Be Advised...

(10)

I would like to say that at this point I am too drunk to continue. But I would be wrong about that. I am slightly buzzed, but not by any means drunk. And I have done my duty! I have drunk at least six beers on an empty stomach. No joy. I had hoped to be really drunk by now. As I think about (being gassed here and the gas has destroyed my train of thought) the problem...

The gas has stopped, giving me time to count beers: it looks like I have drunk about twelve 3.2 beers on an empty stomach. I have about eighteen beers available and it is only midnight, so be advised... things may yet go downhill.

We Are Interested in Big Ideas

(9)

In fact, the idea - the very idea - of a Chosen People is a racist idea. Few people are able to see that because they have been indoctrinated into the Old Religion. Those few who can see it are apt to wonder about their 'fellow man.' Furthermore, their 'fellow man' is apt to wonder about them. It is a dangerous situation, saved only by the egalitarianism of a True Democracy. This is our current situation. We are very close to religious civil war, which would be a war of the haves versus the have-nots: that is to say it would be a war between those who have a certain level of knowlege and sophistication versus those ignorant fools with which every civilation contends.

We Would Have Given Them Hawaii

(8)

Which finally brings us to more esoteric considerations. Mechanical beings are, at bottom, ultimately boring. What we find interesting are big ideas. Little machines do not interest us. For example, we are not interested in vacuum cleaners. We understand the mechanics well enough and the latest VC technology is of no interest. We are interested in life and death; we are interested in big ideas like truth and lies. We wonder about stupid old religions and their relationships to modern culture. We are convinced that modern science has effectively replaced the old and odius religions which heretofore purported to explain the procesesses of Nature. Modern Science has replaced those old religions - most of them.

Modern Science, has shown, for example, that the Jewish God WHTZSNM did not really bless the Jewish People with the ritual of circumcision, but instead cursed them. Modern Science has demonstrated that the long suffering Jewish People have been living under an eternal curse which even today plagues them under the name, 'Chosen People.' Modern Science has demonstrated that Circumcision is mutilation. Modern Science has demonstrated that the Jewish god WHTZSNM cursed the Jews with mutilation and de-sentisizatation. He hated the Jews. He conned the unsuspecting Jews into mutilating themselves because He hated them.

He furthermore gave them 'the promised land.' It was the Almighty Ultimate Joke born of hatred. He gave The Jews a desert surrounded by Arab Enemies who practiced a fanatical perversion of the Jewish religion. This was WHTZSNM's gift to His 'Chosen People.' You and I would have given our 'Chosen People,' Hawaii.

Strange

(7)

Now that I have finally divulged the name of the pathetic Jewish homosexual lawyer who is harrassing me I might as well divulge my name: Raymond Bernard Doherty. Furthermore I might as well divulge the name of the Class of 1954: Bishop England High School in Charleston South Carolina. My stupid, circumcised brother's name is David Donald Daniel (!) Doherty.

Now you know, in case you were too dis-interested to follow the previous clues. And now I will refer to Walter Gerash, pathetic Jewish faggot, as... what? Jewish Queer? Hebrew Homo? I must admit that I am not willing to spend much time on this question, my time being precious; I must admit, furthermore, that I am torn between JQ and HH. Hmmm... but only slightly torn. In fact not even torn but slightly stretched: I don't really give a shit.

Being gassed slightly at 2241. I take this development as an indication of displeasure (tap) from above.

Strange. There is little reaction (tap) to my revelations beyond a slight respiratory discomfort.

Walter Gerash: Jewish Queer

(6)

I never liked boys sexually, of course. The Jewish Faggot who currently lives upstairs and gasses and harrasses me is way too deluded to accept that. So sad. I will never like boys. I like girls and that will never, ever, change.

Kootch just came in and announced that the Broncos had lost by one point. I could care less, but in deference to Kootch I commiserated. Being gassed here. I presume that the Jewish queer, Walter Gerash, is displeased to discover that he has absolutely no chance with me.

Yes, folks, that is the name of the pile of Jewish Homosexual Dogshit who has been stalking and harrassing me for all these years. Walter Gerash: Jewish queer and lawyer. (Sue me if you dare, Wally! You pathetic Faggot!)

I Was Such an Idiot in Those Days

(5)

Just opened a letter from my HS (stomp) reunion group. It gave a website to which I could go in order to see the photos of their latest reunion. I tried it to no avail. It is another world (stomp). A list of the students was enclosed and I was gratified to see that one of my old enemies was dead. This SOB was a well-known bully who fucked with me one fine day. We got in a fight which ended in a draw, more or less. But he never fucked with me again. Now he is dead. Good. He was an ass hole.

