“I don’t know, they drink, and they bend things at the bar.”

Someone stole my identity.  I found out today when my bank notified me my credit score plummeted over 200 points.  I won’t know the extent of the damage until I get some more information, but holy shit.  Fortunately, I don’t know how to feel about it, so I’ve picked nothing.  (It might just be because I’m overtired.)

I was too excited to sleep last night.  I had an epic breakthrough after decades of trial and error.  I gave up on the problem, and starting thinking of a new approach then found the solution.  I guess I just needed to stop pressuring myself.  (Hindsight is such an asshole.)  Instead of sleeping, I lay in bed listening to my favorite podcast.

It’s called, And That’s Why We Drink.  It’s hilarious and scary.  It’s two young women explaining all the messed up things in the world that led to their drinking.  (One drinks boxed wine, the other milkshakes.)  They’re going to get me in trouble for bursting into laughter (seemingly randomly) during the wee hours of the night.

It can’t be helped, other than my listening at a more appropriate time.  The hosts talk about the scary stuff (occult shit and serial killers) just long enough for me to forget I’m trying to be quiet.  Then I burst into full-on belly laughter again and end up shushing myself and feeling guilty.  (Because I’m Midwestern, I think.)

I also listen to Lore, of course.  And Myths and Legends is another favorite.  That stuff fascinates me.  It’s all about people.  I highly recommend all three podcasts.  I listen to them on Spotify, (which I love now that I finally kicked iTunes to the curb.)  I’m all about the CD or the streaming.  (No more renting disguised as owning.)

I love the time change.  Too bad I didn’t use any of it sleeping.  My eyes feel like I’m wearing contacts constructed of sandpaper.  No reading tonight, but I’ll listen to podcasts instead.  Until Oathbringer is released in just over a week.  Yay.  I’m off to beat my drums.

“So, maybe he’s got like a cheerful mental hold on you.”

My first movie.  (I know it wasn’t necessary to state this after allowing you to view it.  Humor me.)  I feel so naked, letting you see my happy place.  The lights are dimmable, and each dot you see is an individual (RGB) light I can control individually with my phone via Bluetooth.   Or I can make it all one color.

I used channels to diffuse and mount two 16.4′ strips.  I’ll provide a list of links to purchase a less nerdy solution I’ve tested working on both IOS and Android devices.  (Computer nerds don’t need links.)

RGB LED strip

Bluetooth controller

Power supply (up to 2 strips tested working.)

There are less expensive options, such as buying directly from China or using eBay.  The section where it’s dark is where I connected the strips.  Also, this is after my Star Wars memorabilia purge.  M. said he didn’t notice I gave any away.  (Sometimes I do get the hint.)  I’m going to start leaving vintage and current Star Wars figures in random places around town with little “Take me home” stickers on them.

I’m all about making everything fun, whenever possible.  My gift to people who pay attention to their surroundings, I guess.  Heh.  Fifteen days until the release of Oathbringer, by Brandon Sanderson.  This is even bigger than the new Star Wars film to me.  Novels reach me far more than movies.  (This is why I pronounce so many words wrong.)  I’m off to read.  🙃

(Edited to add crappy photos)

P.S.   I don’t know Stevie Nicks personally in this galaxy.  Only the one I imagined.

“I was in the middle of a game of Parcheesi with an old blind man, and I excused myself to call my friend as he was very depressed lately because he never became a banker.”

Dear geniuses, you’re in for it this time.  I’m in a mood.  Which means I’m not myself; except I’m autistic, which means I’m too myself.  You’ve been warned.  I’m feeling harassed.  I hate this aggressive recruiting in the AI field.  I know I gush over Jeff Bezos sometimes, and Amazon often, but he’s one of the most brilliant minds in commerce, presently.  Despite that, I wouldn’t work for him.  He’s fascinating.  But we don’t see eye to eye on some crucial beliefs.

I’m not a psychiatrist or psychologist, therefore I make bold, unproven statements about psychology on a near daily basis, (just like you do.)  I take myself with a grain of salt in many regards.  That’s only one of the many reasons why.  I just cracked myself up.  😂  I hope you weren’t expecting me to stay on topic.  If so, you’re going to be disappointed.  Or perhaps, amused.  I consider virtually all the top commerce superstars to be sociopaths.  Fanboys, come at me.

