I have a few days to a week online before ending this. I will end this last. I am trying to find what I am connected to online and end each of those connections. Some forums do not even have a means of ending the connection, others might take a phone call as well as online activity. Every security system I have tried has failed. I consider this a combined failure of Microsoft, ISP servers, and third party software providers. It almost seems as if they want us to feel secure without being secure. Making it look good, like a beautiful car with a big engine and with really poor braking.
I checked into Linux and routers. Beside the expense, the fact is these are really little more safe than Microsoft’s OS against a dedicated knowledgeable hacker. Now, I could spend the next two years of my life and some small fortune gaining the knowledge and ability to provide (better) security, be aware of my system and know how to “manually” know about and then end unwanted intrusions into my system. However, after evaluating this, I cannot say that my interest in the internet is worth this much hassle or money.
Do you enjoy my readers? Of course I do. Do I enjoy scouting their blogs, news sites, information about purchases, and just having fun on-line? You bet I do. How much is that worth compared to how much I make? How much time would it take to be able to do these things without endangering my identity, financial security, and sanity? Between those two questions lies the simple truth, I cannot afford the internet.
I have wondered why someone would be so hot for my system. My computer is not that powerful anymore. I end my internet connection when not in use (it is cable, so always ready, but without power, it is not always available). I do have strong political and religious beliefs, though, who does not? I have come to the simple conclusion that it simply does not matter why, and the question about security has been answered. Frustrated, perhaps, but I now understand. Thugs rule the internet and the people who could (probably) stop them, do not.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Friday, November 16, 2007
Poetry and Wisdom from the Lost and Found?
Coffee!
I love coffee, and all that the drink entails.
Mood swings to the nearly divine positive
and a tail spin not unrelated to obverse mania,
unitl another cup or, and better, carafe is proffered.
In heaven, I will drink only fresh fine coffee.
Which, like on earth, in heaven, I will share.
Come to my fire, sit in my simple mud hut,
but bring your own cup, I will not be in a mansion.
Given grace, knowledge, and wisdom, true and pure.
Having a body that works and a mind that is unfettered.
I will then be what I am and my servant will be true.
That servant will be me, and that servant will serve you.
Ok, I’ll stop there. I just had to try. I will never ever be a poet. And, I write poetry to prove it. I wonder if that is why atheists do what they do? Oh well, I do not understand anything well, it seems. At least I enjoy what ignorance remains to me and the clueless nature of the innocence I can muster as I proceed forward into what I know to be a harsh reality. Whistling past the graves? No. Embracing the whole nature of it all, with hope if with certainty, sincerely, and in good faith? Perhaps. That is my choice if not my way.
Today, the locks, tomorrow, the world? Well, something of that nature. The new locks have been installed. I have learned another trick or two about home security measures. And, I am using some of my old techniques to ensure security. Do not worry, none of the lethal means are being employed lest an innocent be harmed. The guilty, I do not care. Still, this is supposed to be a civil world to which I returned home. And, by heaven, I will still kill to keep it that way. I said I try to be good guy, not a nice guy.
I am still upset, however. Even after having “cared for” my computer, I find that it is compromised. Whatever is doing this is not showing up in anti-virus and anti-spy-ware software (top of the line, so it is said, and from two different companies), so it is merely better than the detection or using a method that is not in the detection line-up. Government work? Doubtful. First, I have no doubt the government bots are at work, these have been unobtrusive and tasteful. Well, we are at war, think about it. Even G.I. mail has been and probably is monitored. Why would I be so special to be unfettered, as a civilian? Beyond, I hope they are using these methods and leaving political correctness out of doing serious work. I do suspect who and how I am being hacked, I just do not have the means of detecting, tracing back, so, knowing with certainty. Further, I am sure that whatever hardware or software I purchase or install, it will not matter. After looking very closely at the security of routers and Linux, I realize that a determined hacker can and will break my system. Further, I believe the hacking is top grade. Lastly, I believe I am on some hacker’s short list. Privacy is lost to me, and to any who disagree, I do believe. I am really considering going off-line at this point. It is not necessarily about privacy, but personal and financial safety. I will be calling my ISP today, and asking them about this issue. Barring a good response, I may no longer be here, soon. Still, I need to un-register my online existence. I do not wish to have ghost traces for others to use in my absence and in my name. Blogging has been fun, but this type of intrusion is not. How can I tell? When I am doing something on my machine and the key strokes are two or three behind my actual typing, when my mouse is unresponsive for spits and spats, when one of my various email accounts are “busy” when I check e-mail yet my connection is on and crystal through the browser, and when settings on my computer change, changes I did not introduce. Even in Microsoft Word, though I keep setting the thing to not capitalize letters at what it sees as the beginning of sentences, it keeps turning back to that. Lots of evidence, little insight, both equal a surety of insecurity.
Oh, an update on my apology letter. I have received a letter from my former (on her part) friend. She is “discerning” the matter. I can understand that. Perhaps we are poison to each other. Then again, what friend can a rattle snake expect but a pit viper? No, she is not a pit viper and I am not a rattle snake (mostly, ha, I crack me up), only perhaps to each other? We have both dug in deep, but in different directions, for different reasons. We are entrenched, surrounded, out-gunned, against it, and often. Sometimes in some places, it is difficult to know friend from foe, and that is more difficult when we are not even sure we are friend. Call words, passwords, hails, and sing-alongs work only until bullets begin to fly, and we go past exhaustion, pain, hunger, thirst, and home-sickness. Having “treated” our mind to their toxins, everyone becomes the enemy. This, oddly, is why I try to maintain this relationship. Not to prove that this is not true for me, only to try to reach beyond it. To show love to one who may hold a dagger, meant for my jugular, in her off hand. Maybe it is socially and personally suicidal, maybe though, it is purely hopeful, loving, and giving to another who knows my world, if across the sex, mind, and heart aisle. Yes, I did say I try to proceed innocently, even armed with seeming foreknowledge from past realities. Perhaps I deserve what I get, perhaps I created the dilemma, but I can only go from here, the place I am, nyet? I do live in fear and oddly hope, partly for the promise of a beautifully horrific death. I believe it is mine for the living. I do not believe my death will be easy or nice, hopefully though, my death will have meaning, real meaning.
