Monday, February 23, 2009
Friday, February 20, 2009
We begin the process of poop with a little nutrition - what we eat. An average human body ingests about 2,500 calories a day. The average body expends roughly 4,000 kJ in a day. In all of this transformative mess, the body ingests food, and turns the calorific food energy into transmittable heat and body energy. The heat energy we expend is transmitted to the atmosphere at our 37.8 degree Celsius bodies.
It all begins with a smell - the odorous olfactory nerves twitch with the excitement of being woken up - the unfamiliar alien vapours infiltrate the cavities of the body, triggering the cerebral nature of our beasts - we smell bacon... we drool. The puddles collect in our potters, ready for the next step to this trip to heaven - our taste buds. Quickly, the greases penetrate the rough patches of the tongue twisting twaddle of twenty twinkled twitches - sending more nirvanic blasts to the brain. In all the excitement, the twist of the tongue shoots the pork-pulled platypus down it's hole, ready to be savoured by the body graciously.
As the twisted lumps of biologically enhanced matter splashdown into Cape Canaveral, the rocket engines fire - as the epiglottis direct traffic from main control in Houston. Here, the native beings of our bodies begin their religious right - Houston called for enzymatic and acidic support of the lost cargo. Here in the bowels of the stomach, our great defender, Pepsin, armed with a ceremonial vial of destruction, horde off the invading microorganisms hiding in the deeps of the lost cargo - no Trojan surprises on this voyage...
The average human body poops about 0.36 kg, or 0.8 lbs. For every thousand people, that's 360 kg, or 800 lbs. Thankfully, my olfactory nerves are nowhere near smelling anything right now, so here goes - poop steams heat - poop generates gases - poop came from our bodies - poop is not disgusting and poop can be very, very useful. One thing I have never done, is experiment with my own poop - you can thank my mother for teaching me those lessons - but on average, most organic material on our planet contains about 4000 kJ/kg of material, energy which is transferable to heating homes and lighting light bulbs. What's more, is that poop is normally mixed with paper, and water - two vital ingredients to the magical transformation of decomposition - carbon and aqua. With these ingredients, the concoction can be stirred and digested to transform our poop into biogas and fertilizers - no fuss - no muss - no puss - wam, bam, thank you mam! So if we can generate poop - we can think that we generate our own heat and energy source - ah shit!!! For every 5 people, that would be 7,200 kJ - or enough energy to heat about 20% of your home (~40,000 kJ per day for home heating). Imagine that - you take a dump in the morning, and some of your energy bill is paid off! Holy shit...
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Monday, February 16, 2009
I recall catching my first NHL (National Hockey League) game a few decades ago - the ice was sheen and blanketed with a intersurficial layer of sweat and spittle - blades swerved through the cracks, spinning in infinite signs of valour and bravery - occasionally making contact with the rubber duck - which was as elusive to the goalie's glove as it was to the naked eye - pacing and darting from one corner or another, the goal was to shoot the duck and catch the prey in the net.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
I’ll start this post off with a glass of half infinite matter – I love rocking chairs. Feels like floating on the Pacific with the control of the waves at your fingertips – peacefully back and forth, nothing rocking more than the nauseating balance of your feet. If by chance the rocking nature of my feet bring an excess of imbalance, It’s diagnosed within milliseconds to ease the steady tapping of my foot to a slower pace of life.
There are often times that my feet tap furiously – as if the angry depths of Hades themselves are stirring to be heard. It is, often, mistaken that the definition of Hades is in fact differentiated between Ancient Mythology and Christian interpretation. The Christian interpretation involved fear that the soul will remain in Hades for eternity, and that the gates of Heaven determined if you were granted admission (don’t forget the popcorn) of peace, or be tormented for eternity in the underworld, or Hades. However the underworld, in Greek Mythology, was simply a division of all the matter in our known planet. Zeus got the Skies. Poseidon got the Seas. And Hades got the Underworld, or the Earth. Hades was crowned as a God, as the Greek God for the Land of the Dead. A soul-keeper and, I would assume, soul-giver.
The Roman Empire, as part of the great ancient Roman civilization who were greatly influenced with Greek Mythology, was the glorious start of the new realm of civilization – a Senate and Governmental structure that could feed a nation with conquests and new beginnings. That new beginning, of course, could be defined by the Roman’s development of the Calendar, which first began it’s use in 46 BC, and closely resembles the current calendar used in today’s society. That new beginning, of course, could also be defined by the Roman’s donation to the Church.
