one of the value-demonstrating routines I'd developed in the community. The eye goes to one of seven different positions when someone thinks: Each position means the person is accessing a different part of their brain.
There is a simple structure most women must be led through. First, they must be opened; the ice must be broken in a way that doesn't make them uncomfortable. Next, a pickup artist needs to demonstrate higher value, to show why he stands out from all the other men a woman has the option of dating. Once she's convinced, he must build rapport and create a sense of emotional connection. Only then, at least if he's playing solid game, is it time to make a physical connection.
As I taught Britney how to read different types of eye movements, she clung to every word. Her legs uncrossed and she leaned in toward me.
"I didn't know this," she said. "Who told you this?"
I wanted to tell her, "A secret society of international pickup artists."
"It's something I observed from doing lots of interviews," I answered. "In fact, by watching the direction people's eyes move when they speak, you can tell whether they're telling the truth or not."
"So you're going to know if I'm lying?" She was looking at me entirely differently now. I wasn't a journalist anymore. I was someone she could learn from. I had demonstrated authority over her world, as the father of the seduction industry, Ross Jeffries, once told me.
"I can tell from your eye movements, from your eye contact, from the way you speak, and from your body language. There are many different ways to tell."
"I need to do psychology classes," she said, with endearing earnestness. "That would be so interesting to me, studying people." It was working. She was opening up. She kept talking: "And you could meet somebody or be out on a date and be like, 'Are they lying to me right now?' Oh my gosh."
It was time for the heavy artillery.
"I'll show you something really cool and then we'll get back to the interview," I said, throwing in a time constraint for good measure. "It'll be an experiment. I'm going to try to guess something that's in your thoughts."
Then I used a simple psychological gambit to guess the initials of an old friend she had an emotional connection to—someone I wouldn't know and hadn't heard of. The initials were GC. And I got one letter out of two correct. It was a new routine I was still learning, but it was good enough for her.
"I can't believe you did that! I probably have so many walls in front, so that's why you didn't get them both," she said. "Let's try it one more time."
"This time, why don't you try it?"
"I'm scared." She put her knuckle in her mouth and pinched the skin between her teeth. She had great teeth. They really were a perfect C shape. "I can't do that."
She was no longer Britney Spears. She was just a one-set, a lone target. Or, as Robert Greene would classify her in his breakdown of seducer's victims in The Art of Seduction, she was the lonely leader.
"We'll make it easier," I said. "I'm going to write down a number. And it's a number between one and ten. What I want you to do is not to think at all. There's no special ability required to read minds. Just quiet your internal chatter and really listen to your feelings."
I wrote a number on a piece of paper and handed it to her.
"Now tell me," I said, "the first number that you feel."
"What if it's wrong?" she asked. "It's probably wrong."
This was what we called in the field an LSE girl—she had low self-esteem.
"What do you think it is?"
"Seven," she said.
"Now turn over the paper," I told her.
She slowly turned it over, as if she were afraid to look, then moved it up to eye level and saw a big number seven staring right back at her.
She screamed, leaped off the couch, and ran to the hotel mirror. Her mouth hung agape as she looked her reflection in the eye.
"Oh my God," she said to her reflection. "I did that."
She was like a little girl seeing Britney Spears for the first time. She was her own fan.
"I just knew that it was seven!" she announced as she galloped back to the couch.
Of course she knew. That was the first magic trick I'd learned from Mystery, arguably the best pickup artist in the world: If you have someone choose a number between one and ten randomly, 70 percent of the time—especially if you rush their decision—that number will be seven.
So, yeah, I had tricked her. But her self-esteem needed a good boost.
"Cool interview!" she exclaimed. "I like this interview! This has been the best interview of my life!"
Then she turned her face toward mine, looked me in the eye, and asked, "Can we stop the tape recorder?"
For the next fifteen minutes, we talked about spirituality and writing and our lives. She was just a lost little girl going through a late emotional puberty. She was searching for something real to hold on to, something deeper than pop fame and the sycophancy of her handlers. I had demonstrated value, and now we were moving on to the rapport phase of seduction. Maybe Mystery was right: All human relationships follow the same formula.
Rapport equals trust plus comfort.
However, I had a job to do. I started the tape recorder and asked the questions I'd given her at the start of the interview, plus all the other questions I had. This time she gave me real answers, answers I could print.
When the hour was up, I stopped the tape recorder.
"You know," Britney said. "Everything happens for a reason."
"I truly believe that," I told her.
"I do, too." She touched my shoulder and a broad smile spread across her face. "I'd like to exchange numbers."
AFTER OUR HOUR was up, Britney left the room to change for an MTV interview. She returned ten minutes later with her publicist.
As she sat down in front of the cameras, her publicist looked at me strangely.
"You know, she's never done that with a writer before," she said.
"Really?" I asked.
"She said it was like the two of you were destined to meet."
The publicist and I stood next to each other in silence as the MTV interview began.
"So you had a crazy time out the other night," the interviewer asked.
"Yeah, I did," Britney answered.
"What was the energy level like in the club when you walked in and surprised everyone?"
"Oh, it was just crazy."
"And how much fun did you have?"
Suddenly, Britney stood up. "This isn't working," she told the crew.
"I'm not feeling this."
She pivoted on her heels and walked toward the door, leaving the crew and her assistants befuddled. As she passed me, the corners of her mouth turned upward, forming a conspiratorial smile. I had gotten to her. There was something deeper to Britney Spears than what the pop machine required of her.
The game, I realized, works better on celebrities than ordinary people. Because stars are so sheltered and their interactions limited, a demonstration of value or any other gambit holds ten times the power. In the days that followed, I thought often about what had happened. I had no illusions: Britney Spears wasn't attracted to me. She wasn't considering me as a potential mate. But I had interested her. And that was a step in the right direction. Pickup is a linear process: Capture the imagination first and the heart next.
Interest plus attraction plus seduction equals sex.
Of course, maybe this was all just self-hypnosis. For all I knew, she exchanged phone numbers with every journalist to make him feel special and ensure a good story. Her publicist probably had an answering service set up at that number specifically for gullible writers who thought they were pickup artists. Maybe I was the one being sarged, not her.
