Why so little regarding politics here?

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To be honest, because it really doesn't matter.  Hold your horses, I'm not saying the results, effects, and costs do not matter.  What I am saying is, after having czars, scandal after scandal, the obvious emasculation of the Supreme Court, bailout after federal splurge, illegal overreach by the executive branch, exploding federal deficits, and printing of money, a little thing like insurance problems isn't going to do a thing.  People, politicians, those in charge of making sure the system works, have failed so often and so spectacularly that there is no reason to believe any of the mechanisms in place to keep the system from being destroyed and turned into a tyranny from within work.  The only thing, so far, that keeps people somewhat safe from an all out tyranny is that some small, aging, part of a soon to be minority aspect of society is still armed.  If you consider it is mostly the older men of that soon-to-be minority who are armed, then you must understand time is nearly up for the America you knew.  There is no reason to become fussy about it now.  People can't even handle the truth about little things, easily seen things, how would they handle the bigger truths?

I watched a vid by a guy, a white guy, from South Africa.  He spoke of having become a modern white South African, embracing equality, but secretly fearing blacks there.  He decided to "get in touch" with blacks, and see how that worked.  So, he went and lived in their slums in his city.  He found it refreshing.  He learned to live with them and love them.  And he became an out and out reformed man.  Me?  I hope he survives the slaughter of his fellow whites, but is put in a cell where his vid is the only thing that plays, over and over, 24 hours a day.  Some things are bound for horror, decay, and death.  We all are, but we shouldn't be aiming for it.  Americans, like this man, have chosen death.  As have Europeans.  They are racing for it, giving up everything for a little fun on the way.

There is no reason to speak of politics in an obviously broken system.  So, generally, I won't.  Get used to the new paradigm.  And, to get as ahead as you can, get in line for whatever you are forced to accept.  That is what most have been doing, and continue to do, up and down the line.  Understand, the more you accept, the more will be expected of you.  What will you sell next?  What will you give up next?  There isn't a way out of this.  I saw it long ago.  That is why, more than anything, I am willing to go through hell to get back to health.  Not just so that I am not murdered by medicine, although I do have suspicions that it is... a thought on their minds, to hold costs down and shut up a dissenter, but to get out of this sinking nation before even healthy citizens are rounded up, arrested and imprisoned or outright executed for not believing what they are told to believe.  Most of you don't believe, can't believe, in spite of having watched it for the last decade.  It is coming.

Just... so you know.

Not the greatest of days, but worthier than most lately.

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I am a bit sort.  I know I slept on at least on arm wrong last night.  By the way, how can you, as I suspect, sleep on both arm wrong enough, for long enough, to have both of them out of sorts?  Gah!  I am tired, and if not exactly grumpy, at least just a bit moody this morning.  My physical and mental complaints are mild, but there are a number of them.  And I am somewhere between too tired, over slept, and unsure.  Oh, go on, laugh.  I certainly chuckle, like the baby that is unhappy but none of the normal things seems to please.  Just gotta be slightly off sometimes.

Oh, but it doesn't end there.  On days like today, and yesterday, when I can wake up about when I wanted (a little after 6:00, and without the alarm, which was set for 8:00 but I turned off after checking the time), after being awake a full day the day before, and have most of my equipment almost working?  I love waking up.  Getting to fuss a bit for non-specific reasons, if it isn't everyday, or all the time, is fine too.  If this was as good as it got, but was regular, I would take it in a heartbeat.  You... really don't know.

I haven't seen a window to get to much.  But these last few days, I keep looking for it.  Perhaps only one task will get done.  And maybe it will be days after that before the next task, maybe a week.  That IS my life.  I simply haven't quit in spite of impossible odds and probably no way to ever win.  My mind holed up in my body for so long, for whatever reasons, that my body isn't mine anymore.  It's like a vacation rental.  And when it is open I can't, even then, always take advantage of it.  I know damned well that our body is not our own.

Never mind.  I'll keep looking for that window of opportunity.  I have a few things on my list, top things.  And I'll keep trying to stay up whole days, getting to bed on time, waking up reasonably, and figuring out a bite or two of food a day.  In another time I might well be living under a bridge, warehoused in an infirmary then given meds to keep me there, who knows.  I don't have much, but I do have opportunity, free will, and am not blocked one way or the other.  Plus I haven't given up.  Later.

Not a bad day, again.

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I can't honestly remember how late I stayed up.  I know past 19:00, but how far past is anyone's guess.  I did a rough estimate, then added extra hours, in setting the alarm.  I know my goal was a 4:00 to 6:00 rise, but the alarm was set for 8:00, I think.  Which, probably, means I gave myself 12 hours to sleep.  All I can do is aim things.  Sometimes I pop out of bed and can't sleep more and very early.  Sometimes I can't wake, even with plenty of sleep and the alarm.  As was, I am pretty sure I woke at about 5:00 or so, then rolled out at about 5:30.  Must have had a little nap in there, and unusual but not quite rare thing.

I have been awake since then, making it over a twelve hour day again.  And it will go a little longer.  I will keep the porch light lit and be ready for any possible trick or treaters until... 20:00?  Something like that.  I did get a shower taken, and dressed more properly, for hosting goblins, witches, super heroes, and at least one cowboy.  Most, locally, have a "trunk-or-treat" type of deal, so not many go around.  Still, I am ready.  Handing out gobs of candy too.  Such polite kids, they just want one or two.  No, a Doom sized handful, a second if their surprised look is good enough.  I do like kids.  Plus, I got my fair share when I used to go.  I just wish I had been able to get my costume in order.  Perhaps next year.

The nice thing about a small community is that even as a bit of an outsider I am not a stranger.  Even as a strange being, a giant perhaps, there has been enough adult contact that there is no fear of this ogre.  Some of the kids even like me.  They might well make fun of me, but... been there done that.  It's how they figure things out.  It's how they compare something new to what they know.  Plus... good to be a brat once in a while.  I do it myself, if I try to cut it just a bit, mostly.  Candy and plenty of it, dollars if I run out.  Should be good this year.

I'll be up a bit, but I think I am done for the night here.  Oh, but Happy Halloween.

It's 20:35 and I am calling it.  No doorbell for 20 minutes and it is getting late.  I'll keep clothes nearby, but the light will be out so that should be that.  Then again, the great pumpkin?  A fifteen hour day?  I'll take it.  I'll also turn the alarm back to what it was and still try to get up about the same time I did this morning.  Hey, a guy can try.  Good night.

Halloween? Happy? Fine. A story.

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Smith, as he was commonly known, or Madonna in some instances among his peers, as a fine, a price, for his driven intense perfectionism, was a simple man.  At least as he saw things.  Some men seemed to be smarter, some stronger, some faster, some more crafty, and so on.  These things were not his concern.  If he need deal with such men, he simply preferred to know the difference and deal with them in another venue or at least realize he would potentially lose.  He didn't like to lose, but if it didn't impact his missions in life it wasn't so much of an issue.  Driven by the magic that drives all men, to enjoy life a bit but to do something with his life he simply did what he did the best and as well as he could.

The small life, in Mid-America, that brought him from boy to man, had taught him much.  He was a fighter, an athlete of some small renown in the smallsvilles he had lived, and a scholar at one point and should he find a reason for such.  Mostly he was looking for a place in which to carve out a life for himself, and who knows... maybe a family.  Women were easy, there was no reason to be hasty about choosing.  His life had already made him a hard man, a strong man, perhaps even a clever man.  Not a good man, perhaps, but then, who was he wondered.

