Reincarnation Instant Breakfast.
My hair insists on being a hot mess. It is long, and I am going to let it get so long that it gets under my heals and paralyses me, because I am a neo-hippie. Unlike their extinct forebreeders, neo-hippies are not afraid to dye their hair. I tried to dye mine platinum blonde, (look - he is already planting clues in his writing), but it made my hair a kind of copper golden brown like that Aborigine kid in, "Australia".
But, after a good bathing, my hair frizzies out from under my baseball hat, and I look like Bozo. I have tried everything. Today: coconut oil, sea-salt water, cream rinse and styling lotions - and hairspray. Nope. The wind undoes everything I try. Oh well. In my tan tank top and shorts, I attracted a lot of girls anyway, somehow. And do you know what this means? Well, because women always forsage the future, this means that we are headed into some new hippie kind of era, where men are free and rebellious and kissy kissy, and so on.
Last night, I watched the movie, "Slumdog Millionaire," again. All of you should see this movie, if you believe that, "Wisdom is the retention of innocence through adversity." Damn, I loved the Indian dance at the wonderful end, as well as all the music, and so on. This sexy, well-done movie is more than an expert puller of heart-strings, and purveyour of childish wonder, and violence. It is more than a corporate money-maker, coming up with all sorts of pop formulae to pull the people in, with little tricks of coincidence, and ultimate appeals to religious belief.
This movie is a mystical representation of the universe, in its vast magic, which can either be seen, or unseen, depending on choice. Depending on moral decisions. It is the universe in miniature - an awkward little model - the prayer of a few men and women up to some more profound movie, infinite in its scope. Through all the poverty and hunger and violence, meaning emerges. The accidents that happen are not just coincidences, but natural gifts of the Origami Universe itself. This is how the meaningful dynamic of LIFE is created.
And, when one brother wins, "the lottery," by all the accidental wit that honesty has given him, the other brother dies in a shoot-out, yet glad for his brother, and wondering aloud, "God is great!"
This kind of god is great. This kind of coming together of accident and irony, that we should go on, rejoicing in life - and dancing! How could it be any other way? This was an absolutely fantastic movie in every way!
Of course, there are disagreements about this or that, but what are you going to do, shut every damn thing down because it does not meet every moral apprehension? For example, critics complained that this movie was a constant, 100% free product-placement for the Indian TV show, "Do You Want To Be A Millionaire?!" But, what else is anyone going to do? Pretend that the TV show doesn't exist, and so never write such an amazing movie? Some critics are overrated and overpaid. They should start off being janitors.
Sure, the movie gave a slanted view of the slums and their people, in India. But, along with other movies, like, "City of God," and, "Lion," add them together and a fuller picture is given - and viewers are actually able to figure things out for themselves. This is what progress means. It means starting off with crap. And then working with better and better tools, with better and better results. I don't know any true progressive who cannot look back on the past and its urgencies and emergencies, without fondness and compassion. If only so many of today's Dems would do so, we would be in a far better place right now.
As I walked through Menards, a young Indian girl seemed intent on staring at me as she passed. Therefore, so did her younger sister. Not many Indians around here. They were like the ONE family. That's cool, because my empathy for Indian children was heightened the night before, and this was probably the only encounter of the day that said the slightest, "meaning."
Before you liberal Puritans step in to spoil all this by accusing me of pedophilia, because I looked at a kid with meaning, let me remind you that they are selling away 10 year old girls to marriage over there. That's a far cry from me looking at a kid with meaning. And get this, America! Yesterday, I watched an old movie about Will Rogers, (a Cherokee), which was great, except for his lifeless jokes. One of his jokes was this:
"An 86 year old member of our community wanted to marry a 16 year old girl. We all advised him against this. 'What about when you get older, say 96?' 'Well,' he said, 'When I'm 96 I'll just dump her for another 16-year-old!'"
Bwa - ha ha ha ha ha!!! God bless America.
Anyway, Indian girls of any age tend to find me attractive, and that is one of the few things I like about being me. It tells me that they are keying into something deep that I have always been about - or, at least I'd like to think. But, after all my love of Indian music, of George Harrison, of Buddhism and Hinduism, of the echoes in Celtic music, of my past Indian friends, of my love of "imperialist" Kipling - and wasn't George Orwell raised in India??? - idk - I just have a deep fondness that here is the birthplace of Indo-European languages, and it ends up with a lot of modern English language and culture superimposed on it, despite an ever-percolating human starkness even worse than that of Mexico.
