| Fuck It |
[May. 18th, 2007|04:53 am] |
Amuck in disgust, mockery ten-fold,
Fuck it, this trust in unjust schlockery,
Abhoring to adoring to explore a rapport,
Fuck it, we ignore the cold facts before us,
Yet behold as bold ideas unfold within thus,
Untold because they hold truth too dangerous,
Unable to be fathomed or ever controlled,
Fuck it as people live and never KNOW.
Fuck it, this is no simple rhyme,
because once upon a time all were one,
their electrons compressed into infinity,
and hurled rapidly across the galaxy,
the mystery connected lightyears apart,
known as the random chance of conciousness.
Vague is our understanding,
of how we observe,
because as we looked closer,
we found something absurd.
Among our brains, in every lobe and crack,
we asked all the chemicals, electrodes,
synopses, cells and emotions,
even tried to deduce a logical pattern,
not a person was there,
who was told to observe. |
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 16th, 2007|03:46 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  indescribable | ] |
Let's begin with the consideration of international economic redistribution of improperly placed funding in developing countries, second world countries and even first world countries such as the ones we live in -- where does all the money go? Well most of the time, it doesn't reach where it needs to get. It just sits idly.
So we can begin, first off, with simply collecting local government records and reorganizing them with our advanced educational opportunities to make an effective, self-sustaining model for that local goverment -- and any local government -- to work off of and begin to afford such basic things as: Medication, Food, Shelter, Relief, Clean Water, Efficient Fuels.. even Cell Phones and Computers.
What's it cost to get an entire developing city online? On cell phones? Let alone an entire country? Well, Bangladesh alone has seen a vast exponential improvement in simply beginning examples of how quickly these people take to cell phones as business opportunity -- thereby solving their own problems with connectivity.
We can thereby assume that connectivity, which costs roughly 10,000,000 dollars; a fraction of the billions tax payers spend on said areas of the world, will exponentially benefit the economy of the local area as well as the manufacturers of other areas who are now connected with these people.
A laptop? 135 dollars. 3 bit pixel, black and white. It doesn't have to be perfect, and it can even be in english -- children of ages 5-8 are now learning english and using a laptop in a world where electricity doesnt even exist for the very first time.
Their first program?
Skype. Internet phone.
Now let's just take a little bit of a psychotrip here; deforrestation of the lands for the creation of fuels...
Fuel alternative for Haiti: Waste from cotton mills.
Fuel alternative for Rawanda: Used corn cobs treated in such a way that it is cheaper, more efficient and longer burning than charcoal.
Fuel alternative for India: Rice Stalks and Corn Stalks which are typically discarded without nutritional value; packed with a slight bit of manuer for ignition and brick-packing to burn longer.
Now let's address the issue of heart attacks: which can now be electronically monitored with imbedded medical devices that detect and respond to the heart attack within a minute of it occurring, in essence when a heart-attack occurs the person watching the machine's reading knows too. The person is then alerted by an external machine, an alarm, to get to the Emergency Room because they're about to have, or are having, a heart attack.
Blindness, which is now curable in the temporary cases through the use of a device known as a Cerebral Cortex, that essentially is a camera wired to some glasses that electromagnetically sends image impulses directly into the brain of people who were not blind since birth. Even more significantly about blindness is to be noted that the leading cause is catarachts. We can cure that, i'm pretty sure. (one of you who might read this may know more)
AIDs and Polio could be handled in much the same way as SARs was handled.
SARs never even reached pandemic state, because of early detection and early response. It was reported by a doctor in Hong Kong and taken care of before it could outbreak terribly.
Smallpox is no longer existant on the face of this earth. Period. One deadly disease, gone. We won. Rejoice, but we're not done.
When people of these poor areas are empowered through projects with the materials needed to design and build their own homes, with pre-provided temporary shelter for them to use on work-sight until their home is built to their exact specifications and desires -- with their own hands. These aren't PHD engineers, these arent master architechts. These are children from ages 7-18; and adults from age 18-60, most of which who are illiterate.