He found his place, or at least a place, for the time being.  Working with other men like himself.  Focused men, interested in pulling out the stops so long as the payoff was good enough, and willing to work harder than most, learn, teach, share, and do.  The toys were good, the camaraderie was first class, travel and... women of all sorts, new and exciting, from time to time.  Training was intense but it was well within his interest and fit his personality.

In the training, when he wasn't puking from excesses, shivering for cold and in slight fear of death, or comatose in sleep from sheer exhaustion, he laughed at the notion.  Immortal, they said.  They were forging the next undying group of men, they suggested.  We will make you unstoppable.  They, or his compatriots and mockingly, memory is blurred on that, taught him lines like, "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil.  For I am the meanest son of a bitch in the valley", among others.  He took it seriously, when he wasn't laughing at the hubris.  Most of the time he laughed, until he needed it to hump the next mountain, swim the next ball-busting distance, or move some body numbing distance at speed.

He saw a bit of that life he trained to know.  Too much as it turned out.  It took the life out of him, in every way, but did not end him.  Further, something else had crept into him, a type of death.  He knew his life was over, the simple life he had wanted, the joys in life he had found, the brotherhood, even a possible woman.  All gone but him.  He sought, since the sleeping death was not ending him, to... hurry the process.  Attempt after attempt, on top of what the world and his body had thrown at him.  He simply could not, would not, die.

Then, in a terrible dream, he realized it.  He had, indeed, unlike his brothers, been made immortal.  He would never die.  No matter how wounded, or ill.  No matter his intent or folly or lack of care or what accident might befall him.  No matter his age.  He would not die.  While he had truly become the meanest son of a bitch in the valley, he became truly afraid.  For beside that, he was the only one in the valley.  Deserted and forgotten, alive and yet not.  And should he live, which he does, so it is to this very day.

Wow!

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Thirteen hours and counting.  I may try to call my mother then hit it.  I could go for more, but this is the first day, I think, that has been over eight hours, half of my "days" only being four hours, in some week(s).  I could push into pain, but I'd like to not do that today.  And I am satisfied with this.  It was natural.  Pushing it might upset the applecart.  Wonderful.

Up all day, since... 6:00?

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Something like that.  And I am still doing well enough that I will simply keep at it.  I might not be getting to much, but... I'm making do as I can.  I am staying aware, mostly.  I found a couple of posts I simply did not remember posting.  Thankfully I was fine with them.  One of them was when I was trying to stay awake and having a rough time of it.  I didn't even remember the music to it.  Haunting.  I'm glad I created that post.  It's just so odd to not remember anything.  Yes, I did respond to a comment on that post, but I do that usually without necessarily reviewing the post unless something in the comment suggests something I don't remember from the post.  Then again, I'm not sure my comments always make sense.  I don't always, I suppose, get what is being suggested.  I think I do, but I can't be sure.  Like a blind man who is almost certain where his jacket is until the time it isn't there.

I am hoping that today is the beginning of me getting back out and up.  Remember, this is only the half way mark, even so.  I have another horrid step to take to get back up to full dosage of medication.  I don't think I will be ready this next time that I am to redo the medicine set.  That first time unnerved me something awful.  But, ready or not after that, I will be upping the dose.  While I don't have an extremely short memory this time, it is long enough that two weeks isn't enough recover but four weeks will be.  I sort of chuckle at that notion.  I know I will only be ready, and possibly full of bravado regarding the next increase in dosage because I have a poor memory, especially regarding pain.  I wonder if my mother(s) knew about that and used it to advantage... girlfriends?  No, no complaints.  I understand that to get things done, sometimes, little... devices are used.

I am sure, from several recent posts, that some women must wonder how the hell I ever had even one woman, let alone many.  I promise, I have not gotten grumpier in my age, I've always been this way.  Well, the first thing I would suggest is that women do not understand their own system.  Women, from my experience, do not like weak-kneed men.  Wrong, right, they will probably disagree on some/many things, but that isn't the point.  Women test men, for a number of things.  Often they don't realize they are doing it.  It leads to fights.  It usually leads to kissing and making up, if the man passes those tests... or nauseated disentanglement if he doesn't.  Urhm, it might take a few days, but women come back on board and just accept that they don't agree, but that their man is strong enough without resorting to violence to deal with her and she feels secure that he will deal with other problems similarly well.  Fitness testing.

Which, for me, always worked well.  I like to debate.  I like to be aggressive, generally preferring being assertive.  I don't need violence to "win" (even if I am wrong, and win anyway, though I haven't been so hush).  I enjoy when a woman decides to not talk to me for a while, too.  I'm really easy to please, no violent unless she crosses that line, then it's just a paddling, and I truly do like women, sort of.  Mostly.  I'm not that harsh, I simply can be, and have certain points that I won't negotiate.  Women find these, and learn to not disturb them unless they are doing fitness trials, or feeling like losing a war of words.  I, likewise, learn her... areas of contention.  Yum!

On another topic, has anyone else gotten the sense that food quality has declined significantly in the last three to five years?  I am guessing it does have something to do with how this admin is handling things through the FDA and other agencies, but I don't have anything on that.  Sugar is now in everything.  I used to be able to find bread without sugar, no longer, and for some years now.  Other things that didn't have sugar are gone.  Flavor is also reduced.  Meat simply seems off.  If it were something I noticed for a short while, I would assume it was a physical low causing me to... not have much for taste bud function.  But it's not.  Food simply isn't as tasty as it was.  Yes, I do believe there is a purpose for it.  No, I don't believe it should be done without people's consent.  No, I actually don't think it is for health reasons, at all.  Just curious if anyone else has been thinking along such lines.

Little editing of late.  I have the focus to write, from time to time, but not always to check the writing.  I just don't have it, or not right away.  Hmm, later. 

Haiku Monday - Leaf/Leaves

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Serendipity won the contest last week.  She covers her superintendence regarding the contest here.  I don't want to let two weeks go, and caught the contest quickly.  I have my first three written, being just in the perfect mood, right before crashing again.  Sleep has been on the menu and unavoidable the last few days.  And back I will go, but first...

green to purple, vary
life for owner, and others-
come and go, again

by many bushels!
in the way or soon to be
broom, blower, chidlren

dazzling flora brought
color and shape, breath and wood
charming gift from earth

siblings of a sort

leaves as our cells ~ come and go

long lives - yet so short

Laughing? Doubtlessly, easily.

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For the first fifteen years of my illness I was much closer to catatonia than anything else.  When I would, for brief moments, pop out, I would live life as fully as possible.  Especially as I learned that this was going to be an ongoing problem.  Most of my life was lived in quiet nothingness, at least as far as the rest of the world thought.  They honestly didn't know if everything stopped, body, mind, whatever else there is.  The medical people always wanted to know what I was thinking, like a woman.

On one occasion, for all reasonable understanding through observation, I slept for nearly a year.  Actual a bit more, a year and three months or thereabouts.  Waking several times a week, and then living as everything was normal for a few hours.  Then back to sleep.  Against ward rules, they allowed me to have a mini television and game system, as it was the only thing that could hold my focus, and keep me awake if only a few more hours each week.  Even in my worst throws, I had... a way with folk, and rules.  *grins*

Some thought I was, or had become, a mental simpleton.  They did check for brain damage and much else, all save the heart it seems.  Tumor?  Brain malfunction?  Retardation?  Nothing was ever found.  They were even puzzled that, deep inside my brain, all the correct forms were seen.  Autistic?  I just didn't present anything that they could diagnose.

