Losing My Way

It's the monst wonderful day of the year! Yes, Halloween has come again, people dress up in costumes, and party. It was an old Catholic practice to Christianize pagan holidays, so just as Saturnalia became the 12 days of Christmas, Samhain became Halloween. Costumes were worn to disguise one's self from faeries, and offerings given to wandering shapeshifters called Pukahs(like Harvey in the movie of the same name). These easily morphed into today's traditions. This is the day when the barriers between worlds are breached by the supernatural, according to ancient lore, a point that was sanitized by Ssmhain's chistianization. The people kept the fun parts. I don't have any opportunity to enjoy the day this year, but I usually ignore the occasion. I should've found a costume today, but I had that whim too late to do anything about it. Next year, when I'm rich, I will throw a party, complete with a flaming wheel and some Druids, because modern life needs

No, I don't consider philosophy to be a super power, per se, but I do find it enables an untrained civilian, such as myself, to endure hardships that would set others to bemoan their fate, and to do so with even a touch of humor. Of course, some would think that someone who is funny could not possibly be a philosopher, to which I thoroughly disagree. George Carlin was a philosopher, or at least became one in my eyes, and he was certainly one of the funniest men who ever lived; in fact, teachers of philosophy, so insistent on being serious, have made the study of the subject dry and dull, rather like Plato's Republic. My antipathy towards Plato goes back to high school, when my critique of Greek philosophers get a C- from my teacher, but I deserved better and felt my grade was due to not giving the teacher what he wanted. Were I a teacher, I would give extra credit to a student who disagreed with me, even if I found his reasoning to be faulty, just for having enough guts to q

As I limped down the street, my bad ankle trying to loosen up enough to walk normally, I swore that I would get legal help to make the latest bunch of scammers to pay me what they say they will. I don't think you should get away with it when you say immediate payment to PayPal and no ads, then make people have to withdraw the money themselves only after watching a lot of ads. I think any good attorney could blow their defense out of the water, and since I'm back to being owed thousands of dollars again, it would be worth the time of a good attorney to take these grifters down. We would win, because it's the kind of case where the lawyer would get a third of the payout, and I'm sure the scumbags would fold, since they know their lies won't hold up in court. I still wonder how they get away with it. I tried to interest Senator Klobuchar in this fraud, so she could introduce some law, but she's in the grip of Joe Biden, and all they can think about is tying up

I love you all. Even the people who look down their nose at me as I pass them by and won't say hello, I love them too, the poor misguided fools. Even the politicians who won't do a thing to help me, I love them as well. I embrace love because it is so easy, because, let's face it, hatred is a lot of work. You have to waste valuable calories seething, and waste your thoughts on all the miserable scum who made your life a living hell, when all you need do is wear a vacant smile and think about constructive things. Someone did you wrong? Well, you are forgiven. Go in peace, go far, far away. That was easy, wasn't it? The problems created by them can turn into opportunities for you, so love the rotten bastards even if you have to fight them sooner or later. The trouble with love is that it doesn't boost your energy level during a crisis. During a fight, it would just say let's get our ass kicked and forgive them later as we're licking our wounds. But that

Damnation all around...I'm buying. The world is going mad; that's the good news. Since society is built on an edifice of lies, perhaps there is hope for us all. Wealth is built from things lacking in any discernible value, the economy itself being fictitious from its very beginnings, so whoever comes up with a truly silly idea would essentially be printing their own money. That's great, I think, a much better thing than what the serious minded fools would have us believe. I'm too tired to encapsulate what it all means, but I am quite sick of the humorless scolds who run the Democratic party. Say what you will about right-wing politicians, they are at least are in touch with the common people, which probably explains how they can be so stupid. But the Democrats want to be perfect, and I resist perfection in all of its permutations, for it is unattainable due to all of the unintended consequences inherit in such folly. The War on Drugs began in order for the good folks

I picked myself up off the floor the next day, feeling cheap and disgusted, but as the philosopher king, I did not indulge any sentimentality. I took off my dress, and spent a few minutes in my underwear looking out the window. I was certain that Biden, the unpricipled hack that he was, had sent the images of the previous night, far and wide across the internet, and I was certain that I made some of my admirers upset, as I had never directly stated what my sexuality was, since I believed that sexuality was of no importance when it came to the works of the mind. Biden, of course, was betting that the common people I had some rapport with would be so disgusted by my enjoyment of having sex with those two fine men that I would no longer be welcome in the world of the American people. I prepared myself for that possibility, and as I thought of the ramifications of my actions, I couldn't help buy squeeze my nipples, then run my hands down my stomach and touched my stiffening penis. Wi

