Losing My Way

As television expands to more and more channels, it is producing more crap. In the old days, there was a certain amount of crap, due to the fact that a lot of people enjoy crap, but since there was only so much time to fill, only the best of the crap could be produced. Nowadays, though, shows that would have been shot down after the pilot episode get put on, and the critics actually give them praise, because, obviously, the critics have been bought and paid for. The vehement critics of the '60s and '70s do not have any counterparts today, even in national publications, so they praise stupid programs: dramas with holes in their plots large enough to build a golf course in; comedies that are not even funny enough to be considered droll, and would make 'Leave It To Beaver' seem like the Marx Brothers in comparison. Yet, I see it as an opportunity: the expansion of the market shows no sign of abating, so I am sure I should be able to find someone willing to put my ideas o

I have not had a sexual thought for many weeks now. I am in love with a couple of women, after so many years of wanting men, but in my circumstances I know better than to expect anything to come of those feelings. So many times I have confused a woman's natural friendliness with something deeper, only to be disappointed, or worse. Perhaps it is a biological urge: I feel I must reproduce; that something in my genetic material must be preserved for the good of the Human Race, since I know I haven't taken full advantage of what goodness I have been given. First I need money, then I can be polygamous, because I think if a man can have more than one woman, then he should. After all, a man can spread his seed far and wide, whereas once a woman is impregnated, then it doesn't matter how often she has sex; her role has been fulfilled. I know this is old-fashioned thinking, but there's a reson why it's best to be old-fashioned: it's the way it's been for thousands

Everybody wants to profit from phony apps. PCH makes me watch ads for phony apps that I know will never pay off. Very sad.

Some people, especially uptight fools, claim that rock & roll is the Devil's music, but I can tell you, with no uncertainty on my part, that the Devil hates rock & roll. That's why he tries to destroy it by purchasing the souls of lame performers and getting them recording contracts, and saturating our fragile culture with the most insipid music possible. There are too many examples to list in one blog entry: to list them all would take a coffee table book. First of all, the Devil hates freedom, and isn't that what rock & roll is really all about? But the Devil is sly, and he knows how stupid most people are. Often, the difference between what is ordinary and what is magical can be subtle; after all, there's a reason Beethoven is still loved today whereas most of his contemporaries are not worth listening to. Truly great music is timeless, and most music should be treated like dead fish; toss it in the trash. The other day, I went out for pizza, and on the

Can world domination be fun and profitable? I certainly hope so.

It was time to kill./ Who and where and how he did not know/ and did not care why/ but he knew when. NOW!// He walked down the street/ and saw a face in a store window;/ his sworn enemy, come to mock him./ "You won't escape me this time./ You won't escape!" he screamed,/ then he attacked.// When next they met in the astral plane,/ his sworn enemy asked/ "Wkat just happened?"/ "I don't remember," he replied,/ "but I'm keeping an eye on you.

The horror makes me laugh out loud./ The agony gets me higher than cocaine/ and I never come down/ I never come down.// What a wonderful world in which we dwell/ Misery enough for everyone!/ I pity those who do not suffer/ I want to make them hurt/ so they can really live/ so they know what it's like to live.// Each step I take is happiness/ my aching bones sing Hosanna/ Thank you Lord for the misery/ I'm so glad you care about me.

I will not be negative today. Let the pain come, in wave after wave, like the sea crashing down on the shore of my mind. There is beauty there. One day, one shall come who will admire how I endure the sorrow with a smile on my face and a song in my heart, and that will form the basis of eteral love. I must wait, of course, but love is on its way, I know. Faith is one thing I have an abundance of; surely it helps me survive all that I lack.

Empty calories taste good I say. Nutrition is for wimps.