All you see here is no more, or less, than what was going on inside.  I was fully alive, and well, if frustrated by my inability to act.  Shut off, as if in an attic, but of my own flesh.  I did learn to enjoy myself, mostly.  The terror of not having the ability to choose, or even make choices outside of my mind, was horrible beyond your understanding.  It would be like being buried alive, or paraplegic, even blind at times.  I had no strength to speak, to tell, to write.  I couldn't get through that physical barrier to the real world.  With some of the people, a few who were very patient with time and mild mannered, I was able to get out, in small ways, just enough, I think, that I was alive in there, that they didn't just put me up somewhere, warehouse me, pimp me out for the government largess.  Just barely enough, as I recall... suspect.

Now?  Now, while still nearly physically catatonic at times, I can, and do, communicate.  I have had plenty of time to think of things, think over things, come to realizations, and solidly.  And I have some things to say.  But more, I just write in order to communicate, all by itself.  To have some, if limited, contact with the world.

 And now?  The very people that wanted me to speak, write, communicate, for so long?  They want me to shut up, already.  It might even be more than a mere request, somewhere in their minds?  Why shouldn't women vote?  Hell, why should they be allowed in the medical field if they can't control themselves?

Oh, laughing?  Oh yes, yes indeed, without any way to constrain it!  Be careful with your wishes.  And the possible threats?  Adds solid bass to my laughter, and a little deeper... something.  Oh, heavens, I do enjoy life.  Teh funny!

So tired, so taught.

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Yeah, I may be sleeping a lot.  But my focus is laser beam absolute.  My resolution has settled on the nano while my body rots in the world.  The notion of women, to a degree, has claimed my focus for real world reasons.  Well, and refusing to surrender, not even to pain or erstwhile confusion during these times.  I am holding on, if seemingly to nothing often.  As such, I might be just a tetch... caustic.  Oh, but never fear.  This can happen in any times.  Further, so long as it is kept, at least mostly, on track, I don't mind a bit.  Sometimes I direct it at me, sometimes you, sometimes them, or this, or that.  Sometimes, like this time, someone raises their hand and says "Oh, ew... me, pick me... me, me, me".  I oblige.

Cruel.

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I hear it on the wind.  The little bird brings me much.  Blasphemous as well?  Oh, don't be shy children.  Approach with your whispers.  One thing, however, at a time.

As for feckless callousness, I assure you there was nothing feckless or callous about what I wrote.  If I wish to be mean, you won't have any doubts.  You might not be able to breath for a few moments.  Much longer if that little bit stopped your breath.  Even at distance, much more so in my presence.  Merely I have been clarifying.  Should you wish the lash, all that is required is a more direct request.  Don't just push the line, step over it.  You won't be the first woman I have fathered.  Most women have not, these days, been schooled rightly.  I can, have, and probably will.  Should I find a woman who even understands her place in reality, and my world, and be interested in fulfilling those roles with me.  Even without that, it seems.

If I wish to crush you, of mind and spirit, that is less a task than to physically harm you.  Doubt, protest my impotence, but through tears from a minor discussion?  Really?  Who is delusional, exactly?  Careful youngling.  Even if you be twice my age, as a woman, at times, you are as a child unto me.  I won't negotiate.  I know from experience, I don't have to acquiesce... and shouldn't.

As to going against God?  Why?  Because I used a seeming non-believer's art to depict a dogma that has been allowed to languish while the Church is reduced from the Bride of Christ to just some Jezebel?  And daughters of men, of Eve, of Mary, are allowed to become foul untamed asses, free to all comers and their own passions?  And then go on to murder their own children so they can do it more?  Careful when you push those buttons.  I am the least of what you should fear, mind you.  I advise, and for a reason, and the way I do.  Doubt in your insecurity, deny if you wish, but you cannot undo God's will.  Shoot the messenger if you will, that would actually be a quite great honor.  Further, I will offer you the first stone, should you see that as right.  Not that I would simply allow you to throw it, mind you.  I think you would lose, one, two, and yes, probably three ways.  Unlike you, and your notions, I would make it quick.  Your rage should warn your heart and mind that your notions are not correct.  Especially if you were born a man.  Women?  I understand you are of passion.  But if that passion is untamed, it will be your ruin, which is why you shouldn't vote.  There is a reason women weren't allowed to do the stoning, by the way.  Oh?  You... didn't know?  Consider yourself just a wee better educated.  You may thank me later.

There are things far worse than death, and certainly worse than a bruised ego.  There are things worth pricking egos, even destroying psyches, if done for the right reasons, directly, and honestly.  I pray, always, to be free of excesses, and yet to have the strength to do what is right.  And then I walk forward and do just that, as I see it.  No more, no less.

Well, off to... something.  Sleep is still quite odd.  I have just been letting it happen as it must.  I am attempting to take medication properly, and eat.  But, it's all so... blurry.  Extra sleep does help to keep things coherent, but in a much smaller and smaller circle further down in me.  I haven't surrendered to near coma though.  I am simply retreating as I have no real means of resisting at the moment.

If you think me a monster now, wait until I wake.  A dragon, but of God?  Hmm...  Attempt to slay the dragon if you must.  Just understand, God's will cannot be unmade.  I have, however, told you how best to do it.  Good luck.  Not even I could do it.

Later!

Thoughts.

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No, I won't watch it.  Nothing from Hollywood anymore.  Besides, I've lived my own real version of it, to an extent.  Why watch the fiction.  No double, triple, or more, realities... just so very many realities that weren't compatible.  Who has 41 siblings, or 7 fathers, 3 mothers, has gone to 12 different k-12 schools, and... what, 4, 5, colleges, or loved 50 or more women?  And that is just the tip of the iceberg.  I know they would ruin the story, somehow, suggesting that everything is the right answer, the good way, if you just want, or some such drivel.  The trailer is interesting though.

You can't make the right choice, you can only make a choice, quite often.  I didn't have the understanding to make the right choice, but was given the options anyway.  But many big choices can eventually break you.  If you live long enough, it all comes back into focus though.  I have lived enough, too much as I see it now.  If too, I realize there is so much else out there.  Perhaps a few... wants remain.  Just a ghost of what could have been, might have been, what I wanted it to be, and what I didn't want but what was, walking around looking for what maybe never was, or never will be, but is.

Oops?

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Oh, that was a bit tight.  Thankfully, in spite of being quite tired and out of it lately, I knew what was going on at my doctor visit.  She REALLY had a problem.  Estrogen and passive-aggressive to the gills.  The woman was as close to being harsh and rude as you can get without quite crossing that, technically.  I still think if it is wall to wall it crosses the line.  My guess?  She read this post, watched the vids, read the verses, and about hit her own upper limits of bp.  She knows better than God, and certainly better than me!  Ha!  I do believe they monitor my page.  Just to get an idea of "where I am at", or something silly.  Or maybe that was the start of it.  Then this blog became a curiosity.  She was probably just doing an update, read that, and...