I would like to respect your time and effort in reading all of this valuable information, to bring forward one final point: In a world of infinity possibility, infinity option and ever-expanding resources -- by majority we are unhappy with what we pick, because having something else available outside of that moment is available and daunting.
"Maybe I should have done this, instead of this."
Where people faced with simply one decision and no other way to go about it, are leading much more happy and productive lives while they're poor as shit.
Why?
Because they only have one choice. They chose to be happy with it, and seize opportunity.
Just some things to think about as we head into a new space age in 2012, when the first US commercial flights to space will be possible for the first time aboard Shuttle Busses. By 2020, we will have an orbital hotel hopefully, in which people can stay and orbit the earth on vacation -- even for kicks, you could do an axial rotation around the moon and end up skimming a meager 5 feet from it's surface. Afterall, there is no atmosphere to the moon. We can do that. Large scale orbital projects, are possible. No, probable, and even farther, are in-progress as you may read this.
I hope you take the time to become more aware of these sorts of issues in your day-to-day lives.
K. |
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| (no subject) |
[Feb. 6th, 2007|04:37 am] |
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I think i've decided to get published. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jan. 16th, 2007|07:31 am] |
Alright, so i'm sitting here and in my mind I visualise a dozen people who have access and ability to read this journal. This entry is about you. It's been awhile for the most part. What's up? Remember back when we used to do things together, talk quite a bit and see eachother from time to time -- or every day? Those good old days.
Yeah those times were pretty alright.
These times are better though, so what's new? I mean really, think about it, it's been two years for a lot of you, more for some of you, what's the biggest thing that's happened in my absence? |
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| (no subject) |
[Jan. 4th, 2007|04:43 am] |
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Just updating so I don't fall a year behind. =P Happy New Years. |
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| Dream |
[Dec. 22nd, 2006|01:39 am] |
Perhaps I haven't taken the time to contact each of you and address this, but I have recently realised my dream in life. That is to say, exactly what I want to spend the rest of my existance doing. Rocket Science; to be precise Atronautics and Aeronautics with a side combination of Mathematics, Engineering, Biological and Physical Science. I sure do have my work cut out for me, huh? Why the hell would I want to persue a career in which only a handful of people have only experienced the unwordly benefit of?
Quite simple really. I want to be an astronaut in all but certification, were it not for my uncorrected vision impairment, I would be aiming for the astronaut-level of this category. However the side-option of being the fellow on earth guiding the missions millions and billions of miles away from this rock is perfect for me as well.
To place things a bit poetically, since I have a feeling some people might actually expect me to exude some kind of non-scientific or non-mathetimatically oriented entry...
I wish to paint the endless black void of the night sky with thousands of familiarties. The mysteriousness beyond the atmosphere, where time no longer exists, where day and night are not even plausible concepts, where gravity is absent with oxygen and celestial objects occupy their existance in jealousy. I want to walk in zero gravity, I want to stare into the endless void in awe and have it stare back at me, one man selected among the trillions of lifeforms in existance on this planet, to go out there and stand beyond the clouds.
In thus matters, I feel complete even considering the aspect of achieving such a dream-position. To be paid, occupationally, to rationalize the irrational. |
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| Ha ha ha |
[Dec. 14th, 2006|06:39 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  nerdy | ] |
Schadenfreud,
screw the feud dude,
the decriptitude of ineptitude
is meeting the magnitude of solitude,
this means the aptitude to abstrude
has become lude, rude and crude,
an ineptitude of solicitude,
meant to denude the multitude
of casualty.
So you laugh,
gaff half the graph,
kick-up quick and click
the TV on at three
and disagree with democracy,
free beneath the marquee
of destiny and ambition,
but you fission with ammunition,
firing freely on opposition,
transcend and ascend to reality,
not the abnormality of morality,
or the spirituality of sexuality,
the feel that love is surreal,
that time will heal and reveal,
the uncouth truth of youth,
the little brittle facts
that whittle as you make tracks,
but relax and view the facts,
disagree with diplomacy,
and change the channel to three,
so you can play your X-Box 360.
