Carbon Copied

Waning Gibbous

2011-04-22T22:44:00.000-07:00

Like clockwork, it happens - with a tick tock of beating hearts it never fails, two weeks a month, a beautiful visitor peeks the rays of desolate sun glare and lights our nights skies in the vast openness of space. La lune floats as a marvelous beacon radiating a connection to terra cotta that is vastly understood, yet eerily misunderstood...

Angularly Momented
It may have happened like the flash of a boiling pot - percolating and pinballing from corner pocket to parking stall - with chaos in full effect as static, dynamic and ultrasonicular forces bounce through the entropy of waves in gravitational crashes. The moon may have held the perfect amount of rotational and angular directions to graze the side of a new and forming earth, resulting in a spin of angular momentum that perfectly caught each others escaping masses to bond in a unison so delicately cherished - the impact leaving a pressurized core and molten spin in the the bowels of earth - almost like the moon had impregnated a special spin in the earth, one that locked the moon in a gravitational pull that would fertilize the world...

Spinning the chords
As the molten core spun, the earth pulled and waned... groaning at the pushing and pulling - the kicking and gases, the surging and swelling - the earth began to show signs stretch marks - scars of mountains rising high from the spin and spun of the molten core... And locked in tight - the moon held onto the gravitational pull of the pregnancy. But even more miraculous that all, the moon held on so tight, that tiny little molecules began to excite themselves, spark energies back and forth - and cycle themselves with the constant tidal pulls and gravitational tunings - these tiny molecules began to dance and twirl. Twisting with twine and tiny little ribonucleic textiles - the twists became more and more elaborate - as if every two-week dance with the moon turned gravitational pulls into tidal tangos of primordial soup and stew. We had some life. The bacteria were born.

The crusts, the clearing, the shield and the trees
Land masses cleared. Dusts settled and the air cleared. The molten core spun through the chaos and filtered the particles of entropy into tiny packets of magnetic energy and shield - and a livable atmosphere was born. So instead of soup and stew of the primordial slop being continuously stirred in the pot - some spilled onto soil and land. Textiles of nucleic acids turned into sun-soakers - the plants - our green-ness. They found some miraculous way of structuring their structures to program a beacon to soak the light of the day and the carbon in the air and turn it into energy and organic matter - and our greens fertilized the beasts.

Waxing Crescent - Step.. by step.. by step.. by step..
With the moon continuing to pull back on the masses, the calcinated creatures of the deep learned how to walk. It was a struggle at first - but they crept... they crawled... they clawed and they clunked their way to find newer, and well.. greener.. pastures. The beasts roared and clamored up the stretching trees - growing to heights and lengths and weights worthy of reaching the moons close touch - so close and a mere 370,000 km wave in the night's sky it would seem too close to be true - and the gravity was bountiful in these days. With the moon so close, our spinning core's pull of weight and tonnage easily offset with the gentle pull of the moon's gravity. So surreal the pull - that beast and birds of giant proportions could support the calcinated structures of bones against the spinning pull of the core. Until it started to drift.

Drifting to Sleep
At a snails pace of toenails spurt of calcinated creation, the moon has been drifting... a drift so slight and sleuth that 3.8 measures of a centimeter per year moves into the deep horizon. So when back in the day of giant beasts and large lizards the moon began to pull away, the beasts and large lizards began to feel the pull of the earth - the spin of the core. Gravity began to pull it's weight as it's forces were dimished - over the course of 145 million years - gravitational forces from the moon and earth reduced 6% - and the weight of the world came crashing down on the dinos and giant ducks - the calcinated structures so strong and sturdy could no longer hold their weights - the true death of the dinos could be the waning and drifting moon - no longer as close as can be.

So as we find the mammals and fishies and birdies and lil lizards now roaming with a wave now over 384,000 km away, the moon still flourishes us with constant gravitational pull and cycled determination. It will hold on tight from generation to generation. But as bones grow to great lengths, the pull of the earth is always increasing. We must always return to the earth. It is truly, our only real destiny.

1.6% of my life...

2011-04-07T20:31:00.000-07:00

Stretched Thin

As my back tightens, and my shoulders feel the brunt of the long hourly grind of pushing little woven fabrics of pulped and processed bits and pieces of information through the highway of idiocracy, I find solace in my ultimate saviour - the intra-wide web. As my fingertips roll through the preemptive strikes on the keys, as if muscle memory for every nerve of my occular beings are transmitted through the clicks of a mouse, I find myself amused. Our national pride is on display as our nation prepares for it's future ride with another Prime Minister.

Circling the Wagons

Our candidates are well known - the massed presses of the media outlet won't skip a beat - they'll pound every story whether the material is soft, hard, woven, piece-mealed, clovered or rednecked - and clearly our country is full of them. But maybe what isn't quite being covered is their respective approaches to their tactics; one using Republican-style smack down with daunting voices and nervous contempt, another almost being a complacently terrible used car saleman, almost as if his half-crooked smile is repeating: "C'moooon.... this other guy's a crook", and the three others just trying to keep their pasted smiles from slapping the first two.

In any regard, the opposition has been careful not to tread too deeply into a taboo topic of tankers, trucks and sticky ol' bitumen. Alberta, and ultimately Canada, have sunk our nails deep into the breadth of the beast - Washington, DC. We've sent our finest diplomats and ministers, all to act as our people's voice for our precious product. We're selling our resource - not just to the highest bidder, but to our closest neighbour.

Not quite Tar... Not quite Oil... Is it Chicken!!!?

So the Oilsands, tarsands, whatever. It's actually called bitumen. Not quite tar. Not quite oil. It's bitumen, stuck in sand. The Natives used to use it to patch their boats with. You see, when cold, it acts like a water repellant, and you can almost make hockey pucks out of it (no wonder us Canadians must love it eh?!). But what it needs to pump and separate from sand is a bunch of heat. Steam to be exact (or hot water, really hot water). So to extract it, we plug in the kettles, sort of - anyways, we burn a bunch of energy - clean natural gas really - or sort of clean if you remember to count the carbon. And then to make sure it doesn't refreeze into hockey pucks, it's mixed with oil. Yes - oil is used to make other oil. Or condensate to be exact. Not quite oil. Only the lightest of oil. Olive oil, almost - well... not quite. Anyways. to sum up, a bunch of wood is chopped down and rivers are polluted - I digress; that's my summary of the oilsands, or tarsands, or bitumen, or oil user, or gas user or tree chopper or river polluter. It's kind of under the spotlight by the US as a not-so-squeaky-clean product.

A Choice of 1.6 Concerns

So in order to make it a squeaky clean product and get the seal of approval to ship it across to our good ol' neighbour, what does our government do? I'll provide two options:

1 - Immediately address elevated levels of pollutants in the waterways by reducing the point source; address climate change by adopting Environment Canada framework for reducing oil sands carbon footprints; develop a strategic outline of responsible resource development through planned, orchestrated production increases

2 - throw millions of dollars towards monitoring equipment and never really stopping the water pollution, scrap the climate change plans, cause hey; what Canadian doesn't want our winter to be a little warmer right? and finally, we'll green light every project that plans to produce bitumen, jam a pipeline down the US's throat by sending a bunch of our best oil saleman (i mean government officials) to lobby on behalf of an industry we own no part of.

Whew....

I find myself flabbergastroided (kind of flabbergasted, but mostly feeling gastrointestinally haemorrhoided) - instead of a government that will keep our air and water fresh and clean, we have to settle for one that's willing to lobby for an industry that employs 550,000 (2006 statistic), or 1.6% of all Canadians (again 2006 statistic). When did 1.6% of us represent a majority? Our statistics are telling us that climate change is real and effects all of us - should our government not be focussed on all of us instead of 1.6%? For myself, I've planted into my leftwinged attitude into a conservative stronghold, left stuck to wonder how so many blindly choose to check a name for fossilized principles - and fossilized truths... we don't own any of it, but we are definitely paying for it.

Bastionated Bastards

2011-04-02T20:27:00.000-07:00

So here it is, a return to the ignorant, jackanape interpretations of the spin columnists, press quotationists and news-junked loyalists.

I’ve sat in a desk over the past years attempting to dodge my counterparts as they heave oil-slung messages of hope for the Great White North’s bastion of barrels. One was quoted as saying: “why don’t we trap the environmentalists with cheeseburgers from McDonald’s and fling them off a tower”, which was my favorite. And although I am temped by delicious cheeseburgers and would gladly consume one even in the face of danger, my interpretative nature questions how an old dinosaur could possibly be so idealistic with a pave and produce mentality that a hatred develops towards anyone who hugs a tree? In any regard, the idealists have come out in force over the years, and are proud and loud of our economic stranglehold.

One such case; today an article published words on the intraweb indicating that our Great White North’s slew of slimy succulent synergistic soup was being hailed by the US President as: “open for business”. Obama was quoted as saying the US would slash US Oil Import by more than 30%. He continued by saying Canada and a handful of other countries would keep the taps open. The spin columnists were able to manipulate the text and identify that can Canada was singled out as a preferred supplier. But I ask, how can we be single out when there are a quote: “handful of others”. We aren’t singled out. We supply, others supply. We are foreign and the US must import our oil. So how did a speech about reducing foreign oil imports and a speech indicating a move towards renewable energy and acceptance that oil will run out an approval to open our taps further and all is peachy-keen in the bastion of bubbly bitumen? It wasn’t. I read the opposite. But maybe I’m full of cheeseburgers…

Lowering the Bar

2009-07-28T10:04:00.000-07:00

Everybody eats - yes? It really doesn't matter if you're a vegan, cow-hide slicer, vegetable monger or a chicken little - food tastes good, and food goes in your belly. It's remarkable what our stomachs can tolerate - the organ itself is by far, in my opinion, the most underrated organ. Yes, the brain gets alot of praise, the skin if often gazed at in mirrors for hours by some, and of course the copulatory members of our bodies are sometimes put on pedestals for showcase, but the stomach can be considered as our personalized waste recycling centres - we take in the good stuff, process it, and spit it out our other ends as a compact receptacle of a black fly's dreams. What's even more amazing- any materials or items that shouldn't be there (like that hotdog I once ate at 3:00 am from the 7-11) are quickly rejected as a foreign material, and regurgitated as filth.

Filth to the stomach is never a pleasant thing.

Crumbling Cookied Monsters

Food today serves the same role it did yesterday, the same role it serves today, and the same role it will tomorrow - nothing has changed in the role of food - I still enjoy a good perogy layered in onions and sour cream as much as I did years ago - but what has changed is the perception of food - the attractiveness of it - its cultural significance - its delectability - and most importantly - its marketability. The invention of a new food is revolutionary - Coca-Cola can attest to that, but the ability to offer and distribute food has also found its own revolutionary path - as although food's role will never change, the layers and levels of intricate impacts from the systemic distribution of food is making it a very scarce commodity.

Food starts its long journey well before we unwrap the preserved goodness from the Twinky, to be a little grandeurous about it, it starts at the sun. Waves upon waves of unkempt beams of light continuously beat down on us, repeatedly bringing free calories for indiscriminatory use. Now the question of what came first: the seed or the leaf brings on nightmares of creationistic dilemmas with the chicken and the egg, but the seed (as does the egg) forms a membrane surrounding complex bits and pieces (or cotyledons and epicotyls, for the lack of a better term) mimicking the steps of its single-celled brethren colluding in the petri-dish. But unlike its single cell cousin, who simply splits into two by the pre-programmed nature to divide and conquer... the seed has another calling - it sings a different tune in harmonic programming... it has the recipe to take those complex bits and pieces, or the C, H, O and N, and line them up in perfect rank and file to form a structure of true magistry - forming the bonds of renewability and growth by simply soaking in the rays of the Sun, and sucking the gases of our grumbling bowels - all through the formation of carbon chains supporting a beacon of Magnesium at the tips of it's chlorophylled antennae.

So after all the steps and pieces and membranes and xylems are put in place by each plant cell, we chop them down. Normally, we grind them into bits in pieces, sometimes, we bundle them up and let the water-logged weight deplete to shippable capabilities. Either way, it's an abrupt intervention to an otherwise simple existence. The next steps in the path of the food's chain is a much more complex, as the layers upon layers of intricate idiosyncratic idealogies hide a worse stench the rotting brussel sprout in the bottom of the refrigerator door.

Oscar Meyers Grouches

It began with a well. Blood spilled like the milk from the cow, and derricks erected beacons of prosperity for the snake-oil salesman - it began with the discovery of another bio-sequenced hydrocarbon - left over from the eons of solitude in utter Om. The remains of once vital beings and organisms were pushed, pressurized, and left to sit... and wait... until the wells were tapped.

At this point, the Earth must have felt a coercive 'oomph' to its lymph nodes as its immune system felt a sudden shock of panic. Penetrating probes were waving shocks of nuisant exploration, and an otherwise delicate balance of life-cycling carbon in the craters and formations of its underbelly was getting a rude awakening. The carbon cycle took an immediate influx towards chaotic principles of Second Law nature, the thermodynamic imbalance was in full thrust mode - oil was pumping, and oil found a home.

Rock oil production, or 'Petr-Oleum', as the Ukrainian contend, first began as a refining process of kerosene from coal. The discovery that hydrocarbons broke down their complex chains through heating spawned a era of quick fix ideas and inventions all designed to make life a little bit easier - but as waist bands expanded around the porkly product of laziness, so did food - easier lifestyles were bred from easy solutions, and easier lifestyles led to comfy couch cushions, and comfy couch cushion necessitated lazy products of consumption - our food.

The key ingredient to the recipe for success is transportation. It worked for Kellogg, it worked of General Mills. The solution was simple - bring in feed products from the cheapest provider to a central location - at this central location, processing would occur, along with packaging for distribution. Sales orders would and could also be filled from this location, however as things expand and grew, private, localized distribution centres could also be set up successfully. The underlining packaging hidden in the layers of the diglycerided preserved goodness of the Twinky was transportation.

Two Headed Monsters

Unlike the network of transportation, which boomed with every oil well that spiked production, the network of food has de-evolved from its once diversified portfolio. It was common to find farms and countryside bungalows full of fresh-picked delectables - ready for a quick wash and cut. Oats, hay, rhubarb, strawberry, cabbage, gooseberry, peaches, grapes, wheat and corn used to be only a quick drive down a country road. As the waves of industrialization swept across ocean to ocean from between 1920-1970, the ability to transport goods over long distances brought microwaveable popcorn, packaged flour, Shake N' Bake - essentially, concoctions of processed goodness in food wrapped its cellophane package across the industrial parking lots of the world. No longer were we required to hunt and gather - we could simply drive down the street and receive a pre-package processed meal ready for the trip through the tracks of intestinally lined walls. What ended up occurring, was a market of supply and concentrate. The demand of large distributors of processed food concentrated the production of said food into localized areas. Farmers began focusing on reserving their land for specific crops - diversification lost its way as Mother Nature felt a stab to the ribcage - from being able to provide what was arguably the seed of sustainable growth - farmers turned to product-specific targeted growth - essentially the same thing a fetish whore does for their clients. And as with the fetish whore who overuses its resources, farmers soon found their land crusty and full of depleted sores - all from overfertilization and overuse.

So as uni-versification goes, transport was the key and concise contributor - trucks ready to ship from Points A to B, X to Y and Z to C. Food began shipping from the farm, being processed at a factory, package and re-distributed - virtually every morsel of food began travelling greater distances than the pioneers who seeded them. A tributary from the food migration was the development of the WASD, or weight averaged source distance, and in areas of the North American continent, WASD has grown to average over 2400 km of travel for a piece of produce to get to the grocery shelves.