I try to warn em', I do.  But do they listen?  Oh no.  I don't know if she is divorced, but I am quite sure that would add to the... urhm... burn.  But the simple fact of her position in life, the realities of it, are quite... trying.  Going to a page that points that out, without conditions or allowances, has to be harsh.  I can't change the facts, and won't.  Not my province in any event.  There is nothing I can do for the realities as they exist.  I could avoid noting them.  But these were brought to me through dreams.  And besides, I have no interest in hiding the truth in order to be "civil" according to someone that is no longer even in the game.  I am not kind to myself, in avoiding the truth.  I give what I get.  Oh, she really needs to work on her "gotchyas", they were easily swatted aside when ignoring them as dull wasn't enough.  But... that probably is as much as she really has.  Sad.

If I hadn't known what was going on, I would have thought that she had no medical training, or no understanding.  I'll have to see.  Of course, she doesn't want to see me for a year.  Which... is unlike any doctor I have seen there before, six months is the most before her.  If she can't handle the truth, and the case, she really has an obligation to surrender it though.  Hubris in the medical field is just part of why Zerocare is going to be more of a disaster if it ever gets off the ground than even the startup.  Though there are other parts of it that will be as bad.  Oh, and guess what they are going to do to get doctors onboard?  The same thing the V.A. has done.  Exempt them from lawsuits, even if malicious.  Yeah, you are just going to LOVE the medical field given full rights to experiment on you as they wish without fear of retribution.  Or even reasonable responsibility for their irresponsibility, or even aggravated intent to harm.  

I did make it to Cabela's.  They do have the snow shoes recommended in stock.  I looked over boots.  They seemed short and I mentioned that.  Gators, I was told.  Okay, well, gators aren't my favorites, but... I understood why not higher boots.  I tried on a pair of boots.  Good thing, too.  They were a size small, actually.  Usually these boots run (or so I was told) forty more than their listed price.  Dunno, might have been a sales ploy (I do intend to find out).  Fearing a higher price later, I went with the boots now, and gators.  When I am up for my next appointment, or maybe online, I might just buy those snow shoes.  I am at the end of their range, but there really aren't larger sizes easily or reasonably priced that are available.  I know I will sink in some.  And I know I will have to practice and just get used to that and figure things out.  So be it.  They would certainly be better than nothing, and with some practice, and getting in shape, they ease getting me out to goof in the snow, and maybe eventually to camp out there.

Hmm...  I don't know.  Tired, true.  But pleased that I made my appointment and got to Cabela's.  I've been meaning to stop in, anyway, just because it's Cabela's.  Saw a large Scheel's on the way, too.  I ought to stop there as well, just... well... because it's Scheels!  Funny, I didn't have a map and didn't bother with my phone.  Saw the sign for the exit but didn't see where to go.  I headed in the wrong direction, due to traffic congestion and an insane set of traffic structures.  At the second intersection in which I could turn around, I did, only to find myself right where I was going.  Love it when a flawed plan works out flawlessly.  *grins*

Ya, I'm awake, in time.

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My appointment, as it turned out, wasn't until this afternoon.  I did have to go back down for a bit.  I set my alarm from 9:30 but was up well before that, maybe 8:00-8:30.  Enough time, maybe, to get a shower in, air dry, and get the trash out?  Maybe.  Still... sitting here, but thinking on it all.

Rammstein is definitely a man's group.  Whatever else, they seem to hit, and hint at, what is in a man's mind.  From the fantasies to realities of women as we see them, to the lighter shades of our dark side, to just resembling the animals that we are, as in this gritty vid.  I know, getting up, and living my life, in my mancave, I understand this.  When I go to do something, I understand it won't be what I thought, I sometimes overdo some things, and even then I often fail.  *rip*  Love me some Rammstein in the morning.

Never mind, I need to get going.  I do have a few things to do before I even begin doing the thing that I really need to do.

But, this last sleep cycle?  Dreams?  Aye.  A sweet one.  My favorite of the Blade Runner ladies, or for now, this time.  Rachael vies for this spot.  Pris is fine, I do like her... imaginative mind, gymnastics, and all.  But she, or the type she plays, is for another sort.  Or at least, compared to the time I watched the movie, then understood.  Odd how what we were alters what we like, even should our tastes and moods about such change.  Like a time capsule, some things become locked into 'what was'.  In the movie, she was a killer too.  She was intelligent and capable, but not as risk taking as I at the time, even so.  Now?  She would be too much of a risk taker, as a partner.  I need the tame, a Pris.  But I can't change the ideals and realities then, or otherwise alter my notions of then, now.  Strange.  Not so much fantasy dreams of sex.  Sex is fine, but being with, around, and flirty with sexy...  Ah...  Therein lies most of my sexuality.  The foundations and majority of such.  That is what I dreamed.  A touch, a whisper, a glance, even a scratch!  But then a forgiveness.

Later.

Sleep was a gift.

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I do try to stretch.  I also attempt to avoid that step too far.  It can be, literarily, akin to stopping blindly at warp speed at a desired location.  Sometimes it works, sometimes not so much.  yesterday it worked just about perfectly.  I had, however, forgotten a bit about dinner.  I thought to set the alarm but sometimes it comes earlier or later, so that doesn't really work but I took my phone in.  I woke for that, and enjoyed the meal.

In spite of myself.

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I kept going and going, finally dropping like a well shot buffalo at about 13:30.  I had almost hoped to make it to dinnertime, but that just was not going to happen.  I thought to set my alarm, to be awake when it arrived.  As I was reaching over to set the alarm, *bam, bam, bam*, dinner arrived.  Yeah, that's pretty freaky.  Don't remember sleeping.  It was almost as close to being rude without actually being rude, as one can know.  A straight shot from reaching over to set an alarm to being awaken by the reason you were going to SET the alarm.  *bam, bam, bam*  Again.  Pajamas were on, but cap.  I like having a cap on.  Ah, there it was.  Dinner was good.  I think?  No, yes, it was tasty.

However, I think I just saw my shadow, and the cats are looking eerily dangerous somehow.  Daydreaming I am a mouse?  Perhaps, or mindtwisting into that.  I will set the alarm this time.  I need to be on the road, I think, by...  3:00, or 5:00, or 7:00, or... something.  I'll... look at my phone, if I can find it.  Being this sleepy is almost as plush as that fog I can go through, but not quite.  It's more like being well and truly tipsy compared to being off one's gourd with no chance at memory.  Crazy, baby.  More sleep.  Good... night?  Yep.  Actually.  

Sleep is so messed up.

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I have pushed it this morning.  It hasn't started hurting or anything.  But I am rather confused, and have been for a number of days.  The inebriation of exhaustion can be exquisite.  Not so much as a preferred thing, only in it's effects.  While I can think back in here, speaking is too complicated to do well.  I can't remember what I was about to say, what I did say, or what I was getting at.  I have, for the most part, taken my medicines in spite of it.  I have missed an evening or two, and a day in there.  Catching up when I can, just leaving it go when too much time has passed.  The difficulty is keeping the day correct.  More so when I am not sure if my next sleep will last a few hours or many hours, or even if I will be awake for long or short periods.  Well, and driving through the fog of an extended waking period, like now, means I lose all sense of things while I try to push through.

I had visitors today.

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Horrible!  Oh, not the visitors.  As I mentioned, my sleep is very off.  But they would be coming by about three to six hours after my body wanted, demanded, sleep.  I could, probably, have gotten a nap in, but I was so focused on trying to... do something... anything... to straighten things up a bit that... I never did get down.  So, when they were here, I was jabbering, unfocused, tripping on my tongue.  Things I had been thinking, like my darker post today, other... notions, and such, just spilled out.  Thankfully, I didn't say anything inappropriate.  Then, I don't live in the profane.  Yes, yes, what you see here and read here and hear here, right?  Ah, but truths are not profane, just darkly gilded at times.  If you understand what I am saying you would understand this.   As to the past... where there was profane, but in an attempt to find the better... and only part of what makes the present, something released for a better life.  None of that got through the filters.