All in all, life is still good. Bothered, lonely, threatened, and against it, I am actually comfortable here. Struggling to learn, fighting to be free and private, but quite happy to have the opportunity. I still see and know love, for others and between others. I still have hope, if doubtful, hope wins easily. I still love puppies and kittens, pretty women well but good women better, fast cars, rock and roll, men as allies and potential brothers-in-arms, and good company (oh, and that dratted pipe, and a snifter of fine scotch, oh, and a few other goodies). As well, I am with God, as I know how. He is with me, when I can know or not, and whether I am being right or not. Even if He is not my Santa, that is not why I worship Him, so that is good too. I am home, with Him, if not a home that is in step with a modern world. All is good, and it is always a good day to die because of it.
Be hale, be kind, be loving. If you do not have that in you, know I lend what of it I own freely, save for the fee of sharing these gifts as you may.
I love coffee, and all that the drink entails.
Mood swings to the nearly divine positive
and a tail spin not unrelated to obverse mania,
unitl another cup or, and better, carafe is proffered.
In heaven, I will drink only fresh fine coffee.
Which, like on earth, in heaven, I will share.
Come to my fire, sit in my simple mud hut,
but bring your own cup, I will not be in a mansion.
Given grace, knowledge, and wisdom, true and pure.
Having a body that works and a mind that is unfettered.
I will then be what I am and my servant will be true.
That servant will be me, and that servant will serve you.
Ok, I’ll stop there. I just had to try. I will never ever be a poet. And, I write poetry to prove it. I wonder if that is why atheists do what they do? Oh well, I do not understand anything well, it seems. At least I enjoy what ignorance remains to me and the clueless nature of the innocence I can muster as I proceed forward into what I know to be a harsh reality. Whistling past the graves? No. Embracing the whole nature of it all, with hope if with certainty, sincerely, and in good faith? Perhaps. That is my choice if not my way.
Today, the locks, tomorrow, the world? Well, something of that nature. The new locks have been installed. I have learned another trick or two about home security measures. And, I am using some of my old techniques to ensure security. Do not worry, none of the lethal means are being employed lest an innocent be harmed. The guilty, I do not care. Still, this is supposed to be a civil world to which I returned home. And, by heaven, I will still kill to keep it that way. I said I try to be good guy, not a nice guy.
I am still upset, however. Even after having “cared for” my computer, I find that it is compromised. Whatever is doing this is not showing up in anti-virus and anti-spy-ware software (top of the line, so it is said, and from two different companies), so it is merely better than the detection or using a method that is not in the detection line-up. Government work? Doubtful. First, I have no doubt the government bots are at work, these have been unobtrusive and tasteful. Well, we are at war, think about it. Even G.I. mail has been and probably is monitored. Why would I be so special to be unfettered, as a civilian? Beyond, I hope they are using these methods and leaving political correctness out of doing serious work. I do suspect who and how I am being hacked, I just do not have the means of detecting, tracing back, so, knowing with certainty. Further, I am sure that whatever hardware or software I purchase or install, it will not matter. After looking very closely at the security of routers and Linux, I realize that a determined hacker can and will break my system. Further, I believe the hacking is top grade. Lastly, I believe I am on some hacker’s short list. Privacy is lost to me, and to any who disagree, I do believe. I am really considering going off-line at this point. It is not necessarily about privacy, but personal and financial safety. I will be calling my ISP today, and asking them about this issue. Barring a good response, I may no longer be here, soon. Still, I need to un-register my online existence. I do not wish to have ghost traces for others to use in my absence and in my name. Blogging has been fun, but this type of intrusion is not. How can I tell? When I am doing something on my machine and the key strokes are two or three behind my actual typing, when my mouse is unresponsive for spits and spats, when one of my various email accounts are “busy” when I check e-mail yet my connection is on and crystal through the browser, and when settings on my computer change, changes I did not introduce. Even in Microsoft Word, though I keep setting the thing to not capitalize letters at what it sees as the beginning of sentences, it keeps turning back to that. Lots of evidence, little insight, both equal a surety of insecurity.
Oh, an update on my apology letter. I have received a letter from my former (on her part) friend. She is “discerning” the matter. I can understand that. Perhaps we are poison to each other. Then again, what friend can a rattle snake expect but a pit viper? No, she is not a pit viper and I am not a rattle snake (mostly, ha, I crack me up), only perhaps to each other? We have both dug in deep, but in different directions, for different reasons. We are entrenched, surrounded, out-gunned, against it, and often. Sometimes in some places, it is difficult to know friend from foe, and that is more difficult when we are not even sure we are friend. Call words, passwords, hails, and sing-alongs work only until bullets begin to fly, and we go past exhaustion, pain, hunger, thirst, and home-sickness. Having “treated” our mind to their toxins, everyone becomes the enemy. This, oddly, is why I try to maintain this relationship. Not to prove that this is not true for me, only to try to reach beyond it. To show love to one who may hold a dagger, meant for my jugular, in her off hand. Maybe it is socially and personally suicidal, maybe though, it is purely hopeful, loving, and giving to another who knows my world, if across the sex, mind, and heart aisle. Yes, I did say I try to proceed innocently, even armed with seeming foreknowledge from past realities. Perhaps I deserve what I get, perhaps I created the dilemma, but I can only go from here, the place I am, nyet? I do live in fear and oddly hope, partly for the promise of a beautifully horrific death. I believe it is mine for the living. I do not believe my death will be easy or nice, hopefully though, my death will have meaning, real meaning.
All in all, life is still good. Bothered, lonely, threatened, and against it, I am actually comfortable here. Struggling to learn, fighting to be free and private, but quite happy to have the opportunity. I still see and know love, for others and between others. I still have hope, if doubtful, hope wins easily. I still love puppies and kittens, pretty women well but good women better, fast cars, rock and roll, men as allies and potential brothers-in-arms, and good company (oh, and that dratted pipe, and a snifter of fine scotch, oh, and a few other goodies). As well, I am with God, as I know how. He is with me, when I can know or not, and whether I am being right or not. Even if He is not my Santa, that is not why I worship Him, so that is good too. I am home, with Him, if not a home that is in step with a modern world. All is good, and it is always a good day to die because of it.