And within the complex network of highways paved across continents, the complex network of distributing and processing exploded. Businesses were abound all eager and ready to jump on the next marketing campaign for items like 'Bilk' - beer with milk - and 'Season Shot' - the ammo with flavour - never get bullet taste in your game bird again!... Products could now be shipped across oceans, and allowed to infiltrate a reach of consumerism never seen before. This reach, however, has been stretched to the tensest point in its existence, one could argue.

Snuffleupaging Shot

Through the distribution of food, raw materials are harvested from a farm. At this point, material are typically bundled and packaged for shipping, and are either sent to rail loading stations, a distribution centre. Very rarely are products used locally for sale - this didn't used to be like this... So at the distribution centre, waybills track data and weight at points of sale into the network of uses. Some may go to nearby grocers - but most branch off towards to distant processing facilities. Once processing is finalized, items are repackaged and diverted again to far distant distribution centres once again, which are finally dispersed to local grocers and stocked shelves. In total, from the point of sale to the farmer, in all likelihood, your food as gone through two distributors, a processing or manufacturing company, while utilizing three or more trucking companies to finally hit the grocer's store. In total, it could be reasoned that every morsel of food you buy goes into a percentage of 3 truck driver's wages, 6 accountants fees, 4 lawyers anal gouging, 3 distribution agents and managers procrastinating prognosticating, and numerous board member's increase to share price and dividends. In all of these steps and complexities to eating a meal - layers and layers of occupations and labour are utilized - and within all the layers of labour and utilization is the hidden driver behind escalating costs of food - profit. It seems quite logical, that under a streamlined effort, the magical equation can be dividing into 2 truck driver's wages, 1 accounting fee, 1 lawyer, 1 distribution agent and manager and fewer board member's profit fees - a guess could be made that under a localized supply and demand structure, food costs could be cut in half, possibly twice...

So as layers and steps are added to the food distribution chain, one constant remains in all of heaping costs lumped into the recipe for success - energy use. Energy consumption happens in the farm equipment harvesting the first crop, from the semi-trailers hauling long distances to the processing facility, to the facility's industrial energy use in completing processing. As you drive to pick up groceries, an immediate cost is used in that transport. So in my convoluted rants, one thing is obvious - food and energy are tied at the hip. One thing I pointed out is the scarcity of the situation - as energy goes, so does our food. As energy increases in costs, so will our food. So in a time when debt ratios paint bleaker potential than the market confidence splashed across news pages - our wallets will become lighter at a faster pace. Cheap oil is becoming scarcer and scarcer - the Oil Sands extraction at the edge of the Canadian Shield are evidence of that. So as a resource becomes scarcer, and more expensive - this cost will balloon - and so rises the cost of our food. The barrels of oil have spilled, creating a slippery slope of inflation ready to soak the world - the repercussions of this will become more evident as oil reserves become depleted over the next 40 years...

Count Von Counting Carbon

So food is tied with energy - however energy is being tied with the thing called greenhouse gases. The term 'greenhouse' is typically reserved to a humidity and temperature-controlled environment in which carbon, water and oxygen cycles are in full renewable health. The greenhouse gases which are tied with energy are by no means relateable to a greenhouse. The carbon cycle is in complete disarray as emissions are pumped into the atmosphere, in which the Earth does not possess enough chlorophyll to keep up with supply. The prognosticators will say that this will heat the Earth ever so gently, bringing severe climate change and economic catastrophe. To remediate this, the World is prepared to cap and trade our problem. With cap and trade, we are conscientiously choosing to reduce our emissions whereby every company will be required to reduce or limit the generation of CO2. If the company is not available to reduce or limit the generation of CO2, the company can purchased CO2 credits generated by do-gooders or otherwise.

The items in this proposal that concern me are twofold - the first being that regulating CO2 emissions from companies will allow the company to pass the saving onto the consumer - meaning that every item or service could have an 'environmental CO2 levy' attached to it, either being spelled out such as I did, or being masked away under the 'profit' margin attached to your invoice... This is no further observed than when energy companies declared: "Energy costs to triple with carbon capture". They have already stated that CO2 cap and trade will be passed onto the consumer. The second concern is the market. As fictitious and head-scratching as the question: "What is the stock market?", cap and trade has the potential to tie itself into the speculative nature of confidences, indices, potential and bullish behaviour. As CO2 sinks deeper into the pool of economic divergence, collateral interests and intervening accumulation - we are conceivably seeing the next boom tick tocking its way onto Wall Street. And as CO2 gains value - so does our energy, so does our food and our repeated reliance to the complete acceptance of status quo...

"... chasing the clouds away"

It starts at the Sun. Jimmy Carter first introduced a plan in 1979 - his goal was to provide the United States with energy derived from the Sun - his target was 20% by 2000.

Solar technology today is limited due to limited demand, high cost of raw materials and in general, the total amount of raw materials required. On average, costs range from between $7 - 12 per watt installed. So for 1 GW, it would cost between $7,000,000,000-$12,000,000,000.

The U.S., in 2005, utilized approximately 435 GW of electrical energy. In 2008 the U.S. utilized $700 billion for 'bailout purposes'. In 2009, the U.S. utilized $787 billion for 'stimulation' purposes. In total, some estimates cap the total 'bailout' cost at $4 trillion.

For $700 billion, between 58-100 GW of solar power could be built, or between 13%-23% of the U.S.'s 2005 electrical consumption. For $1.487 trillion, between 123-212 GW (28%-48%). For $4 trillion, between 333-571 GW (77%-131%).

Re-Casting the Street

I've only voted once in my entire life. My first opportunity, I was most likely naive. I didn't have an appreciation for clean streets, affordable housing and the general ho-hum of everyday life. I suppose the politics and government didn't really have any numbers - it seemed all fictitiously instead of sciency. But at my first opportunity to vote - I did - but I didn't know the issues, the campaigns, the slogans, nor the candidates. I felt dirty afterwards... casting my vote for something I didn't know. Every opportunity to vote now still makes me feel dirty - and now I feel like I do know the slogans and campaigns. One promise I always hear is that they will make my tax dollars work. At this point in time, I do see my tax dollars at work, but at the municipal level and provincial levels only. I see hospitals being funded (and cut), roads being paved and streets being cleaned... At the federal level... the level primarily responsible for energy, economic growth and health and environment - we've been two steps behind our best intentions - as much as Canada depicts its economic prosperity and environmental stewardship, we are truly nothing but resource whores - complete with salty lips and salty hips. I can't see any renewable forefront from our borders for quite some time.

In the U.S., the commitment to renewability has been started, although there still exists the opportunity for 'hands in the cookie' jar with the cap and trade. But as iterations go, it's a start... One question to pose however is renewability - the use of free energy from outside sources. Renewability, in it's nature - is free - so as we approach a renewable age by the predated specifications in 2050 - with the 50% reductions or 80% steps to renewability - keep a wonder why things are no cheapers, nor cost effective. The layers of CO2 can infiltrate the food chain, coughing up bubbles and bubbles of hidden inflation - and as the cap and trade systems are being proposed today, consider alternatives, like the direct investment of GDP into renewable energy - essentially allowing the taxpayer to own a renewable source of energy. In direct investment, money will immediately stop environmentalists from spewing greehouse garbage, curtail inflation by helping those apples, pears, dyglycerin, monosodium glutimate and Twinkies be processed a little bit cheaper, all while providing a reduction in wait times at the unemployment office and lighter heat and energy bills.

Sesamic Limbo

I'm on the verge of returning to employed occupation after a long hiatus. I'll be returning as a producing member of tax-paying society - primarily driven as a result of the ever tightening debt-ratio incurred through 7 months of incomeless ratios. But as I've limboed under the bar of debt, I've realized solutions are simple to sustainable budgeting. I've had to change a few habits (like turning the shower off when scrubbing - it's so much more pleasant without a chaotic waterfall) and will still have to change a few (like 3 a.m. hotdogs) but it's a step towards lowering my economic bar towards a more renewable outlook...

When the Well Runs Dry

2009-07-10T14:30:00.000-07:00

Statistics Canada released their unemployment poll results today - on cue and within the call of exasperated whimpering, the results paint a picture of rosey recovery. Lately, the poll results have percolated waves of uncontrollable anticipation in my fragmented bones - each month eagerly anticipating expectations of analytical, statiscally woven masterpieces... this month did not dissappoint...

Spudded Roots

As a Nation, Canada has built itself on living up to the self-proclaimed moniker - "The True North Strong and Free" - it is true that we drink beer, can have cold long winters in the Prairies, and really, really pride ourselves on our resources. The lands of the true north were first settled by the migratory paths of the First Nations, visited by the Vikings, then settled, colonized and patriotized by the British and French, and finally globallized with our hockey haircuts, lumber and hydrogenated carbon molecules. As a young child, I used to honourably chant our national anthem, I would stand proudly and envision our great country full of trees, mountains - mother nature at its finest - it was almost the only thing that would shake off the incurable shyness from my innocent voice... That was until a new slang entered the precipices of the stars and stripes, or red-dyed maple leaf, in the instance of my home nation.

Exporting Pipelines

I was in Pennsylvania at the time, the leaves had fallen and the countryside was darkly stained with the onset of winter in 2007. I was travelling with two older mentors, so to speak, pitching a project which tied directly with the surge in activity in the true north. The Americans, were relatively new to the concept, having received broadcasted analysis from 60 minutes in January of 2006 - they were relatively confused as to why a product would be extracted without generating some type of electricity, or co-generation, as the industrialists coined. In any regard, the moments not spent in meeting rooms were typically consumed driving countrysides which hid peppered settlings from the Amish. What was most noticeable in the quiet moments of contemplative messages exchanged with the ever-escaping horizon were the number of homes for sale dotted along the passing roadside. Curious to my new itch, I inquired on the facts - and was duly noted to hear that an oncoming mess was about to hit homes from west to east, and the turmoil and splatter would not be quick to wash off...

The sub-prime mortgage mess was first explained to me at this time... indexes and confidences were at a peak and markets were ballooning with prosperity and promises of more - people were consuming the words as ravishly as they were their expendables incomes - and an amateur economist with a dime-store degree in engineering mechanics raised on a potato farm from the true north explained it all, or 'forecast' as the top executive economists would publish. It was remarkable really, as studiously as I searched for answers in top-rated publishings and economic magazines - very few verified this madman's claims - an economic crash was as close as assininity was to an ass. But all in cue and on target - banks popped and plummeted as the truth was finally revealed - it seemed as though nobody saw this coming, and the promise of quick relief, blips in the radar, resurgence and recession-proof were soon spread across article to article.

Percolating

As the time ticked by and pages upon pages were reviewed and examined with explanations on how we got here, the promises of relief and returned revenue spread across newsprint, or webpages as we now know them. A new leader of the States proclaimed a calm amongst the masses, and a partial resurgence in the beaten and bruised economy emerged. Economists once again become figureheads in determining the exact length, time, location and speculatory existence of a renewed recovery. Facts and figures in the economists articles were instead replaced with distorted statistics and allegorical words like confidence and sentiment... As soon as consumer confidence was restored, sentiment towards ravishing ourselves with lavishness will propel market emergence - so told the tale of the market economist. But in this tale, a paradox that dances with chickens before the egg is hatched suddenly cracks its embryonic fluids into the skillet of hot kitchens - the masses must first be employed before they can spend - but if no one is earning anything - how can the flirtatious relationship with consumer confidence be rekindled?

Completions

As statistical analyses go, I'm an amateur at best - I once described my experience in collegiate studies in Statistics as more favourable than an enema, yet slightly worse than a kick in the balls... But as statistical eggheads go - my shortcuts and lazynesses have led to observatory embellishments.

For starters, unemployment continues to be the key figure in restoring a healthy economy - but at the present moment, we are stalled in the effort to lower unemployment. The statistics released today have been proclaimed as 'the relief we needed' - as if the published letters were acting as the Advils and Aspirins in our worries. But hidden amongst the straw and haystacks from the plains of the true north's statistics are the summer surges of part-time playbooks - data which doesn't represent the true plight of our struggles as companies have recast their votes in the survival to compete in an everclosing competitive industry - part time statuses have surged, even the senior populace of 55+ have returned to work, no longer supported by their peers and families - and have begun overtaking the youth in employment - a decrease in youth's work means an increase in family support - and an increase to the debt ratio of the normalistic household family. Yet many pieces of the puzzle have yet to be revealed - unemployment statistics only tell tales of scripted categorical numbers - what truly reveals the health of the economy is the total income of our patrons - and by part-time status surges - this indicator could well have taken the biggest hit of all...

Another note in note taking is that a recent development at the G-8 summit proclaimed a standard for combating the global climate change war. The highly developed nations have set their sights on an end-target. Yet as the stools stood in the wake of shadows, our leader shook a hand in the slightest of contradictory poses - the aides and cabinet walkers perhaps could not mime the puppet to speak its spoken scripts: Canada committed to the global war against heat. Yet hidden in the black bunkers of the bases in our fortresses, the commitment seems to contradict the cavalry of cowboy connoisseurs of synthetic crude oil that our leader sent to the south - and in committing to the cause, we could have possibly committed economic suicide - our prized possession of economic prosperity and fortitude has little bubbles of oxygenated carbon seeping from it's barrel - our prized resource has suddenly been labelled as the key enemy in the fight against climactic terrorism. It's as if the good minister of masses nodded politely as the pain from the bullet shot through his foot surged the nerve cells towards complete agony.

Another noted inquiry of observational madness I've made, is that the housing bubble we once created has been held firmly in place with branches of structure from the CMHC. At the time of the bubbling burst, we surged and stressed our debt indicators to a capacity never before seen - investors flocked like seagulls to the discarded breadcrumb - increasing borrowing limits to the teetering totter of a leveraged crutch. The bankruptcy statistics are showing this - the foreclosure statistics continue to mount - yet we continue to build and build. The bounty of the surge jacked up the rates on home ownership from 2004-2008 by 80% in some cases, and although the customary 20% regression has been experienced and tolerated, it is far below the

additional 25% regression required to match the normalized 5% trendlined increase of a 'regular growth' product such as real estate experiences. In my layman perspective - alot of money will be lost in fictitious equity as things slow down to the pace that growth should have occurred - we hit a pre-pubescent growth spurt, and the true north strong and free is become feebly weaker and fainter in our chants.

A final allegory to consider: the re-emergence of another U.S. housing collapse. The initial surges were positive in wiping out the bad debt owed by the sub-prime mess - but as waves and surges go, the sub-prime fiasco instigated a propelling tsunamic force that led to economic collapse and high unemployment. As months continue to roll from new moon to new moon, wallets have become squeezed, and the 'practical' home buyer - those that were employed and positioned a valid mortgage - will emerge as the next purveyor of lost fortunes - the U.S. is precipitously balancing on another hit to it's homefront - a population of bad debt cratered from unemployment... And as patriotism drums fainter and fainter beats, Canada, whose exports are up to 75% tied to the tune of the withering drums, will be suffering a similar fate - a wave of increased unemployment will surge through the ranks of consumerism bringing increased tension, retrospected perspective and the review of how things unfolded...

Abandonment

The above noted stripes in my critical stance on the Canadian economy can easily be defined as pessimism - the outlook I paint is gloomy, as an economist would note. However the pessimism emitted is rooted in reluctance towards the blind optimism portrayed by our media-hungry economists - it seems that the prevalent thought is that optimism breeds confidence and sentiment. It's my pessimistic viewpoint that highlights that blind optimism always has that twinge of faith and the unknown - and when things are unknown, how can confidence spread? Confidence is the ability to know how things works - to know what's what is who's who... confidence is the surge of information and quick acknowledgment of any situation and it's outcomes - and right now - no one seems to know what the economic recovery will look like... As it stands, we're shifting our employment towards seniors - our youth will be suffering a setback in their money tree seeds - our employers are trimming costs and executing 'efficiency programs' - our energy exports are labelled as dirty oil and our homes are overvalued and incomes are depleting - yet as pages continue to update and refresh, more information is passed that will convince us that we've turned the corner - those that dive into the corner too fast will be caught in the momentous inertial pull of gravitational forces - forces unseen yet potentially catastrophic...