They asked if they could help more, here.  And, no.  Not now, or yet, really.  If I can get caught back up on the kitchen, and then hit the living room and computer room strongly, then yes, I would ask for more help, an extra push, to get the remainder back in line.  But any extra help, at this point, while I am behind the ball that I had advanced to, would be... unsustainable.  I need to be in a place where I can sustain an advance.  Yeah, maybe picky, maybe wrong headed, but...  I think it is right, for me.

As soon as my guests parted, I thought to go right to sleep.  I think I tried to stretch my "day" more, but really wasn't all that successful.  I have no idea what time it was when I went to bed.  It had to be after 16:00, and probably a bit after 17:00?  Dunno.  I just know I woke at 2:00, will be taking my meds shortly, may take another shower before long.  Then set up the dishes, check the washer and dryer, and if in any condition to do so, might make another run into town for more.

Interesting dreams of late.  Alien dinosaurs on alien planets which were supposed to be barren of animal life.  Michael and I think his wife were on the trip.  We were the last to get out, even with the carnivorous large dino's "chasing" us.  It was a rather leisurely, easy chase, if I ever saw one.  No running, no screaming, lots of conversation, and breaks every once in a while.  Yeah, not... exactly a nightmare.  :p  Other such odd dreams, though no other cameos that I remember.  Tinkering with Hoover Dam sized things, floating on clouds, flirting with women, things like that.  The last few days have leant themselves to interesting but non-stressful dreams.  Many have been lost upon waking, some linger for extra entertainment while awake.

Did I mention?  I did make it into town yesterday.  I went to the one store I knew would have some oddities on my list, such as quinoa, semolina flour (to be mixed with regular for pasta dough), amaranth seed(grain), and of course brown rice, short rice this time.  Yes, yes, I have some things to try.  Quinoa I know how to cook, have cooked, though I ought to check on that again as it's been a while.  My trick with it will be to figure out what to cook with it, or add to it, to make it... edible to me.  Amaranth is a whole new flora white meat to me.  I'll have to explore that a bit.  And, actually, home made noodles is a new project, semolina flour is a new wheat...  Incentives to get my kitchen back in order and begin tinkering again.

I think the owner is Vietnamese, of the particular shop where I picked up the grains.  I happened to be wearing my tiger stripe bdu bottoms.  They were never, and still aren't, official bdu's, as far as I know.  What I have are as close to official as were ever produced... button fly, tie legs, button balloon pockets with drain holes, the rest.  These were bought by the men, or men I knew, on their own, for in the field.  And, true, I never wore them as they did.  But some in my club did.  The lefties in the shop were quite offended.  He?  He was pleased to have me shopping in his store.  One side was there for politics, power, and indifferently, then abandoned them to slaughter.  One side had more than a little skin, interest, and blood in the game.  He knows which should be offended.  Which is offensive, to him probably quite personally.  Just an accident of fate, an interesting one.

Crazy sleep lately. And some prepping stuff.

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While I do feel good, I am crashing, hard... too hard to stop or play with or alter.  I'm taking medicines reasonably well but little else save the girls get breakfast, dinner, and their hard foods and water regularly.  Well, and I have been eating a bit every day.  That last may seem silly, but in the worst of times I have simply stopped eating, and mostly keeping up on the kitchen.  No focus, no interest, no way.  Not eating for a week or three is very hard on the system.  The g.i. simply shuts down.  Don't go there.  Starting it up again is painful in every way, and full of oddities, one way, then the other, as a yo-yo, until it all settles back to some norm again.  So, this is probably the best crash I have known, plus being conscious, even if through some harsh pain early on and probably coming up.

I have been sleeping for four hours then popping awake, being awake four hours, going down for eight or so, then being back up for four more hours.  I simply don't have a real schedule.  I don't mind, especially since despite it all, there is SOME regularity, and when I am awake I have a bit of capacity to at least eat and do some washing.  There is worse and there is much 'worser'.  This is merely worse, and the cream of the crop of it at that.

Some suggestions for preppers.  I know, I have been remiss as to advising lately.  Or even dealing with this issue.  Truth be told, other than learning to can meats, buy a solid wheat grinder, and a few other things, I am nearing my practical capacity for that.  Ugh... I do need to refill the shorter term larder, check stocks, see what I have been using, and such.  But other than that, I am almost as prepped as I can be, all givens included.  Still, there are notions, about food, and incentives, that I can pass on.  These aren't from other people, these are from my very own experiences.

The first, is the notion of storing some food replacements.  Enriched white rice lasts longer, much longer, than brown rices.  But there are other grains that last as long and are easier to cook, lower on the glycemic index, and full grained so you get more bang for your buck.  Among these is quinoa, as an example.  My personal displeasure with white rice lead me to try this.  Being a nearly true eater of all things, I thought this would be a simple replacement.  As it turns out... I truly do not care for quinoa.  Oh, but you suggest, hunger solves all.  Well, no, it doesn't.  If I had ended up stocking all such grain as quinoa, there is a chance I would have gotten over my dislike.  The other possibility is that I would have become unable to eat much when that was served, a very bad thing when physical exertion is demanded by new realities, short or long, on the ground, and where stocks have to be used and watched carefully.  In need, one does not make a meal for me and a meal for thee.  No time, no energy, not enough stores, limits on replacement.  It's not like one simply, in that, goes to the store.

Oh, I haven't given up.  I will try to make room for quinoa and amaranth, possibly other grains, which can be stored for longer periods.  Nutrition is important.  While we, all of us to be quite honest, are wealthy enough to ignore nutrition at this time.  In a hard spell we will do that to our great personal and social peril.  People forget that during the great depression even children became so malnourished that, when the government put out the call for the draft in WWII, many were turned away because they were completely unfit.  The reason there is a school lunch program is because of that.  Yes, it has outlived it's usefulness at least among the civilized, or more those who choose to be civilized, and further under this new admin seems to be trying to impose malnourishment (don't feed farm hands or the like what the nobility eat, innit? as well, come on mooshell, don't tell me that is what you eat... look in a mirror, we know).  The notion that started it was that so many children were so grossly underfed that they couldn't even be drafted.

I am suggesting, again, from personal experience, what many other preppers or faux preppers suggest.  Make sure you can tolerate the foods you are storing.  Don't just sample them, try them with other foods you are storing.  I would even suggest getting used to them, even if they aren't going to be your "always" diet, if that is preferred.  Know what you like, what you can put up with, and what you simply cannot eat.  And more...  Try to expand your 'food vocabulary'.  I plan, when picking up more brown rice (yeah, shut it, I know I can eat enriched white... and have it in store, but preferences so hush), also picking up both those grains and experimenting.  No, I don't like doing that.  No, I don't want to.  But I am not a child and sometimes have to do what I don't like.  And, who knows.  I didn't like couscous either, until the lady who feeds me put it together with some stuff.  Ignorance is no excuse in a time of want.  Hmm, ought to check on couscous as well.  Gah!