Donation of Constantine
The air is fresh, a mist of pollen revives the outside world. You Spring open your windows and let the fresh moist air in – you grab a broom, you sweep you clean – you grab a box, you pack, you donate.
A donation is, at times, the most precious gift one person can give to another.
As a young boy – born 272 as Flavius Valerius Aurelius Constantinus, Constantine I learned in the open fields of the region currently known as Serbia, and soon honed his craft in militaristic strategy in the Roman Army.
Through discussion, education, meandering and prospering, Constantine I quickly gained power of the Roman Empire, ruling lands from Britain, Gaul and Spain – and it was quick to be known as the first Christian Emperor of the Roman Empire. In 313, he begun by removing a ban on promoting Christianity and returned all confiscated Religious possessions. Perhaps at least one of these moves was right… he later established the position of the Christian Emperor of the Church, in order to ensure that God was properly worshipped in his empire, and here I thought Gluttony was supposed to be a Sin… Constantine I also established as policy to forbid Jews against converting Christians to Judaism – or face penalty of being burned alive...and here I thought Wrath was supposed to be a Sin. In 316 he acted as judge on dispute involving the Donatist - and ended up leading an army of Christians against the Christian Donatists – a breach of intra-Christian persecution – and here I thought Envy was supposed to be a Sin.
If you read up on the link to the Donatists, you’ll notice that they were essentially robbed of their free rights and robbed of their lives. One thing that remains a mystery of Constantine I were his final years and the purported Donation that followed – perhaps Constantine I felt compelled to give back in his final years – the Donation of Constantine purports that in he donated dominion over the lands of Judea, Greece, Asia, Thrace, Asia, Africa and the entire Western Roman Empire to Pope Sylvester I. An honourable gesture of a dying man’s last breath – the donation of dominion and domination of nations. Constantine I was also baptized in his final days, according to the lore of the Donation – perhaps after his lifetime of sins, the Catholic Church had brought peace when he died in 337. Perhaps Constantine I wasn’t going to Hades after all…
The Fall of the Roman Empire
I once heard that history books were written by the best military strategists – people who observed ways to manipulate information to persuade a reader into believing a fact, or fiction. The history of the fall of the Roman Empire is perhaps well documented history – in 395, the Roman Empire, emperors were mere figureheads – Barbie dolls to play with while the G.I. Joes, the military rulers, the Wolves in Sheeps Clothing – hid in the shadows directing their play. Revolution occurred – and the rest is history.
At the time Rome was in ruins, the papacy had become quite the political player – infiltrating missions of hope and the word of God to areas of Germany, Ireland, England, France and throughout Western Europe. It was clearly evident, that the fall of the Roman Empire, even though it was bestowed to the papacy, did not affect catholic, wide-ranging reach.
Sorting the Rubble
Tax season is right around the corner – no better time for a little Spring Cleaning to find out how much you get, or how much you owe. I think I’ll end up owing this year. I don’t think I gave back or donated much last year, and unfortunately I can’t put anything into the Dependant’s category - I haven’t adopted any kids lately…
Although adoption numbers, at times, scare me.
Adapted to breath. Adapted to smell, adapted to taste, adapted to touch, adapted to feel, adapted to speak, adapted to listen, adapted to think. But we for some reason, are not all adopted. In 2002, the US adopted 19,613 children internationally, and 127,000 children domestically – a number that does not fluctuate too often, year to year.
Adoptions are usually carried out through public or private agencies – where public agencies require about $0 – 2500 of money, or private agencies, set-up as non-profit sponsorships, require approximately $4,000 - 30,000
Donations to God
An apple is a paradox in the beholder’s mind – this was something I wrote just to get a momentary reflection of its meaning – only to realize that it’s nonsense. Nonsentious meanmerings and prolifications embiggens me – the Minister once told me. And I gave – and I gave.
In 2002, approximately 2.6% of a US citizen’s income went into donations to the Christian write. With a total population of 159,000,00 in 2001 (76.5% of total population), the Christians write a tale of prosperity, of peace, of freedoms.
In 2003, the median household income of the US was $45,000 per year. If we equate this to the price of prosperity, of peace, of freedoms – this costs the median household income of the US $186 billion dollars per year.
I know we currently speak our economic jargon in trillions of dollars today – popping up as deficits, only to see our shadow, and quickly ducking under the covers of sunlight. But even a paltry $186 billion dollars would buy me all the cabins and lakes and creeks and infrastructure I could ever need – I’m curious to find out how it is spent.