Transparency is truly something that can never be seen...

Wireless Wavelengths

2009-06-25T10:36:00.000-07:00

Injecting Synapses

It was at about this time last year, I felt a twinge in the base of my neck, piercing enough to shatter an eyebrow, and concerning enough to leave the imprint of numbness in the back of my skull. Through obvious concern from the lingering effects which lasted several weeks and melted swelling effects from eardrum to eardrum, I visited a medical practitioner. The sage wisdom and dime-store advice the good practitioner provided did nothing to ease the painful swelling - but it did bring new perspective into how delicate my cranial fluid columns were susceptible to disrupting effects - the wavelengths of my brain were 'out-of-whack' - so to speak...

As I mentioned, the pain subsided shortly thereafter, and with a scar of a lost patch of hair as a reminder, I could feel the bouncing waves of stress-free matter beaming back and forth within the confines of synaptic caverns, peaking signal after signal in free, unabated form - my headache had gone away. In my retrospected viewpoint, I attributed the signal fade of free formed brainwaves to stress - the concentrated process of focusing one aspect and area of the brain for long durations of time - stress seemed to infiltrate my guards of protection and penetrated my concentration into one singular point of entity - I had been stressed about my job...

If it hadn't been for a couple month hiatus from employment, a renewed sense of purpose and a better understanding of money making endeavours, I'm sure a relapsing synaptic effect would have sure knocked on my cranial column by now... Anyways, the purpose of the point I plan to propose is one of obviousness - that our brains and minds are a fragile conglomeration of matter, and if ethereal matters such as one's employment could cause concern for chaotic shutdown, what could real matters such as wireless wavelengths bring to the concentrated pools of spinal fluid traps and triggers of the mind?

Ανθρώπινη ενέργεια Δοκοί

Electroencephalography consists of the monitoring and collection of electrical signal activity from neuritic signals generated in the brain. Through the use of EEG, an individuals 'pontificate personality profile' can be generated - signaling the sines of logic - predicting the paths of a person's primitive behaviour through the delta, theta and alpha wavelengths of wiretaps. Delta waves correspond to 4 Hz, and are known to signal a resting period, or a period of slow activity. Theta waves up the ante, and correspond from between 4-7 Hz of frequency, and typically occur when states of drowsiness or early morning grouchinesses are experienced. Alpha waves live in a semi-conscious state of between 8-12 cycles per second and are usually precursors or respites from the high-pitched noises of our lives. During active periods in modern routines, we are defined to be living in the region of Gamma and Beta wavelengths, broadcasting harmonics to the tunes of daily living and motorizing functions from between 30-100 Hz.

Verts

Our brains beam these blasting arrays of impulses to and from the central nervous system's roots. The balance of our wavelengths can be defined by which frequencies we resonate - and can even define our pre-disposed determination in intro and extro vertedness. Intro's typically living in higher 'baseline' states of arousal, and extro's - in lower states of arousal. The outcome and statistically referenced data validate this by recording EEG's of introverts and extroverts, and indicate that introverts generally possess increased levels of brain activity, and predominantly so in frontal lobe areas - which allows them to feel energized when recalling long-term memories, problem solving, complex reading and thinking and planning, along with the underrated hobby of introspection. The data also indicate increased activity in an extroverted analysis, however the increase in activity is limited to processing sensory data - it is interpreted that the extrovert seek action and external stimuli in an attempt to increase brain activity to its full potential. In essence, the extrovert possesses less internal energy, therefore seeks external stimulation to make up for it...

Syncing Subsonic Sequence

The Monroe Institute was founded in the early 1970's, and introduced a mandate to explore human consciousness. One of the outcomes from this exploration, was the concept of brainwave entrainment, or Hemi-Sync, as the Monroe Institute so aptly named. The concept involves the generation of binaural beats - created when two frequencies are generated in close proximity to each other - what happens is a close 'blending' of sounds, in which the overlapping lag of waves generates a beat frequency. For example, if a 505 Hz sound is blended with one at 495 Hz sound, a binaural beat of 10 Hz results, and when introduced into the human brain, is used to enter the Alpha wave region mentioned above, and induce a meditative calm to the human brain... In essence, Hemi-Sync artificially induces a calm state of mind, and relaxes the input/output processors from external stimuli.

Gold and Rainbows

The study of the brain is relatively anew, as the layers upon layers of complexities and unknowns only propagate increased activity and complexities and layers - a pandora's effect of imagination. The principles of nano-nucleic study requires an infinite map of matrices to plot and discover. Yet as we continue to thrive and develop the wireless beams of polluted noises, it is becoming increasingly obvious: we have begun to 'unplug' our sensing and communicating devices, and are evolving into technological merits which mirror the extra-sensorical viewpoints of ESP - we've begun to transmit energy in wireless formats.

Now the technology is novel - and somewhat long overdue after Tesla plotted the path - which involves mutual induction, or the generation of a magnetic field in which a secondary device is mutually induced into the originator's energy beams. The use of this technology is limited to orbs of electromagnetic radiation, however the principles of focusing these beams into concentrated streams of energy, or 'Death Stars' are still prevailing amongst enthusiasts. But for the purpose of household usages, miniature 'orbs' of energy are being marketed for personal pleasure, as the waves of consumerism will beam golden rainbows to the broadcasters of the technology. However, a question which may arise can equally be tied to the one posed earlier: what impact could electromagnetic radiated forces of energy pose to the mimicking nature of our internal organic orbs? The impact of a magnetic field being generated in living spaces while droning its silent wavelengths into the precipices of our memories is a little concerning - it reminisces rippling tidal forces from past warnings of lead paint, cancerous impacts from first generation cell phones, bisphenyl-A and thalidomide...

ISO 9001

Occasionally I still do wake up with headaches - I mostly attribute them to changes in atmospheric pressure and allergic reactions to my arch nemesis - grass... But as I've already uplugged my computer from the hub of wall jacks to live in a comfortable, care-free wireless world, I wonder how many of these unseen freqencies are bouncing around my city in 'hotspots' and wire-free wonderlands... As time passes I can see 'wireless' battery charging provide a surge in the next great race to consumerism - they'll be on the shelves by Christmas '09... But as wavelengths continue to introduce increased beams of invisible magic into our homes, noise pollution is becoming increasingly evident as battle grounds for free space and time wage invisible wars. We're continually attempting to evolve technology into convenient, cord-free consumerables, and more often than not, life-cycles aren't determined in the lab. What we encounter time and time again in the quality control of consumerism is the bombardment of products we rush to find a cure for 25 years later...

Mirroring Messaging

2009-06-17T09:47:00.000-07:00

I'm living in a city of idiots. Numskulls, cretins and degenerates...

Trickled Pricks

I read the news - it's a daily activity programmed by routine that allows a trickle in my receptors to activate a response sequence. It's often a strange one - as normally, my response sequences are only manifested after action-reward pathways - but some times - I read the news to torture myself. I must first admit checking international news and dailies is a fun alternative to daily droning, but as home-grown as it gets, I can't get enough of what's happening in my neck of the woods, my corner of the lot, my plot on the lease, my stool in the bowl. Or perhaps in this case, I should say stools in the bowel.

Connotated Cratering

A little bit of background information before I begin, as you can choose to close this window off, should your interest close quickly like the mind of many who disagree... I'm a believer in the effects of Global Warming (although not a believer in it's 'scary' connotations). It took me awhile to convince myself, but as I studied how states of matter changes from solid to oxidised gaseous ones - I quickly realized - wow - it does happen - all from the organic molecule - the molecule of life itself. Organic molecules usually consist of a Carbon, an Oxygen, and a Hydrogen - sometimes Nitrogen and Sulphur are mixed in there. When an organic molecule is exposed to air, or oxygen, it oxidizes, breaking the tiniest bond with brethren, and forming a new structure of order. The organic molecule decomposes - continually being bombarded by oxygen and outside energy sources, the organic molecule turns into stardust - Products Of Combustion --- CO2 and H2O, carbon dioxide and water. Of these two stardusted materials, one possesses sublimated abilities to reverse itself, evident in water's curious triple point, and condense into clouds and life-giving sustenance from gravity and absence. The other, CO2, remains billowing in the atmosphere, slowly leaching it's way into the water cycle, ever so gently waiting the opportunity to soak up the sun, ebbing and flowing into the veins and branches of another life form, back into earth.

Petroleated Pathways

The path for CO2 to ebb and flow into trees is a slow one, and one immediately concentrated to locations where trees are present. As we currently stand, we are transforming lush areas into areas where trees no longer stand, and our ability to recycle, reduce and reuse our CO2 is being left out in the curb.

So as organic molecules churn chemical equations and reaction kinetics into combustible energy and petroleated function - we've created a surplus. I balanced these numbers back in bouncing bunny days, but it works out that we're generating a surplus of oxygenated organic molecules in our airs. You see, CO2 doesn't reverse-sublimate, or condense like it's fellow POC, water. It stays billowing until it ebbs and flows. And if we cut off it's vein to the ebb, the flow is disrupted and stays as an eternal piece of our puzzle.

The final strati graphed datum point, is our sun. The sun beats down on us with an ever-lasting beam of gentleness. Our skins have adapted to soak or shade, based on our proximities to it geographically - as minute degrees of latitude bring more radiative solar forces. The light energy rides this magical wave of radiation that soaks into any real, identifiable piece of matter - the sun doesn't discriminate between gas-liquid-solid like we do - it simply exists to supply everything around it with all the energy to live - it is most definitely a key ingredient to the complex organic molecule. The sun will attach it's spectrum of light on any particle floating in the atmospheres - in doing so, it will also heat up any evolved particle of oxygenated carbon. The more carbon present - the more energy soaked - the more carbon present - the more the globe continues to heat in peculiar locations.

The most peculiar item that petroleated combustible products generate in their fabrication, is a localized spurt of energy in heat - the magic of the internal combustible engine, home furnace or BIC lighter. All these combustion reactions generate this little burst of solar magnificence - fire. As fire occur, a bridge is gapped between real and ethereal - mystical and forceful - structured and chaos - heat is generated. Now the thing about matter and energy, as thermodynamics explains - is that it is neither created nor destroyed - balanced nor unbalanced - it simply exists. Matter and energy can be transformed, but as heat exists - it cannot escape our atmosphere - it is bound and trapped by the tropospherical lock from our spinning magnet - heat is normally recycled in the delicate balance of dark and light, polar to radial, green to blue.... But as we continue to pump and pay, we emit and heat. We heat the immediate areas around us simply by driving - we, by definition, globally warm things by breathing.... we cannot be prevented from doing this....

Message Mirrored

As bowels imitate bowls, and contain the filth of our digested remains of organic materials, pressure builds to the point of shit storms. What I've read in my local news is that my community refuses to acknowledge a daily routine - the daily routine of pumping microwatt after nanojoule of minute trickles of energy into an increasingly reflective heat blanket. That we do this, day in and day out, we don't acknowledge that our overpopulation, consumerism and expansion is globally warming our surroundings. We exist as these heat pumps, circulating blood and oxygen, releasing kJ after kW of irreversible heat - and we refuse to acknowledge it. The scary part of global warming shouldn't be its consequence, its connotations of fear mongering, or its ability to get a book published - the scary part is the lack of acknowledgement. In my sink in the stool, or whatever connotation it is, people don't get it - an article published in my paper today was commented by our majority - our majority of numskulls - our majority of blind cynics who refuse to question a thought, and who cry wolf of Eco-terrorism and fear-mongering hippies, and whose hypocritical views are quenched by the drip drop of oil in their full bellied buckets carving roast after roast on the spittles of consumerism. What bothers me most, is the hype and games of hide and seek the media in my neighbourhood plays to quell the masses from music - activism in a world of watchdogs and witchhunts is limited to the confined space in the corner - freedoms of speech are easily edited by editors in charge - and so the news of today and tommorow is being spoonfed to the innocent...

Propagating Propaganda

2009-06-05T09:29:00.000-07:00

When my knees were skinned, nose was runny and grasshoppers bounded as high as my eyelids - the world and it's grass and green growth was such a fantastic place of smells and wonder - the wind never seemed to catch it's cool breeze, and the radiative forces of the sun could never deter the cells of my skin from sore-ing - there was too much to see and do in the trails of forests, paths of creeks and wisps of wind... Yet as I aged through the pre-programmed dictation of my mitochondrial nature, things began to become meaningful and understood - an innocence lost found it's way through textbooks.

Nursery Rhymes

During the days of shoeless gravel walks and disregard of any preoccupation for knowledge - my instinctual habits of exploration and curiosity were always bombarded with 'life-lessons'. Some of these life lessons were learned on my own, but many others, were inferred, assured, preached and prodded into me - some of the more puzzling crypts involved nursery-like proverbs intended to guide a young one's perceptions of life - What's Good for the Goose is Good for the Gander. Now, it took me some time as a youngster to determine what exactly a gander was, and honestly as the twinkle of curiosity tweaked a brain cell - I did need a little 'splainin on its inner meaning - but the life lesson learned out of this proverb provided a look into an equally divided world of yes and no - ganders and gooses being of equal share.

As the Autumns passed by and leaves continually lost their colour year after year, the spectrum of complexities reared its uglyness as it transplanted into my head - things changed - that innocence of yes and no turned to contempt of right and wrong... the world of words and messages, texts and rituals, rights and passages filled the bookcase in my cortex - and as the world posted messages on the billboard ads of life, what's good for the goose didn't really mean it was good for the gander...

Sublime

Sublimation occurs when matter 'skips' a step, so to speak... It is enhanced as the pressure of the earth's atmosphere decreases, or as conditions approach near-vacuum like states. In essence, a 'void' is created in the prescribed notions of 'Earth' life as matter loosens the molecular bonds in an escape towards chaos... As the molecules of a solid mass loosen, they typically become 'bendable', taking the shape of any mold and flowing towards the path that gravity dictates, but as 'normal atmospheric' pressure decreases, or things become closer to a state of 'emptyness', the bonds stretch, pushing past the bendable liquid states transcribed by chemistry - and into the airs and space as a gas, essentially skipping the step of becoming a liquid...

The sublimation of elements and compounds ignores the rules of shapes in the gas-liquid-solid realm, and lives in a mysterious, cloudy world. Gooses and ganders, in the state of subliminally structured words, enter a state of perplexing complexities, as if 'skipping a step' in logic dictation - the truth behind the words states that geese and ganders live in equality, but as the goose begets the gander, the message can also infer that geese choose for the ganders, ganders are subservient to the geese, and that this nursery-like proverb needs to fly off in the winds with the flocks... the proverb may be full of sublimated messages...

Tensile Intentions

One life lesson I once never understood, was why people had to work... It seemed like this task and chore had no end, no real meaning - the steps were simple, go to school, get a job, get a home... yet riddled along the way were the concepts of wealth and expansion, lessons passed down from our pioneering forefathers. The propagating method of these lessons were widespread, as the three simple steps involved ever increasing layers of subtleties and hurdles - electronics, clothing, internally combustible engines became labels of wealth and ego - all underlining the mass accumulation of wealth as the primary driver behind the wheel. The campaign to propagate wealth's accumulation to singular points of entity was widespread as I grew ever increasingly cautious of best intentions paving their way hell...