Maybe tomorrow we tell ourselves,
what if tomorrow we dwell in a bombshell,
fearing the nuclear diplomacy,
since everyone only took time to disagree,
point fingers and anoint a disjoint
of controversy to plea an decree,
passed when nobody was looking,
he was cooking a vast regime,
a dream made a scheme turn extreme,
WMD's were acquired, the ire was dire,
a blow to esteem as we marched,
witnessed the atrocities of man,
the desert leaving us parched,
then the battle began.
Bombs drop over Baghdad
for 10 years to this day,
is it really all okay?
A civillian is a villain
to a tomahawk missle,
all dots are red
on a military guidance computer,
the standard issue gun in the army,
is a fully automatic, which fires at 250RPM,
turning men into swiss cheese,
random citizens are sniped on the street,
by US soldiers who don't understand,
that the plan in the middle east,
is a deceased beast of burden,
who's load was never bestowed,
as bombs explode in the dirt of the desert. |
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| Jean Wyclef |
[Oct. 16th, 2006|08:17 pm] |
[chorus]
If I was president,
I'd get elected on Friday, assasinated on Saturday,
and buried on Sunday.
If I was president...
If I was president
An old man told me, instead of spending billions on the war,
we can use some of that money, in the ghetto.
I know some so poor, they use the spring as the shower,
when screaming "fight the power".
That's when the vulture devoured
[chorus]
If I was president,
I'd get elected on Friday, assasinated on Saturday,
and buried on Sunday.
If I was president...
If I was president...
If I was president...
If I was president
But the radio won't play this.
They call this rebel music.
How can you refuse it, children of moses?
[chorus]
If I was president,
I'd get elected on Friday, assasinated on Saturday,
and buried on Sunday.
If I was president...
If i was president
Tell the children the truth, the truth.
Christopher Columbus didn't discover America.
Tell them the truth.
The truth
YEAH! Tell them about Marcus Garvey.
The truth YEAH! The truth.
Tell them about Martin Luther King.
Tell them the truth.
The Truth.
Tell them about JFK
If I was President
[chorus]
If I was president,
I'd get elected on Friday, assasinated on Saturday,
and buried on Sunday.
If I was president...
If I was president |
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| (no subject) |
[Sep. 6th, 2006|04:04 pm] |
If I may have your attention please for just one moment, I only have two words I wish to announce with great rhetoric and disciplined hatred of absolutely no subjective or objective individuality.
Fuck. You.
That is all, thank you and good night. |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 28th, 2006|09:03 am] |
Even though I havent talked to many of you in literally years, I want you to know I think about you all. Not just some of you, all of you, I checked my friend's list to see if theres anyone I missed, and not a one of you doesnt cross me at some point in my life.
For good and for bad, I cannot lie to that.
I have learned from you all, and thank you.
Much love,
Tugg |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 14th, 2006|08:02 am] |
As I was going over the far famed Kerry mountains
I met with captain Farrell and his money he was counting.
I first produced my pistol, and then produced my rapier.
Said stand and deliver, for I am a bold deceiver.
I counted out his money, and it made a pretty penny.
I put it in my pocket and I took it home to Jenny.
She said and she swore, that she never would deceive me,
but the devil take the women, for they never can be easy.
I went into my chamber, all for to take a slumber,
I dreamt of gold and jewels and for sure it was no wonder.
But Jenny took my charges and she filled them up with water,
Then sent for captain Farrel to be ready for the slaughter.
It was early in the morning, as I rose up for travel,
The guards were all around me and likewise captain Farrel.
I first produced my pistol, for she stole away my rapier,
But I couldn't shoot the water so a prisoner I was taken.
If anyone can aid me, it's my brother in the army,
If I can find his station down in Cork or in Killarney.
And if he'll come and save me, we'll go roving near Kilkenny,
And I swear he'll treat me better than me darling sportling Jenny.
