On Tenacity

 Well, it finally paid off. All those times harping on the same thing and trying different things to get that one result have made the world part ways and allow me to go to school.

 You heard right, good ol' Shock is going to have a degree at some point in the not-so-far future(That is if things go well, and I'm going to make sure that they do.)

 Someone asked me what kind of job I'd get when I got out of school and I said "afterlife" because I do not see myself being anything other than a lifetime student. I will always be working towards getting better and having a sense of what I need to work on in life. Nobody's perfect, especially me and my stubborn brain.

 I raise the proverbial glass in the air, salute the powers that be and drink myself into an intellectual drunken stupor on all of the words, images, and ideas that I can now immerse myself into. It took so much time getting here that I didn't think it was ever possible, but now that I am here I can't see any other alternative. I must succeed because I've fought so hard just to get to this port of entry.

 That last post was more of a placeholder than anything else, and I'd like to replace it with something that makes a little more sense. This may make some sense, but it's some back petting that usually comes from the high of attaining a difficult thing.

 There's no more time for today, but I know that I will be here again to see and interact with all of you great people.

The Laugh Dance

Start

With a single laugh                               HA!

Dipping low, arms in front.

Wrists out, mouth to the stars.

Wiggle with a giggle as you rise.

Shake those arms!

Up, then down,                                      Ha!
Up, then down,                                      Ha!
In, then out,                                           Ha!
In, then out,                                           Ha!

Twirl with a mirthful laugh,                  Wee-HeeHee!
Touch the sky, then the floor,                Hee-Hee!
The floor, then sky,                               Hee-Hee!

Jump from the ground guffawing,        HoHo!
Swing those knees fro, then to,             HoHo!

Roofless Timebomb and Adult Sex-Ed Dream

 I wonder if my dreams mean something. I question if I'll be dreaming when I'm roofless. That's the word I've come up with because I've already become "homeless", but have always had a roof to sleep under. This time limit is like a time bomb ticking down to an impending implosion. I don't know which wires to snip, so I'm just sitting here entranced by the numbers counting down on the display. I sense a finality, but I know somehow I won't be around to hear the "Boom, Click, or Fizzle".

 Last night's dream was weird, but aren't they all? Remembering the yard scene, I see the anthill I approached. It was about eight inches tall by five inches in diameter. I called out to the others that I had found it, then kicked it into flying dust with my boot. Ants came out in every direction, sending me running to the trampoline. At the edge of the trampoline, I came upon a single albino giant ant that was stuck in the grass, waving it's limbs as if it were attempting to suck in air but failing.

 Next thing I know I'm in a traditional factory classroom. Adult sex-ed was the subject. I don't recall if I had a partner, or if people were involved in any hands-on training, but I do remember following a woman,(who belonged to someone else) down the hall, past the lockers to retrieve a blanket. Dragging the blanket on the shiny linoleum floor behind her, I found myself staring at her nudeness in an appreciative stare. Although I was aroused, I felt no impulse to take her or even suggest something of the sort. When we returned to the classroom someone had commented " I know why you wanted to help her", insinuation that the only reason I had agreed to escort her was so that I could get an eyeful of her natural beauty from behind. I didn't believe it to be so, but I didn't argue.

 I got sent on another errand, to give a message to the teller at the diner next door.  At the counter, I saw a long lost friend of mine, Micheal. He looked different because I had never seen him so thin or with freckles, but it was his voice and mannerisms. He was telling the cashier an involved story that seemed to border on bragging when I approached the window beside him. Another man, positioned on the other side of Mike, near the wall, had chimed in. When I called him by the wrong name, he paused with an embarrased reticence before he continued speaking with the teller. I then spoke my request to the red-haired woman behind the glass then made my way to the exit. Before leaving I saw a loving couple in a booth and wondered why they weren't in the class next door.

 Upon my return to the classroom I told someone that I was going to get a prostate exam. They told me that they'd never get one and acted as if it were exactly like paying a gay prostitute to "bust your butt cherry".

 I then woke up to the sound of a light switch being flipped.

Thank you, thieves

 I wanted to take this moment to write to the criminals that invaded my ex-roomate`s house two weeks ago.

 Dear criminals, I am grateful for your decision to kick in that door that dark Friday night. Without your shouts upon violently entering the domicile, I wouldn't have had the time to slip under that slim cot that partially hid me while you were in the other rooms.

 I also extend my gratitude for not turning the light on after kicking my bedroom door, somehow the darkness seemed to add a shroud of safety as you pointed the flashlights and guns around to locate my electronic devices.

 My thanks also goes out for your grilling my roomie as to my whereabouts. Without his replies of  "I don't know!", I would probably still think that he didn't give my life any value at all.