Accepting a Path
I was quite uneasy about finding some results – the edginess of the conundrum played its tune on the tiniest piano – the adoptive donation of the writings of the Bible. Through operating under the role of non-profit organization, adoptions can be set up through the church to find all the statistical genetic makeup of your dreams; find it at http://statistics.adoption.com/. You can also find a similar website for the churches’ option here at http://catholic.adoption.com/. Similar website, similar goal.
The church, can provide safe haven, and a shelter to spread His word. To properly spread a word, however, one must be truthful. One cannot deny one’s own past and can’t falsify records. Blasphemy should be a Sin. A shelter must provide the safe haven, in order for adopted child to prosper, as the writer’s tale says – a shelter cannot do harm – to Sloth is a Sin . The safe have must protect the adopted child from prey – to Lust is a Sin. Details of these Sins can be found here: http://www.amfor.net/church.html, another site dedicated to adoption donations.
It does bother me that the amount of money that could be used to shelter people, provide health, provide energy, provide comfort, is being used for Malfeasance. I do like initiatives the some governments take to cut spending on Religion. But for every penny earned and spent, I’m not quite sure how to solve the adoption issues. Perhaps we need to abort mission and return to our home planet – we were quite out in space on this one…
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
I hate planning. Yes I know, more complaining and whining – but I like to think that it’s more scepticism taking control of my fears. I’m sceptical that at some point in time in the near future, I won’t be feeling the same urge to play the fiddler’s tune – fortune-telling is a witchcraft I don’t quite abide to well. For instance, I’ve made plans to meet with some friends over the next week, but I don’t know if that day will be one of those on-the-couch-exhausted from running the hamster wheel all day days…
My hatred of planning extends to other realms of the outside world too… for if a wonderful Saturday is planned, jotting off to the mountain tops, whistling in the woods, hearing if a tree truly makes any noise in the great outdoors – a rain may come and spit upon the day from the skies by mother nature… then I don’t have a choice, I’m disappointed in the rubble of the plans. Today was the day of my Spring Cleaning - the task to rid my rooms of ruin, rubble and ravageness, but instead, Spring was delayed when the groundhog bit his shadow and nature blanketed the ground with white droplets of water to send the boroughs to sleep.
When some plans don’t work out, the rubble of the ruins needs rebuilding, needs restructuring to repair the impairs of the devastation. The great coliseums weren’t even immune to the great collapse of a plan in ruins. Much planning always needs restructure. The only way to restructure is with some fundamental mechanical and civil engineering principles – throw everything at it and the kitchen sink, and see what works and what doesn’t. Always reminds me of the youth and their silly pranks suspending a Volkswagen Beetle from rafters and ceilings.
At the onset of the rubbled mess, we can begin to strategize a path to repair the impair. As mentioned, finding a curtain to pull over the stars and call a home to rest weary eyes in peace is the first priority – but structure and repair also need infrastructure. The things that tie us together – the gravity in perpetual motion design – the magnets that propel us to the stars… infrastructure.
Call them underground tunnels, call them strings across the sky, the pipes and channels and transmissions that pull us tight and ring our phones is infrastructure. Over the past century our infrastructure development has paved the way to our two great Oceans. From sea to shining sea, the prospects of seeing a light at the end of the proverbial tunnel is only a short distance away. A gentleman once told me he saw a train at the end of that tunnel – I scoffed and wrote his buffoonery off to the light-hearted conversation of pumps and pulleys. Infrastructure can never lead us down a railroad track – well, I suppose it could…
To tie our things together, we first need a gift – something that would be cherished for a life time. Freedom was the first gift – and we built our highways to feed our tunnels with the wildest dreams of the oceans. Our freedoms from sea to sea. Our next gift, wrapped tightly in a knot, was our comfort, or our energy supply – gas and juice. 5 amperes, 120 volts and you’ve got yourself one helluva light bulb there James Watt! To feed our thirst for gas and juice, we set up networks of tightly bound energy streams, all pumped and drilled and connected to our little dots in the distance – we are our own tiny little lights at the end of a long tunnel. And we drink the gas and juice. We revel in it’s moisture-rific succulence and we crave to have more, like the nicotine addict to the patch.