Now some men take delight in the drinking and the roving,
But others take delight in the gambling and the smoking.
But I take delight in the juice of the barley,
And courting pretty fair maids in the morning bright and early. |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 10th, 2006|12:29 pm] |
I move.
I breathe.
I think.
I am.
I move.
I breathe.
I think.
I am.
I move.
I breathe.
I think.
I am.
I am.
I am.
I am. |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 10th, 2006|12:18 pm] |
Right, well, I pretty-much am awake by day now, anyone who wants to come and visit me wont have trouble getting in touch with me.
I almost forgot that people were seeking me, we have two puppies now! Full-blooded german shepards, their parents were police dogs. The girl already has the stance down, and seems to prefer the name 'Holly.' Kinda ironic since thats the street I live on. O.o
Anyways, the male is un-named. We dont really know yet, we're trying 'Tiny,' but he's a bit too young to be responsive to anything. Amended: Except food.
Both are about one month old I guess.
Uh.
Yay Puppies. Smart puppies. |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 4th, 2006|09:03 am] |
Good morning everyone.
Might not be morning when you read this,
but its morning here as I type it.
The sun has risen, its a beautiful day.
Enjoy it.
For me? :) |
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| Vote Robocratic |
[Jul. 12th, 2006|07:24 am] |
Down with humans! Up with robots!
Vote Robocratic next election!
Robot for President! |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 7th, 2006|07:31 am] |
I woke up today and my ears arent ringing. No more whispers crawl within my skull.
I think its gonna be a good day. :) |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 29th, 2006|07:47 am] |
Sitting upon a rotted log, counting the marshmellows in the sand,
I consider life while sipping the tangerine cola in my hand,
Watching my reflection in the vibrant green pools,
Fish swimming about in neon pink shaped to mules,
Darting and bucking, thrashing the calm green waters blue,
I tip my yellow hat off my head, and look forward with you,
Out upon the billions wandering upon the stagnant dirt,
Squishing marshmellows at their feet on cobblestone walls,
Vertically walking in a horizontal fashion,
Oxymoronic redundancy creating their world,
The strained-glass works of Mike Mikeson,
Lining the windows of houses and buildings on the busy streets,
Curved and blown to inadequate angles,
Depecting scenes of murder on every doorstep,
Glorified in the passion of his works,
Mike Mikeson became legendary with his flames and marshmellow sand.
The endless rows of trees planted by John Johnson,
Sprouted from the rarest of non-existant places,
Trees the size and shape of mountains,
Supporting the world's gravity and pulling everyone down,
Swaying freely in the wind at their base,
Though their obsidian leaves stand rigid and dead.
The legendary artistry of Tom Tomson,
Paintings of photographs lost to the digital revolution,
Songs and poems of cameras, technology both ancient and fragile,
Recording history as he sees it among the green waves,
Splashing them blue to a rocking-horse lullaby.
Mickey Mouse dances across the heads of these,
An M16 slung over his shoulder beckoning to save the game,
That the times ahead are tough, the roads are unmarked,
And not a thing will make sense,
No matter how familiar the words may be. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 29th, 2006|07:12 am] |
Artistically speaking, I guess I might feel inspired.
Each time something gloriously begins, the end is lodged inside my mind,
through my eyes, I see through my right eye only blind,
through my left eye, I focus clearly and see the world turning,
the millions of miles spinning through space,
revolving around a single sun for only billions of universal years,
it was created and born just as we,
the earth has seen many atrocities,
many brilliant reprecussions both vile and devine,
we have born upon this world a colossal society,
built of diverse humanity across timeless lands,
not a one soul aware of the end of it all,
when the world finally dies,
and falls into the universe.
Eh, guess thats pretty good. I'll post it.