Be hale, be kind, be loving. If you do not have that in you, know I lend what of it I own freely, save for the fee of sharing these gifts as you may.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
The Debate
I am not understanding some things, so I began having a ‘thought discussion’ with one who disagrees with certain ideas and beliefs I hold deeply. This other is a friend, I believe, though certainly from my point of view. I decided to blog the thing, both to get it straight in my mind and to put it forth for review. Some of this discussion is based upon real discussions, other parts are fictional.
When discussing morality, my friend indicated he believes in morality. So, I asked for a definition of morality. Well, he thought and then said, it is doing good, or the right thing. Ok, but that does not really codify the topic. Is there a set of principles by which you base this goodness or righteousness on, or is it merely what you perceive at any given moment? Well, it seems, one just knows these things, he suggests. So, is it your parents who give these data to you, or the world at large, your peers, and with confliction of notion, how do you decide which data is true. The conversation ended without any clarification, merely a restatement that one not only should but must do the right thing.
I saw no reason to further examine the definition of goodness, so I moved to the source of goodness, or the source of the knowledge of rightness. I posited that, without a unique source of knowledge and certainty about what is good and right, this knowledge really is based on individual perceptions (which are flawed and malleable, go watch a magician then imagine how much “magic” is happening outside of said shows) and upon one’s own self interest (which is worse than even perception). Courts could not do their work, laws could not be upheld, and teachers could not teach without some clearly defined moral goals, processes, and means of enactment (as can clearly be seen in our modern world, though that is another topic) if everything was based purely upon perception and self interest. If I robbed a bank and took $30,000 dollars in the process, was caught, brought in, and tried, I could easily say that the bank itself lost no money, it was other people’s money and insured at that. The other people, all told, lost only a fraction of my gain. Further, the insurance covering the bank lost no money as it makes more in profits than losses (otherwise it would be bankrupt and replaced). Therefore, the greater good of the one, my gain, outweighs the very minor if existent losses of the many. I would have to be set free, the stolen money returned (with interest, I would not be a charitable bank robber, business is business), and I would expect an apology in the mail. Right?
I might suggest, as he is a programmer, that he understand that a library is not only a good way to go, but in many cases, it is the only way to go. If one is writing a complex program with which to control a device, one is not ever given the money, time, and man-labor to create some of the more complex mathematical process subroutines which might be required. Beyond, they have already been created, often it is hoped, by truly competent mathematicians dedicated to the area within the art which is required for the system. Why, if such is being done for simple appliances, would this library concept not be done for something vastly more complex, that is, life? And this would be true, regardless if their was a God or not, it would be presumed.
My point is, if he really does believe in doing the right thing, he must have a source of correctness that is not habited within him, or within any collective group of people, or anything else which is changeable, variable, flawed, or losable. It must be from a source outside of that. Barring God, all other things we know fail to sustain any such permanency. Further, from the few things he did indicate were good, I suggested that these were Christian based, some dating to the Jewish faith. I asked why he and his non-believing cohorts had not arrived at their own principles of good and evil, written a book, and developed a following based on even simple principles (say, Confucianism) which lasted any significant time or where sustainable in all environments.
I suggested that every attempt to create such a system failed, to be remanded to history, and every attempt at legalizing morality (with or without well meaning or poorly proposed invocations of God) failed, and miserably. The more stringently enforced, such as communism, socialism, feminism, Islam, Calvinism (the first police state, Protestantism meets (creates?) socialism perhaps), and others all failed or are about to fail, yet have left un-Godly amounts of pain, social chaos, torture, murder, and mass murder in their wake. Some have been so atrocious that they are being unwritten as we speak (try to find pictures of the U.S.S.R.’s horrors on the web, look up Stalin in many dictionaries… a state leader of the former U.S.S.R.).
I did have another thought. He doubts God because of tests and trials, evil in the world, and the darkness that comes for him at times. I sense this, see it clearly, and know it myself. I would suggest this, though. As we entertain a difficult and arduous education, are we not paying very good money to be very sorely tested? Are we not groveling before books and writing on reams of paper in the hopes of a simple understanding and functional use? Could we possibly be doing this merely for money? No, we are doing what we can, probably should, and to be right with a world. We are gaining mastery to become new scientific artists based on a truth that if you can, you might have a moral obligation to do so. If we do this for the material world, why would we expect less from an extra-worldly teacher, especially our immortal Father? Perhaps I cannot always see why I should know the pains, doubts, troubles, and toils I know, but my faith that my Father has a reason for this, and my loving faith in my “brother” cum Savior to save me in spite of myself never fails. If I must cry to him at times, whether at times I fear Father so speak to “Brother”, or am angry at “Brother” so seek the Spirit, this does not diminish the full truth. And, yes, I am tested most sorely, I am beset, I cannot trust many who I give honest trust, yet I can trust that being my best is worthy if only to God.
I do not worry for him, or his. I do hope he finds his way home. It is cold out there. It is alone. It is evil, and often. Even in the fold, our hands, eyes, and perception may deceive us should we fall to sloth, lust, greed, or the others. Yet within the fold, it is easier and quicker to sense error and correct it. And to know we can only correct our own erroneous ways. I hope all find a home, or at least the capacity for good, love in it’s purer form, and perhaps see rightness as it is, not as the candy stores of Ought to Be.
Be well.
When discussing morality, my friend indicated he believes in morality. So, I asked for a definition of morality. Well, he thought and then said, it is doing good, or the right thing. Ok, but that does not really codify the topic. Is there a set of principles by which you base this goodness or righteousness on, or is it merely what you perceive at any given moment? Well, it seems, one just knows these things, he suggests. So, is it your parents who give these data to you, or the world at large, your peers, and with confliction of notion, how do you decide which data is true. The conversation ended without any clarification, merely a restatement that one not only should but must do the right thing.
I saw no reason to further examine the definition of goodness, so I moved to the source of goodness, or the source of the knowledge of rightness. I posited that, without a unique source of knowledge and certainty about what is good and right, this knowledge really is based on individual perceptions (which are flawed and malleable, go watch a magician then imagine how much “magic” is happening outside of said shows) and upon one’s own self interest (which is worse than even perception). Courts could not do their work, laws could not be upheld, and teachers could not teach without some clearly defined moral goals, processes, and means of enactment (as can clearly be seen in our modern world, though that is another topic) if everything was based purely upon perception and self interest. If I robbed a bank and took $30,000 dollars in the process, was caught, brought in, and tried, I could easily say that the bank itself lost no money, it was other people’s money and insured at that. The other people, all told, lost only a fraction of my gain. Further, the insurance covering the bank lost no money as it makes more in profits than losses (otherwise it would be bankrupt and replaced). Therefore, the greater good of the one, my gain, outweighs the very minor if existent losses of the many. I would have to be set free, the stolen money returned (with interest, I would not be a charitable bank robber, business is business), and I would expect an apology in the mail. Right?