With a title like that, you can be sure there will be no talk of cock sucking in today's blog entry. I would never stoop so low as to mention the stiff penis my tongue gently licks as I bring my mouth closer and closer... There'll be none of that today. All I ever do is talk about it anyway, so why engage in such idle chatter when the world needs to uplift its spiritual condition? The main problem with the world is its inability to transcend the many troubles of everyday life, which crass politicians take full advantage of, to the detriment of our public well-being. When any politician mentions God, I am nauseous, because it is so obviously a ploy that only a sucker could fall for. Better to have a cock in your mouth than the insincere religious prattle of a politician in your brain. My desires may offend the majority, but it could never match the offensiveness of a politician claiming to be a spiritual paragon of virtue to get some religious group to fall in line on whatev

The aging warrior sat on his noble steed, blood dripping from his sword. He smiled as he viewed the carnage that he his fellows had inflicted on this day, and thought, "Of all the ages a man could live, surely this is the best." It was his last great battle, and his last years were spent in boring peace, and when his consciousness returned to this Earth, he found a world that did not please him much at all. Trapped inside a small, timid man, alongside a decadent nymphomaniac, he sulked, coming into the physical world only when his host was in trouble that only leadership could rescue the little man from, and an occasional guitar solo. Writing of his existence brings him to life, and he sees my rags and feels my hunger, and he wants to take over, tearing me into pieces to save me. I know all he says to be right, and he hates me for letting life come to this. "You could have been man enough to walk to Texas, but you'd rather shiver here with the fools," is a c

If there's one thing I can't stand it's broken promises. Yet here I am, having promised not to sulk over my current melancholy, about to do it again, unable to save my honor through sublimation, and thinking of suicide quite seriously. So should I just stop writing here until my mind is in a better place, or press onwards towards what is sure to be an ignomious end? Away we go. I got some sleep this morning, but I need much more, and my cousin Vanessa kept hounding me to wake up, while her girlfriend threw away my newspapers. A small thing, to be sure, but it's the small things that seem to trigger these descents I dread. After all, there are principles involved here, about family caring about each other, but whereas I am willing to give her money when I have less than $20, she can't even be bothered to hold onto some newspapers that she knows I want, then gets upset that I am upset, because it's not the first time I have complained. Again, I have myself to bl

The Earth continues to be raped for fuel, yet those who want it to end want to rely on unreliable sources of energy, wind and solar power. Yet Nikolai Tesla had discovered a source of energy over 100 years ago without the wastefulness of hydrocarbons, nor the capriciousness of wind and solar. He had found that energy in the electromagnetic field of Earth, a limitless source of power that could be tapped without pollution and would not favor the rich over the poor. That this technology has not been exploited lies in the fact that this energy is free, and many who derive their fortunes from the despoiling of the Earth had powerful allies who stopped this from being developed. Those who followed in Tesla's tracks found themselves attacked and their work destroyed, with the result that no one worked on this energy source's development, to the detriment of the masses for the enrichment of the mighty. It is what you hear about from Art Bell, and his successor George Noori, but not

One of those days...buy a lighter, use it 3 times and drop it on the ground and it gets ran over. That is what we call a blow to my self esteem. I shouldn't have bought it, but then again

I saw a baby on the bus today. It made me think of the best time I ever had, playing with my feet and making sounds devoid of any context. Those were the days. Of course, lacking control of my wastes was a big problem, but I had a mother who loved me so much she gladly changed my diaper. Yea, good times. No pressure being a baby: just do whatever you want and cry bloody murder you get hungry. I tried expressing that to those nearby on the bus, but I was ignored. When you're a baby, you hardly ever are ignored, and if you are, you have your feet to play with. Utterly fascinating.

"Buon Giorno," the man in the white coat said as I entered the room. He smiled as he said that, then the man gently grabbed my arm and led me down a long hall. He kept speaking as we walked; I couldn't understand a thing he said, but his words sounded like music to me. We stopped when we got to room 74A. I entered the room alone, wishing he was still with me, then I went to a couch and laid down. I fell asleep, and when I awoke a different man was sitting on a chair next to me. He started speaking that same delightful music the young man had, and I reveled in the sound, unaware that it was any language at all. The man noticed this, and he switched to English. "Guido thought you spoke Italian," the man said. I smiled. "I only listen." "I must say that you listen like a native," he said, and I laughed. "It is good that humor has not left you. That means there is hope." "That's nice." "So what brings you

It had been a fine summer. All day long he would frolic, playing his fiddle as all the ants toiled, cursing his joy. Their bitterness didn't affect him in the least, aside from making him laugh, and he even got a song out of it. It was so catchy that even some of the ants would sing along. Then one day, as the summer nights began to get nippy, the most humorless of all the ants came up to him and started to sing. "Off on your way/ merrily you go,/ until that grim day you are buried in snow," she sang, and it was so catchy that the grasshopper immediately picked up the tune. They played it fast and laughed, then the ants sang as slowly as she could and his fiddle let loose with a mournful wail, and he shed a tear. Soon, the time came that all grasshoppers dread: the end of summer. The vegetation he had feasted on began to wither and die, and the only song he played was the ants little tune, slower and slower as the air trned colder. He knew that soon the day would

