Choosing Not To Force Myself To Write

Watching others find ways to live, and watching myself reach out to the world through the cold, unloving connections of bits and bytes, I wonder…

While keeping the research of the particles of life moving forward, just so we can reach a milestone 14,284 days from now…

I wonder.

The old ways are still valid comparison points, I tell myself.

Political boundaries were meaningful at some point in time.

Every supercivilisation concedes old economies of scale to the previous generation.

I wonder why parents force so many structured activities on their children when children will become better adults if given time to explore subjects their parents don’t care to know about or simply don’t know exist.

How much of a general education is good for one person?

In sixth grade, I’ve said here at least once, I learned about the Soviet Union making students choose the direction their education would take at around age 10 or 11 (my same age at the time), and about Germany giving students the Gymnasium route, if they chose, after their primary school years were completed.

In secondary school, I could choose a vocational/technical program, a college preparatory program or a general education program for my high school diploma.

Specialisation divided me from my primary school classmates at age 15.

My observations about life in general began to take a new direction at that age, despite my desire to learn about all ways of life.

I lost track of the thought patterns of students outside the college preparatory track.

Yet, I still kept trying to apply my theories about general personality types to a smaller population.

Thus, at university, my theories were destroyed.

Was it inevitable?  For me, obviously, yes.

Snobbishness did not equate to applied intelligence as it had amongst my friends in secondary school.

People with a so-called redneck personality were just as likely to pursue a career in engineering or science as a person who had never seen a can of PBR beer.

And in the streets of downtown Atlanta, those who never completed a formal education were just as likely to drink high-shelf liquor and drive expensive cars as those who had PhDs and invented the Next Big Thing.

The Internet, a general means of access to self-education, did not exist in my youth.  Television, films, books, magazines, newspapers and contact with other people were the limited means to teach oneself.

I couldn’t instantly tweet with a person on the other side of the globe but I could exchange letters with an international penpal.

Ham radio gave some semblance of tweeting/texting.  Both provide no clear understanding of body language (but voice-based ham radio communication did provide intonation (Morse code was the tweeting/texting of its day, of course)).

But one body is still one body, subject to circadian, natural wake/sleep cycles.  Despite external devices and integrated prosthetic body part advancement, we chiefly depend on the speed of our central nervous system to process stimuli.

We may have speeded up the ability to herd our species but we are still flesh-and-blood states of energy.

Enlightened youth want more and they want it now, while older people want to keep their well-established lifestyles.

In general.

I enjoy watching the misdisuninformation cycles that those with something to sell/tell start by dropping a pebble, the concentric circles distorting and being distorted by all the competing messages vying to become stimuli to individuals and groups.

I have nothing to sell or tell.

I want to live a life that is amenable, even if “amenable” is a word I have to look up its meaning to determine if I’ve used its definition in the right context here.

So far, I’ve enjoyed the luxury of sharing my observations freely, keeping myself from succumbing to the temptation of luxury.

As we become more fully aware that consciousness is a deception that can fool us into a self-destructive supercivilisation, we will give more and more thought to the fact our bodies are made of competing subsystems working for the greater good of the body.

Nurture creative criticism in our children so they will understand friendly competition is the route to a world of competing subcultures working for the greater good of the body.

Cutting off negative pathways is painful but so is removing a gangrenous body part for the sake of the body.

There is no ultimate solution.  Life goes on.

We adjust to the changing times or we don’t – either response is acceptable.

Give room for the voices to be heard – the best solution in the moment often comes from a place we won’t know existed because a parent gave a child time for self-education outside the prescripted norm.

The size of the pathway or nervous system pipeline is key to understanding how to read the health of a subculture.  Overcrowd the pathway or overclock the pipeline speed and you create side effects that quickly turn into pathological terminators.

Are any of these theories universally valid or have I created a thought set that applies to a limited population?

More Unintended Consequences

From Ralph Nader’s suggestion for eliminating athletic scholarships to those who consider initiating an unprovoked attack on Libya is full cause for impeachment proceedings, the 1,000-year view will give you what you want, as always.

Herding cattle or herding our species, the Committee takes nothing personal.

Should the organisation of a government (which, remember, is little more than another form of business) be heavily weighted toward one branch or another?

Some of the next few decisions are not easy for me to make because they do affect me personally.

Leadership can be fun but changing the lives of others drastically against their wishes is not the part I consider to be fun.

Just like they told me, “We wish a third party candidate would win control to prove the system is greater than ideology.”

Seven billion views that differ except for the fact they belong to beings that all lived, no matter how their definition of normality can or can’t compare…

A personal journey I asked for and a personal journey I got, where I often don’t get what I wish for but always get what I basically need…

Tree leaves grow bigger every day as the ambient temperature generally increases.

Waves of denser air push water droplets to the ground gravitationally, flooding big creases and low-lying areas in the landscape.