In November 1939, The Times of London published a 3-piece article by John Maynard Keynes, a renown British economist. The article comments that increased spending during World War I resulted in an inflationary boost to products, which impacted lower-to-middle class labour... Keynes intentions calculated a nation's resource production, summed the difference of imports to exports, balanced the requirement of in-house maintenance, stashed some away for militaristic inventions - and anything left over at the end of the day would go be spread out amongst the people. The result was a key ingredient to balance an economy and ultimately 'Pay for a War'. Lower to middle class would be greater protected from recessions through taxation and compulsory savings, while the progress and growth could be tracked and monitored as if the stock ticker were invented at this very moment - the GDP emerged from the pages of the newsprint to usher a new era of industrial endeavours - international trade suddenly felt two cojones drop from its groin...

Expanding Viewpoints

Since the true advent of growth progress indicator, war continues to be a staple of progress in the history books being penned. The GDP provides the perfect measure to ensure defense spending has a home in protecting us from our far neighbours across the seas. We approach our acceptance of this through the mentality, or propagation, that at some point in time, we will be attacked... It seems to be this innate sense that if we don't watch our backs, we're vulnerable.

I've often wondered what reactions are truly innate, and which are extrinsic - what 'life-lessons' are real, and which have been sublimated into day-to-day life. I wonder how much would change if we changed what we read, eat and drink - what messages we choose to ignore - and what consequences we find from our causes... We're continually expanding our knowledge of our steps - finding more and more sinkholes in the previously paved lot - but as Springs continue to pass, extrinsic ideals loosen, pushing off into the atmosphere, completing its sublimated path - and as the pressure subsides from the vacuum of sublimated ideals, equilibrium is restored with an alternated viewpoint.

Sacred Geometry

2009-05-15T10:15:00.000-07:00

One of the things that fascinates me is the ever-lasting effects that art pieces have on people's perceptions. Canvases can mask genuine genius, manic madness and foolish folly from perception, while pictures attempt to capture the clicks of time, ticks of sound and colours defined by darkness and light from the ever-changing landscapes of our spinning ball of tax and thunder. But down under the layers of subtleties and blatant messages, art breaks down into the very basic perception of our senses - all in the attempt to capture an image of our brief dance with our realities and imagination.

Flowers of Life

The Mona Lisa is depicted as a great masterpiece displaying a portrait of a perplexing woman. It is explained that "we are attracted to this mysterious woman but have to stay at a distance as if she were a divine creature", as the contrast of a white, pale face and enigmatic smile provide frontage to a backdrop of dark hair, veil and landscape - all blended together to capture some type of mystical power.

Art frustrates me at times - the things that people see and interpret just don't quite match up with my viewpoints. In these cases, I think: to each his own, smile, nod my head once or twice and provide the humoring 'Uh-huh'. When I began to study and comprehend the Mona Lisa years ago - my first reaction was - "this is a masterpiece?". But as soon as my brow would raise, I would be whispered some explanation of it's importance, ranging from 'Artistic Masterpiece' to a 'legacy for genius'. It could have very well been that Da Vinci created a simple portrait of a fair lady, with the same enigmatic smile as the multitude of his other portraits. By no means is my skeptical nature of the label 'masterpiece' implying that Da Vinci was a fraud in respect to his artistic legacy, but rather that often as a collection of organized minds, we label things as masterpieces simply because we are told to do so - these pieces of art are external to us, not like others that are more innate and structural to us - art often only tickles the right hemisphere alone.

DS9'ed

A label similarly locked in a code of genius was Da Vinci's other 'masterpiece' - the Vitruvian Man. Reaching the proportionate measures of fractals and fragments, Da Vinci utilized the principles of Pythagoras' Circles to simulate the beauty of nature. As Vitruvian reaches the fingertips to the universe, the perpetuated pull programs our bodies in a coded fashion, fractioning fingers with faces, palms with feet and ears with eyebrows.

However, in the label of masterpieces and as my interpretations follow me, art has tickled a curious nerve of naivety and wonder - images of space and time. I every so often browse online (nasaimages.org) gazing into the captured time, watching the spirals and waves float in genuine balance with logarithmic destinies. My interpretation of art is the one capture in these images - the most sacred images of the stars, and those that are generated in most unique geometric forms, the pieces of geometric art that can be labelled as Vitruvian, or as sacred.

Polished Slice of Petrified Wood - Michael Gäbler

Sacred geometry is transcending our understanding of the ticks and tocks the seconds of our pre-defined universe has sculpted before our eyes - the keys that unlock the doors to wondrous wiggles of waves. The structure of our molecules owe their conductive capacitance to the locked bonds that they share while octahedrons and tetrahairadrons pluck their pieces of fabric into their pre-disposed purpose of expansion. The geometric spheres being defined and dissolved into mystic shapes of mesmerizing vortices and contracting crevices answer multitudes of curious questions to ponder the present-day perplexities of our world. Sacred geometry is designing the code of conduct that defines the voids and values of formulaic expressions of life.

As purpose and purse-strings battle their wits to each end, they are all bound to the balloon of meaning we associate to them - purpose, being a cause for what one's beliefs are, and purse-strings being the fractals of imaginary tension we tie them to - numbers and meaning can be defined hand in hand, but it still doesn't answer the perplexing question if numbers and meaning are only the product of our imaginary neurons, existing only in our pre-defined notion of what our senses and calculating brains come up with. But as deep as the perplexity may go, the geometric forms of life are being told under sacred methods - telling mirroring images of how the mimicking pre-disposed innate notions of growth under the sea of the universe. The geometric forms of these creations are within the realms of their own religions, and their own rights - they have become sacred, in the definition of labeled masterpieces, tickleboth left and right in equal proportionate manners.

Dream States

2009-05-11T10:20:00.000-07:00

I've always been a weary advocate of sleep. Sleep, to me, is like getting a free ticket to children's talent show, I never really want to go, but once there, imaginary doors open to weird and freaky things that dive backflips across the empty gaps left from daily routine and unresolved callings. Sleep can be one of those things that can both scare us straight - pointing us to the arrow of uncertainty, or calm us down - filtering into the depths of a billowing core. It allows our minds to ease and replenish the ever draining activity of daily life - and feels so satisfying at the moment of a nice wake-up - as if at that moment, life is being lived with no terms and conditions - no contracts - no line-ups.

Rapidly Moving Sockets

My fascination with a good sleep began when I started toying with my sleep patterns - A few experiments were in place which included a stint with late-night grocery stocking, several all-night music disc-jockeys displays and countless hours awake in utter disturbance, meditative calm and devastatingly painful sorrow. As the time passed into dusk, at the point the Moon began to crust over it's wallowing eyes and rejoin the dance across the sky, and hours after the Sun shut it's radiative blinders from the mirrors of our rear views, I would enter a semi-conscious state. Now for clarification purposes, these times were only in absence of hydrogenated aldehydes (or alcohol in better framed references), as altered states of madness cannot occur at the same time. But during these times of sleep and alcoholic deprivation, I would become more aware of innate objects, more discern for things that were previously indiscernible. Real was no longer real, and the unreal became mundane and bland.

Lunar Context

On very few occasions I've had the chance to experience the quagmire of dream states - the mid-sleep illusionary conscious walk - the walk that defines the zombies thirst for brains - the walk that feels no walls, sees no light and hears no pain - the walk that defines purpose and resolve from the subconscious to act out it's dreams, the sleep walk. The sleep walk takes focus, determination and the utmost release of all concerns intermittent along the path to the one thing - the Goal. Goals vary widely in the sleep walk, from pre-programmed routine analyses involving water drinking, bathroom breaking, tooth brushing, sandwich making, milk heating, phone calling, roller skating, TV taping - the state of the dream recounts the desires of instinctual, innate bio-formulated thought - as random as random is perpetuated from waves of time.

Deja Vu

When arising from a deep sleep, such as in most mornings, I'm the opposite - and at this point, I've dedicated myself to a life of slothing - content in the filth and layers of moon crust in my eyes and nose, just laying around waiting for the next chance to lay a round. The toxic stench from my mouth is little bother - and the prospect of constructing some type of latrine within the boundaries of the bedsheets seems logical at the very first few moments of the morning - to summarize - mornings are most often when I feel the least like myself.

As mentioned, although the wild swings in attitudinal beliefs beliefs towards sleep present a possibly disdain for mornings, I am a true, practicing advocate of sleep. Through my activism, I revolt against the modern day norms of 9-5 pushing the hours away in my attempts to redefine time from the originators who awoke from their dreams as the early birders plucking worms - who disturb slumbers in the wake of weariness. I practice patience as my snores and growly snares overtake my defiance in the most restful silence - the revolution of sleep is not one practiced on the doorsteps of a capitol, it is practiced in the dwindling tug of gravity as the Moon pulls its pulley from the Sun. It beckons soundless words, ballooning matter, and chaos in fusion to the slightest repetitive beats of the heart, and diaphragmic pulses of air - focussing thoughts into waves of inner relaxation - and the renewal of the spirit...

"The lunatic is a wakeful dreamer" - Kant

Technocratic Empathy

2009-05-06T10:55:00.000-07:00

The first movement in Technocracy came during the Great Depression. Scholars and educated preachers spoke forth in the pursuance of scientific pragmatic reasoning to governing rule - the equations were simple - balance energy with food and population et voila - la raison d'etre n'est plus simple... The means of production were based on the principle of a society devoid of scarce resources, it seemed a viable method to diminish, if not abolish freedom's suffering amongst the masses.

Grass Rooted

It was simple really. In 1918 the Technical Alliance conducted an engineering study where energy units were in stead used in replacement of dollars, or bank notes. This invaluable look into an alternate universe of society seemed to bend space and time together, creating images of orbiting economics in gravitational balance with the planet. Those that were imaginative included Howard Scott and M. King Hubbert (originator of the Peak Oil Theory), both with scientific background and fervor. They captured the numbers and resourced allocations, and plotted a path into the depths of the mined thought, working at an engineer's pace, revising the manuscripts of budgets with bottle caps bursting to it's seams in value. Their interpretations of balanced society were in comparison to the one scripted right before their eyes, the society of a 'Price System', to which Hubbert once commented:

"... when one speaks of the state of growth of GNP, I haven't the faintest idea what this means when I try to translate it onto coal, oil, iron, and the other physical quantities which are required to run an industry... the quantity GNP is a monetary bookkeeping entity. It obeys the laws of money. It can be expanded or diminished, created or destroyed, but it does not obey the laws of physics"

His interpretation described the state that economic systems can be allowed to go into ruin, even though no materials or resources have been destroyed. It poses the question: "If I can buy a loaf of bread for $3 today, why will the loaf of bread cost $4 tomorrow?" To Hubbert, this loaf of bread requires a set amount of energy and time to make, all worth a value in kilojoules, or calories in a human diet of time. This loaf of bread would equate to an energy value, which in the current state of technology, could be produced at a minimal input. Nothing would be in dollars and cents in the Technocratic system, everything would equate to energy input and output, as if we've plugged our electric motors into the sun and are basking in it's solar radiative magnificence.

Pollinating

The ideals of Technocracy have infiltrated modern society and thoughts, as the mind of Vonnegut played the song of the tiniest perfectly tuned piano, while Roddenberry searched Deep Space under the blanket of the Federation of Planets - a post scarcity, money-less society. In Canada, technocracy is far from removed from the brains of the "boring" (as scientists and engineers often get labelled with), they simply choose not to be bothered with dod-references to Britney, Barney, Bruce or Betty - but instead plug and play at tiny websites such as Technocracy Van.

Those in power in the vast North, do less or more, to misinform, and in generalization more or less, make a mess. The technocratic method involves utter and complete transparency, as if Statistics and Economics were tied at the hip, and Economies were no longer a thing of mystery. The first mess involved a Party that were caught with their hands in the litter box, filtering Kitty from kick-backs and kick-stands. The Stools stood tall from the litter box, and bellowed: "Transparency for all! Balanced budgets and tax breaks will be abound". But years after the scandal, transparency has been lost in the clouds of the economy, and the political pranksters can't mime their way out of the question: "What the hell happened?" The bro's and ho's that cross the 'i's and dot the 'o's can't figure out the system they supposedly controlled.

Underground Mirroring

If you were to dig underground, do you always find China? As if in an upside down world, the Chinese have defied Western principles. They have adapted to Western economies of course, but the Chinese have had their ears set on playing their own tunes to political plight and economic mysteries. The one unknown heard through the noises of economic chatter is: "What will the Chinese do?" And in the mystery so tightly wrapped, I wondered who the leader of the Red Republic is... With the wisps of the web-based wiki-marketed answers is the tale of a Technocratic leadership, a who's who of Hu - a politician diverse in the field of Hydraulic Engineering, a scientist without the political placards. The People's Republic is still one locked in mystery of true tales of freedom who drum to their own beat as Western ideals breach into boundaries locked within the Himalayas, but it will be quite curious to observe the Piano being played by a Hydraulic Hu as the global turmoil continues up the flue.

Propagating Propaganda

The conspiracy of China's communistic approach to a technocratic system is still one that will write it's tale along the way - playing the tune of powerful piano pushing on pistons and power chords. The States that stated the structure of store-bought stationary and stucco relied on banks to break the banks, but instead broke the backs and the piggy banks of their Luddites, and will be bound to the approach of the Far East. As the two opposing forces of Freedom and State collide, the technocratic reach of electron and faith will merge - evolving their way into structure and order not before seen or counted. As the Technocratic would empathize, our world, in context to a global balance, is one that can be realized with planning and resource allocation - boundaries can be unlocked and boats can be loaded from point A to point B - but we first need to evolve - evolve our minds to the whole of the sum, and bring point A to point B, to bring a collage of ABCs and XYZs into equal proportions of need and sustenance - a who's who of Hubbert and Hu...

Cryogenic Leeching

2009-05-01T11:10:00.000-07:00

Death is the one inevitability every soul on this planet faces. It's the one thing that terrorizes into panic, contemplates to completion, and modernizes to today's fashion stylings. It looks us straight in the face, as if the other side of the mirror could truly trap a shadow, and when doomsday finally arrives, we learn the ultimate lesson of a lifetime.

It is without doubt, the most controversial subject matter at any one's kitchen dinner table - the passing of a loved one, the mourning of a friend - the regrets of your history's mistakes. The sorrow of grief is typically wrapped up in a turkey and cranberry cocktail, as we are told to digest the unknown mystery of life and death. And it is never easy to do. For eons and multitudes of combinations, we search for this answer to ease our suffering curiosity of the next step - resorting to silent prayer, unanswered questions, and transcendent misgivings. And finally, there are those that leech.

Suckling Soles

Leechers can be described as annelids in the subclass Hirudinea, and are most definitely hermaphroditic. They feed on the spineless - suckling at the juicy fleshes of the prey until the trunk is tapped of syrupy sustenance. They hide in the wallows of dark water waiting for the next victim - as spineless as their invertebrate brethren, but as selfish as a Hyena... Leechers find any poor sapling and drain the innocence from genius, and the shine from the sun...

Leechers, in the terminology of eternal search for life, have arguably evolved into modern day lifestyles, suckling their way into cryogenic freezers and storing cells in a state of perpetual suspended animation. It was once rumored that Walt Disney instigated this fad by utilizing his love of suspended photo cell animation in the storage of his own suspended body cell animation - and although these rumors were quickly disputed by his tombstone and grave, followers soon caught wind of this icy breeze and hopped on the bandwagon faster than an alcoholic falls off on a bumpy road...

Chronos Killers

Cryonics involves the speculative stabilization of a viable brain from a patient who is legally deceased (Cryonics Website - http://www.cryonics.com). Under more simple terms, those that freeze themselves hope their cells structures, neurons, atoms all remain suspended and isolated from the outside environment. The hopes of all this, as you can guess, is to reach immortality, as the argument states, that at some point in the near or distant future, medicinal advancements will be able to cure all that ends all.