After all this, because of it, I like to get eyed by Indian girls. They are the only girls who could convince me to never get silicon gel implants. And, they don't even care if I don't collect a harem, like those damn terrorists do, lol.
Both times I finished viewing this movie, btw, what was playing on NPR's, "Echoes," but some amazing electronic Indian music?! India is up and coming, and scary and sad and tragically human. Decades ago, I was thinking that the USA need to allign itself more with India and Australia, economically and politically. Soon, India will have more people than any other country on Earth. What - 1.5 billion or whatever...
Where do we put all this surfeit population? Oh, I do so hope the computers will solve this problem for us, uh huh.
If you can't recognise that severe and revolutionary times are coming in our lifetime, then you are a pimple waiting to be popped.
Soooo... The theme turns to how my inviolate hair somehow waved down countless females today, which it did. Plus the deceptively healthy-looking demeanour of my framage. I won't bore you with the illustrious details.
Now, we turn to how the entire country is conspiring to prevent any kind of flowing-hair revolution. In fact, it may not have so much to do with flowing hair, but it hits at the very essence!
So, the story is like this... How many ways can a person be fucked with in this country, in the normal course of a day, in order to put him back into his supposedly capitalist yet completely dysfunctional way?
I have CFS because I went beyond the call of duty for one, possibly two, people in my life. I never understood that I was positting Catholic ideals in a petty PROTESTING country. I was undone by all this, in every possible way - health, social, romance, legal, sanity, and so forth, fritter and fretter. I lost all, over all. When all was said and done, I moved to this godforsaken town, to save money. The petty assaults have been interminable. Never-ending.
Lately, this guy starts mowing into THIS property, cuz he have a big machine. Stupid fucking male have a big machine. Don't even know how to fucking mow. Mows too short - kills the grass and brings in weeds. Mows after rains - clogs up machine, wastes gas, leads to rust. Doesn't this remind you of the people mounding mulch around their trees, only to end up stupidly killing those trees? That is because the idiocy is everywhere rampant. Not only this - it gets PAID to prevail.
I look at the plant and animal kingdoms, suffering this, and I feel such great sorrow and shame.
So - here is this guy downstairs, forever trying to mess with me. Last night, he produced something to wake me up at 2:am. This was followed a minute later with some BANG. So, I knew that the reason I was awakened was because of his nonsense. I never went back to sleep, and then let my dog out at 4:30am. As has happened so many, many time before, this guy turns his living-room light on and off to intimidate me, the coward that he is. It's disgustingly pathetic. (Today, I sent an email to my LL, slightly about this, but more about garden issues).
So, this disrupts my circadian rhythm, which affects CFS severely. (As he probably knows, I am sure).
I continue to keep to my plans. But, I am so ill, I am following behind my expected schedule. So, I call the bus company, which already had terrible service to begin with. I ask if I can move my pick-up times up by 1/2 hour. This is something that can be and is done, often. But this new girl refuses, and hangs up on me - or she sets me on hold infinitely. So I call back, and she acts like she already gave me an answer of, "No," which she never did. So, you see, my sitting on hold forever, and my being refused by this meat-head, amounted to what? It amounted to me being even LATER, meaning possible problems for their drivers in the future.
Why can't people just figure out one fucking easy word: "PROGRESSIVE"? This bus company is worse than Green Acres.
A few other no-go incidents happened. Like being stuck forever in clogged up aisles for no reason. Huh! I went to get my prescriptions and this older guy went on chatting and chatting with his customer while I OBVIOUSLY waited. They never picked things up for me. When it was FINALLY my turn, the guy asked how I was and I said, "IN A HURRY!" Fucking lard-heads. So, he nicely tried to move along in a rapid pace, lol, but of course consequently fucked up the computer system, and I ended up waiting another 5 minutes. I was lucky to be able to grab a few things at the supermarket and catch my bus, but I NEVER had the chance to do the shopping I needed to do!
I go to Menards. I try to return two items. The lady tells me that one item is not on the receipt, so it never goes through. (After I get home, I find out that it IS IN FACT on the receipt). I check out my stuff with this cute but beaker-nosed girl, (think Zoe Kazar x2), and I turn around an say, "Thank you," as I leave. She is stuck on me, sadly, and says, "Have a nice .. goodbye!" for which she will stupidly kick herself all night. People!