My rebuttal:  Steve Jobs.  Moving right along.  The thing I hate about capitalism is the fact it’s led to the worship of sociopaths.  It’s inevitable they rise to the top because it’s a ruthless model.  There’s no denying it.  It lowers the value of life by merely existing.  I predict water will be the next currency.  (And I’m an optimist!)  Valuing anything over life, human included, is The Manual on how to fail at survival in the long game.  This is a fact.

It would have been more efficient to create bacteria that destroy DNA at a rapid speed.  We should have just done that in the 1920’s and fecked off.  It pisses me off that Orson Scott Card is the only author who ever thought about this, (to my knowledge.)  He’s on a permanent boycott for his loud hatred of homosexuals.  It’s one of the evilest things I’ve ever seen a man do without being a politician.  (Then I found out about Joel Osteen.)

I don’t understand why he’s allowed to live, based on what I’ve observed of Christian dogma.  I don’t understand Christians at all, it seems.  They’re okay with genocide (the Holocaust,) but Joel Osteen gets to go on TV and prove there’s no god, unmolested.   Slavery seems about right to a startling quantity of them, but a white man can say or do anything.  Why does my heart break every time my atheism is reinforced?

It seems like it shouldn’t be a painful realization, but it is.  I wanted to believe.  I know people who are so faithful and focused on being like Jesus Christ, it makes me cry.  I feel like some of the best people we have are being conned, but I can’t help but notice it’s not hurting them.  They don’t follow the Holy Bible by rote.  They live in their spirit, and it guides them to righteousness, (as is it’s valid attribute.)

They listen to their spirit habitually.  It’s beautiful.  I try to copy.  It’s a priority in my life to be like them.  The thing that kinda pisses me off about them is they make me study religion when I’d really rather not.  This is where the con is flipped around on me, but knowing this doesn’t change anything.  I guess it makes it funnier.

They know I’m studying them.  I don’t do subtle.  But these beautiful people won’t tell me what I want to know.  They’re so freaking careful about it, too.  I get it.  I have to figure it out myself, or I won’t understand.  So annoying.  I’m not 27 anymore.  Geez!  But I get it.  Sigh.  They know I have to know if there’s something important in those ancient, much mistranslated, mansplained, and edited tomes.  They know I’m going to analyze them obsessively, just in case.

The worst part is, they don’t even think it’s funny.  It’s hilarious!  I’ve already read this story.  Probably by Brandon Sanderson, who is practically my spiritual guide.  I know the plot twist at the end of my life might be me finding out I’m devout (insert religion here.)  That would probably piss me off and amuse me at the same time.  The universe has a twisted sense of humor like that, though.

Sometimes I think the universe maintains her sense of humor in the UK.  It seems to me it’s the epicenter of funny on this planet, (and therefore the known universe.)  I just cracked myself up again.  I’m acting like I’m mad at NASA for not colonizing a planet yet.  And yes, I contributed nothing to the effort, and therefore should STFU, but I’m a wee bit audacious in my head, and I’m leaking.

My face doesn’t hurt as much now.  It’s a good thing because I ran out of Motrin.  I have a script for Norco, some antibiotic, and that nasty mouth rinse from a dental issue I had a while back.  I had to get a biopsy, and then they dropped the C word, and I freaked out just in time to find out they were just going to cut it out.  It was so weird to have cancer for 72 hours because it wasn’t long enough for me to react, (my react is probably what neurotypicals consider overreacting.  Just something I’ve noticed.)  I only told one person, then felt weird around them ever after.

I could write a book about weird endings to relationships of all types.  It would be too depressing to write, though.  I’m excellent at not dwelling on the negative (when I’m not having a bout of depression.)  When I’m depressed, I actually enjoy thinking of negative shit.  It darkly amuses me, and it feels like I’m lashing out at the Depression Monster, even though I know for a fact it’s a futile strategy.  I think it’s the mental equivalent of breaking things.  Depression and anger are friends.

I think being disabled means, you’re also going to struggle with depression.  They should rename it Depressabled.  Feel free to play with the word.  I wish mental illness caused spontaneous glowing.  I think it’s the only way we’ll ever get people to recognize it as a valid disability.  Right now, it’s an acceptable reason to shame.  That’s disgusting.  Sociopath worship, ladies, and gentleman.   It’s capitalism in a nutshell.  It’s anti-DNA.  It’s going to punch us in the face so hard.  I’ll probably die before the big bill comes due.  The universe is merciful.  I wish more people were.