The stabilization of parts of living organisms, such as livers, kidneys, hearts and other transplants, require the material to be stored in a chilled environment. Chilling technologies today rely on large amounts of energy input, where electrical energy is used to drive compressors and pumps in the compression-cooling-expansion loop utilized in producing sub-zero temperatures. In order to reach cryogenic levels, temperatures must be reduced to 77.15 Kelvin (or -320.53 degrees Fahrenheit).

Allied Atheists Alliance

One of my favorite all-time episodes of South Park was when Cartman froze himself on a mountain top (with the help of Butters) in order not have to wait for the release of the Nintendo Wii. As I can truly relate to the anxiousness of waiting for the release of a video game, the story took a twist when Cartman awoke 300 years later to find a society of Atheists at war over atheism (along with Mrs. Garrison scissoring Richard Dawkins). Anyways, the episode took a glimpse of future society - one of my favorite day dreaming activities.

Companies like Alcor and other 'Institutes' that pitch everlasting hope for under $200,000 are a complete sham. It steps on so many of my 'shants' and 'cant's' that the notions of selfish leeching deserves to suckle on my chocolate salty balls...

First off, the notion that one's life is worth preserving, is in the realm of complete totalitarianism - the idea that a life is worth any more than another is egoism at it's worst - an ism that definitely is in my top 3 worst categorisms...

Secondly, the state of medicine technology is one so tightly wound up in profitability, who do you think is going to pay to have the medical procedure complete on your dead, frozen, shit-filled suspended animated body? I hope you had an Aenima on the way out, cause you'll shit yourself when you find out that the generations past won't give a damn how much you've asked them to pay... The number of years in frozen captivity will drain away the pocket books of your 'investment' spewing out hot gases of CO2 as the accelerated heat your body is expelling is cooled, and is spewed into the atmosphere as greenhouse gases - you're polluting yourself away into the futures. As the investment money runs out, I'm sure the company is fine casting your frozen dead body into the ocean as fish feed.

Finally, there's my take on returning to the Earth. Upon death, humans have come to bury their dead, a way of 'returning' to the Earth. This method, of course, has been capitalized, and a funeral/burial can now run in the range of $25,000+. In a cryogenic state, this will ensure that no atom of a body's make-up will ever infiltrate a plant, an animal, or another body. The body will remain yours - as tightly wound as you would dream it to be...

Melting Away

If this fad ever takes off, for example marketing campaigns begin airing on network TV, Britney decides to do it, or Martha Stewart's head ever does end up on a animatronic robot, imagine the population swell and leeching impact this would have on a futuramic society. I've been able to come to grips with my mortality, it will some day come - but at the same time, I've always been afraid of a closed casket. If doomsday were to ever knock on my door, I think I would like to pass back to the Earth in the mud, buried in a biodegradable blanket wrapped in an earth worm's digestive dreams... leaching my way back into the mix, spreading bits of carbon, nitrogen and sulphur along the way...

In the name of Sacrifice

2009-04-30T08:46:00.000-07:00

"Seek and ye shall find"

This saying has never meant anything to me in my lifetime. What am I seeking, and what do I do if I find it? My upbringing was one of Nintendo, disposal cameras and corner-store candy - the only things I sought were labelled on afternoon cartoon episodes of Bugs Bunny and Batman. I'm somewhat thankful my parents left out popular teachings of xtianity out of my eardrums. But this passage, in my absent knowledge of it's saying, seems to have taken on a new meaning in the context of modern society - the Seekers have become finders, with the finders being keepers and ultimately destroyers - we have turned these words of religion and enlightenment into a profitable purpose of "seek and destroy".

In the effort to "seek and destroy", an army assembles itself with rank and file, executives at the top, mailroom, labourers and janitors at the bottom. The generals, or executives, choose who to sacrifice and who to save - all in the blind faith and servitude to the almighty power - profitability. Sacrificial lambs are reared in by the shepherd, all with the cloak conceiling the inner wolf that hides within...

Those that survive the turmoil of "seek and destroy" profitability are also included in providing pennance to the almighty - they can prove their faith and servitude through martyrdom, or their god-given right to sacrifice their incomes and pensions for the sake of the almighty - the sheep can choose to have their coats cut for the shepherd's slice of the pie.

In the name of Sacrifice, these choices are never easy. The generals and commanders sacrifice the summer beachfront properties or 36' Bayline cruiser, while the sheep sacrifice their warmth, shelter, food and general means of living. It is all in the name of servitude and blind faith. However this sacrifice is far from serving a greater good - I would rather see mouthes fed than fat cats in speedos... These sacrifices are in the name of Aztec human sacrifice, where the sacrificial lamb may be either aware or unaware, but most definitely in disapproval. The sacrificial names of Chronothusia are no longer valid - the purpose of a greater good is clouded with dollar figured smoke and mirrors.

The sacrifices we make on a day to day basis are never self-serving, otherwise a rose by any other name could not be sold on Valentines day - but sacrifices are instead, imposed upon us. It is difficult to battle against the shepherds that incessantly knock on our steeples, and the battle against an oppressive shepherd only results in hoof stomps and finger bitting. Flocking to greener pastures may provide safe haven, however finders have become keepers and/or destroyers, and the greener pasture is grayer and cloudier these days... But try as they might to shave your coat, the cloak of Chronos may turn the ticks of time in your head until the moment comes where you decide to never sacrifice for the words of others - sacrifice would be a name long forgotten, where the finders will never keep, and the seekers will never destroy.

Supernatural BC

2009-04-28T09:14:00.000-07:00

I've spent the last week and a half driving through the mountainous regions of Supernatural British Columbia. The trees danced from the waves of the winds and moisture driven particles of sand while the asphalt of the roads bent willfully to the rocks of craters and seismic settling. I often drifted into zones of silence, only looking ahead at the vortex of time I bent through the windshield. Great glaciers first carved their way through the plunders, guiding the paths to river valleys and crashing inlets and islets. It finally settled into the vast openness of the great depths and mysteries below the sea. A welcoming home to the gravitational forces of Earth.

In amongst the vast regions of mountains and rivers are hidden fantasy wonderlands of Sasquatch, Ogopogo and Woodland Hunters -- all alive with the ever lasting answer to the paradoxical questioning of trees chirping echoes of sounds as they fall... The creases of valleys bends boulders into dust providing safe haven and walking trails to the wolves and cougars who prey on the weak and mindless... As howls and growls go unheard, the desertification of a Plateau's Peaks is commencing, fueled by the particular appetite of a juice from a Pine - Bettlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice made this bug appear and suck from the teet of a precious resource. But as deserts go, the rain will always fall, bringing shrubs and grubs to a landscape full of rivers and hatching grounds - spawning the answer to another puzzling question - the intelligence of fish - the Salmon of the mighty Fraser swim against the grain in an effort to raise their hands...

Having sculpted boundaries across a Cascadia of mountain ranges, the region swept the dreams of Thomas Jefferson into visions of ecotopia - an independent republic of the Pacific. Movements and interest still burst forth (see the aforementioned Cascadia movement) as if Andorrans wrote scripts of Independence and set them to Sea through the Ariege and Garonne. But the latest political plight of freedom and independence involves the use of river and valleys for renewable power - pushing the brinks of the watersheds to its capacities with its dams. Cascadia will never rule the lands as long as the spirits of the Natives still haunts their pasts...

Smadderings of settlements stamped their grounds in the wilderness as the chase for gold swept across the valleys faster than Donovan Bailey won the 100m dash... Churches run silent on days of the busy, while ramblings of teachings still preach in the farmhouse as Sunday dresses are pleated and pressed. The life of Supernatural BC was taught well to many who settled in the forays of forests - all in the upper compressed regions of the higher altitudes to keep the mind tightly wrapped in a knot.

Settling into the coast and diving into the depths of sea level, the Artisans honed their crafts of culture in the attempt to tax and tour tourists through the washing coves and caves of dark sunlight hidden in corners of every nook and cranny carved out in the ocean. Whales and seagulls are free to see, but the trip may cost you a little... Yet the carved society built on the Left Coast was one that preached renewability, ecological balance with economic prosperity - a carving so delicate and balanced the Nuu-Chah-Nulth spirits seem to have provided its Supernatural blessing... The Rainforests stood tall in defiance to the Gods of Poseidon and brought life on their own terms - an evolutionary masterpiece of diversity and divergence... and nonetheless devoid of touristic intentions to pave and produce profit - the 500 cm of rain throughout the year keeps the Snow Angels and Sun Bunnies out for a good proportion...

The time spent out there was a nice disconnection from the constant traffic I hear day in and day out... It was as if the plug that I had tied into the wall of modern society was pulled and the noises in my head seized to chatter - the neurons relaxed into a state of mindless obliviance of annoyances and stresses - only ocean breezes and crashing waves... a supernatural experience...

Here a Stool, there a Stool, everywhere a Stool's stool

2009-04-09T09:20:00.000-07:00

Cysticercosis

Time ticks by as the days pass that not one employer requires an employee with my background and education. I sit here now and document this note from our politicians: "now is the time for action and stimulus". With these words, action and stimulus, why hasn't anything been done? It has been two months since Canada's budget passed, hailed as the cowboys relinquishing 'conservative-rule'. These stools drummed up mixture of stimulated bullshit, a deficit of spending masked under the moniker of action and stimulus... In this spending, we've dedicated $12 billion for roads and walkways and $8 billion for housing - in hopes of generating or, as they so eloquently snuck into the mime, "protecting", 190,000 jobs. In amongst the budgetary balance, are bailouts - to the automotive sector - giving $12 billion bucks to help consumers buy more cars and spend more money - what better way to survive the recession than to go out and buy a new car! Thanks stool... But now as I sit stroking my educated degree gently in my lap almost reducing the sheepskin it's printed on to stardust, I think to myself, the bust is about to burst to the basement in this bubble... and I'm stuck in it without an umbrella...

Giardia Stools

New home starts are fine and dandy, but Canada has been crippled by a resource no longer valuable to the world - it's tar sands, oil sands, in-situ heavy oil, bitumen, bidumen, black bouillon, black billed ducks - what ever you want to call is just fine - just listen... the hub of Canadian biscuit development took on 156,000 new dwellers to it's boundaries from 2003 to 2008 - in that time, average value of a home went from $210,000 to $450,000. All told, 157,000 home (average) transactions took place in this time [20K in 2003 - 26K in 2005, 22K in 2004, 34K in 2006 (record), 33K in 2007, 22K in 2008]. If we average things out, let's say (450,000-210,000/6 years) = $40K 'average increase' in homes and say 22.6K average home sales per year. This equates to $5.4 billion extra dollars of money being used by the buyer to pay for a home - this is the money that is being collected and owed to the banks - and this is the money that one city hopes is still out there...

So as far as billions of dollars owed goes, the 'average' home buyer, or 157,000 people - populated the boundaries of a hub, destined to pump, produce and profit, far removed from a lesser known moniker, reduce, reuse and recycle. From the period of August 10th 2008 to April 8th 2009, joblessness in the hub of 1.1 million people increased from 3.3% to 4.8% - many of these unemployed with educated well paying degrees... With the math translating the words to 16,500 people finding the unemployment line, or proverbial pavement - this translates to over $740 million dollars of lost salary and wages, and up to $500 million dollars of debt owed... all from one hub...

Cucking Stools

With this debt owed, no doubtingly bailouts will burst forth - banks receiving support for their profiting off the boom. The aforementioned $5.4 billion owed from the increase in home prices is just the start - if we averaged the total amounts owed to the banks from the entire purchase of a home (not just the increase), this number could reach $11.8 billion. At the current rate of unemployment in the one bubbled hub, this could translate to $1 billion in bad debt so far, all in one hub... If we transpose the numbers from this hub to others across the country, hundreds of billions of dollars could be lost in the bank and mess of the housing industry, translating to a debt assumed to a population of 33,610,474 people in the thousands of dollars. And in a food, clothing, plastic and consumable market already pushed to the maximum with high oil prices, pollution restrictions and governmental legislation - the debt could be devastating - and there the stools are, pumping in $8 billion into an industry that could be on the verge of collapse...

Poppy Stools

As stools stand tall on podium pronouncing their verbal eloquence in the context of leadership - they mimic the cues and calls for support. As stools appoint each other Ministers, a title only befitting to imaginary statuses, nurses and ambulance chasers become Finance Ministers, property lawyers become Environment Ministers, and the corrupted become Health Ministers... As each stool passes through the bowels, they drag and pull on intestinal walls, scraping the innards of the lined cavities until they're flushed through the sphincter. As the Stools pass budgets and our moneys through the legislative processes, they dump and lend our money away, scraping the bottoms of our piggy banks until we're flushed out into the streets, homeless and hungry...

The practice of sustainability requires patience, analysis and ultimately pragmatic thought process. The stools who organized the CMHC to hand out impragmatic mortgages that allowed a 30% spike in bankruptcies from 2007-2008 in one hub (400% spike in December) deserve to be courtesy flushed down the drain... As the days tick and tock and the numbers continue to roll in... the bumpy ride we were on is about to get a whole lot bumpier - sea sick patches are optional. But in the advent of the aftermath, our past mistakes may lead us towards rebuilding proper sustainable economic practices... Generations have evolved since the beginning of the Industrial Revolution, and in that time, we've identified what makes us sick, what can kill us, and what is useful to us. As we pass through figuring out economies, eventually at some point in time, we should be able to figure things out. As far as I can tell, we have a known population, a known supply and amount of food that can be produced and managed with water and seeds, and a known number of dwellings, residences and lodgings. If we plug these numbers into equations of supply and demand - I'm sure some monkey out there can figure out how to balance an algebraic equation...

It is however, cautioned that the consumerism that feeds the GDP is an effect of transforming the algebraic balance into a differentiated equation - all in an attempt to predict delta Profit over delta time - it is in the hopes of the aftermath, that we can remove the cancerous growth that is the GDP, and find a suitable candidate to integrate the differential equation back into a common, integral algebraic balance... if there were only such a stool's tool...

Eurakyotic Development

2009-04-08T12:49:00.000-07:00

Opisthokonts

I grew up in this forested backyard - grasses grew in tension with the air, flowers flocked in their beds tightly tucked. I was lucky enough to be able to dig through dirt, hands deep in mud - I was always digging up earth worms to watch how they wiggle. I remember having this maniacal sense of magistracy when I'd cut them in half as they wiggled, only to see them sprout the other end out and continue on aerating and billowing.

Worms are fantastic creatures - and although I've outgrown the cruel sensation to play god, I still find worms fascinating - as if by studying their innate regeneration ability, we could one day mimic their processes for medical studies. But the evolutionary stepping stone that worms followed were pale, drawl, and down right boring in comparison to some of our closer brethren - as the bonobos would bellow.

Tree of Life

Bonobos seem to follow a code of monkey mischief lost in this primitive monkey brain - they tend to be altruists - an art so lost in splattered layers that the sense of the definition is never known to some... Tucked away in a corner of the Democratic Republic of Congo, the pygmy chimp, or aforementioned bonobo, has a DNA that matches our homo sapien variety, between 98 - 99.4%. They eat, they shit, they sleep. They've evolved their brains to understand that equality is a virtue - indicatively so, it is often interpreted that the female bonobo are the dominant sex - but so inconspicuously so as not to be arrogant or obnoxious - the bonobos seems to have mastered the concept of equality. What they've also discovered is the cure-all for any dispute - sex... Bonobos often mutually masturbate each other, enjoy French kissing and petting and are known to be big enthusiasts of PDA, or public displays of affection. They often enjoy sex prior to eating meals, and are known to be relieved of tension, hostility and overall aggression after sex - which in turn leads to more sharing of food and general care for one another. In doing so, males tolerate this lifestyle of constant sex, and the females form hierarchies of respect and trust in the form of a matriarch. For the most part, a male can be more popular under the wing of a popular bonobetty. In this lifestyle of sharing and sex, the bonobos are arguably the most compassion, empathetic, kind, patient chimps on the planet. No wars and plenty of sex, when they see a fellow bonobo in need or hurt or handicapped, they help. The ultimate altruistic hippy chimp.