I might suggest, as he is a programmer, that he understand that a library is not only a good way to go, but in many cases, it is the only way to go. If one is writing a complex program with which to control a device, one is not ever given the money, time, and man-labor to create some of the more complex mathematical process subroutines which might be required. Beyond, they have already been created, often it is hoped, by truly competent mathematicians dedicated to the area within the art which is required for the system. Why, if such is being done for simple appliances, would this library concept not be done for something vastly more complex, that is, life? And this would be true, regardless if their was a God or not, it would be presumed.
My point is, if he really does believe in doing the right thing, he must have a source of correctness that is not habited within him, or within any collective group of people, or anything else which is changeable, variable, flawed, or losable. It must be from a source outside of that. Barring God, all other things we know fail to sustain any such permanency. Further, from the few things he did indicate were good, I suggested that these were Christian based, some dating to the Jewish faith. I asked why he and his non-believing cohorts had not arrived at their own principles of good and evil, written a book, and developed a following based on even simple principles (say, Confucianism) which lasted any significant time or where sustainable in all environments.
I suggested that every attempt to create such a system failed, to be remanded to history, and every attempt at legalizing morality (with or without well meaning or poorly proposed invocations of God) failed, and miserably. The more stringently enforced, such as communism, socialism, feminism, Islam, Calvinism (the first police state, Protestantism meets (creates?) socialism perhaps), and others all failed or are about to fail, yet have left un-Godly amounts of pain, social chaos, torture, murder, and mass murder in their wake. Some have been so atrocious that they are being unwritten as we speak (try to find pictures of the U.S.S.R.’s horrors on the web, look up Stalin in many dictionaries… a state leader of the former U.S.S.R.).
I did have another thought. He doubts God because of tests and trials, evil in the world, and the darkness that comes for him at times. I sense this, see it clearly, and know it myself. I would suggest this, though. As we entertain a difficult and arduous education, are we not paying very good money to be very sorely tested? Are we not groveling before books and writing on reams of paper in the hopes of a simple understanding and functional use? Could we possibly be doing this merely for money? No, we are doing what we can, probably should, and to be right with a world. We are gaining mastery to become new scientific artists based on a truth that if you can, you might have a moral obligation to do so. If we do this for the material world, why would we expect less from an extra-worldly teacher, especially our immortal Father? Perhaps I cannot always see why I should know the pains, doubts, troubles, and toils I know, but my faith that my Father has a reason for this, and my loving faith in my “brother” cum Savior to save me in spite of myself never fails. If I must cry to him at times, whether at times I fear Father so speak to “Brother”, or am angry at “Brother” so seek the Spirit, this does not diminish the full truth. And, yes, I am tested most sorely, I am beset, I cannot trust many who I give honest trust, yet I can trust that being my best is worthy if only to God.
I do not worry for him, or his. I do hope he finds his way home. It is cold out there. It is alone. It is evil, and often. Even in the fold, our hands, eyes, and perception may deceive us should we fall to sloth, lust, greed, or the others. Yet within the fold, it is easier and quicker to sense error and correct it. And to know we can only correct our own erroneous ways. I hope all find a home, or at least the capacity for good, love in it’s purer form, and perhaps see rightness as it is, not as the candy stores of Ought to Be.
Be well.
How dare they?
Well, in mho, they nailed this one.
Hmmm, two out of two.
Yes, I know, silly. However, since these have pointed out things I believe to be true, or within my perceptions, I decided to share them. If it is not what you see, perhaps it allows you to see what I see. It should also be said, that though I believe I am a natural leader, I shirk this odious duty. Between seeing what can happen with the best leaders, the visibility to myself of my own foibles, and my perceived personal natural raw power... I decline, save in dire straights, to step up to that plate.
Your Love Type: ENFP |
 The Inspirer In love, you are passionate and eager to develop a strong bond. For you, sex should be playful, creative, and affectionate. Overall, you are perceptive and bring out the best in your partner. However, you tend to hold on to bad relationships after they've turned bad. Best matches: INTJ and INFJ |
Hmmm, two out of two.
You Are An ENTJ |
 The Executive You are a natural leader - with confidence and strength that inspires others. Driven to succeed, you are always looking for ways to gain, power, knowledge, and expertise. Sometimes you aren't the most considerate person, especially to those who are a bit slow. You are not easily intimidated - and you have a commanding, awe-inspiring presence. In love, you hold high standards... for yourself, for your relationship, and for your significant other. While it's easy for you to impress others, it's hard for you to find someone who impresses you. At work, you are organized and good at delegating. You understand how to achieve goals. You would make a great CEO, entrepreneur, or consultant. How you see yourself: Rational, calm, and objective When other people don't get you, they see you as: Inflexible, controlling, and overbearing |
Yes, I know, silly. However, since these have pointed out things I believe to be true, or within my perceptions, I decided to share them. If it is not what you see, perhaps it allows you to see what I see. It should also be said, that though I believe I am a natural leader, I shirk this odious duty. Between seeing what can happen with the best leaders, the visibility to myself of my own foibles, and my perceived personal natural raw power... I decline, save in dire straights, to step up to that plate.
Premonition or mood?
I just had one of the most intense sensations. That which I have spoke of, trouble, seems to be closer at hand than I had anticipated. I sense that the time-table I gave is woefully optimistic. What I sensed was specific, though I will keep that for myself. As well, I do not believe it is the final straw, only the first. As far as how soon, I should just say I hope I have until this summer to clear out. I am more than a little nervous.
That said, I have cleared my mind of it. By writing it, I have set it aside. I am no prophet, I am just awake. Perhaps I am wrong and this is just a mood. The down side is that, until I had this “notion” pass over and through me, I had been in a rather favorable mood. What a waste. And, given human nature, it is probably just the wrong food last night, too much sugar, or caffeine, or whatever. Still, I cannot shake it. I am not even particularly tired or distressed today, until this.