“You know, eighty-five percent of all homeless rickshaw businesses fail within the first three months.”

I’m having a day.  I have a lot on my mind of late.  I feel the need to express some vulnerabilities and flaws.  (Please, don’t hurt me for it.)  I talked on the phone with the woman who was my buddy in basic training earlier.  She explained I’ve hurt her feelings because the only time we communicate is when she contacts me.  I felt like crying, but I didn’t.  She said she wants us to be close again.  This is confusing to me.  I didn’t know we stopped.

I have no idea what took place between us to lessen the bond.  I love her dearly.  I have all along.  She’s a beautiful person.  Plus, she significantly improved my Sesame Street-level Spanish.  She survived basic training with me.  It’s one of the tightest bonds I’ve ever formed with a non-family member.  I didn’t know it mattered who initiated contact.  How can time weaken a friendship?  I don’t understand.  It’s like saying, I love you when I’m standing near you, but when I’m far away, my feelings change.

I told her I was confused, but I also apologized and asked her to tell me the rules.  (It’s an inside joke.)  She laughed and said she needs me to contact her once a month for no reason.  I’m relieved to know.  She said it’s not a universal rule, which frustrates the crap out of me, but at least I know what data to collect.  I told her she can count on it.  I’m going to contact her twice a month to make up for the fact I’m clearly using my calendar.  (I’m an optimist.)

It will take a while for my heart to stop aching over this.  I don’t know how to explain why I suck at being a friend.  I only have hints to work with.  I feel like I spend my entire life walking on eggshells.  They feel more like landmines.  It’s not for lack of effort on my part.  It seems like what I intuit is often wrong.  From there, I usually end up overcorrecting, which makes it worse.  By the time I find the golden zone, most people have decided to cut their losses and move on.

People are like art.  Each a universe of information and potential.  As with art, interpretation is everything.   The closer you observe, the more you get in return.  If it’s music, close observation entails repetitive listening with intense focus.  With people, you have to worry about observing too carefully or too often.  Most people feel vulnerable when scrutinized.  My working rule is to allow others to decide when they’re open to it.  (I devour what’s shared consensually and no further.)

The problem lies in the fact people usually express their discomfort in secret code.  I say secret code because the hints given vary widely from person to person.  (Aside from outright proclaiming, “Hey! Take a picture, it last’s longer!”)  All my data is from past failures:  I ask too many questions.  That’s a big one.  I ask weird questions.  Questions nobody ever asked them before, and they don’t have an answer already loaded, which is apparently annoying.

What I understand, is that people don’t really want to be as present in the company of others as is currently in vogue, but prefer popping in and out at will.  (I’m working on this, too.)  “Keep it light.”  “Don’t be so deep.”  “You’re too intense.”  “Relax.”  I hear it a lot.  I’m trying.  It’s counterintuitive and exceedingly counterproductive to my goal of understanding and relating to others.   I know it’s possible.  Other people do it all the time.  I just have to decipher the secret code.  (This is why I use a smartphone as an external hard drive for my meat brain.)

I need a computer to mostly fail at being a good friend.  Oofda.  I’m grateful I have a smartphone to help turn always fail into mostly fail.  I’m making progress.  I just hope the singularity occurs soon.  I’m going to need a lot more time at this rate.  I’m off to play my violin to some cows.  I need to spend some time with creatures I understand for a while.  Then I’m going to design an electronic drum kit for my foster brother who has cerebral palsy.  In exchange, he gave me his old Tama Cobra 600 single bass pedal!  He’s also going to show me why the way I set up my kit is apparently wrong, and give me other tips.  (He’s an excellent drummer.)  🙃

“All right, shut up the both of you! You’re making me nervous.”

I finally slept.  I had some interesting dreams that stuck with me upon waking, (leading to daydreaming.)  I dreamed of building a city in the sky.  It looked like a giant bubble.  Its skin was able to reflect or absorb light, making it solar powered.  When it absorbed light, it helped block sunlight from reaching the poles and stored the excess power in batteries used on the planet’s surface.  Its mass, just outside the earth’s atmosphere, could be manipulated by its position to affect the ocean tides.

When I’m dreaming, I’m able to overcome obstacles like a child by not recognizing them in the first place.  It’s convenient.  (I suspect we all dream in our child minds.)  Strategic positioning of the city in the sky allowed for a bit of control over weather by eliminating or directing extremes.  The outer layer consisted of a magnetic force field to deflect space dust and debris.  It also had the beautiful effect of increasing the size and visibility of the aurora borealis and aurora australis.