Amoboezoa

But the bonobos' compassion, empathy, kindness and patience are characteristics that makes me think chimps can't be the only ones programmed for this behaviour - it can't be all that bleak to the humans family tree. As bleak as the outlook can be, wolves still bring food back to the pack, walruses and dogs adopt, and dolphins support the injured with a finned crutch in the depths of the oceans... and the bonobos are still monkeys.

It's strange to think of admiring a 'so-called' sub-species of life for their altruistic behaviour - this behaviour just doesn't happen that often in my neck of the woods these days. I still push trapped cars out of snow drifts or ditches, hold a door open for an incomer or outgoer, and spare a dime for anyone who asks - but the altruistic sense of 'doing for without' seems to be wrapped in circular logic by the Darwinists themselves - Natural Selection only increases the individuals chance of reproduction... altruism doesn't have a home in the theory of evolution...

Chromalveolates

As theories evolve, Darwin must be able to respect the path of society chosen by the benevolent bonobo... Survival of the fittest takes on new meanings to these monkeys. The bonobos carved a territory in this planet, have called it home and live a life only hiding from poachers and hunters. Food aplenty and casual sex only a hand tap away... the bonobos defined it all by listening and respecting their women - feminism at it's pure archaic form. It makes me wonder if feminism would thrive the world to the ways of the bonobo - pragmatic sex for all, mouths fed, injured healed, the cold warmed... Survival and existence in the simplest form - survival defined by the way of the bonobo - they've evolved their way to their garden of Eden in the congo - their own monkey utopia. It's too bad we weren't all monkeys... we were only missing 0.6-2% of our DNA to do it... as the great Charlton Heston once proclaimed: "Some apes, it seems, are more equal than others"

Circle of Fifths

2009-03-31T10:11:00.000-07:00

As I hopped onto the rabbit trail some many Easters ago, I turned my back on the hidden eggs my parents so benevolently hid from me. It wasn't as though I was unappreciative of my parents' kind nature of crediting a mythical bunny for their generosity, but I had the fortunate encounter with a rabbit hole big enough to fit my imagination - I no longer found significance in the coloured rabbit eggs hiding in the shrub - I'd always get too distracted by the bees buzzing around the berries that were growing on the shrub.

Chromatic Scaling

So as plums plopped and carrots karyo-typed their message, my rabbit trail ended at a bus stop. At this bus stop, a Ticketmaster tore of a taped ticket for the ten o'clock boarding to the University of Bunny Concern, or UBC for short. At UBC, this bunny was concerned with the make-up of karyotypes' make-ups - but it was a surreal struggle for this bunny, as if the transformative processes of metamorphosis that the bunny was studying infiltrated it's karyo-types and the carrots the bunny once craved were no longer edible. The evolutionaric metamorpholic contraband that poisoned the bunny was perhaps too self inflicted by the bunny beer busts and bunny burger buffets, but the bunny also began the Universal Bible of Carrot Caution - or UBCC for short. This thesis in bunny boundary definition allow the pain of metamorphosis to be eased by morphic tendencies - cautioning the bunny to beware of carrots Babeling universical tales of evolutionaric mistrust. But anyways, the entirety of the time spent at UBC was not just about UBCC, but more diving into the depths of rabbit holes and infinite numbers.

Pitch Class

There, at UBC, the imagination took on a new defined format - mathematics. The differential formulations defined by the imagination of math told ordinary tales of balance and algebraic braille, but as the UBCC thesis popped it's head out of the rabbit hole, math morphed into differential formulas defined by imaginary numbers predicting ordinate and in-ordinate tales of chaos and limitless life. What the struggle that this bunny found, was that the world of imagination in math only tried to define boundary-value solutions to boundless problems, the world of bunny rabbits is full of boundfull bruises and problems. What really threw a loop in the boundless birth of the UBCC was the radially emitted boundaries of circles, or spheres - the imaginative math that defines these boundaries broke open the limitless possibilities of Wonderland.

Wonderland was a limitless boundary, defined by the shape of a sphere - as more mass is added to the sphere, the hemispherical balance of pressure and gravity pushes back out, growing the sphere in a differential logic that puzzles the mathematician. With these growing pains, colours and light suddenly made sense, as if a circle dictated all things unknown to me - a circular path surrounding all my surroundings, falling back to a pre-set path as if all things were dictated by an innate sphere - our atoms.

Equal Tempered Composition

Concurrently, the UBCC thesis seemed to be a collaborative one, as one dark-haired musical bunny once showed me - the circle of rabbit holes and spheres could also be explained by fifths. One explanation I can offer is to define a circle - it has a start, it has and end, if defined by a datum point (or starting point). A straight line on a 2-D notepad didn't define a circle, nor does red define the spectrum of light in a rainbow. If we add more colour to spectrum, or say blue, the rainbow is not yet complete, nor is the circle complete with a secondary line added to the first, or the y-axis added to the x-axis. Now if any of these lines should bend, a third party is added to the mix or pastels, the bend finds the path back to the beginning, and the circle can be defined - as is the yellow to the cauldron of colour, as if the 3rd ingredient blends up the recipe for existence itself. The 3rd ingredient, or 3-D, allows things to live in the real, defined UBC.

What the dark-haired bunny explains, in the midst of circling fifths, is that adding ingredients after 3-D explains the necessity for infinite possibilities to exist. The dark haired bunny used musical ingredients to the colour wheel, allowing the explanation of music theory to be displayed by the mish-mash of 3-D yellow-blue-red light spectrum. Compositions of tension, angst, peace and harmony could be made using the colour wheel as guidance, and determined that music, as with colours, as with energy, and as with all things that tripped the curiosity of bunny rabbits down holes were explained by circles.

Enharmonic Key Signatures

With all good three-dimensional rules and laws, a fourth can always be added to the mix, creating circular bubbles to either burst, or grow serendipitously as if evolution depends on it. We see examples of fourth laws in thermodynamics, creating the unknown, unbewildered state of entropy - in newtonian laws with the insertion of gravity into motions - and in the colour spectrum with the insertion of darkness... The fourth ingredient seems to be the secret one, allowing the rules or laws or entity to actually exist.

In the example of spherical proportions, this bunny hopped on the wrong bus for a second - the bright colours and spinning mastery of the Circle of Fifths was too much of a distraction. But proportionately hopping back onto the UBCC, as a 3-D ingredient is added to two sticks, we kind of get the shape of a triangle - sticking oddly with all geometric angles, heating up the Karyo-typed stew to 180 degrees. The cooking time for Karyo-typed stew requires time and a count-up (as opposed to count-down), as the three legs of the triangle can be pushed and harmonized counting from 180 degrees twice, right up to a solidly round 360, or 12 moons by 30 suns. No additional ingredient is necessary for the evolution of a triangle to a circle, just time and space, from 180 to 360, from 6 moons to 12 moons, from 15 suns to 30 suns, and from Karyo-typed to Pro-Karyo-types and Eu-Karyo-typed, like all things evolutionary.

The Pythagorean Comma

As the evolutionary steps of the UBCC were finalized, UBC burst with admission requests, adding more and more bunnies to the mix. The response was disturbing to this bunny, as the UBCC continually require more and more evolution to it's tale, as if the 4th ingredient was that of the evil eggplant, poisonous to all bunny rabbits. But the fourth ingredient was simply a tale of evolution - adding a new balance to be sought, darkness to the colour wheel, zeroth law to chaos, gravity to all things in motion - and an evolved spherical balance of a circle. So to add a fourth element, or shape to a circle, we dive back into the world of imaginary mathematics (imaginary to this bunny anyways).

In the event of a fourth part to the circle, either a bubbly burst can happen (Chaos --> Balance), or the circle finds it's own balance, and the sphere grows larger, into bigger bubble. If more and more fourth elements are added to the sphere, a cone is sustained, creating shapes of carrot-rific proportions and boundaries. The cone, if permanently sustained, grows roots of reckless fervour, pushing cones into wormholes. The permanent sustenance of the 4-D ingredient is one that is left to the world of imaginative math, describing tales of cold fusion in thermodynamics, perpetual motion in newtonian laws and interstellar travel through wormholes in the case of rabbit holes.

The UBCC is a cautionary tale of circular logic and unknown tales that are yet to be discovered. The thesis of the UBCC never ended at the UBC, evolutionary magic is pushing the thesis beyond 360 suns x moons into deeper and deeper rabbit holes - internally until the depths of the rabbit hole finds the end...

Five Steps to Aphelion

2009-03-29T13:00:00.000-07:00

A thought came across my mind a few days back - the career of Will Smith is one of Scient-fictious proportions - Independence Day: Alien-blasting action, Men In Black: Alien-hunting action, I-Robot: Robot-hunting action, I am Legend: Post-Apocalyptic action, and of course, Hitch: the finest piece of Science Fiction ever to grace the good shelves of the video store. But with smadderings of other inspirational pieces (Six Degrees of Separation, Pursuit of Happiness, Seven Pounds) Will Smith went from Fresh Prince of Bel-Air to Gene Roddenberry of Distant Planets. It is no surprise to me that his family supports Scientology - his viewpoint on life must be a little enlightened with Asimov and Cruise whispering in his ears (it should be noted that he and his wife are supportive of all religions, and the Smith's do not subscribe to any of life's pre-scripted existences).

One thing Asimov whispered, was the futuristic world of robotic intelligence. In this portrayal, Smith played a circular logician at heart by the name of Spooner - who held an innate mistrust of all robots that lived amongst him. The plot surrounded the Three Laws of Robotics (Asimov added a Zeroth Law, so as to provide similar priority to the Laws of Thermodynamics) - whereby all humanity would be taken care of by robots (insert Wall-E storyline here) - no robot would harm any human in any type of fashion. But with this plot surrounding Three Laws, a loophole is discovered, only to find that the Three Law system has a hole looped in it - a circular logic nightmare for Artificial Intelligence - Chaos ensues and the Laws are not balanced until Entropy and Chaos are reduced to the Zeroth law, balance.

Balancing Act

To balance the beam of energy in all things, a beginning and and end are created, and along with way, much similar to the career of the aforementioned Smith, an Existence is formed - central to the soul and nervous system - central to the core of the counter-current creases of plasmic plutonic magma mining it's way through the mantle - everything begins and ends. Along the way, all of us roam our minds mimicking the soulful wanderer - driving pillars of thought into cortextual regions pushing us to the brink of insanity - or arguably our imaginations. As we roam the playground of the brain, the search to look inward and outward defines the wanderer. I realize it's difficult to lump things into two categories, but if we define a datum point, or a starting point, in a three-dimensional world, I can still go in polar-opposites - and along the way wanderers venture off into paths in all their spherical dreams, but a beginning and end do exist, along with a left and right, up and down, and inward and outward. If we assign the human body as the datum point, or starting point, the search for Existence can be defined as inward, or outward. The outward search creates definitions of outward, almighty powers - looking into the Heavens in search for any signs. Stars helped the Maya, Clouds and imagination helped the Theist. The search inward involved a more 'in'-depth analysis, magnifying the search for the soul into the tiniest molecules of perception. The search inward is as subjective as the search outward. Existence is subjective to all definitions.

To look inward brings on a plethora of other varying subjective definitions - all with the intention to define our actions to predict the future of consequences. Inward looking can be defined by mindful thought, describing the complex balance of chemical and neurons chattering electrochemical signals back and forth - the inward onlooker always describes experiences with definitions of energy beams and auras - the search inwardly always brings the onlooker closer to sentience and balance beams of energy.

Electron Clouds

As the path to inward onlooking proceeds, the electron microscope can mimic Galileo's intentions to look outwardly with the telescope. The electron microscope can be used to look inwardly, at our atomic structure. Schrödinger defined the atom in waves of energy, and proposed electron orbits is terms of energetic propulsions - rotating at various speeds based on the proximity to the nucleus. An example can be found here (click on the heavier elements to see Schrödinger's waves of electron paths). The paths were then modelled to predict the electron's consequence of orbital pathways - and created the cloud of orbits, as pictured in the model to the left.

So it is evident that all atomic structures, spin - rotating around in a fervor of mass and molecules. If we look outwardly, and seek answers in the Moon and Stars, we would follow traditions instilled by the Maya culture, dedicating our thoughts and charts to mapping the unknown outwardly. It must have perplexed the Maya to a fervor and fear with the conundrum - why do we always see the same face of the Moon? With all of this spinning and dancing through the skies, why does the Moon remain motionless, as if locked in an ever-lasting fight with the tides of the Earth - the Moon kisses our spinning planet. Is it possible for this conglomerated mass of asteroidic proportions to be the only spin-less species in our Solar System? The answer to this Cynic is a resounding 'no'.

So how does our Moon spin? The subjective aspect to this question sends me on the trip of a lifetime, through space and time, and into the realms of Science Fiction - a topic devoid of time and reasoning, only to be inserted as a 'What-If' category on bookshelves. Through the eons of spinning around the Earth, it's partner, the Moon has balanced its asteroidic proportions to the mass of the Earth, gently floating across the planes of the ellipsoidal paths of orbitals. As molten cores rotated, mountains evolved sending frictional rotations of molecules to the point of contact, delving into the first prokaryotic balances of cell structure. As if gravity were the mixing cauldron, the prokaryotic balance splits via mitosis, one cell drawn to the Moon, one cell drawn to the Sun, and so the cycle endured, re-building to the steps of mother nature and gravity, over and over each strand of deoxyribonucleic goodness. The mitochondrial revolution was afoot - and the Moon towered graciously spinning and engraving its face to our waters - over eons of spinning - the moon finally found the perfect equation to explain gravity's magic - it rotates in proportion to our pull - it spins to match our perfectly sculpted oceans - the magic of spherical orbitals.

[press rewind in top right corner - other spin 'sites' - here]

Farseeing Foresight

The outward search was revolutionized by Galileo Galilee as the telescope was pointed to the stars, rather than into each other's windows - and Galilee brought on a new era in outward searching, no longer reliant on mystical powers and false prophets, the stars told a tale of circular logic and eternal dances - solar orbitals. The orbitals' dance are almost defined by gears and pulleys, as if an everlasting tension is pulled tight between the moons and planets - always following a path dictated by unseen waves of energy - balance beams of perfection. With the perfect prom night promiscuously coming to a close, the solar system's balance is one of many. Populating the night's sky through the telescope's treasures. Dust, asteroids, belts, Titans, Plutos and Charons can all be found drifting aimfully - all in a circular pattern that only the kaleidoscope can mimic - repeated patterns of infinity, all the orbitals of our solar system map a cloud of balance, a cloud of electronic pulses finding a set pattern dictated by gravity - the unknown almighty.

other solar orbits sites - here and here

Circulating Logic

Courtesy: NASA/JPL Caltech

I don't often ramble on about being and existence much, but it was quite the experiment in Will Smith's antics as six degrees only separated my random thoughts of Will Smith to Existence to Atomic Structure to the Moon's Rotation to Solar Orbitals. But with only five degrees of separation I'm left with the though of Will Smith's Men in Black - specifically the final sequence depicted below - it reveals a small glimpse of an existence of the universe,

where our solar system rotates in the Milky Way, which rotates with other galaxies - which rotates around a defined sphere, or a marble.