School is going along. I seem unable to focus well, and my quizzes have been getting worse. I need to get this back in the bag, as it where, and focus again. I have a test coming up Monday, and then the final is 16 days after that, I believe. There is not a lot of time and there is a lot of material, such are finals.
I am still considering some of the security measures. I will be getting the new locks installed Friday, the locking gas cap has cut my fuel costs in half, and I am considering applying for a credit card for several things, including a more secure online system and router. This has drained me, and it certainly does not help my concentration. But then, people have to deal with these things from time to time, as a matter of course.
In the briefest of moments,
I saw what will come.
The pain, the grief, the doubt,
like the morning mist,
burn away to a glorious day.
Not all will know,
not all have chosen.
I have been called,
and have approached.
Is that enough?
It arrives,
in time.
It was,
as it was,
as it is.
That said, I have cleared my mind of it. By writing it, I have set it aside. I am no prophet, I am just awake. Perhaps I am wrong and this is just a mood. The down side is that, until I had this “notion” pass over and through me, I had been in a rather favorable mood. What a waste. And, given human nature, it is probably just the wrong food last night, too much sugar, or caffeine, or whatever. Still, I cannot shake it. I am not even particularly tired or distressed today, until this.
School is going along. I seem unable to focus well, and my quizzes have been getting worse. I need to get this back in the bag, as it where, and focus again. I have a test coming up Monday, and then the final is 16 days after that, I believe. There is not a lot of time and there is a lot of material, such are finals.
I am still considering some of the security measures. I will be getting the new locks installed Friday, the locking gas cap has cut my fuel costs in half, and I am considering applying for a credit card for several things, including a more secure online system and router. This has drained me, and it certainly does not help my concentration. But then, people have to deal with these things from time to time, as a matter of course.
In the briefest of moments,
I saw what will come.
The pain, the grief, the doubt,
like the morning mist,
burn away to a glorious day.
Not all will know,
not all have chosen.
I have been called,
and have approached.
Is that enough?
It arrives,
in time.
It was,
as it was,
as it is.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Oh well...
I thought about not putting this up, but... Though the truth hurt, it is better to be known than to live a lie. Though I keep saying, "I'm not a writer.", "I write for me.", etc., I had some hope that I actually could write. Well, I'll have to "write for me" I guess.
Cash Advance Loans
Fallen From Grace…
What is Evil? In the Christian sense, it would most easily be defined as being without God. In Buddhism, it might be described by a dark karma. In Zen, it might be declared as having the taint of worldliness. But in the modern secular world we live in, the majority world in spite of Christian lip service, it is most closely associated with a lack of achievement. If nothing else, this defines one of the secular mortal sins. The attainment of wealth, power, or prestige are the graces of this new order (it is actually quite an ancient system, it just seems new as it rotates in and out of power and favor, dancing in, around, and sometimes amorally with morality based power systems). In this current paradigm, I have fallen from grace. I will never attain, and far from just sinning, I am in a static state of secular sin. I am, in essence, dead to the world, for it’s part.
There are many such as myself, if we are the vast minority. Cripples, of various sorts, that is what I am, of this I thusly write. There are few, however, with my capacity to think, my ability to see well that which is around me, the voice to speak of that which I think and see, and the means (financial support) such that I do not need to beg and live under a bridge, though that is becoming more difficult. Living under a bridge, or in my case, in a forest, is being brought on by an understanding that broken things are not welcome. Further, broken things which do not then bend to secular “truths” have become an abomination in current trends. If I am not strong enough to enact my will yet unwilling to bend, I will be attacked, in many ways, by what is left of society. Fortunately, I remain too strong to kill, outright, too cagey to be tricked or trapped, probably, and not really reachable by their other special case methods.
It would be nice to have a community. A community of the broken. Those who have been rag dolls in the storms of reality. A place for the beaten and torn, abused, misused, traumatized, and shamed. However, I could find that under the bridge. So, it really needs to be more. I guess I am looking for the other gothics. The artistic intelligent aware moral (if confused about morality, a tiny bit) individuals who have become what we are, not as a form of social disregard or counter-culture boutique, but because it is simply who we are. I do not think most of us just decided to go medieval retro, most of us were sensitive individuals who were given no space for that. I have known war and sex since before I was in school, yet this was not my nature, not my inner nature. The memory of having sex with a particular girl when I was six while thinking about infinity pops up in my mind, once in a while. Probably because the thing is so off. My flesh fit well in a brutal carnal world, a world I learned accidentally to transcend. It is coming back together, now. I no longer truly transcend, blind to the beast I inhabit and it’s tedious and potentially psychically torturous-to-me “wet works” de jour. Now it is more like a floaty thing. I am aware, but, mostly, inured and passive. I trust it to do it’s thing rightly and morally, it trusts me to not interfere and to be able to cope (finally, I’m am back at my own “big people’s table”), and life has become easier. Still, having friends who have some comprehension would be a kindness. Having friends who understand just a smidgen my way because of the road they have traveled. People I would not have to fear saying what I what I believe because of their shock or having something be so far out of their range they cannot go there, yet people who would not be against saying something I see or believe is indeed wrong, and discussing, perhaps agreeing to table unresolved, and yet speak again on the topic or others. People who, like me, are really looking at tearing down the lies (our own, the worlds, and the secrets that bind them), finding the real truths, and looking at things in a sophisticated yet childlike manner. A place to start living that gentler life I was by nature designed toward, with the understanding that that nature was terribly interrupted. Yes, there are the brutish hedonists, the occult lost, and the under-the-bridge crowd, but is there not a moral or moral seeking community of the lost? Can there not be one of these? Or, in absolute truth, have I completely fallen from the graces of a completely fallen world?
Hmmm, Doom’s Club for the Secular Damned? Doom’s Upper-Crust Drop-Outs? Doom’s Doomed Forever, and Damned (Mad About It)? Hey, I am not a poet! Nor a writer. I just play one on the internet.
There are many such as myself, if we are the vast minority. Cripples, of various sorts, that is what I am, of this I thusly write. There are few, however, with my capacity to think, my ability to see well that which is around me, the voice to speak of that which I think and see, and the means (financial support) such that I do not need to beg and live under a bridge, though that is becoming more difficult. Living under a bridge, or in my case, in a forest, is being brought on by an understanding that broken things are not welcome. Further, broken things which do not then bend to secular “truths” have become an abomination in current trends. If I am not strong enough to enact my will yet unwilling to bend, I will be attacked, in many ways, by what is left of society. Fortunately, I remain too strong to kill, outright, too cagey to be tricked or trapped, probably, and not really reachable by their other special case methods.