I go to Walmart. Rushing around. Not able to do everything, since ability to shop at other stores was curtailed. One check-out aisle opens up. It is a young tall girl with long, platinum blond hair. She is cute in a geeky dorky nerdy wonky way. But, I am in such a hurry to catch my bus. And she must wait for an older person to come and check out my wine. I ask her to check out the Link-card stuff first, but no, she wants to wait. And waiting for the wine checker is forever - I am already getting up to 10-minutes late! For this stupid-ass bus company.
The girl is there like, oh, maybe we can talk, and I am like, "let's fucking go!" She can't drink wine, so why should I care about chatting with her? She's basically stand-offish anyway. All she's got is that long blonde hair - just like that other girl at the other supermarket. For some reason, the idea around here is that long blonde hair is the bestest thing ever and rules all men!
So, I'm not going to talk to her cuz I am full of fatigue. But, as the relief cashier comes in, she asks for some time off - a break. Now, I could have stepped in there, like, "Hey baby, wanna go over there and get a gluten-free pizza?" But, I am rushed, crushed, and such. I had every right to go on with my business, especially since they had cost me 5 minutes. And what does this underaged blonde girl do, making it personal? She gives me a big cold YAWN right into my face - to prove: "I was never interested in you in the first place, because I have long flowing platinum blonde hair, yet look like a dork in every other way!"
The point? If you live in a big city, you know what my point is. This bullshit eats up time we need to get business done! But, I am not a Wall-Street investor, etc. I am at the lower ends of the economic ladder. And I will have to write more about this in another post, bye.
PS - There has been a study that showed that people tend to avoid homeless people because when they are in a rush, which is kind of a no-brainer. But the stress of time-demands prevents people from tapping into their humanity and compassion, because they are flipped into survival mode which, I guess, is kinda like being a cell-phone zombie. Stress under time-demands was something I wrote about in college, when it was a fairly new subject. Anyway, under time-demands, people are less mindful. It is almost a perfect correlation: mindfulness is the opposite of being in a hurry. And the point here is that this post meant to, among other things, contrast how THIS country forces people to be in a rush, and so be less compassionate and mindful, and so less Buddhist. Just look at the sad slums of India. What a contrast.
But, after a good bathing, my hair frizzies out from under my baseball hat, and I look like Bozo. I have tried everything. Today: coconut oil, sea-salt water, cream rinse and styling lotions - and hairspray. Nope. The wind undoes everything I try. Oh well. In my tan tank top and shorts, I attracted a lot of girls anyway, somehow. And do you know what this means? Well, because women always forsage the future, this means that we are headed into some new hippie kind of era, where men are free and rebellious and kissy kissy, and so on.
Last night, I watched the movie, "Slumdog Millionaire," again. All of you should see this movie, if you believe that, "Wisdom is the retention of innocence through adversity." Damn, I loved the Indian dance at the wonderful end, as well as all the music, and so on. This sexy, well-done movie is more than an expert puller of heart-strings, and purveyour of childish wonder, and violence. It is more than a corporate money-maker, coming up with all sorts of pop formulae to pull the people in, with little tricks of coincidence, and ultimate appeals to religious belief.
This movie is a mystical representation of the universe, in its vast magic, which can either be seen, or unseen, depending on choice. Depending on moral decisions. It is the universe in miniature - an awkward little model - the prayer of a few men and women up to some more profound movie, infinite in its scope. Through all the poverty and hunger and violence, meaning emerges. The accidents that happen are not just coincidences, but natural gifts of the Origami Universe itself. This is how the meaningful dynamic of LIFE is created.
And, when one brother wins, "the lottery," by all the accidental wit that honesty has given him, the other brother dies in a shoot-out, yet glad for his brother, and wondering aloud, "God is great!"
This kind of god is great. This kind of coming together of accident and irony, that we should go on, rejoicing in life - and dancing! How could it be any other way? This was an absolutely fantastic movie in every way!
Of course, there are disagreements about this or that, but what are you going to do, shut every damn thing down because it does not meet every moral apprehension? For example, critics complained that this movie was a constant, 100% free product-placement for the Indian TV show, "Do You Want To Be A Millionaire?!" But, what else is anyone going to do? Pretend that the TV show doesn't exist, and so never write such an amazing movie? Some critics are overrated and overpaid. They should start off being janitors.