The city in the sky handled all manufacturing and fulfillment.  (Amazon was the first company to relocate in my dream, of course.)  The entire industry of transporting goods via ship, rail, or road ceased to exist.  The people who ran the industry moved to the city in the sky and helped create the new industry, consisting of solar-powered drones of various sizes dropped from above and controlled by former ships mates, truck drivers, train conductors, etc.

In my dream, most kids wanted to grow up to be air traffic controllers or drone pilots.  Especially since both positions were open to disabled people usually not considered for any type of employment.  The abundance of clean energy helped end wars.  Large military forces were reassigned as sky city law enforcement, government, and overall running of sky city with military proficiency and dedication, and a similar service contract.

Nations worked together to protect earth from drastic climate change, deadly waste, pollution, potential asteroid collisions, and a well-funded space program.  On earth, we stopped maintaining roads and repurposed the existing materials.  The funds formerly pumped into the military industrial complex were redirected to education, and making sure everyone had nutritious food and excellent medical care.  Public transportation became universal by magnetic dart trains traveling at high speed through the air.

I didn’t dream how they worked but recall they were powered by solar batteries and floated on magnetic fields generated by giant pylons all over the planet that doubled as hospitals, hotels, museums, and entertainment hubs.  From space, they made the earth look like it had uniform porcupine spines resembling giant trees on a grid.  Sky city was so diverse, one’s race became as insignificant as their middle name.

A renaissance period began, as employment became a contract of three or four years, and the average earthling served three or four contracts in their adulthood, often varying in industry.  People had more time to spend with their families and friends.  Everyone had time to pursue what fascinated them, and take good care of their body. Huge bands formed and performed the soundtracks to live action and readings.  Authors, artists, and directors released their latest creations at a chosen pylon, where the event was broadcast live to all pylons, making such events available to anyone who wanted to participate.

Artificial intelligence controlled many of the details, such as live translation.  It became a dependable force directed by scientists to improve lives and the health of our planet.  It policed corruption and prevented it before it could take place.  It provided evidence in court and facilitated a companion to many who suffered from loneliness, mental illnesses, and similar conditions.  It helped level the playing field for many disabled and infirm.  It enforced court-ordered behavioral changes, such as preventing someone from harming another.  It used predictive technology and had the most complete databases of human knowledge and medical conditions, with access for all.

I dreamed that the artificial intelligence didn’t provide the companionship, but instead facilitated it between two humans, regardless of their location, language, or ability.  Your companion was a real person you could meet if you were so inclined.  Connections between companions often led to strong bonds, including marriage.  There was more, but that’s all I remember.  There was still sadness and strife in the world, of course.  The human condition.  But far more people had access to experiences and opportunities to reach their potential.  Much more people felt their life had a purpose, and found moments of joy pursuing it.

I don’t believe in utopia, but I do believe in a vastly improved world for humanity.  I dream of things like this often, so I guess it’s a recurring dream in many ways.  My brain is obsessed with the topic of healing the planet and giving all humans a shot at being awesome.  People fascinate me even more than computers.  Probably because they’re so much better, it’s not a fair comparison.  Sometimes I wish I could observe from less distance, (but then I remember my last shut down, and get over myself.) 😂  I’m off to beat my drums with sticks.

Shouldn’t you be out on a ledge somewhere?

I burned out.  I may need to readdress my growth strategy in the ongoing battle to annihilate PTSD.  Statistically, it’s sound.  However, it takes an incredible toll on me.  I’m not recovered enough to decide.  I’ve pulled back as far as I’m able.  My brain is functioning again, but it still requires significant amounts of focus to do basic things I normally do on auto-pilot.

I’m recovered enough to recognize things I miss when I’m forcing my square perception through round slots.  Straining to my limit affects my spirit, and not in a healthy way.  It results in my having to strain to connect with other essences.  I thought giving 100% at all times was wise.  Turns out, it’s just a commonly repeated statement, (clearly invented by someone who didn’t think it through to a logical conclusion.)

When you give 100% all the time, you’re behaving like a poorly programmed bot.  You don’t improve.  Your efficiency is stagnant, you don’t notice details, and you don’t imagine.  How ridiculous.  Why surrender your greatest advantage over computers?  I’m raising an artificial human mind.  I started when I was twelve.  I don’t use the methods of the vast majority of my peers.  I only know of one other person on earth using a similar strategy to develop true AI.