It would be nice to have a community. A community of the broken. Those who have been rag dolls in the storms of reality. A place for the beaten and torn, abused, misused, traumatized, and shamed. However, I could find that under the bridge. So, it really needs to be more. I guess I am looking for the other gothics. The artistic intelligent aware moral (if confused about morality, a tiny bit) individuals who have become what we are, not as a form of social disregard or counter-culture boutique, but because it is simply who we are. I do not think most of us just decided to go medieval retro, most of us were sensitive individuals who were given no space for that. I have known war and sex since before I was in school, yet this was not my nature, not my inner nature. The memory of having sex with a particular girl when I was six while thinking about infinity pops up in my mind, once in a while. Probably because the thing is so off. My flesh fit well in a brutal carnal world, a world I learned accidentally to transcend. It is coming back together, now. I no longer truly transcend, blind to the beast I inhabit and it’s tedious and potentially psychically torturous-to-me “wet works” de jour. Now it is more like a floaty thing. I am aware, but, mostly, inured and passive. I trust it to do it’s thing rightly and morally, it trusts me to not interfere and to be able to cope (finally, I’m am back at my own “big people’s table”), and life has become easier. Still, having friends who have some comprehension would be a kindness. Having friends who understand just a smidgen my way because of the road they have traveled. People I would not have to fear saying what I what I believe because of their shock or having something be so far out of their range they cannot go there, yet people who would not be against saying something I see or believe is indeed wrong, and discussing, perhaps agreeing to table unresolved, and yet speak again on the topic or others. People who, like me, are really looking at tearing down the lies (our own, the worlds, and the secrets that bind them), finding the real truths, and looking at things in a sophisticated yet childlike manner. A place to start living that gentler life I was by nature designed toward, with the understanding that that nature was terribly interrupted. Yes, there are the brutish hedonists, the occult lost, and the under-the-bridge crowd, but is there not a moral or moral seeking community of the lost? Can there not be one of these? Or, in absolute truth, have I completely fallen from the graces of a completely fallen world?
Hmmm, Doom’s Club for the Secular Damned? Doom’s Upper-Crust Drop-Outs? Doom’s Doomed Forever, and Damned (Mad About It)? Hey, I am not a poet! Nor a writer. I just play one on the internet.
Monday, November 12, 2007
A conclusion?
Or two.
I have been considering the world, myself, my place in the world, among men, and how all that works. I have come to two conclusions. The first is that the whole world, the universe, even all other men, to include women and children, and all of the nature of these peoples, animals, places and things were created uniquely for me. Indeed, the universe does revolve about me. Startling, but I believe that to be true. The second conclusion is that, in all of these things I just discussed, I am irrelevant. I am unsure if this irrelevancy is based on the first fact, which makes some odd sense when weighed in totality, more on that later, or if it is a singular and dual truth, created in opposition to the first truth, for it’s own purposes, or for some other unspecified reason. Yet, I stand by both of these statements as fact.
When I say creation was tailored to me, I do not mean that everything is for me. What I do mean is that everything I come in contact with, whether it be the waitress at my favored breakfast stop or some man on the street with whom I share some moment. Even if the woman or the man merely catches my attention as interesting or threatening, one they do not intend, understand, share, or even realize, they are doing exactly as intended and do just what it was they do, knowingly or not and beyond the simple self knowledge they might own about the incident. As well, how I react is rather mechanical, how I choose to act based on that reaction, however, is my own. Will, in the end, I choose to do right when it opposes my simple best interest, will I choose to do what could and would be expected from a natural course of events, or will I choose to take such advantage that I essential “cheat the game”? Oddly, I do believe the “game” will allow me to do each, often with little or no resistance, in truth. I know what I want to do, I know I do not always do it, and I know I cannot count the deeds, good, “neutral”, and bad. I am pretty sure, however, that statistic is a known quantity.
In spite of this, nothing I do or say will change, one iota, that which will be. It is like being in a play where all the roles are divvied, each actor is dressed and readied, each knows their part. Improvisation does exist, seeming accident and illness creates gaps which are filled well or poorly, yet it is built into the system so that no character may radically alter what will happen. No one can take the stage who does not belong. And the show must go on. It is a play, written for me, which I star in, and yet have no ability to truly alter even knowing these things. It may be that the universe being designed for me makes it so that I do not have an affect on it. It might be like a pivot point, everything spins about that, yet the point itself is somehow free from work, motion, or even actual action in spite of being the element about which the event it realizes is based. Or, urhm, something like that. Or perhaps it is simply as if being a star in the play, I am watching a recording of the event, as if before, with full memory. I know when this stumble will occur, yet can do nothing, I know when that dropped line will happen, but nothing I say can change it. Odd, now that I think about, it seems as if I HAVE seen this thing before, though my memory of the play isn’t fresh. It seems I only have a general feel, an indistinct notion of the next bit, an overview. Wish I could remember the stock reports at least! Still, it might just be for other reasons that one has no real power. A prime one is that, even as a child of God, even as a willing servant to God, I yet have none of my inheritance, therefore, no real power. It is written that faith can move mountains, yet what faithful has done so? Without the will of God to carry it, such will not, yet, be done.
This seemingly mutually excluding nature of reality seems impossible, like splitting hairs into an octet of fibers with your pocket knife. And, so it is. I cannot say that one can then split hairs as such, however, I am saying that perception of possibility and actual possibility are not always as they seem. At one time it was considered bio-mechanically impossible for a man to run a 4 minute mile. High school athletes do that, now. Heck, some woman might have done it? It is a troubling set of notions, however. Perhaps like being the king of nowhere, a legitimate king with no land, subjects, or power. And that, I believe, is the truth. Where does it lead, what does it mean, how can that work? I think it is rather simple if one simply “goes long”. Do not look for your kingdom in this time or place any more than you would have looked for your first steak and glass of wine in the womb. Wait, it comes. Oh, maintaining some humility about the thing might also be wise.