My former girlfriend is also dead. I feel absolutely nothing for her, although I pined for that lost love for at least twenty years. She was my first mature love. We would smootch in the swing on her porch and I would get a hardon and after an evening of this my balls would begin to ache. Our relationship was ridiculously platonic by modern standards - I didn't even feel her tits - but just holding her warm body and french-kissing her was enough to get me s-o-o-o-o hot! After those sessions I would go home and jerk off and squirt an arc of cum about ten feet high. Nowadays when I jerk off I can attain a height of about ten millimeters, if that.

I really do not connect to the class of '54 except for that luscious female who loved me and made my testicles ache, and, of course, my stupid brother. There was one other girl I would have loved to fuck. Her name was Yvonne and she was pussimus maximus. She was much better-looking than Anne, my girl friend. But she seemed unattainable. Anyway, I was only attracted to girls who seemed to like me (boom) especially. That is the way it is with me. Even girls who liked me had to pass muster, and several of them failed the test. I remember a few of them who, by my current standards, were absolutely luscious and who I would fuck today at the drop of a hat but who I 'rejected' at the time on some ridiculous 'technicality.' I was such an idiot in those days.

Eternal Rage of the Spotted Mind

(4)

Rage. Rage is the answer to the previous question. But there is no understanding the Mechanical Mind. We can disassemble it, but we cannot understand it. It rages for no apparent reason.

Kootch is up, watching the Broncos. She is usually sleeping at this hour.

The VS is off (more gas here at 2032) and although I am coughing now and then I am warm next to my HHG which is now warming my legs. You would not believe our utility bill! I pay it, of course, because I have taken control of the heating-cooling system in self-defense. Here is what I do with it to survive:

I run the VS at full power all night. This is not a problem in the summertime, but in winter the entire apartment gets very cold. In the morning I turn off the VS, turn on the furnace, the oven, and the HHG, and hope they don't gas me. They usually don't. I open the oven door, of course, to let that heat up the kitchen. It takes about an hour to heat things up, meanwhile I dress in 'winter clothes' which is socks, long sweat pants, and a long-sleeved sweater. In the summertime I run around in a shirt and panties. I have learned to live through summer without the A/C, thus saving cooling costs.

The VS consists of four floor fans mounted in the windows - two in the bedroom (intake) window and two in the living room (exhaust) window. These fans have three power settings which produce roughly 1/3, 2/3, and 3/3 (thirds) power. This ventilation system is the only thing which has kept me alive.

A Sudden Heavy Gas Attack

(3)

Well, folks, 3.2 beer is definitely no match for good ole 86 proof whiskey. I am uninspired.

(Being gassed here by Jewish dog shit. The living room is also full of gas. Now turning up the VS to full power... I also have the electric heater going full blast. The electric heater, by the way, is a small portable device, a Honeywell Heat Giant. It keeps my right hand warm as I play C-III in the wintertime with the Ventilation System on (still gassing me heavily, overcoming the VS. Gas in Kootch's room too. I must have REALLY pissed off the old Jewish cocksucker-buttfucker who is lurking upstairs now. I am coughing constantly. What fun! The gas affects mostly my right lung, which, historically, has been subjected to the most gas because I usually sleep on my left side.)

Hows about a gas log in real time?

----------
2001: Heavy gas, overwhelming the vs which is turned up to full power. --> LR. More gas. Kootch's room is also full of it...
2008: Gas faded out by the VS. The gas attack is over. This was an absolutely unprecedented demonstration!
----------

Which brings us to the question of exactly what triggered this very heavy gas attack... which question I will leave unanswered. There is no point in speculation concerning what is really an Alien Mechanism (the 'brain' of the stalker).

A Pile of Shit

(2)

I bought Half Life 2 last week. I was looking forward to playing the sequel to one of the best video games ever created. The sequel turned out to be a pile of shit. Firstly, after I 'installed' the game I couldn't play it until I had created a 'steam account' on the internet and got official permission to play the game I had just installed. After much nonsense I was able to get a steam account, after which the game began to 'decrypt itself' at which point my computer hung up. This convinced me to bring that pile of excrement back to the store and get my 55 dollars back. I do not recommend HL-2.

However, C-III continues to be 'the gift which keeps on giving.'

Gas Log

(1)

Well, as you can see, I missed that date. I have to be in the mood for this stuff. Tonight's mood is powered by some Natural 3.2 beer on an empty stomach.