Sure, the movie gave a slanted view of the slums and their people, in India. But, along with other movies, like, "City of God," and, "Lion," add them together and a fuller picture is given - and viewers are actually able to figure things out for themselves. This is what progress means. It means starting off with crap. And then working with better and better tools, with better and better results. I don't know any true progressive who cannot look back on the past and its urgencies and emergencies, without fondness and compassion. If only so many of today's Dems would do so, we would be in a far better place right now.
As I walked through Menards, a young Indian girl seemed intent on staring at me as she passed. Therefore, so did her younger sister. Not many Indians around here. They were like the ONE family. That's cool, because my empathy for Indian children was heightened the night before, and this was probably the only encounter of the day that said the slightest, "meaning."
Before you liberal Puritans step in to spoil all this by accusing me of pedophilia, because I looked at a kid with meaning, let me remind you that they are selling away 10 year old girls to marriage over there. That's a far cry from me looking at a kid with meaning. And get this, America! Yesterday, I watched an old movie about Will Rogers, (a Cherokee), which was great, except for his lifeless jokes. One of his jokes was this:
"An 86 year old member of our community wanted to marry a 16 year old girl. We all advised him against this. 'What about when you get older, say 96?' 'Well,' he said, 'When I'm 96 I'll just dump her for another 16-year-old!'"
Bwa - ha ha ha ha ha!!! God bless America.
Anyway, Indian girls of any age tend to find me attractive, and that is one of the few things I like about being me. It tells me that they are keying into something deep that I have always been about - or, at least I'd like to think. But, after all my love of Indian music, of George Harrison, of Buddhism and Hinduism, of the echoes in Celtic music, of my past Indian friends, of my love of "imperialist" Kipling - and wasn't George Orwell raised in India??? - idk - I just have a deep fondness that here is the birthplace of Indo-European languages, and it ends up with a lot of modern English language and culture superimposed on it, despite an ever-percolating human starkness even worse than that of Mexico.
After all this, because of it, I like to get eyed by Indian girls. They are the only girls who could convince me to never get silicon gel implants. And, they don't even care if I don't collect a harem, like those damn terrorists do, lol.
Both times I finished viewing this movie, btw, what was playing on NPR's, "Echoes," but some amazing electronic Indian music?! India is up and coming, and scary and sad and tragically human. Decades ago, I was thinking that the USA need to allign itself more with India and Australia, economically and politically. Soon, India will have more people than any other country on Earth. What - 1.5 billion or whatever...
Where do we put all this surfeit population? Oh, I do so hope the computers will solve this problem for us, uh huh.
If you can't recognise that severe and revolutionary times are coming in our lifetime, then you are a pimple waiting to be popped.
Soooo... The theme turns to how my inviolate hair somehow waved down countless females today, which it did. Plus the deceptively healthy-looking demeanour of my framage. I won't bore you with the illustrious details.
Now, we turn to how the entire country is conspiring to prevent any kind of flowing-hair revolution. In fact, it may not have so much to do with flowing hair, but it hits at the very essence!
So, the story is like this... How many ways can a person be fucked with in this country, in the normal course of a day, in order to put him back into his supposedly capitalist yet completely dysfunctional way?
I have CFS because I went beyond the call of duty for one, possibly two, people in my life. I never understood that I was positting Catholic ideals in a petty PROTESTING country. I was undone by all this, in every possible way - health, social, romance, legal, sanity, and so forth, fritter and fretter. I lost all, over all. When all was said and done, I moved to this godforsaken town, to save money. The petty assaults have been interminable. Never-ending.
Lately, this guy starts mowing into THIS property, cuz he have a big machine. Stupid fucking male have a big machine. Don't even know how to fucking mow. Mows too short - kills the grass and brings in weeds. Mows after rains - clogs up machine, wastes gas, leads to rust. Doesn't this remind you of the people mounding mulch around their trees, only to end up stupidly killing those trees? That is because the idiocy is everywhere rampant. Not only this - it gets PAID to prevail.
I look at the plant and animal kingdoms, suffering this, and I feel such great sorrow and shame.