Next, this winter, perhaps in the late winter or spring, I will be getting into another hog.  I did not can this year, but next year I would like to do so.  Practice with pork, then beef if/when the price on that comes down.  Last I looked, a package of ribeye was $10-$11, and seemed to be that price for some long time.  I hope Ted (Bundy) Turner goes broke trying to price strangle Americans out of beef.  Why would the government allow a communist to own a major culturally significant fragile food industry?  Ah, right.  Never mind.  Remember, your government knows best, it is all you will ever need.  Forget beef, forget the family... forget God.  Right...

I offer these notions up for my own purposes, of course.  I need incentive, and writing about these things... sort of reinvigorates me in this cause.  I write about this for your sake as well.  You really need to understand.  This isn't fiction, it isn't make believe, it is coming.  No, it hasn't happened yet.  But understand, in all the history of economics?  The situation we, and the whole world, is in right now is unprecedented.  Imagine if economics was like a human brain.  And the doctors had pumped that brain full of chemicals so that it was still alive but followed no known, or even imagined, patterns.  Then imagine if they had put that brain, without understanding or communicating with it in any way because they couldn't, in charge of the world.  This is not a tale that is going to end well.  And that, essentially, is what has happened.  You, yes you, if you are reading this, lead a lush life... compared to even the French, English, even Germans, but so far beyond the typical South American and African that you cannot imagine the difference... yet.  Your government, and seemingly big business, is wanting you to live as Africans.  Hungry people, the poor, the powerless... these are easy to manipulate.  You must be brought down, or eliminated if you will not yield.

Don't tell me they can't do it.  They ARE doing it.  ACA to SS to Medicaide and Medicare are crushing the life out of this nation.  Throw in new business regulation every day, literally, new attempts to take your firearms, attempts at opening our borders for all comers, and many other initiatives, and it is plain to see what is happening.  Europe is ahead of us in these things and Russia is already crushed, the typical paycheck is $300 a month there.  Why do you think people there commonly take a drug that literally rots the body, and why do you think that the use of that has spread to Europe and America?  Seriously, folks, if you think this is bad, wait.  We have allowed it.  Nobody wanted to say "Boo".  Of course many were, and still are, for the changes because of 'for free stuff'.  You get precisely what you pay for.  It's coming.

The US has run red, and it is about to do more than bleed us dry of the wealth earned.  What is left to do with a beat that has nothing left to bleed?  The sugar plant.  Economic Soyent Green, with the boot and the bayonet and terror to keep the machine greased. 

Ode to Sassy?

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Perhaps.  More prose than song or poem.  Sassy is the hungriest little cat girl I have ever known.  She eats more than Sam and I combined, pound for pound.  No, she isn't fat, or not any more.  I put her on a bit of a diet and watch things a bit more carefully.  Back when I couldn't focus, and before I created a plan that allows me to monitor food intake much more easily, and when my days were mixed affairs running from a few hours to a few days and so I would feed when I was awake and the best I could, she had really started to buffalo out. 

Still, she learned to beg at a professional level.  Sam, on the other hand, only begs fairly.  If Sam is begging I know I have slipped up and they get fed right then and there... urhm... give or take.  Remember, I am an ogre, so hints aren't always taken easily.  Beside begging, Sassy has learned to understand some words.  Food, hungry, treats?  Bam, she's on those like a wife hearing credit card and mall.  She has also learned that, when she begs early, poppa can be a bit... cruel.  Food?  Meow!  Not a chance.  *runs away and attacks chair she isn't supposed to claw*  *gets chased by ogre until he is pooped and collapses back into place, never having gotten close*  *sneaks back and begs a whole day (20 minutes, max) later*  Twerp!

Oh, for some reason, I am frequently being logged out of blogger when I try to comment.  I am trying to remember to save the comment, and relog in order to post it again.  If you aren't getting comments, it's because I didn't remember to save the comment.  Vox and Dum Vivimus, Vivamus seem to be almost automatic failures, as to being unlogged.  When I am logged  out, the comment is always lost.  I don't know if they have some setting, or blogger is just picking on conservatives in some new and nefarious manner.  Just understand, this is just the beginning for the statists.  Second class citizens by default and in a seemingly automated manner.  Yes, they have your file.  They "know" who you are.  Government, big business, the rest.  And, if you aren't complying, you will be punished.

Peace of being.

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Yes, a little more sleep did help.  Still inactive, and prone to be for some time most likely, at least there is a sense of ease in the moment.  The senses remind me of a poem I read most recently, written in the appropriate setting and framing the right time, as regards my notions.  While nighttime is not what is sought by me, when I find myself in it literally or virtually as now, I wish merely to enjoy it.  Regardless, as well, of my wishes, my nature belongs to the night.

Most recently I read poetry written by a lady who caught so much of my sense of things on such nights.  As I enjoy them, I dared ask sufferance in order to use her poem here.  Permission was granted.  It seems now is the time to cash that cheque.

The moon reappears
a lover so errant
A quick glimpse of light
its deceit not apparent
It kisses my skin
soft shimmering light
Bright promise, a whisper

uttered only at night
In a moment it's gone
cold taking its place
Autumn's caress
assuming its space
For I could not own it
it's light held no key
Captured by nothing
not even by me
- Brigid

While it may seem a sad, or lonely, piece, for my part it is not the case.  The humbleness of unrequited love, the loneliness that is a part of life, the richness that darker shades of life can bring, and other thoughts of similar natures, crowd into my mind upon reflections of this poem and the notions that drew me to it.  These are not bad, or painful, or sad things, in this humble cave.  Little tastes of life which many seem to have no patience for, but which I, and apparently others, suss out of life.  Little, often innocent, pleasures, enjoyed right over or around or through our sinfulness.  Yes.  Indeed, this poem and my thoughts, to me, are spices added to my life.

Thank you, much, madam, for your kind permission and fine work.

Not the best, or worst, of days.

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Just a wee tired and physically feeling jostled.  No great pains, no solid joys, just another day of doldrums.  Far better than some recent days, and good enough.  I will not complain.  I don't think I will get to much today, and I may go back for a sort of nap.  Part of the sense of the blahs is that I am pushing my schedule back into days, I suspect.  I made it to 15:00, maybe 16:00 this afternoon, before crashing.  "Yesterday" (the sleep time of the cycle from the cycle before this, as that was Tuesday, "yesterday" was Wednesday... gets confusing), I was in bed by 10:00.  So, "yesterday" was quite a stretch.  Hmm, woke early, because, technically, "yesterday" is... also today.  Never mind, just... trust me.

Oh, I will feed the girls, and check the washer and dryer.  I'm not sure if anything was left in the wash.  I hope not, but... Then a nap?  Yeah.  Strange dreams of late.  I lose them, often before I wake.  I think I have been enjoying them, complex as they are.  Should you really dream, even if they might now work in real life, new fields of theoretical mathematics?  Sure, it is interesting, at least to me.  But aren't we supposed to have fun, or doing odd things, or have great fears in our dreams?  I dunno, just seems odd to me.  No, I can't remember the theory.  I truly wish I could.  I have tested these things out before, and have hit, and missed, profoundly.  At least I enjoy it, mostly.  Some little details take weeks in that dream world to sort out.  I truly do enjoy math and science.  At least the real stuff, that ends up being functional, useful, and a step in the right direction.