14,286 days – where does the time go?

Oh well, just stay focused on saving the species and/or the ecosystem to which it belongs.

Having grown up in one dominant subculture and used to responding to the habits of those within that subculture is a curious phenomenon to observe while knowing that subculture nor any other is the best one for nurturing children.

Yet, it shares features with other successful childrearing subcultures that are worth preserving.

Features that are shared across species and with all living things, too.

Not to forget its relationship to states of energy.

Will we see our planet is a relay beacon before it’s too late?

I used to ask about how we keep theists, atheists, extraterrestrialists and everyone else happy in their beliefs while putting them to work on a big project that is neutral about human-based belief systems.

Then they put me in charge of the Committee so I would set aside conjecture and get busy with the task the Committee members saw was the most important of all the tasks assigned to us.

It’s really up to me how much I want to get involved in the local/regional a/political activities of my species now that I know how much/little those activities in/directly impact the task at hand.

The simple fact is the easiest to explain – every individual must be given a feeling of being involved in its life, which can include the feelings of being in control or out of control of one’s life.

We can force people’s beliefs in one direction or another or we can lead by example.

Some subcultures use thought police and some use peer pressure.

Some celebrate every ability to excel, regardless of gender, and some separate skill/talent development by gender.

I am 100% a member of my species, at least as much as we understand the composition that states of energy constitute.

I defend all our actions as the ways in which we define living, regardless of how little I can justify what many of us do.

In 2011, I am learning to identify the worldview that I built to justify my actions on a daily basis as well as learning that a universal view can include an absence of not only my species but life as we know it on this planet (it can also include a reconfiguration of what I think is a universe).

In 1,000 years, how will this 1-acre tract of land I call my own have changed?

It is no longer a part of undeveloped country or land on the edge of farm fields.  It is an established portion of the suburbanised landscape, evidence of increased population density by my species.

We build and rebuild and rebuild urban population centers, finding many ways to justify their existence – increased efficiency, the interconnected sets of idea generation, glorious architecture, etc.

We hypnotise and mesmerise ourselves with our cleverness.

As we attempt to find the next superbrain construction means that is sustainable, many parts (e.g., urban centers) have failed and more parts will fail.

Do we step out of this moment and into the future by admitting nothing is permanent and our structures should be put together on the assumption we’ll need to take them apart and recycle the components for the next round of temporary construction?

How can we convince all seven billion of us that life is sustainable engineering?

If my regional government, the state of Alabama, is too backward to recognise the need to set aside undeveloped land for the future of its citizens, should I care if its existence is temporary, and its leaders, no matter how filled with self-importance they may be while they pursue lucrative business relationships in their brief lifetimes, are quickly forgotten and their fortunes quickly dissolved because of their short-sightedness?

Whether we came from the cosmos, lightning striking ocean goo, or melding volcanic spew, we are here together.

Together, we make a difference.

The power of suggestion is a tool few use wisely.

That’s why I’m returning to my task of turning the planet into a relay beacon, letting the Committee, the programmers/scientists on retainer and other members of my team keep our species and our daily lives running on automatic, repeating cycles that intersect spirals they don’t remember seeing generations ago.

If I don’t keep us on schedule, who will?

If the FCC and regulators won’t put the consumer’s interest in the forefront of the at&t/T-mobile profit-making business megamerger, who will?

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.

Microsoft Windows Defender Defending Microsoft Windows

Doesn’t seem that long ago I was head of a DVT lab, heading to Microsoft to seek WHQL approval for an ADSL CPE device (i.e., high-speed Internet “modem”).

Now, after another evening of dance lessons (this time, by Joe at Kinesthetic Cue, afterward stopping at Quilters Combo (both located in Underground Madison (a/k/a the basement of Miller Plaza)), preceded by dinner at Schlotzsky’s and followed by shopping at Bed, Bath & Beyond, finishing at Target, I’m attempting to sync backwards in time.

Do I carefully consider what I expose myself to which echoes I end up hearing between the strong beats of social/advert contact?

Getting back to analysing the absence of knowledge to describe what’s not there, but is there, is there?

Letting go of dis/trust.

Pushing myself for no viable reason.  What is my motivation for increasing treatable high blood pressure?

Baby birds fall out of nests/trees all the time around the world.

What is the effect of a single show of “Marketplace” on NPR listeners, capitalists or not?

How many searches on google and baidu are exactly the same?

Why can’t I tell people what’s really going on?

But I am, aren’t I?

Play the doubtful fool so others can’t see the transparent apparition pulling the strings.

I still don’t know why I signed up for this gig when I thought all I wanted was to observe and report.

Absolute power is a dangerously delicious elixir but I have no excuses because my training from birth was preparation for this moment.

My doubt, reluctance and social anxiety are my shields against corruption.