This is the second version. The first version was lost, apparently, possibly because of the 'gas log.' Do gas logs irritate Judeo-faggotry? In the sincere hope that this is indeed the case I will now undertake to redo the gas log:

----------
Up at 10:45 no gas.
Gas in LR at 11:15 --> BR (C-III) (gas in living room, moved to bedroom. Play C-III).
G in BR at 1200 --> LR - gas - turned on VS (ventilation system).
1210: Gas gone from LR and BR. Cold. Turned off VS.
1238: Gas LR --> BR. They follow me, stomp above.
1300: (being gassed here! --> LR and tivo LKL. Turned on VS 1/6)
1300: Back LR. Watch tv.
1310: Gas LR --> BR play C-III
1327: Gas BR --> LR.
1400: Gas LR --> BR.
1415: Gas BR --> LR. VS=1/3.
1444: Gas is too much for 1/3. Fills entire apt except for KR (Kootch's room) --> KR.
1453: Back in Kitchen - gas causes runny nose, lung discomfort - BR ok --> BR.
1507: No gas. Turn off VS.
(I then took a shower and went to the maul for a walk and to the super market)
1640: Gas in LR as I watch news w/beer. VS=1/3. OAT=20F.
1650: Cough - tap.
1653: Open patio door. Put on winter clothes.
1659: Clear throat - wall bang.
1704: Abandon LR,
----------

Is This the End of Blog?

(11)

This is the third time I have tried to write about my Booger Bible. The previous attempts have failed when I tried to save them. This will be my last attempt. If this attempt fails I will abandon this particular venue and go back to my old method. For the last time:

I recently blew my nose and discovered a Bible Booger in the paper hanky. (A Bible Booger is a bloody snot.) I dug out the BB and pasted it in my Booger Bible at Genesis 17:1, The Covenant and Circumcision.

I have been pasting bloody snots (Bible Boogers) in my Booger Bible for years. I have several reasons for doing this ritual, none of which you will ever know unless they stop me from publishing this post.

So: do we go on from here or do we drop this blog?

Bible Boogers

(11)

Which brings us up to date.

Amazingly, I was about to sign off when I picked up a paper towel and blew my nose: there, in the folds of that common paper towel, lay a Bible Booger. I grasped it on my right index finger and went into the kitchen-dining room where I got out my Booger Bible. I opened my BB to Genesis 17:1 (The Covenant and Circumcision). A previous bloody booger had been pasted there. But I was in a hurry and not in the mood to find another appropiate passage. I pasted that sucker into Genesis 17:1 on top of the previous 'entry.'

You might be wondering what a 'bible booger' really is. Listen up and listen good:

A Bible Booger is a bloody snot. No blood, no acceptable booger. A BB is eligible to be pasted in The Bible, especially the Very Old and Very Odius Testament - but not the New Testament - and Revalations.

I have been pasting Bible Boogers into my Booger Bible for years. I love doing Bible Boogers. It is my way of demonstrating my contempt for the Jewish god WHTZSNM and the Very Old and Odius Testament.

Lovely and Glorious Pets

(9)

I've been doing this for many hours, alternating shots of whiskey mixed with Diet Pepsi and ice, with Natural 3.2 beers, and this has brought us together since about 1730 to about 0120 next day. Next morning, actually and I am on my last drink. After this I plan to eat supper, which is 'stuffed green peppers' which Kootch helped me to create. There is also some scoopable corn chips and a dip which Kootch made from green chile and refried beans. I also plan to view my favorite videos, Jesus Christ Superstar, and Cosi Fan Tutte (English version). Don't think that when I leave you I will plop. Not at all. I do my duty, then I play.

I have enjoyed reremembering Beethoven's piano concerto number one. In fact, at 0133 I am still enjoying that glorious music.

I know that tomorrow I will repent of my alcoholic excesses. I will 'sleep in' hoping that They will not gas me in my misery. They usually do.

Beyond that I can not see. I presume the future will follow the past. Given that scenerio I will greet you, my lovely and glorious pets, next Friday night.

I Have No Doubts

(8)

This brings us to the gravy point. The 'gravy point' is that point where I figure I have done my duty and all and any nonsense which follows is acceptable. So watch out! You might read something devastating here. Be careful... proceed with the utmost caution. There are some things that you really do not want to know. Right? You know I'm right.

I just finished watching The MacLaughlin Group. Good stuff as usual.

So here I sit soaking in gravy. So what?

It seems to me that you would be interested in my latest game of Civilization III. You are that type, it seems to me. You are interested in stuff like that. So why not describe my latest game?
Listen up and listen good:

I began in 4000bc with a single settler and a single worker. I created a city, Rome. My worker created roads in the vicinity as Rome created another settler. That settler sallied forth to create yet another city, and so forth. My Empire grew until I encountered another civilization, The Russians. The Roo-skis were a surley lot, unpleasable. So, when I grew tired of enduring their repeated incursions on my territory, I invaded them with my legionaries. It turned out that when my first legionary warrior tasted victory, my kingdom entered a Golden Age.

This Golden Age lasted for 20 turns. Meanwhile I more or less destroyed the Rooskis, taking over their territory and their cities. My kingdom grew.

Eventually I became aware of the presence of other civilizations: the French, the English, the Zulu, the Chinese, the Indians (of India), and the Aztecs, in addition to me and the Russians whom I had not totally destroyed. We were eight civilizations, and only one of us would eventually rule the world.

