Steppin’ Razor

Dripping gutter drumming out a reggae beat.

Wondering why it takes so long to train one species to see clearly.

‘Tis what is – no need to worry.  Everything is gonna be all right.

A word of remembrance to Don Hill, pillar of his community and of his time.

Do we know the impact our outreach makes on those we never meet again?

In Gettysburg, “the enemy was defeated here.”  Defunct golf courses are put to rest.

Do you see strange bumps and places on your body/face that happen to coincide with tiny particles of radioactive material blowing across the globe?

What if we produced for you a conservative, compassionate, female U.S. presidential candidate who is one-third European*, one-third Native American* and one third Hispanic*?

[*Exact location of genetic heritage to be decided by polling and popular vote]

Would you accept a genetically-arranged test tube baby trained to understand all aspects of life, from haute couture to subsistence farming, who exhibits the perfect traits of a humble yet politically-savvy candidacy and will ensure that 7+ billion of us are given equal opportunities to succeed, however we wish to define the pinnacle of success for our capabilities, without taking from the selfish haves to feed the selfish have-nots?

What if we figured out a way to turn every member of the species into a caring, socially-aware, fully-assimilated being?

Well, let’s wake up from that dreamy scenario and look at real life.

Let’s look into vehicles with blacked-out windows.  Let’s examine the contents of rental trucks.

Let’s see what’s really going on.

And have fun in the process.

This blog entry brought to you by members of the Subcommittee On Compliance, Kickbacks, Irrigation, Toxicity, Terraforming, Oncology, Mememaking and Entertainment (SOCKITTOME).  “Iliad Dusk” just didn’t sound right.

Now, back to the game currently in progress.

How clean is clean?

In this ongoing radiation exposure crisis, I ask myself what else is there that I don’t know I’m exposing myself to.

A friend reminded me of a product he prefers and the product’s company in which he has invested:

Hygenall

Do we know the effect of various states of energy – chemical, metal, mineral – on ours?

“Laboratory tests have shown…”

Do you travel a lot and don’t want gun range practice residue to trigger the airport security people to tag you as a security risk?

Sometimes, safety and cleanliness are matters of personal, private habits.

Toxicity is a matter of care and concern about yourself and your family.

I am not an investor in Hygenall so I feel comfortable mentioning them more than once, without conflicts of interest clouding my judgement.

Will Hygenall remove radioactive material from your skin and clothes?

I don’t know.

Is it worth buying and trying to find out?

An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.

I don’t have an old watch with radioactive hands or an emergency exit sign with radioactive material to scrape off and sprinkle on my skin.  If I did, a simple wipe with Hygenall might help me prevent longterm exposure to cell damage.

An interesting experiment to consider…

Time for some heavy metal music to take us into the smooth part of the day.

Meanwhile, in the lab we call Earth

The Committee gave me permission to reveal part of the grand plan for our planetary ecosystem.

As you know, many of the so-called species exhibit a style of behaviour we call socialism (the social kind, not the political kind, and not necessarily social kindness, either).

In order to complete the assignment, the only true function, of the Committee – its raison d’être and joie de vivre wrapped up into one,  if you will – we have decided to show what should be perfectly obvious to you by now.

Throughout history, we have attempted to turn the planet into a superhuman.

Civilisation after civilisation, we have encouraged the development of roads and speedy communications systems to emulate a superset of thoughts flowing over the set of thoughts of individuals like you and me.

With time, we will succeed.

Regardless of the success of the current version of a global village, we are learning much.

For instance, we have very nearly completed the construction of the electrical wiring and automatic functions that serve as a virtual brain stem.

Some rudimentary memory and emotional systems are in the works.

However, based on projections for environmental reconfiguration* that our neutral scientists on retainer provided for a lifetime supply of sponge cakes, we aren’t positively sure that we’ll complete the planet-as-superhuman-model in the next few hundred years before we run of the resources we’ve dedicated to the latest version (in other words, we let you determine the construction method while we provide a general guiding hand).

[*we highly recommend that you refrain from thinking in terms of “global warming” or “climate change,” because it’s much more complicated than a few soundbites or catchphrases; speaking of which, is the APstylebook even necessary anymore?  Doesn’t anything go in this multicultural symphony of phonemes, phonies and mobl fon txtrs?]

Now, can you see how important you are as a node within a node within a node?

One friend of mine still thinks that it’s aliens that are controlling us like little robots doing their bidding.  He has built up a whole series of theories that constitute a personal religion to him.