Needless to say, I didn't handle losing my phone well. Not that I handle anything well lately. I can still function, but thoughts of death are oppressing me, and the total lack of love, let alone respect, is a constant invitation to suicide. But I won't kill myself just because I am penniless and homeless; I can't think I am suffering this much for nothing. There has to be an unknown reason for me to still breathe, and I refuse to surrender. Of course, that belief could be a delusion, but maybe a delusion isn't always a bad thing. From madness, joy/ gives me the power to destroy/ all that pretends to be holy/ but is just a greater sin. From sadness, love/ there can never be enough/ I can't pretend to be wise⁰ I'll just fool myself again

In this day and age, is there anything sadder than someone who lost his phone? In the old days, when someone lost a phone it meant their house burned down, taking the phone with it. Now the phone is with you constatly, an extension of one's being, and to lose the phone is to lose one's self. I have to rebuild my contact list, most numbers forgotten, and notes are gone too. There's also the worry about who found the phone. They could have done all sorts of mischief, and discovered my inner self. All sad possibilities, but I must've been lucky, for it seems all is fine, at least as far as my blog goes. No interjections, snide comments or dirty tricks, at least as far as I've seen so far. However, all my apps that won me money are gone. I had over $100,000 in PayPal and Amazon. If I had been paid when they said, I would be in good shape but instead I am fucked as fucked can be.

Damnation Alley was a great science fiction novel written by Roger Zelazny. It was the story of an outlaw named Hell Tanner, who was coerced into taking a vaccine to the East Coast, but first he had to cross a post-apocalyptic wasteland known as Damnation Alley. It was also the name of the movie adaptation featuring Jan-Michael Vincent and George Peppard. That Peppard was in it was the first sign that the movie would suck. Though I find Peppard to be a fine actor, his character was not in the book, and instead of an outlaw on a solo trip through a living hell, it was about a military unit on the mission. The second sign of how bad the movie would be, Tanner's first name was changed from Hell to Jake. Readers of the book were confronted by a wholesale change in action and emphasis. What should've would've could've been a movie as good as Escape From New York instead became one of the biggest pieces of crap ever produced. Why someone would turn a great book into a rot

I have stated before my opposition to anyone thinking that only a college can grant a human the status of a philosopher. It lies in a state of mind, not in one's mind stuffed with a bunch of stuff written over the ages, however valid those writings are today. My dictum is simple: the more that is said the less it means. If people are to be truly wise then they should say as little as possible. When I write my book of philosophy, it will be short, no more than 150 pages. The greatest of all philosophy, The Tao Te Ching, consisted of 64 short poems, and allegedly was only written because when Lao Tze, the wisest man in China, wanted to leave the country, a border guard made Master Lao write down all he knew before he would be allowed to go. I don't claim to have such wisdom myself, but I know that the book was a tremendous influence on my thinking, and it has helped me in my life to deal with various dilemma that I have faced.

Reading today's news about how Biden has gotten greedy is very sad. The man gets a win but he wants to throw it away because he doesn't get everything he wants. I don't have a penny in my pocket but he thinks a trillion dollars isn't enough. Oh yeah, he thinks if he has $3.5 trillion more then he can help everyone, but it's all a scam perpetrated on the American people, and he doesn't even have enough people on his side to ram it through. If he really cared like he pretends to, he would get the infrastructure bill passed and signed, and get on with repairing all the physical damage this country has to fix, but instead he listens to the more radical elements of hs party, because he's not a real leader, he's a foolish old man who wants to think he's hip. Attention Mr. President: you weren't even hip back in the 70s, and have never been more than someone who crests on whatever wave he comes across, thinking he can survive whatever trouble comes hi

I should write this in Italian, but aside from some entrees I don't know the language well enough to do anything but order lasagna, which I consider the greatest thing a human being could possibly eat. With or without meat, it is fantastic when made with care and love, and without skimping on the layers. Life can be like lasagna: when made well, it's the most wonderful thing imaginable; when just slapped together without enough layers, it's still better than the alternative, but ingested with the feeling that something is missing. Don't let life be like bad lasagna: always demand more. It's been too long since I've had lasagna, even bad lasagna, which can lead to an emptiness that threatens the mind. Many days I have an empty feeling, so pervasive that I want it to end, and I wonder if I should get off the streets and have myself committed to a place for the mentally ill. I've pondered that question for 30 years to be honest, and since I manage to hold m