So - here is this guy downstairs, forever trying to mess with me. Last night, he produced something to wake me up at 2:am. This was followed a minute later with some BANG. So, I knew that the reason I was awakened was because of his nonsense. I never went back to sleep, and then let my dog out at 4:30am. As has happened so many, many time before, this guy turns his living-room light on and off to intimidate me, the coward that he is. It's disgustingly pathetic. (Today, I sent an email to my LL, slightly about this, but more about garden issues).
So, this disrupts my circadian rhythm, which affects CFS severely. (As he probably knows, I am sure).
I continue to keep to my plans. But, I am so ill, I am following behind my expected schedule. So, I call the bus company, which already had terrible service to begin with. I ask if I can move my pick-up times up by 1/2 hour. This is something that can be and is done, often. But this new girl refuses, and hangs up on me - or she sets me on hold infinitely. So I call back, and she acts like she already gave me an answer of, "No," which she never did. So, you see, my sitting on hold forever, and my being refused by this meat-head, amounted to what? It amounted to me being even LATER, meaning possible problems for their drivers in the future.
Why can't people just figure out one fucking easy word: "PROGRESSIVE"? This bus company is worse than Green Acres.
A few other no-go incidents happened. Like being stuck forever in clogged up aisles for no reason. Huh! I went to get my prescriptions and this older guy went on chatting and chatting with his customer while I OBVIOUSLY waited. They never picked things up for me. When it was FINALLY my turn, the guy asked how I was and I said, "IN A HURRY!" Fucking lard-heads. So, he nicely tried to move along in a rapid pace, lol, but of course consequently fucked up the computer system, and I ended up waiting another 5 minutes. I was lucky to be able to grab a few things at the supermarket and catch my bus, but I NEVER had the chance to do the shopping I needed to do!
I go to Menards. I try to return two items. The lady tells me that one item is not on the receipt, so it never goes through. (After I get home, I find out that it IS IN FACT on the receipt). I check out my stuff with this cute but beaker-nosed girl, (think Zoe Kazar x2), and I turn around an say, "Thank you," as I leave. She is stuck on me, sadly, and says, "Have a nice .. goodbye!" for which she will stupidly kick herself all night. People!
I go to Walmart. Rushing around. Not able to do everything, since ability to shop at other stores was curtailed. One check-out aisle opens up. It is a young tall girl with long, platinum blond hair. She is cute in a geeky dorky nerdy wonky way. But, I am in such a hurry to catch my bus. And she must wait for an older person to come and check out my wine. I ask her to check out the Link-card stuff first, but no, she wants to wait. And waiting for the wine checker is forever - I am already getting up to 10-minutes late! For this stupid-ass bus company.
The girl is there like, oh, maybe we can talk, and I am like, "let's fucking go!" She can't drink wine, so why should I care about chatting with her? She's basically stand-offish anyway. All she's got is that long blonde hair - just like that other girl at the other supermarket. For some reason, the idea around here is that long blonde hair is the bestest thing ever and rules all men!
So, I'm not going to talk to her cuz I am full of fatigue. But, as the relief cashier comes in, she asks for some time off - a break. Now, I could have stepped in there, like, "Hey baby, wanna go over there and get a gluten-free pizza?" But, I am rushed, crushed, and such. I had every right to go on with my business, especially since they had cost me 5 minutes. And what does this underaged blonde girl do, making it personal? She gives me a big cold YAWN right into my face - to prove: "I was never interested in you in the first place, because I have long flowing platinum blonde hair, yet look like a dork in every other way!"
The point? If you live in a big city, you know what my point is. This bullshit eats up time we need to get business done! But, I am not a Wall-Street investor, etc. I am at the lower ends of the economic ladder. And I will have to write more about this in another post, bye.
PS - There has been a study that showed that people tend to avoid homeless people because when they are in a rush, which is kind of a no-brainer. But the stress of time-demands prevents people from tapping into their humanity and compassion, because they are flipped into survival mode which, I guess, is kinda like being a cell-phone zombie. Stress under time-demands was something I wrote about in college, when it was a fairly new subject. Anyway, under time-demands, people are less mindful. It is almost a perfect correlation: mindfulness is the opposite of being in a hurry. And the point here is that this post meant to, among other things, contrast how THIS country forces people to be in a rush, and so be less compassionate and mindful, and so less Buddhist. Just look at the sad slums of India. What a contrast.