I would never know the truth.
I stared at that number every day, but I couldn't bring myself to dial it. I told myself that it was crossing a journalistic line: If she didn't like the piece I was writing (which was quite possible), I didn't want her to go on record saying I had written a bad article because she hadn't phoned back.
"Just call her," Mystery constantly prodded me. "What do you have to lose? Tell her, 'Can you not look like Britney Spears? We're going to do some crazy shit and we can't get caught. We're going to wear wigs and climb up to the Hollywood sign and touch it for good luck.' "
"If I had met her socially, fine. But this is a work assignment."
"You're playing the game at another level now. When the article is finished, it isn't an assignment anymore. So call her."
But I couldn't do it. If it had been any of the intimidatingly beautiful women I'd met early in my training and been too scared to ask out, I would have called back in a second. I had no fear of women like that anymore. I felt worthy. I'd proven that over and over since. But Britney Spears?
One's self-esteem can only grow so much in a year and a half.
Sunday, August 13, 2006
a deeper mark...
its a dangerous place to be
a dangerous place to be
standing right there next to me
a very dangerous place indeed
the red spot on the wall
the scorch marks on the floor
that was the last person that knocked on my hearts door
looking for a handout and a little mana
this angles wings have been clipped for a reason
i am sitting among men because this is my punnishment
waiting for the redemption to come
so that i can atone with my own destruction
its a dangerous place to be
a dangerous place to be
standing right there next to me
a very dangerous place indeed
take a look at my smile and you wont see
that happiness you seek
i am neither gentle or docile or weak
look deeper and you will know
what everyone alread does
I am no good to my core
I never was
its a dangerous place to be
a dangerous place to be
standing right there next to me
a very dangerous place indeed
a dangerous place to be
standing right there next to me
a very dangerous place indeed
the red spot on the wall
the scorch marks on the floor
that was the last person that knocked on my hearts door
looking for a handout and a little mana
this angles wings have been clipped for a reason
i am sitting among men because this is my punnishment
waiting for the redemption to come
so that i can atone with my own destruction
its a dangerous place to be
a dangerous place to be
standing right there next to me
a very dangerous place indeed
take a look at my smile and you wont see
that happiness you seek
i am neither gentle or docile or weak
look deeper and you will know
what everyone alread does
I am no good to my core
I never was
its a dangerous place to be
a dangerous place to be
standing right there next to me
a very dangerous place indeed
A little sick...
I dont feel well. Its more then a flu or a cancer its almost ethereal and hanuting. Its in my stomach and chest and its making my arms weak and my head spin. Lately i have been on the verge of tears and feeling very unstable. I dont know why because of late I have been a very stable person. When I say of late I mean over the last few years.
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
Yes, they are....
I stumbled across something that I thought I would share.
Fox News Anchor Brit Hume
"Two hundred seventy-seven U.S. soldiers have now died in Iraq, which means that statistically speaking U.S. soldiers have less of a chance of dying from all causes in Iraq than citizens have of being murdered in California, which is roughly the same geographical size. The most recent statistics indicate California has more than 2,300 homicides each year, which means about 6.6 murders each day. Meanwhile, U.S. troops have been in Iraq for 160 days, which means they're incurring about 1.7 deaths, including illness and accidents each day."
August 26, 2003, Brit Hume Fox News
While a single death is a tragedy a thousand or two or ten or one hundred is merely a statistic. Those who went into the military voluntarily (last I checked that was everyone) should have known that there is always a chance of going to war and ending up dead when you join. I would also like to point out that when generals are more worried about public opinion then making sound tactical decisions then our people will die needlessly. Media can criticize all they want but to have a specialist with a PHD in political science on who has never seen war in any way other then through the media is no specialist. There is a dialogue that I think of when ever I get "self righteous" lately from the movie collateral:
VINCENT I didn't throw him, he fell.
MAX What'd he do to you?
VINCENT Nothing. I only met him one time.
MAX Then how can you kill him like that?
VINCENT I should only kill people after I get to know 'em?
Six billion people on the planet and you get bent out of shape 'cause of one fat guy?
MAX Who, who was he?
VINCENT What do you care? Ever hear of Rwanda?
MAX Rwanda. Yeah.
VINCENT Tens of thousands killed before sundown. Nobody's killed people that fast since Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Did you bat an eye, Max?
Now I would like everyone to think about this for a minute...I hope that helps put things in perspective. You cannot complain about a war where the dictator kill 300,000 civilians over their belief then complain about us not getting involved in a religious war between two countries who have had the same dispute for 6 decades. Make up your mind and when the cards are played out and you made the wrong decision then man up and admit it and accept the consequences. The consequence of supporting an invasion of Afghanistan was pretty much a tidal wave that will end in the UN occupation of most of the middle east. You supported it in the beginning and to stop now will only make the whole situation worse. Swallow the shit that came along with the sugar and accept it like you did the applause for your decision in the beginning.
Fox News Anchor Brit Hume
"Two hundred seventy-seven U.S. soldiers have now died in Iraq, which means that statistically speaking U.S. soldiers have less of a chance of dying from all causes in Iraq than citizens have of being murdered in California, which is roughly the same geographical size. The most recent statistics indicate California has more than 2,300 homicides each year, which means about 6.6 murders each day. Meanwhile, U.S. troops have been in Iraq for 160 days, which means they're incurring about 1.7 deaths, including illness and accidents each day."
August 26, 2003, Brit Hume Fox News
While a single death is a tragedy a thousand or two or ten or one hundred is merely a statistic. Those who went into the military voluntarily (last I checked that was everyone) should have known that there is always a chance of going to war and ending up dead when you join. I would also like to point out that when generals are more worried about public opinion then making sound tactical decisions then our people will die needlessly. Media can criticize all they want but to have a specialist with a PHD in political science on who has never seen war in any way other then through the media is no specialist. There is a dialogue that I think of when ever I get "self righteous" lately from the movie collateral:
VINCENT I didn't throw him, he fell.