The Slavery of Old Religions

(7)

I claim that something like this is the most fundamentally important information that you can impart to your children. Knowing this, they will not be defenseless against the various Old and Odious Religions which will inevitably seek to enslave them. This essential knowlege will tend to create in them the sense that they are citizens living on a rare and fragile world, and that they therefore have a moral duty to do what they can to protect their world.

This essential information will keep them free from the many religious and political con artists who would enslave them, and eventually destroy us all.

Universal Catechism

(6)

I would like to propose an alternative to Catechism. If you remember your catechism you remember that God created you '...to know Him, to love Him, to serve Him, and to be happy with Him forever in this life and the Next Life.'

This is nonsense. We need to replace this nonsense with reality. Only then will the Human Species have a sporting chance to cope with the real challenges which confront us all. We need to create a New Catechism for Humanity. What might that new catechism be? Here is a suggestion as to how it might begin:

Q: Why do I exist?
A: Nobody really knows.
Q: How did I get here?
A: Sexual reproduction.
Q: What should I do?
A: Live well.
Q: How shall I live well?
A: Be true.
Q: What is Truth?
A: Understanding.
Q: Understanding what?
A: Understanding Everything.
Q: What is Everything?
A: We do not yet have an answer for that question.
Q: Is it really true that I will eventually die like a dog?
A: That is true.
Q: And I will never return?
A: So far as we know you will never return.

I recommend this Universal Catechism. Teach it to your children before Kindergarten.

Jesus and Gasoline

(5)

Which brings us to the question of 'alternative morality'. Is there a 'Humanistic Morality?' Is there a human morality which is free from the ideas of the old obsolete religions? I think so. I think that such a morality can be based on Plato and Spinoza and Modern Science. In fact, I see this modern idea of morality, this 'New Morality,' at issue every day as I observe our culture.

(Laughing, of course. I can hardly watch the news on tv nowadays without laughing.)

This emerging Humanism is provoking a reaction from Obsolete Religion. You can see it everywhere on tv. Religious Nuttery is rampant. Western Religion (or at least American Fundamentalism) is actually fighting a shooting war against Islamic Fundamentalism! Two obscure sects of two major religions are at war! And everybody knows it!

Your sons and your daughters, whom you have raised properly, are ready and willing to go 'over there' and kill for Jesus and gasoline!

Circumcised Dogs

(4)

This brings us to an important lesson: when dealing with Representatives of the Establishment you should always record the proceedings. People are at their very best when they know they are on record.

And this brings us to our theme for tonight, which is the idea - the Judeo-Christian idea - that every human word, and indeed every human thought is forever recorded in the mind of God, and that after our deaths that same God will judge us and dispense justice - Eternal Justice - based on those almighty memories. This is a good idea as far as it goes, but no idea is perfect.

There are many objections to this idea, especially to the idea of God making 'recordings' of our very thoughts, these naughty thoughts to be used against us eventually. The idea impinges on the idea of 'free will,' for one thing. If God is watching our thoughts how can our wills be truly free? Are not those wills at least constrained by fear?

We (most of us) see through this attempt at religious constraint on behavior. We understand intuitively that the idea is nonsense. We live our lives as if God had no idea what we were really thinking. That is, we have a fundamental and intuitive sense of personal privacy. Indeed, most of us live out our lives as if God had only a smattering knowlege of our most egregious sins.

We go through the motions of 'honoring' this God 'who sees all,' mouthing various 'praises' designed to calm the Almighty Ego, but we know, deep down, that it is all hope and fear, and that there is no God and that we will all die like dogs.

Circumcised Dogs.

An Amicable Encounter With the ACSD

(3)

It turned out that the young man had indeed called the ACSD. About twenty minutes or so later there was a LOUD knock on the door. I knew it was the police. I picked up my voice recorder and turned it on, then I looked through the peephole. A dark figure stood to my right, probably a cop. This must be common police practice because I have observed it several times. The idea must be that the knockee might shoot the cop through the door. I understand that and approve of the practice. I answered the door. The cop advised me that he was responding to a call from upstairs and asked me whether we might converse inside my apartment. I agreed, and asked him whether he minded me making a recording of the conversation. He did not mind.

We then had a pleasant discussion.

I gave the nice young officer, a certain C. D. Johnson #9948, my version of the altercation. He seemed interested in the 'stalking aspect' of the problem and asked several questions including the name of the stalker and the name of the ACSD detective I had talked to concerning this unpleasant stalking situation. The name of detective Paul Goodman escaped me at the time (I was VERY upset) but the interested young officer seemed satisfied that he could discover whatever he needed to discover about the situation from my Date of Birth. I trust that he did.

The meeting then ended amicably.