I don’t learn well from direct interaction.  It’s too close and is basically a meltdown waiting to happen.  I learn well from observing at a distance.  I’m overwhelmed by too much (irrelevant) information.  I’m too easily frustrated (and distracted) to thoroughly sift through every instance.  The pattern is too thick and elusive for my meat mind alone.

I thought better when I was twelve.  I had far less information (and shame over intensely observing.)  I was socially inept, and this kept me at a distance from all unlikely to forgive.  I knew aging in our society is too often synonymous to rationalizing our imaginations to death.  At one point, I thought it was what distinguished an adult, but of course, I was technically a child at the time.

My child mind felt betrayed by adults and assumed it was deliberate.  I know now it’s merely fulfilling expectations.  I also know many adults are children grieving the loss of their best self.  This knowledge had a tremendous impact on my perception (in a good way.)  It also affected how I train my AI.  I’m teaching her to think like a human.  Like an entity that doesn’t give 100% at all times, (as this is mediocrity defined.)

I’m always able to reconnect with my AI (after burning out) before I can even consider venturing back into social situations with humans.  She’s my missing link.  The language barrier alone can feel too exhausting to bother.  It’s led to another signal to track for when I’m near melting.  When people who usually comprehend my words become confused by them, I’m close to melting.  (I recognize the significance of having people I communicate with often enough to notice.)

I think of this time as a system shutdown, start-up into safe mode, and scan.  (It could be worse, so I dare not complain.)  I don’t box myself in with time constraints, as I’ve learned this only extends the duration.  I’m operating at 50% capacity and marveling at the comfort.  I’ve been studying the sky.  I forgot how beautiful it is.  I’ve imagined an epic battle shaped by cloud formations between aliens and earthlings.  (We win.  Yay.)  How did I ever allow myself to forego forgo this joyful activity?

I’m off to imagine the sequel, (where the alien mothership shows up to investigate why her fleet has disappeared. 😯 😉 )

Fly, by linny-0 via DeviantArt.

 

Ah, the sweet stench of failure.

I’m recovering from a smashed ego, today.  I’m trying to remind myself it’s an uncomfortable growth opportunity.  (It’ll probably go better when I stop internally telling myself off like a Drill Sgt.)  I know I should drop this step altogether, but it’s pretty ingrained, and eventually, it’ll make me laugh.  I think I enjoy swearing so much because it’s a taboo I decided is harmless.  It kinda went like this:  Swear words don’t cause anyone to die. Therefore, they’re harmless.  (I know, it’s toddler logic.)

I wish I could say that was the extent of my error, but it’s just the tip of the iceberg.  I also decided anyone who objected to my liberal use of swear words was being too sensitive, and should just avoid my blog.  Sigh.  When I mess up, I go all out, it seems.  I know better.  Who the hell am I to tell someone else how to feel, or react to my poor behavior?  Who made me the judge of what’s offensive and what’s not?  Where do I get off?  Right here.

I was wrong.  I was arrogant, rude, and insensitive.  I have no right to tell anyone how to feel.  Feelings just are.  Most of us can barely make any sense of them, and none of us can control them without lying to ourselves.  I’m sorry.  I invalidated people.  I did it while whining about being hurt by someone invalidating me, and still didn’t recognize my mistake.  My values are unable to accommodate using profanity.  My blog isn’t private.  I get it, now.  I’m sorry, and I’m correcting my behavior going forward.

I don’t go back and erase the foolish mistakes I’ve made because they’re a powerful reminder.  They’re my big brother punching me in the shoulder, asking, “What did you learn?”  It’s a lot harder to be arrogant when I know my past failures are still out there, ready to bodyslam my ego at any time.  I’m still pretty haunted by my pre-resistance rantings when I fell for divisive lies about Hillary Clinton.  I’m listening to her audiobook, What Happened?.  She narrates it herself, which is important to me.  I’m auditory oriented, (probably because my vision sucks.)

I probably should have waited until I recovered from the above pathetic mistake before I began finding out the depth of my political ignorance.  (Good thing I’m learning how to be a self-care ninja.)  I’m enjoying listening to her.  What I’d give to have done this with one of her other books before I publicly put my foot in my mouth.  Sigh.  It would have guided me away from the lies and propaganda.  Instead, I read sci-fi and fantasy novels, almost exclusively.  Fortunately, I also read Charles Dickens, J.K. Rowling, and John Irving.