MAX What'd he do to you?
VINCENT Nothing. I only met him one time.
MAX Then how can you kill him like that?
VINCENT I should only kill people after I get to know 'em?
Six billion people on the planet and you get bent out of shape 'cause of one fat guy?
MAX Who, who was he?
VINCENT What do you care? Ever hear of Rwanda?
MAX Rwanda. Yeah.
VINCENT Tens of thousands killed before sundown. Nobody's killed people that fast since Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Did you bat an eye, Max?
Now I would like everyone to think about this for a minute...I hope that helps put things in perspective. You cannot complain about a war where the dictator kill 300,000 civilians over their belief then complain about us not getting involved in a religious war between two countries who have had the same dispute for 6 decades. Make up your mind and when the cards are played out and you made the wrong decision then man up and admit it and accept the consequences. The consequence of supporting an invasion of Afghanistan was pretty much a tidal wave that will end in the UN occupation of most of the middle east. You supported it in the beginning and to stop now will only make the whole situation worse. Swallow the shit that came along with the sugar and accept it like you did the applause for your decision in the beginning.
Monday, July 24, 2006
So this is how it begins...
I wonder if a sword could talk what it would say as it was used for the last time and then put into a drawer somewhere to wither away slowly, there is no more dishonorable death then one that happens while your still alive. I think of a sword that was at one time use to render justice or dispense the will of Gd or fight to take back the holy land. A sword that was swung by the man who lead the Golden horde or the divine hand of the universe that brought the lost clans of Asia together under the great ruler Chin. Those swords were laid down never to be wielded by a deft hand again. This last thing reminds me that a sword is useless without a hand to use it. A person like a sword is only as useful as they allow them selves to be. Where I am going is this: We all have a purpose and we can accept it or not. I can feel my self becoming dull and wither away in the ways that make me special. I feel like as a part of me grows another part is dying twice as fast. There is a law in the medieval art of alchemy that states "To gain one thing you must give up something of equal or greater value. " I am sorry to all those I have let down in letting go the burden I was born with. Your life was written in the stars of mine and I know I have failed to touch you in the way I was supposed to. I am so very sorry to be the reason you are slipping away and I wish I was strong enough to do what I knew and still know I am born to do. Alas I am not and I don't ask your forgiveness, I ask only that you reserve your judgment for the creator. I belong to the creator and the creator alone and only the one and only, the most high Gd can judge my actions. I am weak. I am so sorry. You did not wear my mantle and I doubt you know its weight. I am not giving up, I am only making the necessary changes that I know I have to make to live the life I have chosen. Maybe this is all apart of the creators plan, I do not know. I can feel that edge dulling as I sit in a drawer and wonder have I miss my moment? Was my purpose really that short a meaningless? Is this all that there ever was for me? I will never be used again. I have already lost my edge.
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
How long would you wait for help?
Maybe I am a little bit different then most but Why after a natural disaster would you wait for someone to rescue you rather then rescue your self?
I know that we have had it drilled into our heads that when your lost you need to stay put and wait for someone to find you. But you can only live for three days without water and you can fight off the fatigue of not eating for about 14 days if your not to lean and have plenty of clean water. If you don't have either food or water and you have children with you why would you wait for anyone to come and get you? Are you so dependent on the government teat that you cannot support your pathetic meat sack or those who depend on you for basic life support? I find that sad and depressing because if the current scientific community is correct we may be heading for a short (and by short I mean that in scientific terms) warm up that will change the global weather patterns beyond dramatically and impact our lives greatly. Not to mention all the other disasters that are looming over our society at this present moment. Why not learn to survive? I think that its more then a right, its a responsibility. I think that in the words of Maynard from tool "Learn to swim". Most of you're going to need it. Here is a link to help: IPN
I know that we have had it drilled into our heads that when your lost you need to stay put and wait for someone to find you. But you can only live for three days without water and you can fight off the fatigue of not eating for about 14 days if your not to lean and have plenty of clean water. If you don't have either food or water and you have children with you why would you wait for anyone to come and get you? Are you so dependent on the government teat that you cannot support your pathetic meat sack or those who depend on you for basic life support? I find that sad and depressing because if the current scientific community is correct we may be heading for a short (and by short I mean that in scientific terms) warm up that will change the global weather patterns beyond dramatically and impact our lives greatly. Not to mention all the other disasters that are looming over our society at this present moment. Why not learn to survive? I think that its more then a right, its a responsibility. I think that in the words of Maynard from tool "Learn to swim". Most of you're going to need it. Here is a link to help: IPN
Friday, June 23, 2006
Stop looking for an alternative...
When I see a CGI elephant dancing in the rain I thought "that's an odd marketing approach...". When I realized it was the Gas & Oil conglomeration BP stopped thinking it was odd and started thinking it was funny. You see everyone knows that Global Warming is a hot button issue today and while there is only mountains of data to support the theory there is no Fact to prove it conclusively. I am sorry a computer model does not count as proof. If you worked with computers you would know that they are only as flawless as the people operating them. What is so funny is the subtlety of the word alternative. An alternative is an option and while I do not necessarily subscribe to global warming I do that to believe we will have petrol forever is ignorant. While I again don't want you to mistake my point for some sort of even more tenuous theory subscription to "Peak Oil". I don't subscribe to any theory exclusively. I am just saying to offer an alternative is to give a choice where people are not only highly unlikely to not choose but then those who do are going choose the alternative must bear the weight and responsibility of those who do not want to make the change. I propose that we no longer offer or even search for alternatives. I think we should be looking for replacements for global energy. We should be dumping copious amounts of money into things like nano-carbon filaments for power transmission across a global energy network.
Thursday, June 15, 2006
While we live... Let us live!
What did I want?
I wanted the hurtling moons of Barsoom. I wanted Storisende and Poictesme, and Holmes shaking me awake to tell me, "The games' afoot!" I wanted to float down the Mississippi on a raft and elude a mob in company with the Duke of Bilgewater and the Lost Dauphin. I wanted Prester John and Excalibur held by a moon-white arm out of a silent lake. I wanted to sail with Ulysses and with Tros of Samothrace and eat the lotus in a land that seemed always afternoon. I wanted the feeling of romance and the sense of wonder I had known as a kid. I wanted the world to be what they had promised me it was going to be -- instead of the tawdry, lousy, fouled-up mess it is."