I did finish the last trophy from Dishonored.  I won't be buying DLC (download content).  The game just isn't that intriguing.  I did enjoy some of the play, and the style.  Even when I can kill, for example, even though it is just a game?  I prefer to avoid that.  I think of all those, in real life, good and bad and "neutral", who have died, rightly or wrongly or just in a timely required for the world fashion, and...  I don't prefer to kill.  Only if there is no other way or it is right and required.  I also know, in truth, there is no way for things to work without some killing in life.  Plants, beasts, men, blood must be spilled.  And it isn't always as we would prefer it, right or wrong or just.  In a game, where I can choose, even when it isn't actually practical in a real world setting, I choose mercy... or a very fast end.  Do unto others, all I'm saying.  As to the poster?  I may not be a lady, but I can definitely empathize, even emulate.  Oh my!  :p

As such I am on to another game.  I am not sure I really like it, but... I'll tinker with it.  Rarely do I truly enjoy a game up front.  And this game is particularly quirky regarding controls, poor in game connection to those in my opinion, and the number of controls jammed onto such a limited device.  I may create a cheatsheet.  But that only helps to learn over time, the learning curve is rather steep, so I will make many mistakes just learning.  Bleh.  I'll know it a bit.  The premise of the game, the wild West, is promising.  And I do understand, at that time, that force was applied in a bit more of a naked fashion, due to the realities that existed.  And, while sneaking isn't quite the thing in this game, there are non-lethal methods of play.  But those require mastering a learning curve that is... a bit bogus imho.  I just wish there was an in-game way to quit the game and a better save mechanism.  *grumbles while contemplating* 

Yeah, I guess it's not such a, bland, maudlin, or melancholy day after all, once I got going.  *grin*  Yeah, it may look bad.  But trust me, the grin says otherwise.  Still, a nap might improve on even this.  Perhaps I will find someone to somehow irritate in a dream?  Like that's difficult.  Thankfully is is pleasing.  Later.

Why?

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Oh, who knows.  My mind is playing with things.  Not so darkly though not without touching on some of that.  My gardens all have areas of shadow.

Feeling and doing don't always equate.

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Oh, I'm still feeling rather self-pleased.  The girls have been hunted well and often.  And they in turn have enjoyed hunting me.  I have worn the poor dears out though.  I'll give them a break and find other pursuits.  What that is an activity, it isn't truly all that active.  Further, it is spur of the moment with no gain save that a couple of cat women and an ogre get a bit of exercise.  Sustained only until rest is needed.

Getting on to other things is not happening as I had hoped.  No worries.  I have almost two weeks of feeling better, at least.  I do suspect, somewhere in there, I will find myself to doing a bit more work.  Hopefully a lot more work.  Then again, that I am awake, not in pain, and actually enjoying myself might be as good as it gets in the process of restarting medications.  Noting that my blood pressure and blood sugar is way up, I'm not quite in the best of health yet.  I'll keep hoping, and looking for the windows of opportunity, but I won't stress about things too much.  I do what I can, what is easy, and until I get too exhausted or sleepy.

I have seen an article regarding men, women, and Japan a great deal of late.  Actually, I have been seeing this regarding most Western nations, China, and Eastern Europe, specifically Russia.  What has happened is that the demographics are imploding.  I have been tracking this from before I was blogging.  However, it seems that the term, out of the pan and into the fire, is the only way to describe the phenomenon at this point.  I also suspect that the birth rates in the US and Europe are fiction, at least for the native populations.  A few years ago, for example, Britain learned that the most popular name for a baby boy was Mohammed.  It isn't that obvious in the US, as many legal and illegal aliens still prefer, mostly, Englified names for their children.  So far.  Either that, or like most other government, social, and news reporting, name statistics are purely fiction.

What this article does, that I have not seen before, is discuss just exactly what is happening, at least in Japan.  Men and women are both selecting to not only not get married, but not interact with each other even in loose relationships.  Women are terrified, it seems, of filling the role of wife and mother.  Men, on the other hand, are disinterested in women.  Actually, neither is probably new.

Men, despite what women think of us, have a very... limited interest in women.  Essentially we have always known that women are problematic, on almost every front.  I don't agree with most of what, or why, a woman thinks what she thinks.  I don't agree with most of what makes a woman tick.  There are areas were our thinking can, mildly, overlap.  But for the most part I have always understood that a woman is a foreign critter.  My interest is based on many things.  That difference itself, the physical differences and what they mean, and the potential for children, a clean comfortable home, and cooked meals.  For my part, the truth about the differences between us has never been an issue so long as the family structure held.  Or, that wasn't the reason I never married.  When completely freed of moral, ethical, social, and legal constraints, women are completely untenable.  Not even worthy to be lovers, really.  Oh, nothing personal, just the facts as I see them.

As for women?  Yes, their fears are well grounded.  Bearing a child will take a woman as close to death, possibly, and at times, as she will know until the day of her death.  Each time very possibly, and not always just at the finish line.  Further, home keeping is not as easy as many would suggest.  The reason, for example, that women who actually keep their homes in good condition also look fit... is because they are.  They don't need special workout routines, gym passes, or a slew of dvd's and special equipment.  However, it is a nearly thankless job, an endless job.  Women have been taught, in the "advanced nations", that they are above such things.  They have been so well educated that they will personally keep themselves out of marriage and family life because they deserve better, missing that they are guaranteeing the social structure which has brought them to their unprecedented, and unsustainable, levels of freedom, to a screeching halt.  Some education is better than others, it would seem.  Or, some are lead to think while others can only follow the herd, even if it is over a cliff.

My health is my main drawback, as to finding a wife.  Well, and the lack of suitable partners.  Women, younger or older, do believe that they don't deserve the restraints that come with raising a family, or even suffering a husband.  There are a few, still, who might be viable.  They will have to be tamed, as all are now shrews.  If there is variances among those.  My trick is getting out often enough to separate the wheat from the chaff.  I have a very slim chance, at this point.  For which, in some ways, I am grateful.  Perhaps some people, and some nations, deserve to be no more.  Besides, you can't, if you know the real numbers, even consider saying I didn't kick a lot of tires, go as far from celibacy as a man can, and actually ask for a hand four times.  My job, travel, and bad luck all played a part in my missing out.  I may be single, but not in the Japanese way.  I have simply turned to that way as other options don't work, or any better.

The only way to potentially slow the death of the West would be to stop employing women.  Only faced with fewer options, and parents wanting her out, would she choose marriage.  I am not even sure that would guarantee children as things stand.  And few men will risk taking on a wife without other changes.  I suppose one could suggest that if we keep going, as is, which we will do, that it will work out.  And it will.  But the West will no longer be the West.  Western Civilization is well and truly dead.  Doesn't mean, if I could find a wife, that I wouldn't lead my own little part of life my own little way.

Oats, and wild, and feeling oder etwas.

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I'll just enjoy for a bit.  I had thought to see if I could use it.  No need.  I think it will tend to that itself.  A good day is just that, a frisky one is better.  Invigorated, and mischievous, with a bloom of energy and imagination running rampant.  I have things to do.

A fine day?

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So far.  I woke, seemingly from a very interesting dream.  It wasn't interesting because of anything that happened it.  What made it interesting was that in it I lived for a week.  Going to bed each night, waking each morning, speaking to various people, taking a trip to the store, straightening the house, even grumping on various days about various personal and bigger issues.  Today was supposed to be Thursday, next Thursday.  I'll just chalk that up to a fun little thing, at least when I saw that it was Wednesday, so looked a bit deeper to see it is the 23rd.  Halloween is sneaking up, I see.  I do have candy ready, but not the kilt kit.

