Keeping my conspiracy theory readers happy…

I get a number of readers who like what I post, a few who allow themselves to be categorised as conspiracy theorists.

Me, I have no conspiracies.  Either the facts tell it like it is or there is no “is” worth writing about.

However, sometimes I skim over user comments and user forums to gauge the mood of people after major news events.

In other words, how does an event act like a pebble in a pond.

Take the following news item, for instance — DEA agents apparently admit laundering money to see how cartels launder money.

Well, the user comments and forum entries filled up quickly about that one.

My favourite:

The government finally admits laundering money to Mexican cartels! Haven’t we said that all along?  The gov’t launders money to the gangs in exchange for the cartels murdering potential immigrants trying to enter the U.S., serving as an unofficial deterrent method because the U.S. can’t get caught murdering people crossing the border from Mexico into the U.S. and the border fence, as we all know, is a joke!  Those are the kind of death squads, not nat’l health insurance committees, that the gov’t is keeping us from knowing about.

Interesting idea, I guess.  We don’t need missile defense shields against a country that is barely under the control of a central government, let alone capable of launching missiles across the southern border of the U.S.  Save the missile defense systems for real threats elsewhere.

Enough about conspiracy theories, readers.  Let’s move on to a different view of the future, one where facts are projections, not conjectures.

In the Court of World Law news…

The Court of World Law ruled earlier today that an election may be declared null and void, and the resultant government/office/position closed or disbanded, if the percentage of eligible voters who voted during an election falls below a threshold to be determined by a lower court ruling to be issued later today.

More as it develops…

If not now, when? If not the ECB/IMF, who?

[Personal notes – feel free to skip or ignore this blog entry]

TLA – three letter acronyms.

The redbud tree is nearly denuded of seed pods, thanks to weather, birds and squirrels.

Two women jog down the road, one pushing a baby stroller.

An automobile speeds past, the driver disobeying speed limit signs posted in the neighbourhood.

The aquarium water filter/circulator gurgles, a gear out of gear, gushing few bubbles into the flow.

Some data points stare at me from the Internet browser software tabs:

We live in the “I cannot” mode or the “I can” mode at any time.

We think simultaneously in both.

Raccoons chase one another in the attic space above our living room and bedroom, attracting the cats’ attention.

As my brother in-law noted, there is a certain thrill in the hunt, lying low, waiting for the prey to wander by, adrenaline pumping through your body.

But there is no thrill in killing raccoons that’ve chewed holes in the house eaves.  They are not worthy prey when they are frolicking on top of fiberglass insulation or wandering outside to eat.

I share this house with my wife, two cats, spiders, crickets, lizards, bees, wasps, birds, raccoons, chipmunks, snakes, mice and other living things (dust mites, bacteria, algae, fungi, lichen, tropical plants).

Most of us, in pure classification terms only, are eukaryotes (a word I did not learn in childhood science classes).  In pure numbers, most of us are invisible eukaryotes, with some prokaryotes around, to keep us on our toes, so to speak (for a description of alternate lifeform classifications, see Domain, once again).

But I digress.

A bicyclist passes by, followed by two trucks, one labeled “XFinity” and the other “Comcast.”

A few birds flit past, presumably to check if birdfeeders in the backyard were filled in the last few days (answer: no).

I, this set of states of energy, float within the comfortable confines of my ecosystem, a subculture, rarely threatened with external, immediate forms of death.

Sure, a plane could crash into the house, or a tornado whip through the yard during the next major weather disturbance, but the chances of either one happening are close enough to zero to allow me to ignore them.  There is absolutely no chance of a driveby shooting or being kidnapped by spies in my life, meaning I need not be paranoid or feed the paranoid needs of others to be wanted/desired/meaningful, no matter now negative their paranoid needs may be.

Thus, I conclude, I exist within the “I can” mode most of the time.

What can I do?

I can build verbal trails, evidenced here, that are structured within a framework of satire and sarcasm, layering a thick molasses-like glue through and through, slowing down the progress from understood word meaning to misconstrued phrase, in order to deflect incoming signals, stimuli, like the funhouse mirror I’ve always been.

There are, of course, the narrative constructs of the Committee and the Book of the Future to place within a time-based structure.

What is real or not real is unimportant to me.

Reality is no better a term to use than to say (to an imaginary extraterrestrial alien), all lifeforms on Earth are exactly like the first one you found, Methanocaldococcus jannaschii.

Perception is reality, just as religion is reality to many and atheism is reality to some.

Was the EU your idea or the invention of a person with a bureaucratically political mindset (can there be politics without bureaucracy (or bourgeoisie, for that matter))?