-- Glory Road, Robert Heinlein
Let men be men and allow them to teach their sons; any boy who wants to listen and learn how to be a man let him go and find a teacher who can teach and show him the path to truly being masculine.
Let boys makes mistakes and show them how to take responsibility for it.
Let men make decisions and when they are Wong don't tear them down for having a flaw or being human.
We are all imperfect and we must accept that.
The truth is in the actions of good men and women not in the words.
Those who teach and violate the sacred bond between teacher and student let them be flogged publicly so that they may endure the shame of their transgression.
Find the balance between being the leader and dictator.
Seek the role "Head of the house" and rather then spineless husband or tyrannical abuser.
Accept your limitations or overcome them but don't lament them and ask for alms.
Understand that the majority rules not the minority that cries the loudest.
I don't know why I wrote that but I guess that men today kind of make me sick and women annoy me much more then they amuse me. I wish I was a perfect as I want everyone to strive to be so that I could say "look at me I am the model please follow my example" but I'm not. That is kind of me looking to be a messiah figure and I am not it. Then I look at the true example and I can see why he said that it was lucky for those who did see him cause it going to be much harder on those who did not. How many millennia have we had to take the truth and follow it and yet we seem destined to fail. I love my wife she is the saint that keeps me striving to be a better person.
I wanted the hurtling moons of Barsoom. I wanted Storisende and Poictesme, and Holmes shaking me awake to tell me, "The games' afoot!" I wanted to float down the Mississippi on a raft and elude a mob in company with the Duke of Bilgewater and the Lost Dauphin. I wanted Prester John and Excalibur held by a moon-white arm out of a silent lake. I wanted to sail with Ulysses and with Tros of Samothrace and eat the lotus in a land that seemed always afternoon. I wanted the feeling of romance and the sense of wonder I had known as a kid. I wanted the world to be what they had promised me it was going to be -- instead of the tawdry, lousy, fouled-up mess it is."
-- Glory Road, Robert Heinlein
Let men be men and allow them to teach their sons; any boy who wants to listen and learn how to be a man let him go and find a teacher who can teach and show him the path to truly being masculine.
Let boys makes mistakes and show them how to take responsibility for it.
Let men make decisions and when they are Wong don't tear them down for having a flaw or being human.
We are all imperfect and we must accept that.
The truth is in the actions of good men and women not in the words.
Those who teach and violate the sacred bond between teacher and student let them be flogged publicly so that they may endure the shame of their transgression.
Find the balance between being the leader and dictator.
Seek the role "Head of the house" and rather then spineless husband or tyrannical abuser.
Accept your limitations or overcome them but don't lament them and ask for alms.
Understand that the majority rules not the minority that cries the loudest.
I don't know why I wrote that but I guess that men today kind of make me sick and women annoy me much more then they amuse me. I wish I was a perfect as I want everyone to strive to be so that I could say "look at me I am the model please follow my example" but I'm not. That is kind of me looking to be a messiah figure and I am not it. Then I look at the true example and I can see why he said that it was lucky for those who did see him cause it going to be much harder on those who did not. How many millennia have we had to take the truth and follow it and yet we seem destined to fail. I love my wife she is the saint that keeps me striving to be a better person.
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Do you have eyes to see what I can see
does any of this seem to ring a bell for anyone else? Am I the only person who feels like they are being filled with knowledge from somewhere else? Whose else has memories that were never theirs? Fuck me read this and please post and tell me what those forrests look like and what that tree smelled like. I think I am so fucking nuts that I should be locked up.
" The axis of the world was Yggdrasill. That ash soared and its branches fanned over gods and men and giants and dwarfs. It sheltered all creation. One root dug deep into Niflheim and under that root the spring Hvergelmir seethed and growled like water in a cauldron. Down there the dragon Nidhogg ripped apart corpses. Between mouthfuls, he sent the squirrel Ratatosk whisking up the trunk from deepest earth to heaven; it carried insults to the eagle who sat on the topmost bough, with a hawk perched on its brow. And Nidhogg was not content with corpses; he and his vile accomplices gnawed at the root of Yggdrasill itself, trying to loosen what was firm and put an end to the eternal. Other creatures, too, attacked and preyed off the living tree - four stags nibbled at the new leaves, and goats tugged and tore off the tender shoots. Parts of the huge trunk were peeling, parts were rotten. Yggdrasill whispered and Yggdrasill groaned.A second root curled into Asgard. Under that root flowed the well of Urd, the spring of destiny, where the gods gathered each day and held a court of justice. The three Norns lived near by, Fate and Being and Necessity. They shaped the life of each man from his first day to his last. And every day they sprinkled water on the branches of Yggdrasill and nourished the suffering tree.The third root burrowed into that part of Jotunheim held by the frost giants. Under that root bubbled the spring guarded by wise Mimir, and the water in that well gave insight to those who tasted it. The god Heimdall left his shrieking horn there until the day when he would need it to summon every living creature to Ragnarok. And Odin had given one eye for a single draught from it. He won immense knowledge there and with it the thirst for yet greater wisdom. So the Terrible One approached Yggdrasill alone.
Odin said:
'I hung from that windswept tree, hung there for nine long nights; I was pierced with a spear; I was an offering to Odin, myself to myself.
‘No one has ever known or will ever know the roots of that ancient tree.
‘No one came to comfort me with bread, no one revived me with a drink from a horn. I peered at the worlds below; I seized the runes, shrieking I seized them; then I fell back.
‘From Bolthor's famous son, Besla's father, I learned nine powerful songs. I was able to drain the precious mead from the cauldron of Odrorir.
‘Then I began to thrive, my wisdom grew; I prospered and was fruitful. One word gained me many words; one deed gained me many deeds.
‘The charms I know are not known by the wives of kings or by any man. The first is called Help because it can comfort grief and lessen pain and cure sickness.