The Sixth degree of my random thoughts involves the electron cloud mimicking the solar orbitals, as the picture of the Electron Cloud closely matches the image above of Solar Orbitals by NASA - as if the inward and outward elements of our make-up are all the same. Inside, outside, the make-up of our atoms is universal. As if circular logic could bind all things to the Sixth Degree just the way Perihelion always finds its way back to Aphelion.

The Shoemaker's Dialogue

2009-03-26T21:00:00.000-07:00

As if tripping back through time Simon said the world was black - and so the moon would set.

As if reaching for some red, Simon said the sky would fall, and Chicken Littles would be King

As if writing with a pen, Simon said the words will last, and the legacy would be read...

On Comparison

I had recently been discussing the definition of a pragmatic viewpoint and the cynical view point - the topic irked my brain into action. By purely going by definition from any standardized dictionary of smebrlcad ltretes, the pragmatic logician ranks viewpoints on practicality, utilizing priority-driven responses to dictate the moral and human response to thought. The pragmatic logician requires years of ethical assessment to dictate the proper response sequencing, but provided enough varied input, the pragmatic logician can easily dictate any diplomatic hostage situation. The cynical, however, is said to question the true nature of evil and mistrust itself, the cynic chooses to doubt every word ever spoken or written thinking that selfish interest is the only consequence available to an action - the cynic does not believe in the altruistic, or the benevolent. The cynic is sometimes mis-informed and is most definitely mis-interpreted.

On Cynicism

The Cynics, were first and foremost dedicated to the teachings of Socrates. In the advent of the 5th Century B.C. - the Greeks were sent a gift from Zeus, Hades and Poseidon - the foresight of knowledge and understanding ethical practice - the revolution of Philosophy. The conversations of Socrates and his closest associate, Simon the Shoemaker, were often in deep reflection from observation of the world around them. Simon, having been quite studious in the practice of leather-stitching, grew quite contemplative as the years passed alongside Socrates - and chose to continue following the conversations, even when provided more lucrative offerings to join the King's Parade as Court Jester in the role of Political Philosopher (a modern day Political Scientist perhaps?) - Simon said no, I choose to use neither my poverty nor my trade as a pretext for not doing philosophy - said in context of freedom of speech and the role of a Court Jester's lack of it - and so the Cynics were born.

On Pragmatic Determination

The Cynics were born from the stumblings and grumblings of a poor, soleful, shoemaker. Simon sat at his side, using the neurons of his mind, sending brainwave after brainwave of new thought into stashes of memory banks. Having lived his life in poverty, he saw, he undoubtedly wept, and he whisked his tongues with laces in servitude to an Empire. He listened, he connected, he understood, he questioned, and he wrote. He began using his pre-destined aptitude for lacing and penned arguably the greatest works of art ever lost - he wrote the words of Socrates himself. He penned the Socratic Dialogue - or more uncharacteristically aliased as the Shoemaker's Dialogues.

The Cynics were raised from the unworldly insanity of this man's refusal - the refusal to be rich. Simon said at a time, words of wisdom so proficiently powerful, prose itself proliferated it's prolific prowess to Providence. And the rich had noticed - blanketed in the deep depths of Hades, the political powers at play persuaded Aristotle himself - and were empowered with the wisdom of a philosopher reaching the people, or the political pawns. But the true philosophers noticed that the censorship and freedoms of speech lost when philosophizing in a political framework defeated the principles of philosophy itself - even Aristotle realized this - the Cynics realized this.

The Cynics were labelled as 'speechdom' fighters - hanging onto the words of truth no matter what the cost. Simon refused the bribes and offerings of the Empire, and instead chose to live life poor, with opportunity to take care of his sole - his hobby, Shoemaking. In his craft, Simon wrote 33 dialogues, or writings, or essays:

On the Gods
the Good
on the Honourable
what the Honourable is
the first Dialogue on Justice
the second Dialogue on Justice
on Virtue
showing that it is not to be taught
the first Dialogue on Courage
the second
the third
on Laws
on the Art of Guiding the People
on Honour
on Poetry
on Good Health
on Love
on Philosophy
on Knowledge
on Music
on Poetry
on what the Honourable is
on Teaching
on Conversation
on Judgement
on the Existent
on Number
on Diligence
on Activity
on Covetousness
on Insolence
on the Honourable
Some also add to these dialogues[]

On Activism

The Cynics determined self-sustenance was the key ingredient to the soup of our dirty sole-less feet. Simon says: "Let me become Simon the shoemaker so that I might converse with philosophers such as Socrates" - and so the Cynics did what Simon said, casting off richness and glory, all for the sake to be heard in free words - the Cynics decided that a life of self-sustenance on free thought is a life worth living - and so the Cynics followed the Shoemaker in a life of self-sustaining happiness, free from the dependence on external goods and circumstances - in a healthy mental state. The Cynics chose to choose their Significances - as evident through the odd behaviour of Diogenes the Cynic, who would hug statues in the depths of the worst winter colds, and would be rewarded as consequence, to the indifference to cold temperatures, and would no longer need extra clothing or heating to keep warm - his brain was indifferent to temperature senses.

In Conclusion

The Cynic reduces needs to a bare minimum. Simon wrote the teachings lost from an existence - the existence of Socratic Dialogue, and the lost key to assimilation of politics and philosophy. Philosophy lost the race for political prowess - all the cynical preachings of a soulful, pragmatic, Cynic. It now 2500 years since the tales of the Cynics were first told, and philosophy is still an art lost without a Shoemaker - choosing to hang out in cobbler's markets and discussing in free contextual manner. The political merger between philosophy died when the lost art of Simon the Shoemaker's dialogues were lost - never to be restructured again. The Cynics were followers, dedicated to preserving the Socratic Dialogue in the hopes of better uses - but 2500 years later, the political game is still one that is wrought with religious intentions. Philosophy has arguably evolved since the days of Simon's sayings, merging into Scientific realms stretching our i'maginations to unarguable truth - and perhaps with this better understanding of human interactions, benevolences, altruisms, regrets, faiths, justices and health a new breed of Philosophical thought may evolve - one of Pragmatic determination and Cynical sensibility that only true sentience can comprehend - a Philosophy of Life - and the mad scribblings of a few Shoemakers...as Socrates said, the shoemaker is dutiful in the "art of taking care of one's soul".

"Simon the shoemaker [...] someone who is greater in wisdom than anyone ever was or will be"- Aristippus

"Zeno said that Crates was sitting in a shoemaker's shop and reading aloud Aristotle's Protrepticus which he had written for Themison, the Cyprian king. In it he said that no one had more advantages for being a philosopher, for he had great wealth so that he could spend money on this activity and still have his repuatation intact. And Zeno said that while Crates was reading, the shoemaker was attentive but all the while kept on with his stitching. And Crates said, It seems to me, Philiscus, that I should write a Protrepticus for you, since I see that you have more advantages for being a philosopher than the man for whom Aristotle wrote" - Teles apud Stobaeus Anthologium

Home Grown Juice

2009-03-24T11:00:00.000-07:00

As the days go on and my search for a permanent job continues, I've been contemplating several different Plan 'A's right to Plan 'ZZZ' - but one thing I've found so strange, that with all my trials and tribulations for an educated degree I still cannot find employment in my home town that fits me. I think, for the most part, I've been slapped with a big fat label on my forehead - as if that $40,000 education typecast me as a 'B-movie-extra' - left to sit in the background while 'more-experienced men' (i apologize to you ladies, but come-on, it's mostly men at the top, i doubt I'd take on such a negative tone if a few ladies were in charge of corporate buffoonery - well most ladies** anyways [** ladies refers to the exclusion 'Wedding Planning' as a hobby on a curriculum vitae] but i digress) plan the structure and organization of our economic make-up. Well, as it continues, my great leaders have still not come up with any tangible plan to rescue 'our' economy - nothing. Canada has been exposed to a purplish curtain curtailing our curiosity to the point where we still somehow have a housing and banking industry floating above the complete crash - or do we? At this point in time, Canada is balancing on the edge of a cliff, moving slightly downgrade, but horizontally along the plane of the cliff - Canada has managed to balance on the edge of disaster, while never fully acknowledging we need help and we're in trouble. The sub prime mess that stirred up to the melting pot in the U.S. is a homegrown remedy of our own - we sucked in the spoonfuls of rotten cough medicine, and are about to puke up the phloem all over ourselves.

Plan 'ZZZ'

When I first was searching for a property to purchase, I was offered a plethora of different options to mortgage, 5%, 15%, 0% down all at my fingertips. My broker and I discussed the 0% down option, which she negatively criticized and I agreed, but the option was still there. Now if we insert the right proportion of 'unscrupulous' individuals into our equation - where rich get rich quicker than you can say ponzi, the 0% down option suddenly becomes this cash cow of a farmer's wet dreams - just walk right up and buy the farm! Who cares that the bank will actually own it for 70% of my lifetime, I can live the now! And as if the leadership of Canada is still living in the now of 2006, the Stools at the top are bailing out executives, again.

The U.S. has led the way exposing the plight that the common Capitalist endures. Capitalism requires competition - the driver behind the wheel to ensure that fair prices are to be delivered on time to all delivery recipients. However, as capitalism grows, a Capital peaks, and is eventually reached - one winner amongst all deliver drivers - these are the ones that figure out the streamlined effect for perfect growth - growth that has no boundaries and evolves with humans and technology - growth that is delivered on time and at the perfect temperature for digesting - the perfect pizza delivery boy. Capitalism can thrive on this type of delivery boy. But what we see today isn't quite capitalism anymore - it's more of a collusion or colluding effect. The competition to deliver fair prices is still there, however there are only a few at the top that have figured it all out - how to plug their electric drivers into the global, mass communication world of the online and global delivery service - how to play the game that is dictated by sets of rules dictated by the conductor of all global traffic. The question still remains - who is that global conductor of drivers and delivery? Who conducts the orchestra?

The Colluding Effect

The question can inevitably be answered - the consumers - us. The US may still be defined in a capitalistic fashion - however with capitalism, we as us, observe that capitalism really only serves those at the top - as stratification of incomes is an easy economic target to monitor - the old saying "the rich get richer and the poor get poorer" really hasn't died now has it? (unlike "what's good for the goose is good for the gander", who's saying died off when we realized that men and women are very different species) Now in the instance of competition, I'll present the scenario of going 'grass-roots' - Grass, in particular, can be grown as a seed product for lawns and landscaping - Grass just grows - as easy of a grass-roots analogy as I can get. Grass relies on water, water is available to us all at a fair price (see below). If I choose to start a new job (as I explained, my government hasn't found me a job yet) and begin my own grass-turf company, I need - a shop, building and area for growth ~ $500,000, or $10,000 per month. Seed product and start-up costs ~$5000 - time and labour - Free. Developing clientele - walking and talking and typing. So if we examine the most difficult tasks above, developing clientele and the time and labour are definitely the most difficult tasks to finish - yet these are the ones that are free! The easiest task, buying grass seed and dirt and finding a building, are easy, but the most expensive. So irregardless of this paradox, I go on and develop a clientele, grow grass seed and start selling - I've observed the market, my prices are fair and I make a profit. Now, as it stands, two scenarios can play out.

1) I'm approached by my competition, the uber-powerful and ultra growth oriented GrassMart, who offer me a fair price for my business, I can either a) accept the offer or b) reject the offer.

a) by accepting the offer I've closed shop, made some money and moved on to greener pastures

b) i reject the offer. Now under this scenario, timing is a big key indicator. How long have I been in business to pay off my initial investment and have turned a profit to actually make money. This is where under a 'colluding' scenario, the big dogs are the only ones to bark, and their bite is mean. Collusion of an industry allows the product providers, or delivery boys, to dictate the price of their services. These are instances where the value of a product can be manipulated by these individuals, for example OPEC***. In my rejection of the offer, I suffer the consequences of an open market being dictated by measures out of my control. If I reject the offer, I can see the value of my grass seed product plummet, down the drain and sustainability of my grass-roots effort can easily be pissed on and destroyed. Just like that.

(There is a c) scenario where I reject the offer and GrassMart comes and slaps a lawsuit for seed-patent infringement, but I should move on....)

***

However with OPEC, this consortium maintains the oil price at a fair value. The rise in the price of oil during the years from 2003 - 2007 were a function of the massive growth and consumerising nature of the US - it peaked as the US economy peaked and plummeted in turn. The US created the rise in oil prices, not the OPEC. But as things expanded, Canada went on and started to build the great machine that digs, pumps and pushes oil on us. The costs, as things expanded, also expanded, creating a bubble of expensive food, expensive gas and expensive lifestyles. In Canada, with oil at $50 USD, we still pay $0.85 for a liter gasoline ($3.22 per gallon). What could be happening, and this is all speculative of course, is that Canada can no longer sell it's expensively produced oil to the world. The world no longer needs our dirty oil, so we keep it for ourselves. But as we keep it for ourselves, we don't buy any other cheap - easily accessible oil. The oil that keeps our tanks at $0.55 a liter, the oil that keeps the costs of our lifestyles down. Canada has just seen an inflationary bump in costs to everything that relies on oil and gas to grow. Food, clothing, and all the pizza delivery drivers across this nation will have to pay a little more. This is a product that we never asked for, but is being pushed on us by the refusal to compete in a Capitalistic world.

delivery drivers

Approximately a week ago, Canada's leaders spoke up and discussed one of our most precious resources, our Water. As the world grows hungrier and gets thirstier, water is becoming an ever-increasing more valuable resource. Huh - imagine that - the element that composes 90% of our body mass, and we can't get enough of it clean. Anyways, Canadian leaders showed great valour, saying, 'This is Ours - We Need to Protect our Resources". Valid point, valid case. There is a case where water is essential to all of us, if Canada has mis-managed resource allocation, or if this Global Warming threat is real, we do need to protect ourselves - I agree. But if we look at number and equations (... starts to drool...) 30.3% of Canadians rely on groundwater, the remaining 26 million or so get water from other fresh sources, rivers, great lakes, rain, snow, etc... Groundwater is part of the sub-class, Freshwater, as contaminants picked up from it riding gravity through soil, waste and material eventually ends up as a murky aquifer or aquitard, laying in a bed of geological structure and rocks. Canada has begun to research our reserves, with one study being executed to determine a "facility for the extraction of up to 300,000 m3/a" (alot of water - humans use about 15-20 m3 daily). But what the research and reporting will do is determine that Canada has a heckuvalota groundwater. So water, water everywhere, why not have a drink?

Freshwater

The glory to have water as a great resource should depict the value to it's people - it's population. So as a Canadian, I am a little perplexed why we fall in the category of 'not-so-good-water-management' - see here. Apparently, Canadians pay a little more for their water. As a vast country in the North, we don't quite equal Mexican water costs, or Japanese costs, or the US's, or Australia's. We pay more for our water to drink and swim. We clean it up, distribute it through our faucets into our 90%+ make-up. The completely renewable water source.

So with room to grow, the conundrum for a nation is - do we grow? Do we grow water? Do we harvest this resource and distribute it off into the poorer countries, capitalizing on their misfortunes? I fear that the words of our politicians have set this up - we want to protect our vast resources - we want to value what we have - we want to set a price on our water for trade. It will soon be discovered that Canada may hold a key to the Groundwater conundrum - it may soon be discovered that we have our own Nubian Aquifer - an aquifer in Africa so big it could provide water for 1,000,000 people - but is so wrapped up in political upheaval that no one can figure out how to pump it out... But what Canada also holds is the power to turn the faucet on - to pump and dig - but what I fear is that Canada's water may become so polluted with capitalistic intentions that our waters and our livelihoods become controlled by interests that aren't my own.