Can a superculture, much like the UN, but much, much more than that (yes, Star Trek fans, you may think of the Federation of Planets; no, Star Wars fans, there will be no Galactic Empire), arise and absorb the political entities we now call countries while still holding allegiance to the power/voice of the people?

In other words, when do we directly vote for representatives of the supercultural administrative bureaucracy?

When do we say Earth is the first member of the Solar System network of colonies?

Should the EU members lead the way and declare themselves members of the UE (United Earth), rearranging financial categorisation of political entities accordingly, eliminating the [old] geographical boundary method of identification?

You can guess what the combined future prediction algorithms of all subcultures processed through the network of supercomputers have said in the Book of the Future, can’t you?

Time is irrelevant.  Power shifts are inevitable.  The truth is what you make it out to be.

The clock, not my stomach, tells me to eat food for lunch – that says a lot right there, doesn’t it?

Too Crass for Top Brass Knuckles

Someone told me Ol’ Peg Leg himself, Alex Trebek, was back at work, hobbling across TV theatre stages, but without his trusty parrot, Repeatedly, on his shoulder.

Canada should be proud, I’m sure, I imagine, possibly.

The Rod Gilmore Fan Club has issued its own set of paper dolls for him.  I’m not sure what sartorial eloquence means but apparently his fans’ imaginations are wilder than a sports network’s ability to verify its morgue of information that clashes with its desire to become ever more profitable and pervasive (or should I say evasive?).

A rumour has it that Barney Frank will, as a last-ditch Congressional effort, launch an investigation into a sports network’s archives, in order to preserve journalism’s purity of investigative pursuit rather than pursuit of of the profit motive.

Like Jason Bateman’s observation of his mother’s maid, who carted furs to a storage unit that happened to catch on fire at an inconvenient time, the right Honourable Frank is alleged to have spies watching a sports network’s pages shredding and burning pages (but how do you shred and burn emails and voicemails?  Hmm…) to preserve the appearance of innocence after the fact.

Flood a hard disk factory and watch the roaches come squirming out, looking for a bit of dry land and a byte to eat.

The title of this blog entry was going to be “It’s Raining, It’s Snowing, the Governor is Blowing,” but bygones are Bygones, a species of creature so vile that those who cough up bile because their gall bladders have no gall (mainly, the Gauls who are galling) can just barely feel what it’s like to have Bygone Days (a symptom dissimilar to migraine headaches) when Bygones, smaller than a speck of dust, are squirted into the air as soon as a person innocently, ignorantly picks up an item discarded by the person in front or beside, relieving the high-pressure of Bygone capsules, kinda like stepping on puff mushrooms or overstuffed ship containers exploding on the high seas.

This week, we cast aside appearances to the contrary and visit the Contrarian, an agrarian, not a librarian, with a brain so huge (in comparison to a flea’s) that autism is a natural state, rather than the exception to the norm.  Speaking of which… Hey, Norm!

[Can you imagine being completely mental yet everyone you know and, most especially, those you don’t, call you Norm?  Par for the coarse sandpaper, eh, you say?]

Have you ever been booed?  Do you understand when your popularity was an illusion fostered by intimidation rather than admiration?

And lastly, don’t you love being part of the so-called One Percenters, with Ninety-Nine Luftballoons causing the next great war…sorry, with the remaining 99 percent of your species simply pawns doing your bidding — buying trinkets they don’t need, exchanging objects with planned obsolescence during a commercial orgy of a holiday — all for your profitable and viewing pleasure?

Ahhh-h-h-h-h…if one must be a particular set of states of energy, let it be this one, water dripping from the gutter and snow falling in the air on a late November day, with fellow citizens helping you pay your alleged tax burden and paying homage to civil [dis]obedience, where the military cannot hold you indefinitely outside of the protective, and nearly universal, laws of your land, where the current popular occupation, a member of Occupy [your locale], relives the Revival spirit of religious-toned gatherings and camp meetings of centuries past.

You know, the Bygone days, a golden era when everyone got itchy and excited due to Bygone infestations, wanting to jump and shout in unison with others, turning to the alpha members of the group, the leaders (often the driven or wannabe members of the One Percenters), to interpret the purpose of their feelings toward their medical afflictions and infections.

[Yes, this should have been called “Ode to a Bygone” but who’d’ve read it?]

Do you wonder about our fascination with the Roman god of war and agriculture, Mars?

When your descendants settle on the planet Mars, will they construct a monument to the mythological deity as a token of thanks for giving them a new home place to sprawl out upon?

After all, we’re prone to building edifices, one of the strange habits of our species.

In your locale, are there more monuments to peace or war?  Is every edifice — skyscrapers, museums, or schools, for instance — a monument?  Will the Arab Spring and Occupy movements have their own monuments one day?