‘I know a second: any man who hopes to become a healer needs to know it.
‘I know a third: if I should sorely need help to hold back my enemy, I can blunt my opponent's blade and soften his staff so he cannot wound me.
‘I know a fourth: if anyone should bind me hand and foot, this charm is so great that the locks spring apart, releasing my limbs; I can walk free.
‘I know a fifth: if I should see a well aimed arrow speeding to its mark, I can catch it however fast it flies; I have only to fix it with my eye.
‘I know a sixth: if anyone thinks to finish me by sending a sapling's roots engraved with runes, that hero - full of spleen - will only destroy himself.
‘I know a seventh: if I should see the hall roof burst into flames over the heads of my chosen comrades, I can quench the blaze however fierce it may be; I know the charm.
‘I know an eighth; all men would be well advised to learn it: if hatred takes root in men's minds, I can uproot it.
‘I know an ninth: if I should need to save my ship in a storm, I can calm the wind that whips off wavecrests and put the sea to sleep.
‘I know a tenth; if ever I see witches flying on rafters, I can sing so that they go into a whirl and cannot change back into their day shapes or find their way to their own front doors.
‘I know an eleventh: if I have to lead loyal, long-loved friends into a fight, I can sing behind my shield and they will go from strength to strength;
-unscathed to the battle,
-unscathed after the battle;
-unscathed they return home.
‘I know a twelfth: if I see a hanged man swinging from a tree, with his heels above my head, I can cut and colour the runes so that he will come down and talk to me.
‘I know a thirteenth: if I sprinkle water over a child, he will never fall in a thick of battle, nor falter and sink in the sword-play.
‘I know a fourteenth: if I so desire, I can tell men the names of the gods and elves one by one - few fools can do that!
‘I know a fifteenth: the dwarf Thjodrorir sang it in front of Delling's doors, a charm of power for the gods, glory for the elves, wisdom for Odin.
‘I know a sixteenth: if I long for love-play, I can turn the mind and win the heart of a white-armed woman.
‘I know a seventeenth: such a charm that a young girl will be loath to forsake me.
‘I know an eighteenth: I will never tell it to a girl or married woman unless I am lying in her arms or she is my own sister! What you and you alone know is always the most potent. And that is the last of the charms.
'These were the words of Odin before there were men. These were his words, after his death, when he rose again."
- The Norse Myths, Introduced and retold by Kevin Crossley-Hollandthe Pantheon Fairy Tale and Folklore Library
" The axis of the world was Yggdrasill. That ash soared and its branches fanned over gods and men and giants and dwarfs. It sheltered all creation. One root dug deep into Niflheim and under that root the spring Hvergelmir seethed and growled like water in a cauldron. Down there the dragon Nidhogg ripped apart corpses. Between mouthfuls, he sent the squirrel Ratatosk whisking up the trunk from deepest earth to heaven; it carried insults to the eagle who sat on the topmost bough, with a hawk perched on its brow. And Nidhogg was not content with corpses; he and his vile accomplices gnawed at the root of Yggdrasill itself, trying to loosen what was firm and put an end to the eternal. Other creatures, too, attacked and preyed off the living tree - four stags nibbled at the new leaves, and goats tugged and tore off the tender shoots. Parts of the huge trunk were peeling, parts were rotten. Yggdrasill whispered and Yggdrasill groaned.A second root curled into Asgard. Under that root flowed the well of Urd, the spring of destiny, where the gods gathered each day and held a court of justice. The three Norns lived near by, Fate and Being and Necessity. They shaped the life of each man from his first day to his last. And every day they sprinkled water on the branches of Yggdrasill and nourished the suffering tree.The third root burrowed into that part of Jotunheim held by the frost giants. Under that root bubbled the spring guarded by wise Mimir, and the water in that well gave insight to those who tasted it. The god Heimdall left his shrieking horn there until the day when he would need it to summon every living creature to Ragnarok. And Odin had given one eye for a single draught from it. He won immense knowledge there and with it the thirst for yet greater wisdom. So the Terrible One approached Yggdrasill alone.
Odin said:
'I hung from that windswept tree, hung there for nine long nights; I was pierced with a spear; I was an offering to Odin, myself to myself.
‘No one has ever known or will ever know the roots of that ancient tree.
‘No one came to comfort me with bread, no one revived me with a drink from a horn. I peered at the worlds below; I seized the runes, shrieking I seized them; then I fell back.
‘From Bolthor's famous son, Besla's father, I learned nine powerful songs. I was able to drain the precious mead from the cauldron of Odrorir.
‘Then I began to thrive, my wisdom grew; I prospered and was fruitful. One word gained me many words; one deed gained me many deeds.
‘The charms I know are not known by the wives of kings or by any man. The first is called Help because it can comfort grief and lessen pain and cure sickness.
‘I know a second: any man who hopes to become a healer needs to know it.
‘I know a third: if I should sorely need help to hold back my enemy, I can blunt my opponent's blade and soften his staff so he cannot wound me.
‘I know a fourth: if anyone should bind me hand and foot, this charm is so great that the locks spring apart, releasing my limbs; I can walk free.
‘I know a fifth: if I should see a well aimed arrow speeding to its mark, I can catch it however fast it flies; I have only to fix it with my eye.
‘I know a sixth: if anyone thinks to finish me by sending a sapling's roots engraved with runes, that hero - full of spleen - will only destroy himself.
‘I know a seventh: if I should see the hall roof burst into flames over the heads of my chosen comrades, I can quench the blaze however fierce it may be; I know the charm.
‘I know an eighth; all men would be well advised to learn it: if hatred takes root in men's minds, I can uproot it.
‘I know an ninth: if I should need to save my ship in a storm, I can calm the wind that whips off wavecrests and put the sea to sleep.
‘I know a tenth; if ever I see witches flying on rafters, I can sing so that they go into a whirl and cannot change back into their day shapes or find their way to their own front doors.
‘I know an eleventh: if I have to lead loyal, long-loved friends into a fight, I can sing behind my shield and they will go from strength to strength;
-unscathed to the battle,
-unscathed after the battle;
-unscathed they return home.