Oh yeah, to those that didnt know i'm cross-eyed and exactly what that means: I have never, in my entire life, ever, been able to focus through both eyes at once. |
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| Baghdad |
[Jun. 29th, 2006|06:41 am] |
When Islamic armies were the most powerful in the world, conquerors of Asia Minor and North Africa, and poised at the gates of Europe in the 8th century, Abu Hanifa, founder of a school of law in the city of Baghdad, proposed that the killing, maiming and raping of civilian noncombatants in war be forbidden. It was one of the first attempts to codify some kind of moral and legal restraints on civilized societies engaged in the dangerously uncivilized practice of warfare.
If and when war comes to Iraq, it will likely feature the relentless and perhaps unprecedented bombing of Baghdad. According to CBS News and other sources, the United States is considering implementing a strategy called "Shock and Awe," developed in 1996. The plan could result in at least 300 Tomahawk cruise missiles raining down on Baghdad in just the first day of an aerial campaign - more than were used on all targets in the entire Gulf War. And the plan calls for an equal or greater number on the second day as well, up to 800 total, each capable of carrying 1,000 pounds of explosives. There was no estimate of how many days the bombing would continue.
The bombing and havoc may already be starting by the time you read these words, although according to Los Angeles Times reporter Doyle McManus on the Washington Week in Review, "You can pretty well mark on your calendar March 15. " It's the date formerly known as the Ides of March.
-- Bombing Baghdad into 'shock and awe'; William S. Kowinski; Sunday, February 16, 2003
The date is June 29th, 2006, and today I feel as though I am falling off the world.
Monday:
June 26 brought a sharp increase in violence, highlighted by two bombings at busy Shiite markets, one in northern Baqubah and a second in Al Hillah. A suicide bombing and a spate of other shootings and bombings in Baghdad demonstrate the continued fierce and effective opposition to Operation Together Forward that flared up about two days after the operation began. While violence has returned to levels not seen since before Abu Musab al-Zarqawi's death, June 27 and 28 have not seen a continuation of Monday's attack levels.
-World Terrorism Report (Look it up on Google)
From Wikipedia:
The City of Baghdad has 89 official neighborhoods within 9 districts. These official subdivisions of the city served as administrative centers for the delivery of municipal services but until 2003 had no political function. Beginning in April 2003, the U.S. controlled Coalition Provisional Authority (CPA) began the process of creating democratic local government institutions.
Demographic estimates based on the 1987 census reflected an increase in the urban population from 5,452,000 in 1970 to 7,646,054 in 1977, and to 11,078,000 in 1987 or 68 percent of the population. Census data show the remarkable growth of Baghdad in particular, from just over 500,000 in 1947 to 1,745,000 in 1965; and from 3,226,000 in 1977 to 3,845,000 in 1987.
--------
How many people did we kill?
I say again, I feel like im falling off the world today. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 29th, 2006|06:37 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  ditzy | ] |
Weapons are the tools of ill omen
Wielded by the ignorant.
If their use is unavoidable,
The wise act with restraint.
The greatest sorrow is to be a veteran,
Witness to the atrocities of humanity.
If you hold a real weapon in your hand, you will feel its character strongly. It begs to be used. It is fearsome. Its only purpose is death, and its power is not just in the material from which it is made but also from the intention of its makers.
It is regrettable that weapons sometimes be used, but occasionally, survival demands it. The wise go forth with weapons only as a last resort. They never rejoice in the skill of weapons, nor do they glorify war.
When death, pain and destruction are visited upon what you hold to be most sacred, the spiritual price is devastating. What hurts more than one's own suffering is bearing witness to the suffering of others. The regret of seeing human beings at their worst and the sheer pain of not being able to help the victims can never be redeemed. If you go personally to war, you cross the line yourself. You sacrifice ideals for survival and the fury of killing. That alters you forever. That is why no one rushes to be a veteran. Think before you want to change so unalterably. The stakes are not merely one's life, but one's very humanity.
"I think its time we all get angry. Not angry and pick up a gun, but angry and open our minds." -- Tupac
I find it odd that my exact thoughts 2 years ago on this day, are the same. |
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holy_smackdown's journal