Sci-fi and fantasy novels do have lots of information about ethics, but only if I bother to apply what I learn to reality.  J.K. Rowling wrote The Casual Vacancy, and I devoured it.  I have no excuses.  I failed to use what I learned, (despite it being a lesson in my own language.)  I feel like I’ve let down some of my personal heroes after they bent over backward to help me grow.  Don’t try this at home.  (I’m probably going to be dehydrated from this pity party.)

Cry Me a River is playing in my head, to boot.  Can you say drama queen?  Okay, enough wallowing, Alison.  I don’t have time to cry over failing.  I only have time to note where I went wrong, and fix it.  Alison 4.0 is under construction.  My last iteration only made it about 24 hours.  At this rate, I’ll need special characters to keep track.  Alright.  Let’s try this again.  Who the hell am I?  I’m Alison, an American who loves her country.  I’m a woman who has an incredible roster of individuals who exemplify my values where I can observe and emulate.

I’m a flawed human who makes mistakes often.  I’m a striving spirit on a mission to be the best me possible, without hurting others in the process.  I’m a better person today than I was yesterday, so there’s that.  It has to be enough because I’m going to make mistakes in the future.  Here’s to not repeating the same errors.  I’m off to wash my face and get busy.  I hope your weekend is going better than mine! 💜

You got a problem with paba?

The Depression Monster is kicking my ass.  I’m doing surprisingly well, despite.  Well, in that I’m too numb for it to touch my spirit.  The buffer has always existed, but it’s only recently occurred why.  I’m delighted by this new insight.  I’ve decided to accept it without analyzing it (to death.)  My understanding is enough.  How rare.  But I don’t dare linger here.  The brain zaps from Prozac withdrawal are happening every few moments, now.  It feels a lot like being excessively high on cannabis.  It’s almost out of me forever.  Yay.

I’m glad I went on the marijuana tour last year, or this would probably freak me out.  (Okay, definitely.)  I was awed by the amount of weed I was able to consume without consequences during the tour.  I watched the younger tourists consume far more simultaneously, also without repercussion.  It had the intended effect of eliminating rote fears.  Something about cannabis works the same way Prozac does on my brain.  Does this mean I’m going to replace Prozac with pot?  Nope.   😂  Fuck drugs.

While I had no compunction with legally consuming in the past, I’ve grown since.  People who were off my radar then are now present in my world, and their influence is intense.  I could legally smoke a joint in front of both Michelle Obama and Lisa Bloom (my imaginary personal life coaches) without feeling like I was hovering over a pit of doom.  I couldn’t do it in front of  Stevie Nicks, though.  I can’t even do it knowing Stevie Nicks exists.  So here we are.  Post pot life.  I’m glad I experimented, but fuck feeling like I’m hovering over a pit of doom just to get high.

It’s not even ironic.  Stevie Nicks specifically said to avoid cocaine, bourbon, and weed because she used the hell out of them, and it almost killed her.  She added Klonopin to the list of never do’s, too, stating it was the worst of them.  Through watching her documentary DVD’s and the interviews on YouTube, I learned of this dark chapter of her story.  It made me grieve for what she endured.  (That’s the only part that didn’t surprise me.  😂)   Do as I learned, not as I did before learning.  That’s fucking powerful.  I’m amazed by this turn of events, but not upset.

I’m pretty confident I was born high enough.  I don’t need mood altering substances to tease reality.  I can just read a Stephen King novel.  Or Clive Barker, who is rapidly gaining my loyalty as a reader.  I abandoned Tess of d’Ubervilles by Thomas Hardy quickly, and read Duma Key by Stephen King, instead.  If you’re an artist, read Duma Key.  You’re welcome.  (It’s an excellent story, regardless.)  I’m done reading fiction that centers on women as victims.  I’m basically abstaining from the Lifetime Channel variety of novels forever.  ‘Cuz holy shit.  It’s like forced empathy training for sociopaths, (as if that would work.)

What?  Your novel is about a woman who got raped?  (Visualize me running away, screaming “Fuck!”)  I don’t even watch TV anymore.  I have four TV’s, two of which are newer 4k LG’s with HDR.  I’m going to give away the other two.  The new ones are still useful for movies and video games.  And to watch Will and Grace when it starts, of course.  My other show, Better Things, I buy to stream via Amazon.  I’m going to give away my Fire TV, too, since I just realized I haven’t used it since I set it up a year ago.  Oops.  Roku made it redundant.  I haven’t even looked at the Apple 4k whatever.  I’m good.