Fire Class C Extinguisher
The thirst for moisture and water to prevent our dehydration is innate – we must have these comforts in order to survive. The infrastructure for water supply is solid, not quite for the whole of the worlds, but if we can fix ourselves, we can help to fix others. The thirst however, is never satisfied in the world of entropic energy. The petroleums that drive our worlds. The next gift to tie our things together, is to open up a present and to find a nice warm hand-sewn blanket – a comfort. An infrastructure system dedicated to tying in our solar panels, our geothermal wells, and our wind farms. These remote locations of the world can now be our sparks of safety flares in the distance. If we build this gift to ourselves, we’ll be unwrapping more presents by the next celebration of Christ – we’ll have jobs to support this development – rigs, platforms, kaleidascopes, mirrors, squirt guns and bulled horns – we need this to be the next great pioneering campaign. I could never imagine a pioneer without an altruistic sense of purpose – a pioneer dreaming of freely blowing winds, soft billowing clouds of steam beneath us, or eternal sunshine glowing brightly into the phosphorescence of our souls.
We can build this – we just need to first think about what we can build with our heaps of junk in our garbage cans. By the time the garbage stinks enough, the methane gases will rise and spark with light bulbs going off above our heads. We just need to think about these things that tie knots.
“Real courage is risking something that you have to keep on living with, real courage is risking something that might force you to rethink your thoughts and suffer change and stretch consciousness. Real courage is risking one's cliches."
Tom Robbins - Another Roadside Attraction
Monday, February 9, 2009
In my bed I sleep. It’s comfortable, it’s pillowy, it lets my dreams float on to images of the universe. Fantastic colours weaving and shaping – my inner psyche unleashed. The dreams have been peaceful, with the exception of an alter universe of myself with an obese walrus…
I sleep on my stomach, with my back to the stars. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s knowing the roof above me will hold. I’ll always have shelter. I don’t think I’d be able to dream without a shelter, staring into space at night would keep me awake. A Universe in my own backyard.
Lately I haven’t slept well. Bed Bugs Bite I suppose. Maybe my roof is collapsing. But I also live in a property which is rapidly losing value. The property I bought is more suited for renters and transients – as is what I presumed when I bought it. I wasn’t a renter – but was I a transient? Thermodynamics tell me a transient state is steady-state – and there is way too much entropy for me to stay transient! So I now face a property that I don’t want, and I don’t need.
When I bought the property, I planned to find a suitable renter one day, and provide a shelter for someone. The place is small, easily maintainable for the organized and has brought me comfort for the last 2 years. But I don’t need it now. It may be tough to find renters at this time, mind you, it may be tougher to find buyers. While randomly being excited, I came across the concept of rent-to-own.
Simple in nature, but intended to ‘ease’ a buyer into a home, the concept is this:
1 – a buyer pays both rent and an amount of Principle every month.
2 - The Principle is an amount to save up, stored away for that rainy day – down-payment day.
3 – Rent is provided for the seller to make mortgage payments owed on the property.
4 – When the down-payment day is reached, at some point in time, let’s say 3 years from now, the saved money from the Principle is used as down payment for purchase of the home, or let’s say 5% of the total purchase price (it can be 10%, it can be 20%).
5 – the sale price of the home will be determined at the time the lease-to-sale agreement is reached.
6 - the renter and seller, will provide a shelter for the duration of the ‘renting’ period, or 3 years, as above.
7 – at the onset of 3 years, the renter can choose to purchase the agreed price with the saved down-payment, or forfit the down-payment as penalty so the seller can re-balance the ongoing mortgage payments or equity building.
What also keeps me awake are noises. Noises along my street – noises in the air. I sometimes think to myself – do I really own my home? I sometimes think no – right now, my bank does, and I pay interest. And quite a lot of interest.
Its sometimes tough selling kool-aid to a crowd of bloated fish. When I observed the beginning of the collapse of the housing market in the U.S., I was in Philadelphia at the time, city of brotherly love. I drove out to Amish country, out towards Reading – a quiet technological hub. The serene morning drives along the superhiways brought me to see my first cooling tower – a spectacle of concrete and imagination. The drives also brought me through signs of trouble ahead – everything for sale. The Mindy’s and Maxes smiling away with a fake plastic, eager to please and eager to gain – come take a business card - You can see my feign before the pain… Homes were abound and eager to be bought! The madman’s cabaret of high-risk gambling feeding off the promises of ownership to all with the quick signature and zero down was a dance that will not be forgotten. The crunch locked things up. The crunch stopped the leaky drain. The crunch stopped the northern brigade.