=v=v=

Thanks to Dr. Brooke Uptagrafft, Dr. Karen Lamb and many more, such as Shelby at K-Mart, Ben at Zaxby’s, and Buddy’s BBQ.

Take nothing for granted, granite included

If I knew that our solar system was packed with living things (at least in the way we choose to define the term “living”), would I feel as compelled as I do to encourage us to devote xx.xx% of our resources toward populating the cosmos with living things from Earth?

The WordPress front page displayed a link to a blog entry titled, “Off the Couch and Into the Streets.”  Rarely do I feel compelled to comment on a blog entry but I added one to Coleen’s:

Your blog entry popped up on the front page of WordPress, and the title “Off the couch and into the streets” caught my attention because I’m looking for a fun way to lose some extra weight. Thus, my expectations were different than you might have expected when you wrote this blog entry.

The Occupy [your locale] movement, Arab Spring, and any/all protestations against the common/established social structure are perennial, which usually fall under the label “counterculture.” I encourage you to feel and act differently, supporting your subcultural beliefs no matter how much you may feel crushed/oppressed by the common culture under which you live and socialise.

Having grown up during the 1960s global counterculture movement, my perspective, as a child at the tailend of the Baby Boomer generation, has taught and continues to teach me that those who protest will encourage others to act in less obvious, newsworthy manners, to effect longterm change.

I’m glad you have a job which gave you the flexibility and courage to join those who wanted to voice their displeasure with the current state of our common culture [one] day on the streets of Denver. Hopefully, through your job and with your friends, you can be the change you want to see today and into the future.

How do we express ourselves daily?  In other words, do we carefully consider the words we use in social exchanges?

Saying I am the “99%” or I am the “1%” or any other label automatically establishes an artificial barrier.

Reminds me of taking the Myers-Briggs personality profile test as a requirement of working in a certain department at a company full of a variety of personality types, including conformists and nonconformists.  After taking the test and, with another person who had gotten the same personality profile, saying that the test results were bogus, was informed that those who received that particular personality profile were prone to say the test results were bogus.

I feel the same way about the Occupy movement.  The participants brag about how diverse and unlabelable they are — yet, they quickly chant about the “99%” and the “1%” without blinking a self-conscious inner eye.

Another commenter said, “It’s like telling a child “You just like to argue” and the child keeps saying “Nuh uh!”.”  The same goes for those who are being labeled by the diverse Occupy movement participants.

To be frank, when I hear the Occupy movement chants through mass media soundbites, all I can think is, “Well, what if I’m one of the 1%?  So what?  Didn’t I earn my place in this financial position by saving (using the old adage of “pay yourself first”) and spending wisely?  Sure, some of my Nike shoes or my wife’s Kathy Lee Gifford designer clothes were made using kids paid ‘slave wages’ but I stopped buying those items after I found out about their manufacturing sources.  The University of Oregon and Stanford University, home to some students who have protested, didn’t refuse Phil Knight’s donations nor did the students refuse to attend those universities.  Regis Philbin, a person apparently beloved by many, didn’t stop being Kathy Lee Gifford’s friend.  I don’t have all the time in the world to investigate the raw material source and manufacturing location of every item I buy but will make reasonable changes when I find out.  Some parts of me are just as susceptible to instant gratification and buyer remorse as anyone else in the 1% or 99% (i.e., all seven billion of us).”

That’s why using or not using labels is important to me.  Also why I lump us all together into the label of “seven billion of us.”  We’re in this thing as one.  One planet, one global infrastructure, one solar ecosystem.

How do we train ourselves and one another to seek rewarding goals that limit destructive and detrimental effects on others, regardless of our entrenched differences?

This time of year, I look out the window and bare trees expose the view of row after row of shingled suburban rooftops.

The mortgage on my house has been paid off.  The majority of mortgages for the rooftops out there are probably still being paid for.

Shall I blame or thank the finance/banking industry for suburban sprawl that makes my skin crawl?

Shall I adjust my view to show myself the people occupying those suburban boxes are paying taxes that support the roads that allow me to drive to unoccupied parks and forests set aside for my enjoyment via local/state/national proclamation and financial support?

If, as one person said, the rich have enough money to pay for half the population to control/kill the other half, where does that put me?

Well, I know where it puts where I want to be.  I want to be one of the rich and when I get there, I don’t want to have to redistribute my wealth unnecessarily.  I admit I like having the total population of my species at my control.  I want to be Phil Knight and say, “Yeah, so what if my products have been made in sweat shops?  My personally-directed donations are creating a whole new crop of those who will rule from the top”.  If I’m going to be labeled as part of the 1%, I want to be Bill Gates, Carlos Slim, Pierre Omidyar or Vladimir Putin, not a homeless person as part of the poorest 1%.