I Stomp Back

(2)

There was another encounter with the people upstairs a few days ago. After a long series of 'stomps' (or the dropping of heavy objects) just above me as I played C-III on the computer, I got irritated enough to 'stomp back.' I put my shoes on and went up there and kicked their door. That is what I call, 'Stomping back.' There was no reaction. But after several more of their 'stomps' or 'drops' I went up there and kicked their door again. This time there was a response.

As I was about halfway down the stairwell a young man opened the door and addressed me. He seemed to be outraged that I had kicked his door. I told him it was my answer to his stomps. He denied stomping. I called him a liar. I advised him furthermore that if he did not cease and desist from that odious practice I would see to it that he would come to regret it. Then came from the young man the magic words: 'Are you threatening me?'

Well folks, you and I know by now that it is a crime to threaten another person. I denied threatening the young man, and left the scene. I figured that I had got my point across. I wondered whether he would call the ACSD. I figured he would, so I broke out a Starlight Mint to freshen my breath. It's not nice to talk to a police officer if you have bad breath (It's REALLY not nice to talk to a police officer if you have alcohol breath but I swear I was sober as a judge).

I've Been Thinking

(1)

As usual it was fascinating rereading the previous entries, having 'forgotten' 95% of it due mostly to booze. Much of the fascination resided in the reremembering of each word as I reread. It would seem that at some uncouncious level I did indeed remember. Same with the music, BPC-1. I never get tired of it, probably for the same reason.

I've been thinking. I have what seems to be an insoluble problem, hence all the thinking. Thinking needs to be done in the absense of drinking. So, after thirteen days of thinking I am convinced that my problem is not insoluble and I have therefore decided to allow myself another night of drinking. Lucky you.

Pulling Wool

(2)

It is close to 0200. I have eaten supper and watched a little Cosi Fan Tutte (English version) on tv. I have also reflected on recent events, and I am beginning to form an idea of what really went on with the folks upstairs and the ACSD. The entire scene upstairs was obviously set up. To what purpose?

The first thing which strikes me about this incident is that it was an island in the midst of a vast ocean of years. It was a noisy party. At least several people were there and they were playing loud music. This is virtually unprecedented recentmemorywise!

When I knocked on their door nobody answered. Apparently too noisy. I knocked louder. No response. Then I banged on the door with my fist. A male answered my bang but did not open the door. Judging by his voice and pronounciation he was a faggot. He said he was going to call the police, and mentioned the word, 'harrassment.' I told the faggot that it was a good idea to call the police. I would like to talk with them. The police never arrived but the party continued, so I called the police. I told the lady at the other end that I needed police service, that there was a party upstairs which was too noisy and that they had refused to grant my request to quiet the proceedings. I told her that I did not need to actually speak with the officers who responded. The noisy party continued.

At some point the noise stopped and I attribute that result to a police response.

This brings us to the question: why this sudden change in behavior from upstairs? Could it have something to do with this blog? I think so. If I am correct, then the obvious conclusion is that this apparently lonely blog is being read by people who matter, and that the recent party was a primitive attempt to pull the wool over the eyes of the ACSD.

There are other possible interpretations, of course, but there is absolutely no doubt that this party was an attempt at deception and that it involved deceiving the ACSD. An alternative theory is that it was standard bait designed to get me charged with a crime.

Whatever. Nighty-night.

The End of Philosophy

(1)

0030 hours and I am on my last drink. If I had a bowl of weak Ganja to smoke I would do it now. And I can tell you from experience that I would only do a half bowl: Pot can put you over the top in less than five minutes if you've drunk too much booze.

So here is the end of philosophy.

Is Dirty Work Eternal?

(10)

The question of whether this new idea of God (the supernatural) is a fact or a fiction does not enter into our considerations regarding God's alleged Dirty Work. Not at all. Such ideas fit well within the Matrix of Nature. All ideas fit Nature, though most may not be true. Thus we do not consider God's alleged invention of The Supernatural to be 'Dirty Work.' Not at all. In fact, we feel deep down, that God's invention of 'The Supernatural' may be a form of revenge against Nature which has no real existence and, as such, is very understandable. But what if we are wrong?

What if God was successful in creating an antagonist, so to say, to Our Natural World?

What if God has indeed created a Supernatural World? What then? What if we will all live forever in Heaven or burn forever in Hell? It is precisely this scenerio to which I refer when I propose the idea of 'God's Dirty Work.' Can there be a form of Eternal Dirty Work?

Does Hell exist?

An Appealing Idea

(9)

God invented the notion that natural beings could live forever. This idea went against Nature, but it proved to be effective. Earth's Sentient Beings, loath to contemplate their own eventual non-existence, took to the idea. The Supernatural became popular.