I have been considering the world, myself, my place in the world, among men, and how all that works. I have come to two conclusions. The first is that the whole world, the universe, even all other men, to include women and children, and all of the nature of these peoples, animals, places and things were created uniquely for me. Indeed, the universe does revolve about me. Startling, but I believe that to be true. The second conclusion is that, in all of these things I just discussed, I am irrelevant. I am unsure if this irrelevancy is based on the first fact, which makes some odd sense when weighed in totality, more on that later, or if it is a singular and dual truth, created in opposition to the first truth, for it’s own purposes, or for some other unspecified reason. Yet, I stand by both of these statements as fact.
When I say creation was tailored to me, I do not mean that everything is for me. What I do mean is that everything I come in contact with, whether it be the waitress at my favored breakfast stop or some man on the street with whom I share some moment. Even if the woman or the man merely catches my attention as interesting or threatening, one they do not intend, understand, share, or even realize, they are doing exactly as intended and do just what it was they do, knowingly or not and beyond the simple self knowledge they might own about the incident. As well, how I react is rather mechanical, how I choose to act based on that reaction, however, is my own. Will, in the end, I choose to do right when it opposes my simple best interest, will I choose to do what could and would be expected from a natural course of events, or will I choose to take such advantage that I essential “cheat the game”? Oddly, I do believe the “game” will allow me to do each, often with little or no resistance, in truth. I know what I want to do, I know I do not always do it, and I know I cannot count the deeds, good, “neutral”, and bad. I am pretty sure, however, that statistic is a known quantity.
In spite of this, nothing I do or say will change, one iota, that which will be. It is like being in a play where all the roles are divvied, each actor is dressed and readied, each knows their part. Improvisation does exist, seeming accident and illness creates gaps which are filled well or poorly, yet it is built into the system so that no character may radically alter what will happen. No one can take the stage who does not belong. And the show must go on. It is a play, written for me, which I star in, and yet have no ability to truly alter even knowing these things. It may be that the universe being designed for me makes it so that I do not have an affect on it. It might be like a pivot point, everything spins about that, yet the point itself is somehow free from work, motion, or even actual action in spite of being the element about which the event it realizes is based. Or, urhm, something like that. Or perhaps it is simply as if being a star in the play, I am watching a recording of the event, as if before, with full memory. I know when this stumble will occur, yet can do nothing, I know when that dropped line will happen, but nothing I say can change it. Odd, now that I think about, it seems as if I HAVE seen this thing before, though my memory of the play isn’t fresh. It seems I only have a general feel, an indistinct notion of the next bit, an overview. Wish I could remember the stock reports at least! Still, it might just be for other reasons that one has no real power. A prime one is that, even as a child of God, even as a willing servant to God, I yet have none of my inheritance, therefore, no real power. It is written that faith can move mountains, yet what faithful has done so? Without the will of God to carry it, such will not, yet, be done.
This seemingly mutually excluding nature of reality seems impossible, like splitting hairs into an octet of fibers with your pocket knife. And, so it is. I cannot say that one can then split hairs as such, however, I am saying that perception of possibility and actual possibility are not always as they seem. At one time it was considered bio-mechanically impossible for a man to run a 4 minute mile. High school athletes do that, now. Heck, some woman might have done it? It is a troubling set of notions, however. Perhaps like being the king of nowhere, a legitimate king with no land, subjects, or power. And that, I believe, is the truth. Where does it lead, what does it mean, how can that work? I think it is rather simple if one simply “goes long”. Do not look for your kingdom in this time or place any more than you would have looked for your first steak and glass of wine in the womb. Wait, it comes. Oh, maintaining some humility about the thing might also be wise.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Ha, I am not paranoid!
Well, not in this case. What a relief, almost. What am I talking about, you ask? I have been writing about my suspicion that someone has been getting into my house. I have been pointing fingers and chewing on the fat of what I know and sense in order to find with a certainty the truth of these things. I just do not have the money for a camera system and the requisite controller software and connective resources (cords, wireless transmitters, power sources, etc.). However, I have some vindication. My neighbor, one of the initial suspects has not been driving much lately. They used to be gone all the time, the car never home. This was true to such an extent that they had bought another vehicle. Since I put my locking gas cap in, kept all (real) cash on my person, and manually secured my doors while sleeping, not only does their new used car sit, their original newer car hasn’t been out of the driveway. Now, I think they are still getting into my house, but there isn’t much here (my coin container has been slowly emptying. I haven’t been buying groceries, and I’ve been keeping an eye on my better goods. As well, before I leave the house again, I will have new “very difficult to pick” top of the line deadbolts on my doors, while I’ve nailed shut the crawl-space entrance, and ensured other means of entrance are unavailable.
You know, it would almost be better if I had been wrong. Oh, a little egg on the face is good for spiritual hair growth and shine, now and again, anyway. And, though I would have felt bad, it would have been better than having my worst suspicions, once again, proved out. Men (to include women) are mostly not able to pass the dog poop muster… that is, comparing the two, dog poop comes out as better because it only stinks, and only makes you smell bad if you step in it… men are pro-actively bad smelling, in many ways, plus they move around making avoidance a serious issue. I would love to be able to afford a camera system and have him and maybe her, thrown back in prison where they belong, but I just do not have the money. I guess all I can do is secure what I have.
Hey, I have really settled down now that I have this thing worked out. And, though it will not be over with new locks, I am slowly building up a system with which to track “visitors”, and that will give me future peace of mind. I suppose just being more sure and finding things that work, even stop gap, and getting them going, on any serious problem, is just what it takes to put life back into order.
As well, I finally hand delivered the letter I wrote to a friend who got caught up in this. Her ABSOLUTE denial that anything was missing and accusations of paranoia not only angered me, but made her a target of my considerations. Really, I should have known better. I know her, and she is a typical woman in this type of matter. She will deny rather than face a serious risk, probably up until someone is dead. She cannot handle risk assessment or management. And, as I became more sure, having someone undermine my certainty (sanity) only aggravated the paranoia and such. Seeing how these things work has allowed me to understand witch and communist hunts, better. Not that those are wrong, only that they can get out of hand if not carefully managed. As even Monty Python troops might say… “Burn the witch!”… Yeah, ok, anyway. I had to write the letter thrice, that’s two times plus one more, working out what to say which was honest, sincere, fair to me, and fair to her, true, and correct. Yes, quite a bushel basket full, when you think about it. I asked simply for forgiveness for having doubted what I should have known not to doubt (her character). And, I did ask for considerations to be reinstated as a friend, though this will be difficult. We have been friends too long to simply not try. As well, we are each alone, very alone, miserably happily alone together in the near past. Oh, blah. I have done what is right and what I could, so, for this too, I am at ease.