Tiny leaves float through the air outside the window.  A woodpecker hops up and down tree limbs, presumably looking for hidden insects to munch upon.

Both public and private money has given me the time to sit here and make these comments.  It’ll take 100% of us to improve our conditions, if we so choose.

Yes, our global economy is not perfect and never will be perfect.  It displays characteristics of both an open and a closed-loop system, subject to the advantages and disadvantages of each.

Can we show how unselfish we are and share our wealth, of knowledge and financial gains, accordingly, while some of us compete against each other in the chess game of life to make things better for our descendants?

Live happily in the fact that today’s 1% will not be tomorrow’s 1% nor will today’s 99% be tomorrow’s.

If you don’t like what’s going on, take the opportunity to change it.  If you don’t like accumulating massive debt to pay for a college education, find a company that’ll hire you for your current skills/talents despite the lack of a diploma.  I did.  But I eventually got around to completing a bachelor’s degree just to prove I can (and got my company to foot the bill – hey, I wasn’t born yesterday – which set me up for a career ladder promotion that wasn’t interesting to me, but that’s another story).

Nothing is set in stone, except perhaps your date of death, and even that fades with time and exposure to the elements.

Think the members of the U.S. Congress who sit on a supercommittee can cut over $1T from the U.S. government budget and make everyone happy?  Wanna make a bet?

If it was me, I’d spread the cuts proportionally to those who are expected NOT to vote in the next election.  Hey, it’s only fair, is it not?  The U.S. is a democratic republic where lawful citizens have the right to participate in electing legislative, executive and some judicial representatives.  Those who choose not to participate, or vote, get less of the government pie to eat – isn’t that one of the tales we learned in kindergarten?

We’ll see what we see when the time comes…

Comments in your spam queue

As I settle back down, calm in the knowledge that my mother in-law is no more, I can clear my thoughts and look at the future again.

My network of hackers, business associates, colleagues, and the generally curious are ready for the supercomputer’s next predictions and the Book of the Future’s look back at this time period from a thousand years later.

One colleague wants my assessment of today’s gender/race relations in view of the far[fetched] future.

In some cases, it’s best to look at life from the perspective of smaller units – states of energy – rather than from artificial constructs upon which we perpetuate myths that feed and feed on themselves.

You know, labels.

I am repeating myself again, aren’t I?

Time to let social metaphors flow off me like oily Gulf of Mexico water off a drowning duck’s back.

Sinking, sinking, sinking…meditating…shedding current myths and [sub]urban legends.

Past the readily-available jokes, puns and punchlines that pop up like weeds all over my thought trails.

Does the myth that we descended from hunter-gatherers still hold up?

What is the difference between a person who has to have a unified theory of everything and a person who can live with conflicting theories?

With Berlusconi gone and Assad not too far behind, where will we get the money we need to build off-world way stations on our way into and out of the solar system?

What if someone like Spencer Bacchus had enough voters like him to keep him in office, despite national group efforts to oust him?  When is politics truly local or not?  Does a member of Congress have the right to exercise the freedom to trade on the open stock market, despite negative connotations/appearances?

What is freedom of the individual person and how does it compare to character assassination in the news?

Which is worse to you, the business group trying to badmouth government leaders or government leaders trying to badmouth the business group?

Can we lump the whole mess – business groups and government leaders – into a giant, stinking pile and agree that if it looks like a giant, stinking pile and smells like a giant, stinking pile, then it must be a giant, stinking pile?

Some days, if I could eliminate all seven billion of us and let Earth pick up the pieces, I would.

Instead, I’m determined to find a way for all of us, regardless of perceived social rank/hierarchy, to matter in the course of Earth’s historic move to push life into the cosmos.

In the near term, our species is Earth’s best hope to accomplish that task, despite our many shortcomings.

But first, the small matter of a so-called supercommittee that’s about as useful in cleaning up government waste as letting hungry foxes guard the proverbial henhouse.

Proverbial?  Perhaps?

Let the future begin.

Sprinkles and Showers

While MPs and other elected members of political entities take advantage of insider news to line their pockets with all that does and does not glitter like gold, a Supercommittee (super as in “constituting a more inclusive category than that specified”*, not as in “great”) contemplates a purpose neither divine nor supporting Divine’s cinematic roles.  More on that later today.

Meanwhile, a jazzlike rendition of Haydn’s Piano Trio XV:28 in E Major: Allegretto sets the tone, a la the style of Claude Bolling and Jean-Pierre Rampal.