There was only one catch: If those folks did not follow certain Godly rules during their short lives on Earth they would live forever in Hell. Alternatively, if they followed the prescribed rules they would live forever in Heaven. There was nothing like this in Nature. In Nature, beings came into existence, and after living their lives, went out of existence. Eternal Life was a new idea not found in Nature. Eternal Life was an addenum to Nature and it appealed to beings who were otherwise doomed to die. It was a very appealing idea.

God's Dirty Work

(8)

God had made a study of Mother Nature's technique over the eons. He eventually reasoned out the fundamental moral rule of Nature to the effect that Good and Evil are eternally intertwined. God began to think again, determined to come up with a new idea, a New Command, which Mother Nature, Glorious Technician that She is, could hardly refuse to obey.

But as God thought and thought, it dawned on Him that Nature had completed The Universe. Nature was perfect. The Universe was perfect. Nothing could be done to improve either. It was at this point that God realized He had lost control of The Universe.

Saddened by this realization, God invented 'the supernatural.'

The Supernatural was God's attempt to trump The Natural, which had been under the charge of Mother Nature exclusively. And here, in this new realm of 'the supernatural,' we come to the idea of God's Dirty Work. And it is a Dirty Work indeed.

Or Else

(7)

Mother Nature created The Universe in response to the Will of God. That is our working hypothesis. God, at the top, gave the order. God did not become Personally involved in the Details of Creation. God is a 'generalist,' not a 'specialist' or a 'technician.' Minute details do not interest God. God did not 'micro-manage' the Creation, and that is a good thing.

Mother Nature created The Universe about 13 billion years ago. Since then, matters evolved over time, and finally, after 13 billion years of Evolution, God saw his chance to become involved in The Great Spectacle. About six thousand years ago He announced to the startled residents of The Earth that He was the creator and that furthermore they had better behave in ways pleasing to God or else.

It is this 'or else' which is the focus of our current interest.

Clean and Dirty Work

(6)

Where was I? Ah, Dirty Work. God's decisions apparently also involve a lot of 'dirty work.' I am sure you know what I mean by that: death and dying; pain; suffering. On the other hand, there is a lot of good clean work flowing from the decisions at the top: love, joy, beauty, truth...

So you could justifiably conclude that although the decisions of God do indeed involve 'dirty work,' those decisions are justified by all the 'clean work' which necessarily results. And I would have to agree with you. The same might also be true at the presidential level. Lots of people die as a result of a presidential decision, but on the other hand lots of people are benefited. Good and Evil are intertwined. Always have been, always will be.

But is that really a law of God? I think not. That is a law of Nature. In the next post we will examine the kind of dirty work which we can attribute only to God.

Harrassment!

(5)

I just knocked on the door of the folks upstairs to complain about the noise. They refused to answer the door. When I told them to keep it quiet up there they advised me they were calling the police concerning 'harrassment!'

Harrassment! This is going to be fun, folks. Stay tuned. This might well be the first case of harrassment to be blogged in real time!

Ten minutes or so later they are quiet. They must be preparing for a visit from our intrepid ACSD. Yes, that must be it. They certainly don't give a shit about ME.

0909 (2109) and I wait with 'bated breath... just heard a couple of doors slam outside... what a delicious situation...! Nope, not the cops. They are still noisy so I called the ACSD. They should be here soon...

0931 (time flys!) and the loud music stopped several minutes ago. I take it the ACSD has arrived! They are not parked outside our unit, so I take it they must be in the car parked at the other end of the building with parking lights on... Will they succeed in ferreting out a culprit? And will it somehow be me!? We'll see.

0937 Hmm. Looks like the previously mentioned car has left the scene, and it remains quiet upstairs. Could this be a 'mission accomplished' by the ACSD? If so, then I say, 'Yaaay for the ACSD!'

Dirty Work

(4)

In the previously articulated law, the words, 'the work,' include the sub-category, 'dirty work.' Of course we all know what 'dirty work' is, and in the context of Presidential Decisions, 'dirty work' refers, at bottom, to killing people. Killing lots of people.

The Gods and the Presidents understand on some level that their decisions will inevitably involve a lot of 'dirty work.' That is a given. But in the interests of Simplicity that sub-category is never explicitly mentioned or even seriously considered. Dirty work is dirty work, and both Gods and Presidents would do very well not to cogitate much in that area.

Thinking Simple at the Top

(3)

This brings us to question the value of complexity. What good is it? We all know that complexity is absolutely fundamental, but what good is it? (Time for more neuron nutrition - standby.) The answer seems to be that complexity has no place at the top. Gods and Presidents need to think in the simplest possible terms and leave the rest to the technicians. Did not WHTZSN create The Universe with the words, 'Let there be light?'

Did not Mother Nature then manufacture the Big Bang? I think we can all safely conclude that WHTZSNM had absolutely no clue whatsoever about the nature of the Periodic Table when He uttered those fateful words of His. He was doing 'big picture thinking' and not bothering His Pretty Little Head about technicalities. Can we agree on that? Yez?