Well, and I woke in a rather chipper mood.  After goofing with the girls until they were wound like fine Swiss watches, so that they started chasing each other around, all of us giggling in our own sort of way, I ran out of steam so decided to write.  Not sure what is up but it's probably just a couple of painless days in a row, and maybe a bit of energy returning.  I think even the girls were enjoying.  The certainly got into the spirit of the thing from their own waking cold start!  We had a ball this "morning".  We certainly did.  Now just who was the cat and who was the mouse depended on the moment.

What am I to do though?  Hmm...  Dishes need doing, but maybe first something to eat.  Laundry needs to be pushed on through.  Some cleaning in the living room, in hopes of clearing a space for putting my kilt together.  Honestly, that seems like a lot of fussy work, and I do fear a poor outcome on that, or it becoming a huge time dump.  Perfectionism has it's place, but isn't the best for some tasks.  Well, and I'm not sure I like the material for this task.  It might do, it might not, and that assuming I can... set the thing up right to begin with.  Yes, yes, I'll try to get ready to give it a whirl.  Plus, in that I would be cleaning the living room to do it, it is along the path I wish to take anyway.

I am increasing my insulin.  Since the smaller amount that should have worked is not enough, I am going back to my doctor's suggestion.  Up one cc per day until blood sugar is back under control.  Since I wasn't eating anything bad, I have to assume that, even when I eat the right(er) foods in proper amounts, my body just won't always process things correctly.  Who knows what else might be way off.  The problem is, what happens when my body works well and I am at high levels of this stuff?  Life is spooky with organs that work, then don't, then do...  I'll figure that out too, I suppose.

Never mind.  Just take the fun spirit of the day and go have some fun yourself.  Gosh I like being alive, even the rough spots, in ways.  But these fun days are to die for.  Later.

ACA and the middle class.

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The other day I wrote how Zerocare was an attack on the middle class.  The source of the particular man I wrote about has been called into question.  I simply haven't had it in me to research that.  However, in other reading, I have found plenty of other examples of middle class folk losing insurance or being priced to the choking point for that.

Assuming Zero is telling the truth, which I doubt, half a million people, give or take, have signed in.  How many have actually, or even been able, to obtain insurance is another thing.  I heard that in his speech, the "thousands" were discussed.  I have heard, from the speech writer for another president, that the notion of "thousands" was significant.  At this point the admin is being very careful with numbers.  But they are trying to brag up the program.  If the speech writer had thought, or could justify using, the terms "tens of thousands" or "hundreds of thousands", he would have done it.  Which means, probably, at best, literally only 950-995 up to 8,499-9,499 have signed up (depending on how this admin rounds, when and if it can ever be believed).  When the actual numbers of people rise to the point where they are significant, everyone who has been kicked off their old insurance program, who have pre-existing conditions, or even has a medium to large family, will begin seeing just exactly what the costs are.  Some simply have no choice, one way or the other.  This will be significant, unless fraud is brought in, which I actually expect.

The real reason the Zerocare online is sticking, is they were hoping people would be so glad for anything, or excited, that they would just sign up blindly, especially the young.  That not only didn't happen, it won't happen.  And without millions of young healthy people signing up for useless insurance, the system can't afford the otherwise uninsured, uninsurable, and poor.  Basically we are seeing a ponzy scheme imploding right from implementation.  Unlike Social Security, where people might never make it to retirement to see the flop that it is, or be young and strong enough to fight for it (no, for example, Social Security is not guaranteed, according the several Supreme Court cases).  This one?  Right up front.

No, there is something I am a bit suspicious regarding.  It wouldn't surprise me if the glitches are being played up to bring a lot of pressure forward, only to have that can kicked out from under the naysayers.  Let's just say this looks a little convenient, potentially.  A little pain, up front, which leads to a quick shot through the system and an easy enrollment, potentially with lowered rates that may or may not end up being fictitiously low but that wouldn't be uncovered until the program was well under way.  I'm not sure these clowns are that bright, but were I doing this, and as evil as I believe these folks to be, I might consider that as one strategy.  I've used it, successfully, on a much smaller scale, if for far less nefarious reasons.  It does work.

Update:  Not a full day later and... there she be!  It seems Zerocare online has started to implement one of the things I thought it would, false pricing.  That'll get em' in and on in record time.  And when the actual bill comes?  Too late, so sorry.  Hooked.  Of course, this is from that terribly racist anti-Obama reporting agency otherwise known as CBS.

Ah, back to it a bit.

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Oh, I know, gaming must be seen as sloth.  The difficulty one might have with assigning such a tag to me is that, often enough, I can't even do that.  I used to be a hardcore gamer.  I did play during engineering school, so I am quite capable to splitting my time between wants and needs... mostly.  But until today, I haven't even been able to play.  Too out of focus, couldn't concentrate, and tired enough that playing sort of hurt somehow. 

I am hoping to finish off the trophies for Dishonored.  It isn't my favorite game, though it isn't bad.  Right now I am frustrated with trophies that won't pop.  After working on the last few several times before, tonight I am getting all but, I think, the last, to register when I do the actions required.  I don't know if it is my system or their programming which is causing the problems.  No, some of them I am sure I did.  Just another annoyance. 

I would like to finish up the laundry and at least set the dishes to soak.  I don't know how much I will end up doing, but laundry is required, with a load in the washing machine.  I did turn the thermostat up to 72, as the girls were fussing a bit more than usual.  I might turn it up a bit more, as my body has cooled and 72 now seems a little shy for activity.  If I can get these things done, I am hoping to next begin neatening the two main rooms and working with the camping stuff.  I should be able to knock the rooms out this week.  Then next week my bedroom, and maybe putting up the work bench in the garage.  A man can dream.

Hmm, but a bite to eat, while the cave warms, wouldn't be bad.  I made spaghetti sauce yesterday, but tried whole wheat noodles with my diabetes doing up.  Bleh!  I was able to eat that at one time, but no longer.  I was able to truly brighten the sauce with a few spice additives, but the pasta was so wretched it simply didn't matter.  I may make another batch of spaghetti, this time semolina pasta.  Yeah, it's not as good for my diabetes but I need food I can eat.

I am feeling better about it all.  Oh, and, no... I am not "sore" at God, and I had no intentions of being... improper.  Having seen, but seemingly not been allowed, into the gates... do you really think I would risk the same, at least just to be a little cheeky?  God, I am quite sure, understood exactly what I was saying with that.  I am sure my usage is quite different from the singer's, or songwriter's, usage... but that's not my problem.  It was, actually, a prayer, of sorts.  And some explanation.  I do suffer gladly, knowing there is and will be better.  Even should I be a giant, I suspect, being that I do my best to abide His will, I would, at worst, be simply allowed to be no more.  I don't, honestly, expect that.  Just... a what if.

Ah, after a talk with my mother, I think next spring I may be driving out, if I can afford it.  It is more expensive.  I simply won't tolerate a potential strip search "because terrorism" or such bullshit.  You want to go through it, do so.  If they can't, really, tell one from another, they won't get a nickel of my money.  Driving isn't always the most fun, but it can be entertaining.  I am hoping to direct my travels, this time, and take a little more time, if expense, to see and do.  Even if I can't truly target anything fancy, perhaps I can at least know what I am driving through so have some notion of having been there.  Wherever there may be.  Avoiding nation parks, Colorado, and tourist traps though, is a part of it.  Some places won't receive anything from me, by number or dollar.  Let the wretches choke on their decisions.  Yeah, I'm picky.  So what.

Hmm, on to dinner.  Good... morning I suppose.