Thousands of stars weave their way through the night sky. In the land of my birth, many of these stars could not be seen by the naked eye; instead, there was the constant glare of street lights and flashing neon signs. Nature was dying, and a new ecosystem was evolving that the killer apes adapted to quickly, for adaptation was their major talent. We could get used to just about anything, even that which killed everything else. Only animals as ruthless as us could make it in our new, improved nature, save for the occasional rabbit come to feast on flower beds. "Move along slowly now. God is sleeping," I say to myself. "We are His dream." "More like a nightmare you mean," myself responds, but I shrug off the comment. "A nightmare is a dream as well." "That's why the world is a living hell."

I am quite upset with the slow pace of bureaucracy. Despite having the fates of real people in their hands, it seems bureaucrats just dawdle, taking as much time as possible before their conclusions, and often leading applicants astray, as with my current application for Social Security. I was told I would get a phone call within a month; instead I found out aa letter had been sent, which I never received, and when I call the man who should've called me, all I get is his answering machine. I realize he must have many cases to work on, but can't he work a little faster, or get an assistant? Without a doubt, this system is the absolute worst for helping people, and I alwayds dread involvement with forms and more forms. I get even more depressed dealing with bureaucrats. Why a better way has yet to be found is a sign of how little the poor are valued in our society.

I am so sick of myself/ but I ain't got nobody else/ to make me feel like I belong/ when what is right seems so wrong/

I read on the internet that a company is seeking to develop Nikolai Tesla's invention to get energy from the Earth itself, without fouling the oceans or taking off the tops of mountains. I am very glad to hear of this, but it is not enough. This should be common knowledge, but instead the options mentioned are all centralized, increasing the power of governments and the banking industry, two of the biggest culprits in the ravaging of our fair Earth. Both institutions deserve to be knocked down, not given new opportunities to profit off of the credulity of the masses, but the media seem willing to play along, to make these criminals look like saviors. I am going to make some noise about this, since I feel the Establishment is taking us all for fools, trying to make us fall for their con game working the climate. Even more sickening is why a country like China, which has little oil of its own, doesn't develop Tesla's work, when it would put them above the West in short orde

The man most responsible for the wretched condition of the planet Earth is renowned financier J.P. Morgan. When Nikolai Tesla found a way to get energy directly through the air, Morgan was upset, for he could figure out no way to charge people for how much energy people would use, so he pulled his funding away from Tesla, whose energy tower burned down soon after. This has to surpass even the slaughter of the buffalo for all-time great ecological horror stories, and it's sad to think of what might have been. Millions of square miles would have remained unspoiled, as there would have been no need to pump oil except for the petrochemical industry, but the banksters would have lost out big time. No more loaning out billions to oil companies so they can drill more holes. Yes, the rape of Earth has been a lucrative business for the banking industry, one it is loath to give up soon, and now it can make more loans for turbines and solar cells, too. I have nothing against wind and solar

Shall I count the days that ended in silence?/ I am just glad there was no violence./ As much as I like the taste of blood/ I am glad no blood was spilled/ and I didn't have to lick it off the floor./ Shall I forget the days that ended in sorrow/ and made me dread the idea of tomorrow?/ But whenever I woke, it was today again,/ with no future threatening the glorious sun,/ and there was no need to cry any more./ No blood, no tears,/ no sense marking the years;/ for though time won't let me be,/ I feel there is still hope for me.

I need to write something funny. It's been a while since I wrote anything humorous, which worries me, since losing one's sense of humor is a sign of insanity, unless of course one happens to be a space alien who is masquerading as a human being. I wonder if space aliens ever masquerade as anything else. In Men In Black, a space alien took the form of a pug, so why wouldn't 23 percent of the space aliens on Earth be in the form of a housecat? No one would suspect a thing, which is why I suspect them all. After all, why do cats always want to sit on whatever one might be reading or writing? Dogs don't care one way or the other, so why do cats take such an interest? I think these creatures can actually decipher what one is working on, which is very frightening. I remember one documentary, with Peter Cushing, in which Mister Cushing discovers that cats were running the world, and they realized what he was up to, and at the end, he was chased down by dozens of cats, becaus