Which brings us to the first law of leadership: Think simple, and let others do the work.

Simplicity Sells

(2)

Time to congratulate the prez on his win (I'm giggling as I write this). Congratulations mister president! I have enjoyed your first four years immensely! Very entertaining! I trust that what you have in mind for the next four years will be equally entertaining!

You guessed it, folks: I am sitting here listening to BPC#1, sipping whiskey; we are in for another long, entertaining night. Yez.

What happened to Kerry? Some wag on some tv show hit the nail on the head, so to say, in reference to Kerry: 'His hands never seemed to know what his mouth was saying.' This was undoubtedly a reference to Kerry's bizarre body language as he gives a speech. Bush, on the other hand (eheh) was well connected in the mouth-hand coordination department: simple words, simple gestures. The People understood Bush. Simplicity sells.

These People Are Terrorists

(1)

They did in fact gas me 'til 0400 or so. I got a couple of hours of sleep, then they began gassing me again; I decided to get up and play C-III. About noon I tried to get some more sleep, but the gassing started again! I played the game of 'hide under the covers until the oxygen runs out,' but then gave that up after 30 minutes or so, and began to breathe their gas. I figured that by Monday morning I would be a candidate for another HMO visit. Then they stopped the gassing and I got about four hours of much needed sleep. Now, at 1900 or so I'm fresh as a daisy. If their intention was to change my sleeping schedule, they succeeded.

They gassed me intermittently during C-III, as usual, and as usual I went to the LR and watched tivo stuff until they gassed me in the LR, at which point I went back to C-III (in my bedroom). It was typical gassing behavior and typical evasive behavior. This stuff goes on day after dreary day.

I called them 'stalkers,' but that is really too kind. These people are terrorists.

An Extremely Dangerous Situation

(1)

Looks like it is time to try again to get some outside assistance against these stalkers. The recent gassing has been literally unbearable at night when I'm trying to get to sleep. Last night I hit the sack before midnight and they gassed me until 4:00 AM. Tonight promises to be a repeat performance. During the day I can move to another room and escape the gas, but at night I'm a sitting duck. I'm worried about my right lung, which seems to have become especially sensitive to their number one preference nowadays, 'heavy gas.' They apparently have an unlimited supply of this stuff and can feed it into the air just outside the bedroom window. I'm pretty sure I know how they do it. They are able to literally make my right lung ache for four solid hours.

The routine is the same every night: five minutes after I have gone to bed the gassing begins. They will typically tap or stomp the floor above me when I cough. Sometimes they will stop the gassing for a while, then stomp the floor above me when they think their latest dose is due to be felt. They seem to have the timing correct to within five seconds or so.

I run the ventilation system at full power all night in order to move as much air through the apartment as possible and this has virtually eliminated the previous gasses from their inventory, but 'heavy gas' is, as I have said, available in large quantities and they are able to overcome the VS with it. I think they are trying to kill me 'legally.' That is, they are trying to cause a fatal lung condition which will do the job for them.

Meanwhile, I am not without self-defensive capabilities, and I have a limited amount of patience. These factors all tend to make for an extremely dangerous situation.

So I intend request police service again. I will also try to get a lawyer. Naturally I will blog the results, naming names as I go along.

The Circumcised Press

(8)

Booze is gone and I am in muchie phase now. A quick glance at tv suggests that Bush will win the election - but I could be wrong. You might be wondering whether I would be disappointed if Bush did in fact win. No. I am not a participant, I am merely an observer. I laugh. I laugh if Bush wins; I laugh if Kerry wins. I am not one of you. I do not participate. I observe, and I laugh.

A little past ten PM now and I am still in Munchie Phase (tap). But I should say that I am in awe of the Circumcised Press (the 4th Estate or the News Media or whatever you choose to call it) as I watch tv and listen. And I can tell you - idiots that you are - that these are the folks who keep you free. Neither the Republicans nor the Democrats nor the 'Independents' will succeed in the task of keeping you idiots out there free, without the Circumcised Press. You ought to raise a glass on this auspicious occasion to the real heroes of Democracy.

Dark Disappearance

(7)

S0: will the dark script continue into the next post? Obviously, no.

I just now poured my last allotment of Canadian Mist into my glass full of ice, and filled it up with ice cubes and Diet Pepsi. I am in my last throes, blogwise. I have allowed Beethoven to expire, and the only sound I hear is the voice of Dan Rather as he reports in the classic way.

I do not understand what Dan is saying, I only hear his voice. Other voices have been relegated to the realm of (boom) 'auditory uncertainty,' as I strain to hear news of 'Our Erection' while I write this.