‘I know a twelfth: if I see a hanged man swinging from a tree, with his heels above my head, I can cut and colour the runes so that he will come down and talk to me.
‘I know a thirteenth: if I sprinkle water over a child, he will never fall in a thick of battle, nor falter and sink in the sword-play.
‘I know a fourteenth: if I so desire, I can tell men the names of the gods and elves one by one - few fools can do that!
‘I know a fifteenth: the dwarf Thjodrorir sang it in front of Delling's doors, a charm of power for the gods, glory for the elves, wisdom for Odin.
‘I know a sixteenth: if I long for love-play, I can turn the mind and win the heart of a white-armed woman.
‘I know a seventeenth: such a charm that a young girl will be loath to forsake me.
‘I know an eighteenth: I will never tell it to a girl or married woman unless I am lying in her arms or she is my own sister! What you and you alone know is always the most potent. And that is the last of the charms.
'These were the words of Odin before there were men. These were his words, after his death, when he rose again."
- The Norse Myths, Introduced and retold by Kevin Crossley-Hollandthe Pantheon Fairy Tale and Folklore Library
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
Hear No Evil, See No Evil, Speak No Evil
I have been wanting to write this for some time but I just never got around to it. I guess this is the best time to write it cause I am at work and I am getting grossly over paid to do this. I read somewhere:
"Hear no evil, see no evil, Then you have no reason to suspect any."
And that almost made me choke on the truth of the statement. If you have never seen it done or done it yourself, you will not know, nor will you recognize the circumstances in which that particular thing would be done or even considered. If you have never sat in a room with a bunch of generals and listened to their conversation about sending a team of 8 men to their (what seemed at the time) deaths. Mind you its no ordinary team, it was a team of US Navy SeALs. Remember it cost in excess of one million dollars to train one navy seal to full operator status and they send 8 of them to die to accomplish an objective. Before that day I could conceive of the idea but I never actually heard it rationalized. After that day I never looked at another officer the same way again. Those SeALs did what they had to do and to everyone's surprise they all lived and were very annoyed at the lack usable intel they were given. If you have never beaten someone into hospitalizing you would never know that one person could "loose it" like that and not care. If you have never had your heart broken you just don't know what it feels like until you do and you cannot counsel someone who has until you have been in that situation.
The reason I write this is because I always talk to my wife about certain things that she just mostly finds unthinkable or totally "crazy, how? Or why would someone do that?" and I just thought that everyone was like me. That is to say a former evil terrible manipulating puppy killing candy from a baby maiden stealer thirty pieces of silver kind of guy like me. I guess not, then again I also guess that's why I am so fucking paranoid about people. The sad thing about those days of my life is that I learned so much and was my own worst enemy. I would fear karma if I did not think that Karma sat on my shoulder and stabbed me in the heart and the back ten times worse then I did to others. I still wonder How I survived my self. You may not know that someone would do it but trust me if it can be done there is someone out there that is planning on doing it. I may not know everything that can be done but I sure as hell know that there is no limit to the depths that people will sink to accomplish their pointless goals.
I think what I am trying to say is this. Just because you could not commit the crime or hurt the completely innocent does not mean that I (or someone else of like demenor, nature) havent, couldent, or wouldent for no reason other then the idea crossed my (our) decayed mind.
"Hear no evil, see no evil, Then you have no reason to suspect any."
And that almost made me choke on the truth of the statement. If you have never seen it done or done it yourself, you will not know, nor will you recognize the circumstances in which that particular thing would be done or even considered. If you have never sat in a room with a bunch of generals and listened to their conversation about sending a team of 8 men to their (what seemed at the time) deaths. Mind you its no ordinary team, it was a team of US Navy SeALs. Remember it cost in excess of one million dollars to train one navy seal to full operator status and they send 8 of them to die to accomplish an objective. Before that day I could conceive of the idea but I never actually heard it rationalized. After that day I never looked at another officer the same way again. Those SeALs did what they had to do and to everyone's surprise they all lived and were very annoyed at the lack usable intel they were given. If you have never beaten someone into hospitalizing you would never know that one person could "loose it" like that and not care. If you have never had your heart broken you just don't know what it feels like until you do and you cannot counsel someone who has until you have been in that situation.
The reason I write this is because I always talk to my wife about certain things that she just mostly finds unthinkable or totally "crazy, how? Or why would someone do that?" and I just thought that everyone was like me. That is to say a former evil terrible manipulating puppy killing candy from a baby maiden stealer thirty pieces of silver kind of guy like me. I guess not, then again I also guess that's why I am so fucking paranoid about people. The sad thing about those days of my life is that I learned so much and was my own worst enemy. I would fear karma if I did not think that Karma sat on my shoulder and stabbed me in the heart and the back ten times worse then I did to others. I still wonder How I survived my self. You may not know that someone would do it but trust me if it can be done there is someone out there that is planning on doing it. I may not know everything that can be done but I sure as hell know that there is no limit to the depths that people will sink to accomplish their pointless goals.
I think what I am trying to say is this. Just because you could not commit the crime or hurt the completely innocent does not mean that I (or someone else of like demenor, nature) havent, couldent, or wouldent for no reason other then the idea crossed my (our) decayed mind.
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Aenema
What do Maynard Keenan and I have in common? I don't think it matters to you but I do think that you ask your self the same question and said "Nothing" your more then likely the kind of person this song was written about. Why could someone wish the destruction of their whole civilization and want to die with it and not be suicidal? If you don't know the answer then you are asleep at the edge of a giant storm. Be apart of the clean up crew not solution or the problem and know that there is no room for you in the end either. Stop polishing the brass on the titanic its all going down some people are just closer to the epicenter.