I give him his freedom to believe what he wishes, as long as he doesn’t decide to dissect me to look for the microcontroller that’s embedded in my brain and has tentacles than run throughout my body (yes, you can see how he’s influenced by movies (“MIB,” “ID4,” etc.) to believe that the brain and nervous system are actual parts of an alien-based controlling subsystem).

My job, while exposing the fraudulent detractors, is to keep you focused on the big picture.  The NDA prevents me from shouting out everything I know but don’t know how to describe all at once (or simply don’t know how to describe).

I’ll keep trying.

I’ve shown you how easy it is to rile some of you up, throw out the bait and set the hook to capture your undivided attention.

Let’s get busy.  We have the opportunity to do this right (even if there’s no right answer).

Billions of us will die before it’s all said and done but that’s the way it’s always been – don’t know why I get upset knowing so few of us will live to complete the current assignment, which may still take several iterations of global civilisation re/construction.

I have my specific assignment to complete, also, putting many of you to use without your knowledge.  Don’t worry – you’ll get credit.

Just like LaTonya at the main Red Cross office who arranged my apheresis appointment so I can save lives of people I’ll probably never know or meet.

Or Jennifer Garner, who hired a band to entertain behind-the-scenes workers like my former schoolmate, Toby Sells, FX artiste.

Or Brett Frasier, who is supporting the global war on terrorism from “behind the fence,” as they say.

Or the people on both sides of the major line of disagreement in Libya – you have families to raise and tell your reasons for resisting the other side – your arguments are valid but only one major storyline will be written in the history books about your sacrifice.

Chemistry of the Chimera

First cross-reference of the day.

Have you ever watched the slow progress of skin cancer and you’re not telling anyone because you want to see what skin cancer is all about, taking the risk of metastasising states of energy taking over the rest of your so-called body?

Did your spouse die on your watch and now you’re trying to convince your spouse’s mother to move in with you but she’s hesitant because everything about you – you, your house, your lifestyle, your town (maybe even your own children (i.e., her grandchildren, except for her nonblood relations, a grandson in-law and son in-law)) – reminds her of her dead child and she’s too old/frail to have/want to relive those memories, including an upcoming wedding that to her will dredge up the old memories again?  Are you willing to face those facts and let sleeping dogs lie?

Have you realised your joyous anticipation of your spouse’s out-of-town business trips is telling you something you’re trying not to think about?

Do you save an organisation for your own enjoyment by getting rid of people in the organisation who are opposed to you and/or your subcultural icons?  Or do you throw the baby out with the bath water and move on to some other form of enjoyment that your subculture has created for you, even if it’s not exactly what you want?

Am I afraid to speak to myself in specific terms here because, although I know no one reads these words, it feels like others misinterpret what I say for their personal agendum/agenda that conflict with the big picture that I and the Committee are painting?

I volunteered to take on the job of sacrificing billions of my kind for something that has an infinitesimal chance of success and which none of us will know if we succeeded.

I also know that when you start destroying whole subcultures for the sake of the culture, you create a subclass of anarchic saboteurs who may or may not get funding from out-of-favour aristocrats wanting to force their agenda back into the limelight.

I realise that some of those on the Committee are the very same aristocrats who fought their way back into a position of power, thinking they’re getting what they want, and me knowing that they’ll ultimately fail, so we throw them a lot of high-profit business their way that has no strong effect on the big picture (although it does drag its progress back in time slightly) and keeps them preoccupied with fanning their vanity.

I once believed a Committee membership was a position of purity and sanctity.  I strived to cleanse the main path of my thoughts of signposts pointing to side trails I took to entertain myself.  That way, I would be fully focused on my Committee membership and nothing else.

As if the Committee was composed of godlike beings, not another person like me who is full of conflicting wants and needs.

I don’t crave power.  I have one simple want and need – freedom for freedom’s sake alone.

Along the way, my domesticated, caged states of energy hypnotised themselves into believing freedom is real.

It’s all relative, I suppose.

The “I” that doesn’t exist fooled itself into existence and now is struggling to free itself from staring at its false sense of self in the vanity mirror.

2011 is a tough year, indeed.  So many more millions of people to let die or kill for a purpose I can’t guarantee myself is worth the cost.

Billions in the longterm.

If you only knew what was really going on.

The rest of the Committee laughs whenever they hear me struggle to explain to you the unexplainable, the ultimate nondisclosure agreement.

Giving me the leadership of the Committee was a cruel joke.

I wish I could share the punchline with you – it’s the funniest one you’ll ever hear, making anything else that seems humourous impale your comparisons.