I do blame part of the credit crunch on my current blissful unemployment. I live in a city that is currently feeling it - a city that brought promises of prosperity and home ownership, only to find out it wasn’t sustainable. The good times may be gone, but they won’t be forgotten. The city may dwindle a few transients away, but the boom times have definitely brought a new enlightenment to what is sustainable and what isn’t. High risk speculation may have drowned a few rats in the city I live in, but rats always seem to endure – at least the people that are somehow tied to the city will stay. People that still dream of prosperity.
I once thought to myself, do I really need to own a home? Or am I just renting it until I pay my toll along the River Ganges? The method in which mortgages were handed out to anyone passing by worried me at the time. Pressure being enforced by all, realtor, seller, and buyer. At no point were renters ever considered. And I do like this concept – a renter with vested interest to be a buyer one day. And I do like the concept that this type of transaction can be carried out without the Max and Mindy’s spewing cookie smell from a spray can.
I’d love to own a home one day. My piece of the world. The ethics that were followed in the collapse of the banking world cannot be a part of my piece of the world. Housing strategies need to be revised. They need a clear and concise review of how this happened, and where the leaks were. A leaky roof sometimes won’t go fixed until the landlord is notified. Let’s figure out how to get people into homes properly, without loopholes, catamarans, burgoo, bruxer, or brummagem. Get the housing system fixed before anything else… get people into homes.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
It dawned on me the other Day - how random things are. I ran into an old friend. Just walking to a grocery store, and there was this talking bottle of Heinz 57 Ketchup - mixed from authentic backgrounds, but as western as an old dirty cowboy. He rustled up to me in his chinks and boots, smoking his Malboro. Well what the fuck? I thought the same. In all of the vast area of the city, we ran into each other at the parking lot at 9:30 pm. I was searching for toiletries; he was out on a date, typical Wayne.
It also happened a few weeks back, Day's it seems though - walking along a path to nowhere, with somewhere in mind - I passed a dog I was in love with - an Akita Inu. These breeds were first introduced to me by a sweet angel, and here he was – the first I ever witnessed and knew – an Akita Inu. I mindlessly passed the owners, when no further than twenty paces, I turned to look again at the dog. At the same time, the owner turned around, familiar with my face, and he asked if we knew each other. He was from my hometown. On some random road, at some random time, in another time zone, he realized the randomness of it all, typical Ty.
By pure randomness while writing, I typed in Akeda while searching for a picture of the aforementioned Akita. A random link posted – The Binding of Isaac. These words were never planned to be published, but in the event of the subject hour, I decided to re-shift my attention to this random path. And this is truly a subject that I think is random – Religion. A topic I seldom like to discuss.
I have not read any Religious passages in detail, with the exception of the Tao Teh Ching. As mentioned, I’ve picked and prodded, but this random link to the Akita led me to Akeda, which led me to the Binding of Isaac.
The passage begins with a word from God, requesting the sacrifice, or slaughter, of a man’s only son.
The passage continues with a 3-day travel – the man’s son curiously wondering the final journey – curious to a fault.
The passage is fearful when at the end of the travel, the man builds an altar, binds his son and lays him upon altar and wood – and the father draws a knife blade.
The passage is calmed when an Angel appears, a voice of the LORD assuring to the man that it is known that he is God-fearing – and that the sacrifice is not necessary.
This passage is why I do not understand some Religious beliefs.
I cannot openly accept that any overseeing power would ask us to sacrifice that which is most previous to us – children - I would never accept to send any of my children to sacrifice.
I cannot openly lead a child to danger, no matter what the journey – their curiosity needs protecting.
I cannot openly hurt a child. Never even in my wildest dreams. If I did – I would consult Freud.
I cannot openly believe in a God that casts fearful doubts of love to his disciples.
There has been much recent controversy surrounding a group of Atheists in London campaigning for the free right to advertise their cause. For the longest time, I resented their pushy cause for preaching – I don’t need to hear anyone’s Religious beliefs, thank-you. It wasn’t until recently the other Day, that a random path led me to a discussion which allowed me to realize that they weren’t necessarily preaching, they are getting their fair share of advertisement blitzing. After all, if a faith that follows passages dictating us to sacrifice our sons is getting radio, TV, and all types of media play – why can’t the Atheists?
Just to clarify, I don’t consider myself an Atheist. It was the Tao that taught me that
Names can be named, but not the Eternal Name.
It was from the Nameless that Heaven and Earth sprang
Nameless and Eternal sounds find to me.