Tool - Aenema
Some say the end is near
Some say we'll see Armageddon soon
I certainly hope we will
I sure could use a vacation from this
Bullshit three ring circus sideshow of Freaks
Here in this hopeless fucking hole we call LA
The only way to fix it is to flush it all away
Any fucking time, Any fucking day
Learn to swim, See you down in Arizona bay
Fret for your figure and
Fret for your latte and
Fret for your lawsuit and
Fret for your hairpiece and
Fret for your prozac and
Fret for your pilot and
Fret for your contract and
Fret for your car
It's a Bullshit three ring circus sideshow of Freaks
Here in this hopeless fucking hole we call LA
The only way to fix it is to flush it all away
Any fucking time, Any fucking day
Learn to swim, See you down in Arizona bay
Some say a comet will fall from the sky
Followed by meteor showers and tidal waves
Followed by faultlines that cannot sit still
Followed by millions of dumbfounded dipshits
Some say the end is near
Some say we'll see Armageddon soon
I certainly hope we will cuz I sure could use a vacation from this
Stupid shit, Silly shit, Stupid shit
One great big festering neon distraction
I've a suggestion to keep you all occupied
Learn to swim
Mom's gonna fix it all soon
Mom's comin' round to put it back the way it ought to be
Learn to swim
Fuck L Ron Hubbard and
Fuck all his clones
Fuck all those gun-toting
Hip gangster wannabes
Learn to swim
Fuck retro anything
Fuck your tattoos
Fuck all you junkies and
Fuck your short memory
Learn to swim
Fuck smiley glad-hands
With hidden agendas
Fuck these dysfunctional
Insecure actresses
Learn to swim
Cuz I'm praying for rain And
I'm praying for tidal waves
I wanna see the ground give way
I wanna watch it all go down
Mom please flush it all away
I wanna watch it go right in and down
I wanna watch it go right in
Watch you flush it all away
Time to bring it down again
Don't just call me pessimist
Try and read between the lines
I can't imagine why you wouldn't
Welcome any change, my friend
I wanna see it all come down
Suck it down
Flush it down
Tool - Aenema
Some say the end is near
Some say we'll see Armageddon soon
I certainly hope we will
I sure could use a vacation from this
Bullshit three ring circus sideshow of Freaks
Here in this hopeless fucking hole we call LA
The only way to fix it is to flush it all away
Any fucking time, Any fucking day
Learn to swim, See you down in Arizona bay
Fret for your figure and
Fret for your latte and
Fret for your lawsuit and
Fret for your hairpiece and
Fret for your prozac and
Fret for your pilot and
Fret for your contract and
Fret for your car
It's a Bullshit three ring circus sideshow of Freaks
Here in this hopeless fucking hole we call LA
The only way to fix it is to flush it all away
Any fucking time, Any fucking day
Learn to swim, See you down in Arizona bay
Some say a comet will fall from the sky
Followed by meteor showers and tidal waves
Followed by faultlines that cannot sit still
Followed by millions of dumbfounded dipshits
Some say the end is near
Some say we'll see Armageddon soon
I certainly hope we will cuz I sure could use a vacation from this
Stupid shit, Silly shit, Stupid shit
One great big festering neon distraction
I've a suggestion to keep you all occupied
Learn to swim
Mom's gonna fix it all soon
Mom's comin' round to put it back the way it ought to be
Learn to swim
Fuck L Ron Hubbard and
Fuck all his clones
Fuck all those gun-toting
Hip gangster wannabes
Learn to swim
Fuck retro anything
Fuck your tattoos
Fuck all you junkies and
Fuck your short memory
Learn to swim
Fuck smiley glad-hands
With hidden agendas
Fuck these dysfunctional
Insecure actresses
Learn to swim
Cuz I'm praying for rain And
I'm praying for tidal waves
I wanna see the ground give way
I wanna watch it all go down
Mom please flush it all away
I wanna watch it go right in and down
I wanna watch it go right in
Watch you flush it all away
Time to bring it down again
Don't just call me pessimist
Try and read between the lines
I can't imagine why you wouldn't
Welcome any change, my friend
I wanna see it all come down
Suck it down
Flush it down
Sunday, March 19, 2006
The guilty always die in fear...
I know that the guilty die in fear. I have been guilty of great things and felt great fear if anyone found out. The light of the truth releases you from that fear. If you are in prison now and your reading this I want you to know that only you know if your guilty or not and only you know your fear. When you die you will die knowing that you did it or that you did not and you have the end to look forward too. Death or freedom is the eventual end of a wrongful conviction and while you never know if you will get out of prision if you are there wrongfully you can rest assured that you will die.
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
Find your place...
I hate when people don't understand where they belong. Is it that hard to look at book and know that there are words inside or there is a place where words should be written? Look at your life and who you are. If you find that you have the same habits that you did when you were five then you might want to try improving yourself.
If your a girl and you have daddy issues and you have not at least tried to either get therapy or understand how those issues affect you on a day to day and yearly basis your wasting everyone's time and more importantly your own time. The only thing we all have in common is that we will all die. One day your parents will die no matter how angry you are at them and they likely will not ask your permission to do so.
Boys this statement goes for you just as well. If you have even a vague idea of what an edipose complex is you might want to really look into it and see how your version of it affects your life. I am glad your momma made you milk and cookies every damn night till you were 18 but you not her little boy anymore no matter what she tries to make you believe. She will die and you cannot stop it.
Learn to communicate well or jump off the golden gate bridge cause all you doing is perpetuating your own flaws on your children.
Oh you say you don't want to have children? Ever looked inside your self to understand why that is? If your excuse is that you don't want to raise your children in a world that seems like its all going down the shitter then step off the curb in front of a city bus cause your not worth your weights in grass clippings. If you cannot have children by some genetic or physical misfortune then I am sorry.
There is always adoption and foster care for children provided your not one of the many shitbag people who use foster children as a way to get money. If you don't have children you should be improving your self on every level for the simple reason that you have only one life. If you don't want to live it then voluntarily expire and donate your organs to someone with children.