 If you would have believed his true claims of not owning jewelry, you'd have not searched my room well enough to spot those clean socks sticking out beneath that simple bed.

 Thank you for being so surprised at finding me that you both had to leave my handcuffed roomie in the other room to order me to empty my pockets of the four pennies that clattered on the floor as he made his mad dash to the neighbor's house to call the authorities.

Danke for turning tail and running just a split second after I made the decision to grab the weapon and turn it back upon you. I really didn't want to stain my sheets with crimson life fluids, yours or mine.

 Truth is, if you wouldn't have given into your immense feelings of desperation that night, I would probably still be there, feeling like a slave whose artistic flair and individuality had been quashed by an ungrateful and argumentative oppressor.

 The fresh sense of vigor and life that I feel today can partly be attributed to your rash actions in that remote area of this crime-ridden town. Although you have nothing to do with the invisible guardians that continue to deem me worthy of saving, they wouldn't have had that opportunity to save my life once again.

 So, even if you somehow find someone who will buy or barter for my ancient electronics, I want to thank you for causing me to step out of the comfortable zone of stagnation that is more deadly to me than those bullets in your guns.

Chopsticks to the Musca Domestica!

The year, 1984. The movie, Karate Kid.

 My older brother and I went to the theater excited about getting to see it on the day it came out. I can't remember who enjoyed it more, but we were both talking about nothing but the movie for hours after getting picked up and taken home.

 Mother was tired of hearing about all of the kicking and punching, and selected other tidbits of the movie we related to expound upon. One of these was the famous chopsticks scene. "What were the chopsticks used for?" She asked.

 "For eating mom, don't you know asian culture?", I heard my brother sass as I began a plan to explain the scene in the movie and hopefully recreate it.

 "The main character caught a fly with chopsticks, Mom. Can we call for some Chinese cuisine so we can try ourselves?" I asked because I knew she'd give in.

 "The latter seems possible, but the former seems perfectly like the fiction of movies", she always stated things in this way. I loved it.

 One hour and three dirty plates later my brother and I put down our silverware and took the paper off of our simple wooden chopsticks.

 Facing my brother as a competitor has always been bad for me before this point. I was very used to the designation of second place to his overachieving prowess in whatever he wished to compete with me in. I was of a mood to stop that trend that day.

 "On three." He said. I barely had a grip on my set before he quickly went from one to three in half a second. His tricks wouldn't psych me out this time. Time seemed to slow to a crawl by the time I assessed the situation.

 There were three flies flying circuits around the dinner table, eagerly awaiting the moment we cease paying attention to the food. Little did they know that they became more worthy of attention than those random clumps of rice and chicken on the edges of the plates.

 My brother had snapped five times with no result by the time I found my target. He was a fatter fly than the
other two. He seemed to be flying a bit slower than his sisters as well. I imagined that he had found slme broccoli beef that had found it's way to the floor somehow at the beginning of the meal and was now in his after-dinner flight of fancy.

 I lifted my arm as a conductor of a great symphony, but with just one note. The initial strike at the housefly had proved successfull. I snatched him by all six legs. While his wings were buzzing in complaint to my snare,  my eyes were transfixed beyond his multi-faceted eyes to my brother's priceless face. The face of a champion who gets his first loss by a newcomer.

 To emphasize my win, I moved the fly right up to my brother's line of sight. His brow furrowed and he seemed to grunt as he took his sticks in both hands and broke them before tossing them on the table and leaving in a huff.

 So, if anyone tells you that you cannot do something just because it's in a piece of fiction, don't just prove them wrong, beat the best and leave no room for speculation. Get that fly in the first try, then put it in their eye!

I am not a scientist

However, that will not stop me from doing experiments! (insert maniacal laughter here).

They wouldn't let me go to school, so I had to learn on my own.

Therefore, I will most likely be edged out of most academic societies as well. Oh poo!

But not all is lost. I can create my own academic society. One of the worst kind!

 A society that realizes that we know close to nothing at all  as humans and all of our words and gestures are akin to the monkey's grumblings, mumblings, and hind-scratchings.

I refer to my tweet in Ro.

<Ro -- (an artificial language for international use that rejects all existing words and is based instead on an abstract analysis of ideas> From the wordnet 2.1 browser

I have no knowledge of any words in this artificial language, however I do pretend to speak or write it rather easily in this tweet:

So, if anyone out there can communicate in the artificial language of RO, and somehow I said something that can be translated into some sort of mannerism or gesture of the tailbone, then by all means let the communication commence!