I have just purchased some cold weather gear, primarily several types of long underwear. I am also looking into snow pants (more waterproof, durable, insulated pants, actually), of various types. I really would like to get out and learn to cross country ski this year. I am a little nervous, as the skis I have seen are rated for 220+ and when limits are listed for them, the highest I have seen is 260. I weigh 300 pounds. With a 60 to 80 pound pack, well… What will I need, tank tracks? Being a lesser giant has some advantages, but it certainly has some drawbacks. I think my best bet is to find a rental place and speak with them (seasonal, so not available at the moment). I am quite sure they do not wish to rent skis which I will break. As well, I will be able to try out a number of different skis, bindings, boots if called for, poles, and whatnot. I am not truly interested in doing this for fun or exercise, this is just a functional knowledge for getting around when other means are unavailable. It could be a good hunting tool, camping tool, and of course, simply the best winter means of transport if trees are not too thick, densely populated, or such. It would be neat, on a snowy day in town, to go to the store, pick up my goods, and boogie before the plows finish, maybe before they start.
My mum called today. She seems to be doing well and is happy today. It is always good to hear that. She will be flying out to see my brother’s oldest daughter play a part in the Nutcracker Suite next month. I have purchased her tickets, as her Christmas gift. Or, urhm, will when my check gets there. One thing off my list. I will only have a few other gifts to buy, mostly small though perhaps one large gift is still in the cue, and I will be set for the year. Even if my friend does not accept a new beginning, I intend to buy her a (relatively) inexpensive laptop. I HAVE to add tech support, especially if we are no longer to be friends. *sigh, woman* *hmmm, at least they are pretty* I still have to consider coal and (just cotton) socks, the wool socks are outlandish these days!
Well, I should get going on a bit of study and maybe some housecleaning. My landlord, hopefully, will be by tomorrow. Have a good day, stay sane, stay safe, and I hope you have someone to tell you love. It covers a lot of ground on all those wishes I just sent. It offers a place here, like the place there, if lesser it is in the same vein.
You know, it would almost be better if I had been wrong. Oh, a little egg on the face is good for spiritual hair growth and shine, now and again, anyway. And, though I would have felt bad, it would have been better than having my worst suspicions, once again, proved out. Men (to include women) are mostly not able to pass the dog poop muster… that is, comparing the two, dog poop comes out as better because it only stinks, and only makes you smell bad if you step in it… men are pro-actively bad smelling, in many ways, plus they move around making avoidance a serious issue. I would love to be able to afford a camera system and have him and maybe her, thrown back in prison where they belong, but I just do not have the money. I guess all I can do is secure what I have.
Hey, I have really settled down now that I have this thing worked out. And, though it will not be over with new locks, I am slowly building up a system with which to track “visitors”, and that will give me future peace of mind. I suppose just being more sure and finding things that work, even stop gap, and getting them going, on any serious problem, is just what it takes to put life back into order.
As well, I finally hand delivered the letter I wrote to a friend who got caught up in this. Her ABSOLUTE denial that anything was missing and accusations of paranoia not only angered me, but made her a target of my considerations. Really, I should have known better. I know her, and she is a typical woman in this type of matter. She will deny rather than face a serious risk, probably up until someone is dead. She cannot handle risk assessment or management. And, as I became more sure, having someone undermine my certainty (sanity) only aggravated the paranoia and such. Seeing how these things work has allowed me to understand witch and communist hunts, better. Not that those are wrong, only that they can get out of hand if not carefully managed. As even Monty Python troops might say… “Burn the witch!”… Yeah, ok, anyway. I had to write the letter thrice, that’s two times plus one more, working out what to say which was honest, sincere, fair to me, and fair to her, true, and correct. Yes, quite a bushel basket full, when you think about it. I asked simply for forgiveness for having doubted what I should have known not to doubt (her character). And, I did ask for considerations to be reinstated as a friend, though this will be difficult. We have been friends too long to simply not try. As well, we are each alone, very alone, miserably happily alone together in the near past. Oh, blah. I have done what is right and what I could, so, for this too, I am at ease.
I have just purchased some cold weather gear, primarily several types of long underwear. I am also looking into snow pants (more waterproof, durable, insulated pants, actually), of various types. I really would like to get out and learn to cross country ski this year. I am a little nervous, as the skis I have seen are rated for 220+ and when limits are listed for them, the highest I have seen is 260. I weigh 300 pounds. With a 60 to 80 pound pack, well… What will I need, tank tracks? Being a lesser giant has some advantages, but it certainly has some drawbacks. I think my best bet is to find a rental place and speak with them (seasonal, so not available at the moment). I am quite sure they do not wish to rent skis which I will break. As well, I will be able to try out a number of different skis, bindings, boots if called for, poles, and whatnot. I am not truly interested in doing this for fun or exercise, this is just a functional knowledge for getting around when other means are unavailable. It could be a good hunting tool, camping tool, and of course, simply the best winter means of transport if trees are not too thick, densely populated, or such. It would be neat, on a snowy day in town, to go to the store, pick up my goods, and boogie before the plows finish, maybe before they start.
My mum called today. She seems to be doing well and is happy today. It is always good to hear that. She will be flying out to see my brother’s oldest daughter play a part in the Nutcracker Suite next month. I have purchased her tickets, as her Christmas gift. Or, urhm, will when my check gets there. One thing off my list. I will only have a few other gifts to buy, mostly small though perhaps one large gift is still in the cue, and I will be set for the year. Even if my friend does not accept a new beginning, I intend to buy her a (relatively) inexpensive laptop. I HAVE to add tech support, especially if we are no longer to be friends. *sigh, woman* *hmmm, at least they are pretty* I still have to consider coal and (just cotton) socks, the wool socks are outlandish these days!
Well, I should get going on a bit of study and maybe some housecleaning. My landlord, hopefully, will be by tomorrow. Have a good day, stay sane, stay safe, and I hope you have someone to tell you love. It covers a lot of ground on all those wishes I just sent. It offers a place here, like the place there, if lesser it is in the same vein.
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