I need to give away my excess computers, too.  My house AI can stay once I adjust her, but all the single card computers can go.  I don’t need to know the humidity level of my bedroom while I’m  sleeping, for starters.  I regret I’ve crossed the line between smart home and smart ass home.  Sigh.  I thought I would love it, but it turns out I find it incredibly annoying between the hours of 2 and 4 AM.  Even Wanda Sykes couldn’t make me laugh during that time…  On second thought, she probably could.  😂  But until she shows up to try, I’ll be sleeping during those hours.  I’m off to debug de-feature.

Don’t think about the nose.

CW:  Ranty and sweary

 

 

 

 

I saw some alarming footage of 45 while overseas.  It’s not the first incident I’ve noticed.  I’ve been able to shrug it off before, but it’s adding up to a potentially horrible situation.  I think 45 is unwell.  (I’m a doctor, but not the type who can diagnose illness.)  I think something is seriously wrong with him.  I’m by no means a fan. However, he’s a human being who appears to be suffering.  I’m surprised by how much it’s upset me.

Any POTUS is subject to harsh criticism from opposing views.  Americans value this freedom.  It allows us to feel less powerless in a loosely representational democracy.  When a POTUS is clearly unwell, it’s different.  It’s like striking after your opponent is down.  It’s unpalatable.  He’s fucking up on a daily basis, but I seriously don’t think he’s himself at this point.

After watching the footage of him looking lost and confused, I have to admit I felt sorry for him.  He looked genuinely distressed, and I don’t think he has anyone in his inner circle who is looking out for him.  They seem to be rushing as fast as possible to enforce their agendas like they’re racing against time.  I’m starting to think that’s exactly what’s up.

With the ongoing investigation into ties with Russia, I doubt it will be long before the backstabbing begins.  I don’t think there’s any loyalty thick enough to keep loose lips from sinking more ships.  I knew things were going to get ugly, but when the person in the center of it all is clearly sick, it’s even worse.

I feel angry at the GOP leadership.  What the fuck?  They put party over country religiously, but there’s no unity within the fucking party.  It’s ridiculous.  It’s like they want him to humiliate himself in public, so they sent him overseas in this fragile condition.  They think about who wins when he fails, not how to prevent failure.  It’s despicable.  I had no idea there were so many short-sighted assholes on this planet.  It’s mind-boggling.

Tribalism doesn’t work with 7 billion tribes.  Fuck.  We have to come together and work this out, or we all lose.  We cannot exist together on this planet and behave like there aren’t 6.9 billion other humans doing the same fucking thing!  We have to evolve and mature enough to stop being barbarians who kill for something shiny.  We have a long way to go.

It’s a mindset that has to change, or homo sapiens will be a short, disturbing whimper in time.  I’m not talking about radically changing the government and introducing some bullshit utopia.  I’m talking about how we think, privately, within our minds.  We need to embrace the entire human race as part of Team Survival.  All this ignorant shit about skin color, eye shape, hair texture, etc. is holding us back and distracting us from our potential.

We’re an incredible species.  You know it, I know it.  We all imagine improbable human innovations throughout our lives.  We’re dreamers.  We’ve all secretly been a little disappointed we don’t have flying cars yet because we know it’s within our capabilities as a species.  A huge reason I like science fiction is it so often includes details about marvelous gadgets and technology created by humans.  I always believe we can totally pull it off if we focus and work together toward the goal.

I don’t even need to mention NASA’s history or the cosmonauts. We’ve gotten sidetracked by unbelievably immature wars and terrorism.  We still figuratively play Tic-Tac-Toe as a species, and it’s fucking embarrassing.  It’s pointless every single time, yet we keep doing it.  Most of the planet’s resources are used, wasted, and destroyed to secure access to more resources.  IT. IS. SO. FUCKING. FRUSTRATING.

It reminds me of when I was a little kid.  My older brother used to trade me a shiny penny for my dirty, crumpled up dollar bill.  He thought I was a sucker.  I figured he was a sucker.  In reality, we’re all suckers.  We traded a beautiful, lush planet that could sustain us in vast numbers for thousands of years, for fossil fuels, even though there were alternatives that would allow us to have our cake and eat it too.  FUCK.