For those of you who have children listen up you fucks. I reserve this word special for you cause you will only be offended if it applies. You have better do everything you can to raise intelligent children with a sound moral and ethical base or else you are contributing to the problem not the solution. It only takes one bad apple to spoil the whole bunch and you better hope yours is not that bad apple cause you will be held to account for all their actions. If you devote all your time to buttering up your children then you are wasting a good portion of that time. When your taught something you cannot ever learn it unless you are given the time to put it into practice. Your teaching your child how to live they need to practice living to get what your saying. Let them make mistakes and reprimand them for them with love not anger. Make them pay a heavy toll for transgressions that are intentional. Remember to take time to improve you while you raise them because again they follow your example and if you do not lead a good life neither will they. Life is all about practice and you cannot practice yours if your always intruding in on theirs.
If your a girl and you have daddy issues and you have not at least tried to either get therapy or understand how those issues affect you on a day to day and yearly basis your wasting everyone's time and more importantly your own time. The only thing we all have in common is that we will all die. One day your parents will die no matter how angry you are at them and they likely will not ask your permission to do so.
Boys this statement goes for you just as well. If you have even a vague idea of what an edipose complex is you might want to really look into it and see how your version of it affects your life. I am glad your momma made you milk and cookies every damn night till you were 18 but you not her little boy anymore no matter what she tries to make you believe. She will die and you cannot stop it.
Learn to communicate well or jump off the golden gate bridge cause all you doing is perpetuating your own flaws on your children.
Oh you say you don't want to have children? Ever looked inside your self to understand why that is? If your excuse is that you don't want to raise your children in a world that seems like its all going down the shitter then step off the curb in front of a city bus cause your not worth your weights in grass clippings. If you cannot have children by some genetic or physical misfortune then I am sorry.
There is always adoption and foster care for children provided your not one of the many shitbag people who use foster children as a way to get money. If you don't have children you should be improving your self on every level for the simple reason that you have only one life. If you don't want to live it then voluntarily expire and donate your organs to someone with children.
For those of you who have children listen up you fucks. I reserve this word special for you cause you will only be offended if it applies. You have better do everything you can to raise intelligent children with a sound moral and ethical base or else you are contributing to the problem not the solution. It only takes one bad apple to spoil the whole bunch and you better hope yours is not that bad apple cause you will be held to account for all their actions. If you devote all your time to buttering up your children then you are wasting a good portion of that time. When your taught something you cannot ever learn it unless you are given the time to put it into practice. Your teaching your child how to live they need to practice living to get what your saying. Let them make mistakes and reprimand them for them with love not anger. Make them pay a heavy toll for transgressions that are intentional. Remember to take time to improve you while you raise them because again they follow your example and if you do not lead a good life neither will they. Life is all about practice and you cannot practice yours if your always intruding in on theirs.
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
0104
I am so alone in a crowded room...I don't belong here...I am meant for great things...I can be perfect if I try...I have a deep sickness in my mind that will one day put me in a padded cell...Alone again...Sadder then I have ever been...How long can I keep it together...Does anyone else wonder if they are insane...Do they wish they were so then they could escape reality under the guise of disorder...I can't wait to die...I am not suicidal...Anymore...I just want to go home...I really don't belong here...I miss my wife...I am the weakest man alive...I have never been wrong...I need to cry more...I need another tattoo...All my needs are met...I am not lost...I have never been lost...I am not flesh and blood...Who is inside my head staring out of my eyes...Why don't I recognize me sometimes...What do newborn babies dream about...I think do things while I sleep...I feel I have more in common with animals then people...I don't know how I ever got this smart...I know I am not stupid anymore...I think I used to be retarded in some way...I wish I could finish school...I hate money...I love to work with my hands...I want to build a spaceship...If I don't dream then who will? Somebody please stop me.
1am
I cannot sleep. I feel like I have glass shards stuck in my brain. I am dizzy and I itch all over. I hope I don't have fleas. I think that its funny to see how many people don't fit in because if no one fit in then would we all not be in the same group? I have learned a new trick with people I am around all the time. I think that its either psychological trickery or I can really make suggestions to people within a certain area of me. I would explain further but I have to find a scientific way of testing this. I think I will have people give me a phrase and attach an emotion to this phrase like "Rise about the clouds"..."Happiness" an then I will try to get someone else to think this statement and say they are happy. Yes that is what I will do and then if I can do this I will try to perfect it and then I will bottle snake oil and sell it as a curative tonic to the sick and lame. Yes! I bet this has never been done before! I am so original...I am so creative....
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
The lunatic fringe
I never realized that I grew up on the totally crazy end of christian living. I thought that learning how to cast out demons and binding spirits was normal. I guess not. The more I look at it the more I see now why I feel like such a fucking freak. I think that I could improve on the ideas that I was taught but I am still debating on if moving farther out into the realm of the insane is a good idea. I am learning more and more how far from normal I am and I think it scares me. If I grew up on such a strange diet of latino living and christian voodoo and everyone thought I was weird...makes me feel a little sad.
Monday, January 16, 2006
I still don't know
I can't escape the fact that I exhibit a large percentage of the traits of a sociopath. I am not a psychopath or a serial killer but I do feel that I have what would be considered a moral flexibility that could be very easily exploited or used for bad bad things. I even took a boring online test but I don't think I was honest and I think that it was a wasted of time but I scored a 63% sociopath. I think my major difference from being a total sociopath is that I only hurt others when I need to not for fun. I don't get off on the agony of others and I would only kill if I felt I was threatened. I once read a book called The Gemini Man and I could totally relate to the main character in this book. Want to know how I am on the inside of my head? This is it in a way that I cannot explain; read this book and draw your own conclusion:
I seemingly lack moral empathy, a condition generally described as sociopathic -- which doesn't apply to me because I don't have sociopathic tendencies.
I think that I am a human who is able to act and think without the hindrance of morality, excessive emotionalism and I don't know what that makes me.
I dont know, those who know me could feel free to comment.
I seemingly lack moral empathy, a condition generally described as sociopathic -- which doesn't apply to me because I don't have sociopathic tendencies.
I think that I am a human who is able to act and think without the hindrance of morality, excessive emotionalism and I don't know what that makes me.
I dont know, those who know me could feel free to comment.
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About Me
- Hardwaremonkey
- I am seeking truth and understanding. I am trying to find the thread that connects all things.