Jewish Gas

(6)

To bring you up to date on the gassing, I was gassed quite heavily on hangover day beginning at approximately noon, and gassing continues almost hourly. I think I have identified a fairly new gas which does not present lung-wise: This new gas is not detectable except that it produces a CNS result. I have been observing this new gas for months now and I am certain that it is not a figment of my imagination (like your stupid religion). Here are the symptoms of this new gas:

Approximately 5 minutes after I crawl into bed my skin begins to feel uncomfortable: there are hundreds of 'pinpricks, all over my body, especially on those areas under 'compression.' This effect lasts for 15-45 minutes, then it disappears. Rarely, it does not appear at all. I have been able to eliminate any last minute medication as a cause of this phenomenon.

This gas is obviously a CNS Antagonist. I don't know what the ultimate result of this gas will be, nor do I have a clue as to why 'they' are bothering to administer this gas. (the script has just changed, as you can see. I had nothing to do with it.)

Question: will this dark script persist? Answer: yes.

You Can Quote Me on This

( 5)

As I write this stuff I keep thinking back to my most recent intuition vis Pot: that it might be the perfect antidote to Anorexia. After all, Anorexia is a reaction to Cultural Domination, which is why it appears more frequently in females. This possible realization suggests that not only is Pot the answer, but Illegal Pot! In other words, the government should not interfere with this un-official prescription, prescribing some sort of legal analog to THC. As I see it, that approach would be a disaster. Those girls need to be introduced to the concept of imperfection, and a sordid Government approach would be anti-resultant. Those girls need to smoke ILLEGAL Pot!They need to violate culture in a fundamental psychological way in order to escape from the prison which entraps them. You can quote me on this.

Lost

(4)

This is a replay from mem(boom)ory of the previous post-candidate which was fucked up by the folks who control the telephone line. The subject had to do with the fact that I had discovered my Video Disk player. I remember mentioning (boom) that I had so far played two Video Disks (F-911 and Eternal Sunshine) and that I had done a brief review of both, finding that Michael Moore needed to acquire a narrator on the level of the fella on Frontline, and that ES was a disaster except for the panties and the actor-actress combination which I admire intensely.

My latest foray into this new world is, 'Dog Town,' which I have not yet viewed. My 'to view' list includes but is not limited to 'Lost in Translation.'

I have learned to save my (tap) posts before publishing them.

A Hot Water Bong

(3)

The night is young and I am consuming booze at an alarming rate. But not to worry: when the booze has all been imbibed there are the ordurves (sp?): scoopable corn chips and a special dip made by Kootch (refried beans, green chile, cheese, heated in the microwave). Nothing sops up booze like food. Nothing inhibits further boozing more than food. Nothing creates a raging appetite like Pot. (Hmm: could Pot be useful in fighting Anorexia? I think so! Try it!) Not that I have any Pot available. And not that I have ordered any Pot Seeds via The Internet. I am only thinking about it. Obvious downside is that Pot would work for the Jewish Queers who are gassing me, further degrading my upper-respiratory system. So my calculations need to take (stomp) that consideration into consideration. Furthermore I would need to acquire a Bong (being gassed here). I know from experience that Pot is harsh when it is drawn through a 'joint' but that Pot is mellow when it is drawn through a hot water bong. So under current conditions I would never do Pot through a joint. I might eat Pot in a brownie, but I am on a diet. So this only leaves me with one option: a hot water bong.

Tonight's Erection

(2)

Kootch just informed me that there is nothing to watch on tv tonight 'because of the erection.' I was mystified, because I wasn't aware of any erection. Then it dawned on me she was talking about tv's almost universal coverage (no pun intended) of today's voting. I tell you, folks, it is such fun having a Japanese wife.

(boom) And that covers, apparently, a little dittie I was thinking about in the last two days: doing a little play on words which would lampoon Kootch's pronounciation, which, as I just found out, now rivals Bush's. You see, what Kootch really said was that there was nothing to watch on tv, that even her Japanese channel was focused on the election results and that she was going to hit the sack and nighty-night. Her subject fit the facts, but her pronounciation did not follow the script. So I had her pronounce 'election' several times, looking for the teltale 'r.' No joy. She pronounced the word perfectly (for a Japanese). Thus I must report to you that the first paragraph above was only a fantasy. I must further advise you (at risk of TMI) that the only erection problems I am aware of are in tv commercials.

My Politic is Local

(1)

(Slight number problems in the last series of posts but the system generally worked.) They say that all politics is local. Their mantra is quite correct in my particular case, as I voted (tap) my local politic today: I voted not. I voted not because there was nothing (the Judeo-faggot forces above me are beginning to do boom-boom now) worth voting for. America does not work, in my particular case. There was no referendum to vote a certain ACSD detective out of his job. There was no referendum to force Arapahoe County to grant me equal protection under the law. So I voted not.

But I remain an avid observer of Americana (among other things), and I am here doing my observational duty, both tv sets blaring video and one of them doing audio in the background of Beethoven' piano concerto number one.