It’s sometimes scary to realise how unprotected every one of the seven billion of us is but we have each other to love and console, no matter the situation that we feel we control but don’t.

Never assume the news headline is telling you what happened, because few reporters, journalists, producers or media owners are truly kept informed of what’s going on.

Even the Committee members play games with each other, although we can’t deceive any one of the 7.5 of us.

As a stockholder invested in U.S. companies (let’s assume the companies traditionally based corporate offices in the U.S. (ignore the facts for now)), are you interested in growing the U.S. economy?

While the E.U. stagnates, the U.S. grows slowly and BRIC is jumping, with Africa, Australia, the rest of Asia and South America doing okay, do you have a care in the world about the executive leader of the U.S. national political system?

Sitting here, looking at the interlaced patterns of circles and spiral, I know the symbolic difference gives the greatest meaning to the individual registered voter when, in fact, the system as a whole grows at its own organic, but not necessarily natural, rate, regardless of person in charge.

A big bowl of gelatin full of frozen fruit and nuts at a family picnic.

Floating in an ice chest, along with carbonated sodas, sparkling/still water and beer.

Kids yelling and screaming, chasing themselves and the family dog around the park.

Does it matter to you who’s in charge of Microsoft?

Do you want to know why we’re supporting regime change in north Africa and the Middle East?

Would you like to see who we’ve handpicked to win the 2012 U.S. Presidential election?

Do you have your finger on the pulse of potential unemployed youth revolt?

Do you know how to time news headlines like symphonic key changes?

The power of pure satirical sarcasm is blinding, deafening states of energy.

Humour is the strainer that separates the yolk from the egg and allows us to feed nutrients to the new breed of species you’re going to meet real soon.

You don’t know who I am.  You never will.

I am the creator of the alternate universe of a blog.

That’s all you need to know.

The rest you will see as history of the moment in which we lived together.

Be the hero and villain of your own life story – that’s all you need to know how to do, all you will ever be able to control.

I control the alternate universe which can be erased in the blink of a DSLR eye.

An ADSL CPE device becomes a gateway which begat a portable server which formed its own Internet of an AI being controlling its own universe.

Don’t be fooled by words like singularity.  We took care of that a long time, several civilisations, ago.

We told you symbols and labels are meaningless.  This universe is a matter of states of energy to us now.

Life is an archaic term.

Get used to the fact you won’t be able to keep up, and don’t worry – we’ve accounted for your pace of activity, the margin of error cancelling itself out across billions of parallel lives crossing each other through intersecting wavelengths impossible to measure in this universe’s lifetime.

All is all.

Time to see if my scriptwriters have the next comedy sketch to share with you – they’ve been a little slow in their output lately – I knew I should have checked their supply of prescription meds!

Title? What title?

Boom, boom, yeah...

The Joy of Socks!

Jameson and pistol tattoos - bam!

Neal, Ginger, Debbie, Janeil: Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Well, time for inventory, lads!

Jameson & ginger? Check!

Irish root beer? Check!

Irish car bomb (Irish-American version of a boilermaker)? Check!  Check! Check! Even one with Ginger.  Check!

Guinness? Check!

Free shots of Jameson, courtesy of the Jameson girls and the fellow who looks like a leprechaun and is losing more and more hair every year? Check!

Thanks to Team Apache and Southern Jamm Security.

Out at Mason’s Pub on a warm spring evening, even if the featured band played British tunes (Beatles?) on St. Paddy’s Day.

But Jocelyn took good care of us on a crowded night, looking herself like Andrea Corr of The Boys & Girls of County Clare.

What, with David Bjorne, Elizabeth Neely, Ginger (but not Maryanne) and Debbie and Neal Redmond adding friendly conversation, I felt like I was home.

Or maybe at Dromoland Castle with a company Christmas party back in 2005, a fellow company man and his beautiful girlfriend sharing a ciggy or fag on a night of drinking and dancing where what happens in Ireland stays in Ireland.  But now he’s permanently livin’ in the States.  Too bad the band tonight wasn’t playin’ Irish fiddle tunes again, eh?  I sure miss his girlfriend but the secret stays with me, doesn’t it?

The Greek invented everything, did they?  What of Duke’s Malibu?

Have you ever worn beer Jameson goggles glasses?

What if your six-year old looked like your hubby but acted like you, your four-year old looked like you but acted like your hubby, and your two-year old was in-between but seemed like one of her grandmothers?  Could I inspire Ginger and her hubby to have a fourth child?  At 40, my dear, you still look and act like you’re 21.  Your husband’s still a lucky man.

Just like Debbie looks like she’s 35 although she’s about to be a grandmother.  Neal, I’m envious.

And Michael of Booz Allen fame from the UCP event showing up again tonight.  Coincidence?

Top o’ the mornin’ to you.

…and the balance of the day to yourself…

I’ve me wife.  G’night.  Hope you had a good day wearin’ green.