P.S. In case no one at all in the existing universe is willing to speak with me on Twitter in the language of RO, someone please just play along and make it seem like it makes sense. There's bound to be a part in the follow-up post for you, I'm sure.

 Until next time, Slorb mof griwlchit nawglay!

Seriously

Hey, Hay, Eh!

I found an errant wi-fi connection, that seems a bit faster than the old dial-up modems I used to use way back when so I'm glad to be able to put up this post for you all. I hope you'll understand when I tell you that it would be nearly improbable for me to upload a picture or visit after posting. I will not try the picture, but I will try a few visits.

 I will now rant about various things irking me today, for I woke up in one of the foulest moods for what seemed like no reason at all.

 Roomates- How many times have I told myself never to have one again? But yet it keeps happening like a broken DVR that re-records the same lame episodes of Roseanne, save without the eye candy that is Becky#2.

 I've been staying put out in the digital boonies with a roomate. Without the interneck we are forced to play primitive video games, watch old dvd's, and sometimes just converse. All three things would be fun if it weren't for his penchant for arguing.

 I thought I was the king of arguing until I stepped into his abode. One of his favorite pastimes is to get me into a discussion only to tell me that I love to argue. Duh! That's a given, but most times I am not the one initiating the arguing points. He is under the belief that everything he thinks is right and I'm wrong about everything. I'm usually only wrong about two things. Women and jobs. Everything else seems to have a right rigid place in my world. He doesn't see it that way and probably never will.

 Wifi-  There are whole cities with free wi-fi access for it's citizens and visitors. How can this be? Why do some cities like Philidelphia embrace such a great cause while my own backwater hole does nothing but cram the airwaves with secure network after secure network. It is my belief that if a person wanted to have a truly secure network, they would not broadcast the SSID. But for some reason, it's as if they know others like me have little to no means to obtain very expensive internet service and want to wave the internet they can only enjoy in their poor faces.

 They tell me, "Go to McDonalds, they have free wi-fi".   Well, they also have menu items, policies and practices that I cannot afford, do not condone, and will never be a part of. I would not cry if somehow every McDonalds and Walmart in the world were inexplicably vaporized one starry night.

 Back to wi-fi. The only place near me that has it is a bar. I have been told that I do not have to spend any money in order to surf, but that is very bad form. If you have as little money as I do and you're in a bar, you're a cadge. So when I do get a little spending cash, I get strange looks from the regulars when I order my soda  and sit in the corner.

 I found a phone on the ground the other day. Finding something this personal is strange to me. If it were just a twenty dollar bill(which is about what the phone was worth), I would just go and spend it, not knowing anything about the person who dropped it. But no, this piece of electronics was chock full of this person's information. I did feel a tinge of regret when going through the photos and videos, but some of them were quite funny. Someone asked me if I were going to do the 'right' thing and return it. I told them no because although I do own a blackberry, the phone I found includes not only a camera, but a voice recorder app and a radio. The blackberry I had obtained was so old that there is no camera, and no way to listen to anything other than the very old ringtones. Rim technologies should have been ashamed of themselves when coming out with that particular device. If someone told them at the inception of it's creation that someone would prefer a tracphone to their device, they would have laughed until they puked. I'm not laughing, nor puking. Haha.

 Google Cars, or the driverless vehicle- I am a huge fan of this branch of innovation. I myself have lived through 4 car accidents and will never drive again. I've come to terms with being a pedestrian all of my life. Then I hear about the driverless vehicle and start dreaming. Some of those dreams are fluffy and light, but others end in calamity. Example.

 The first google car to be purchased may do very well. It may do so well that another thousand of them are bought( Universe knows I won't be able to afford one). But once a driverless vehicle gets into a crash, all bets will be off. The victims in both vehicles will be justly compensated in their choice of google glasses or stock options(I can sense people will go for the glasses), leaving the rest of the driverless fleet grounded until legislation can be passed to make the safer roads even more safer. So, these thousand or so people who buy one and get all fuzzy inside will regret their purchase when all of them are shut-down and they are offered cab rides and carpools to ease their pains.

 I don't mean to be a ninny, but I'm very certain that only a portion of drivers would go to a driverless car. Part of the allure of driving is having control. If you told someone that you can make them safer by taking away control, they'd tell you 'no thanks'. So about the only people who will buy into this phenomenon are the drunk, the blind, and the hopeless pedestrians like me(well like me but with enough money to buy a car). That's not enough to matter. It won't change the world to make it a safer place. Until people relinquish their perceived control, the driverless car will travel nowhere.

 That's it for now, but I'll be popping in a bit more frequently. For it is spring, and my heart has sprung. I may be old, but I'm not dead. I refuse to do that alone.

 So until next time, have the most fun you can!