Nubian Aquifer

If Canada were to lead this charge, and once delineation of our waters is determined, we need to step up - cut our own water bills first, and consider water an essential element of life - no cost associated with water. Every one should be able to find a free faucet for life. Conservation will be key, however once this step is concluded, we can set up international aid donations. For every dollar donated of water, a tanker is filled and shipped to a third world filling station - free of charge with the donations of dollars. Canada could feed the world the tastiest kool-aid coloured flavour to tickle all taste buds - the taste of water - if we only lost our competitive intentions.

Water is born of elemental nature -

Water is a unique element, displaying sublimation characteristics unknown to any other earth element -

Water is a secret ingredient to life itself -

Water is a liquid at room temperature and pressure -

Competition is born of thermodynamic entropy - greed

Competition is a cloned ideal, displaying destructive characteristics on all earth elements.

Competition is a secret ingredient to slavery itself.

Competition is a curse in modern times and a technological age.

Gravitational Callings

2009-03-22T18:16:00.000-07:00

The only regrets I've had in life, were ones that were created when I've wanted acceptance. These were the unresolved questions that simmered into the depths of my cerebrum and lay there unanswered conducting the orchestra of my dreams. The Beethovinic tunes that play in the restless and restful hours of my life created dances of tribal torture and symbiotic interpretation - leaving fragments and scars along my cortex that were replaced by the axiomic neurons reigniting past flames of memory. The regrets in my life kept me awake some nights.

Sleep Apnea
One regret that kept me tossing and turning amongst the many sleepless nights, was a continuous question that had no answer - the proof that an almighty power was real. At times as a child I would stay awake in an attempt to speak to the Almighty, asking for any insignificant or significant indication of its presence - I would, in equivalence sake, be in deep meditation to God trying to make that connection - but this was a connection that never left me satisfied - my acceptance to an Almighty power was never gratified - and I lay awake in regret - with only my dreams as my eternal dance with peace. I would look to the stars for any answer - and as the universe danced, the meanings and intonations expressed by Beethoven, Mozart and Bach suddenly made sense. I looked to meaning - why things work, why things act - and the microscope grew more powerful. I began looking internally - no not quite metaphorically, but my brain was a curious one, and told me to electrify my spidey senses and look at my structure - my Atom.

Schrodinger's Atom
Erwin Schrodinger was born in Vienna, Austria in 1887. His upbringing brought him to studies in philosophy, perception, colour theory, and Vedanta. Later in mid-life, he dedicated his works to quantum mechanics, and is his best known for his determination of quantum wave theory. Schrodinger had determined equations that predicted the wave electrons flowed and created energy. Upon befriending Einstein and no doubtingly discussing the humiliation of humanity of the Third Reich's idiocy - Schrodinger came up with the thought conundrum to tickle all the twinkles in the Physicists eye - the Schrodinger's Cat Thought Experiment. Schrodinger essentially dedicated his life to determining the mystery of the atom - how it's formed, how it's emitted, how it's energized. He came up with quantum determinations that gave Scott Bakula the leap of a lifetime - a Quantum Leap - a definition of an electron's path to the formations of all the elements in our periodic tables. Schrodinger was, arguably of course, a genius.

As an atom, matter is mostly stored in a tiny ball - similar to the tension built up from long lost memories - it's stored like the core of the Earth is molten tight. In order to possess energy and the secret ingredient to life, the atom's mass creates this magical thing called Gravity - the provider of life itself - without gravity we would be like two plastic bags dancing in the wind without a care in the world - without gravity, our waters and beers and margaritas would swell up to the little tiniest droplets of mist - only to be nanosecondly whisked away to the bare quirks and quarks of our make-up - we just wouldn't exist without gravity. Gravity provides the random paths for our electrons to spin, up or down, left or right - while also providing the essential laws to dictate our universal presence in the galaxies - gravity is the ultimate law ready to wrassle all cowboys and outlaws with a rope of invisible tension - gravity is that call to be as one.

Quantumly Leaping
Schrodinger's wave rides gravity to the point of exhaustion - it predicts where an electron will be at any one point in time as it vibrates across it's wavelength - Schrodinger, arguably defined the mystery of life and how we're created - he basically disproved the presence of an almighty creator with his whimsical cat purring in the background, ready to be poisoned by hydrogen cyanide. It was no surprise to me to discover he had cast aside the teachings of a Catholic father and a Lutheran mother when studying molecular theory - I had done the same in a sense - I stopped praying to God and searching for His presence as I studied the world around me. I never considered myself religious, nor of any following, Atheist, Agnostic, Secular - I didn't want the label. It's been a strange companion to not be convinced of an almighty - I've found myself more passionate for other things as I replaced my longing for acceptance from God - it seemed that as soon as I gave up my search for an answer - I lost all my regrets and no longer worried about things - I could take care of myself - I didn't need to wait for someone to come and save me - I didn't need to have the constant disappointment of waiting for that lucky Lottery ticket of life - I didn't want to gamble my existence on the roll of a dice through the roulette wheel - I didn't want to rely on chance. I took the chance that I could study my own atomic structure and understand the true nature of creationism - I studied the atom and its magical make-up of the true almighty power - the world of Gravitational force.

Three Blind Mice
Gravity, is said, to ride everything - as a modest mouse once told me. Disney had nothing on this mousey character though - this creature whispered to me that gravity calls every single piece of innate matter to eventually be as one - almost as if gravity is the true creator. Stephen Hawking theorized that the Universe was once a still-standing piece of everything - matter and mass so dense that every particle was one condensed thick ball of goop - we were all the same clump of infinite matter. The Big Bang, theorizes that at some point in time, in an instant, matter had a bang that was big, as if the wrassling cowboy fired off a shotgun round into the air to scare off the coyotes - all matter in the universe raced off to the unknown distance, feeding off all the entropic nature of chaos - breaking all the laws of thermodynamics that could ever explain its birth - the universe expanded. But in the ever expanding universe, things gravitate the wave back to one - calling every single piece of matter to be together. Somehow with gravity, the first pieces of eukariotic and prokariotic matter balanced a formula to create a spin of mystery - Life in the bubbling stew of primordial goop.

An Elephant Never Forgets
What gravity doesn't explain are left to human interpretations - but for some reason, human interpretations, specifically subjective ones - have tried to define what gravity already has - the mystery of life and the atom. The ability of humans to be sentient beings still remains a mystery, and a profoundly subjective one at that, however, as we continue to map our brains and count the precursors of Dopamine and Serotonin addiction, we continue to understand how we think - imagine that - we're discovering how we think by thinking about it - damn are humans ever cool creatures. But mimicking the great elephants search for greener pastures, we often put our hopes and dreams in the stead of a Matriarch - someone to lead us to the safety of good fortunes. Elephants are, however, more instinctive beings, following the Matriarch to the paths previously paved by elders that solved the mazes to the Garden of Eden. But with instincts, also come memory, thoughtfulness and sentience - elephants sense the necessity to mourn a lost loved one - elephants live by a code of sharing, togetherness and survival that other creatures on this planet need to mimic. Elephants are arguably, the most developed sentient beings on our planet.

Pachydermatic Cloning
What elephants lack are the eternal search for the definition of our existence - they lack Religion. Religion has influenced a large percentage of the earth - reaching an estimated 80% of the total population. The remaining population untouched from religious followings are ones who answer 'no' when asked if they believed, or do not follow any particular faithful teachings in general. Totaling approximately 20% of the world's population, they don't meet on a regularly scheduled basis like all other followers so - they simply live and pay taxes - two certainties of life - everyone lives, and everyone pays taxes. This 20% live under the balance beam of Jamaican dance, limboing through the targets placed on us from the remaining 80%.

I was amazed to discover that the largest increase to a religious following, was the faith of the Mormon church. Apparently these followers of a Smith's mimics to Mickey Mouse have increased through the spread of their Mission. It is estimated that over 50,000 youth followers, mostly male, spread their word like the catholic reach of the right - converting approximately 800 followers everyday, and an estimated 300,000 every year, mostly across areas outside the continental North America. The net worth of the Mormon church is currently worth billions of dollars today. The Church of Latter Day Saints still seems to be profitable.

Minimalizing Wavelengths
Still with all these conversion, the dent in the stratification still minimizes the overall impact of the Mormon church. The secular world does seem to be holding strong. From 1990-2000, the secular beliefs have increase in the US by 110% (Source: here) - much greater than the 5% increase the Christian (includes Mormons, Catholic statistics) but short of the path that Hinduism (237% increase in US), Buddhism (170% in US) and Sikhism (338% in US) have led. However, even as they increase in numbers, the secular world is a world that is un-united - a world without a voice in North American politics - a world that outcasts them as Martians and labels like Atheist. It is actually true that most non-believers do not prefer to be labelled as Atheist, as the connotation sparks slight takes of outrage with Religious followers. The Atheist, in a sense, prefers to not discuss Religion, as the counter-points to the argument usually lead to frustration and ignorance by both parties, and a flip of the coin leaves the two antagonists left in regret.

In a sense, the sentient thought that leads to atheism, agnosticism, secularism or humanists is developed through the pragmatic determination of observations. The role of the Religious follower is the opposite, choosing to rely on a blind faith in mighty mouse while following a Matriarch not fit to follow - the Elephants will never forget your lies, your deceit and your complete lack a true gravitational calling to existence. It's time that this atheist, agnostic, non-believer, secular, cynical, pessimistic, existentialistic or whatever fucking label is applied to cast off whatever nay saying, illogical, craps hoot card games are being dealt. Down with Religion and down with regrets. The pachyderm will only live in regret when mourning a loved one - and the pachyderm will follow a true Matriarch to greener pastures... pragmatic reasoning at it's best.

Purple Haze

2009-03-19T13:50:00.000-07:00

All in my Brain

Conspiracies are often masked behind a haze of smoke and mirrors, all with the same motivation to distract the truth from being sought. For decades, Western culture has devoured a juicy conspiracy ripe with the juices so sweet that satisfaction is never reached - we go on searching for more... and they always seem to pop up right in front of our noses, signaling the olfactory nerves to smell in the odours and determine if the stink of smoke is flatulence - or the sweet smell of purplish plants...

Conspiracies have bred trend-setting stylists into: roll camera - Action! From Mel Gibson and his portrayal of a psycho-loner lunatic who fancied The Catcher in the Rye in Conspiracy Theory, to Oliver Stone and Waterworld-famed Kevin Costner's search for the truth behind the JFK assassination - to the cult-like followers of Zeitgeist, conspiracies are gobbled up with consumeristic enthusiasm that rivals our thirst for donuts and oil.

Lately Things Don't Seem the Same

I don't often rely on one media source for information, however the posting on Illuminati News brought excellent facts, formations and photographs to my fingertips - a conspiracy so gobbled up in consumeristic conceited cobblestones of corruption that even the pot user can't be 'chill' on this one - the conspiracy of marijuana.

Four score and 210 years ago - hemp was considered a natural plant of society. Laws were in place to protect the natural herb from prohibition, and for a period of time in Virginia - it was illegal to NOT grow hemp. Laws were put in place allowing citizens to pay their taxes USING hemp - allowing earth and herb inhabitants to live a sustainable life on the herb. George Washington, Thomas Jefferson and Ben Franklin all supported the movement to industrialize hemp to its full potential, growing and processing the herb themselves. Strong ropes were made, clothes were fabricated, books were written, even the first bibles, flags of independence and constitutions were written on hemp. Hemp was the sacred saviour of humanity - food, fiction and non-fiction, flags, flip-flops and fashionable boutiques all flocked to find the fine fabric flowing from hemp. Mr. Ford even made the Model-T run on hemp-oil-gasoline and even built parts of the vehicle out of wire woven hemp. The US government even promoted farmers to grow hundreds of thousands of acres for the support of our troops during the World Wars.

And then the smoke came - like out of the deep haze of a purple fog - the conspiracy of media manipulation began.

Actin Funny, but I don't know Why

With the onset of industrialization in the U.S., products, oil, plastics and electronics soon became popularized. There Will be Blood identified the insatiable thirst for oil, and the ease of plastic production injected the moulds of consumerism to a country of burgeoning GDP. Then the Hoover vacuum sucked us dry and sucked our fine herb of humanity into the vortexes of a twisted destructive hurricane.

Herbert Hoover was inaugurated as the 31st president of the United States as a Republican in 1929. Hoover had to suck it up, and endure a stock market crash 8 months into his presidency, and never really shook out the cobwebs of the Great Depression, relinquishing his post in the next election. But during this time, the Progressive Reformer appointed a crony of his, Andrew Mellon, as secretary of the US Treasury. In doing so, Mellon, or the mellonhead, cut taxes like no man's business - reducing top income earners taxes from 77% to 25% - an astounding shift in stratifying economics, and a precursor to the Reagonomics we endured in the last quarter of the twentieth century. The mellonhead, as a secretary of commerce, was allowed to appoint the new Elliot Ness of drugs, the father of the War on Drugs, and he appointed an in-law, the guru of ungodly drug use, Harry J. Anslinger. At the same time, the mellonhead began investing in Dupont - a popular plastics and consumeristic purveyor of popularity - and at the same time Anslinger, slung mud and slander at the plants grown from mud with cander.

The REEFER MADNESS campaign began in 1935, entitled - "Marihuana - Assassination of Youth". Targeted at slandering Mary Jane as a violent narcotic, the campaigns depicted extreme violence, incurable insanity and axe-wielding murders as a consequence of Mary Jane's presence - and soon transformed the peace-loving farmers into self-repugnant condescending critics of the herb - all the while billowing a cloud of purple smoke across the dreams of their fore-fathers - four score and seven years is all it took. And the score was never settled - the campaign of terror and fear took hold a nation - it grasped the guts the herb's root, and tore out its humanity without ever being a word of truth. The conspiracy had been conspired - and in 1937, the most useful product humanity could arguably have known - was outlawed.

Years passed, ideologies died, and Mary Jane continued to be persecuted for a crime she didn't commit. But GDPs ballooned, the Great Depression sunk, and plastics and televisions became colourful to our very eyes - we became blind to the purple haze. Infiltrating with Beaver Cleavers and Andy Griffiths, TV plugged our eyes and ears from the truth, and we blindly watched.

Scuse me, while I Kiss the Sky

The truth behind the smoke screen set up by entertainment, TV and Purple People Eaters says that our fine herb is truly a blessing from nature - impregnated here to benefit humanity - not poison us like the synthesized euphoric fabrications of our chemistry sets (cocaine, heroin, LSD) mixed up in the laboratories of our pharmacists. The herb of hemp produces hemp oil, an oil so powerful in it's concoction, that the tanks of our motorized vehicles could be powered by the herb. The herb of hemp cures us of pains associated with glaucoma, the trials of cancer, and the general soreness of our souls. The herb of hemp can feed and clothe us, providing high-protein hemp seed products, or titanium-equivalent durable strength in our clothing. The herb of hemp can even be processed into biodegradable plastics, returning to the earth naturally, as opposed to the near-infinite eternal nature of the black bouillon of petroleum-based plastics. The Herb of Hemp could arguably save our society from greed and corruption - igniting a flame and smoke so powerful that Utopia and Freedom almost seem visible from the distance from the Purple Haze - but the mud slinger that was Anslinger took our biodegradable plastics away - as Dupont cashed in the riches of our freedom, and so the conspiracy is told.

Am I Happy or in Misery - Whatever it is, that girl put a spell on Me

The true nature of marijuana, or Mary Jane's plight, is that it does alter our reality, allowing the user to become more aware of their surrounding and interpret truth and justice in ways our cerebral Left Hemispheres can't do alone. We produced products of synthesized drugs that continued to alter this reality, only to determine that we didn't know what we mixed in the cauldron, or how it deteriorates our minds are realities to dust. And for some reason we lumped the Natural Herb of Hemp into this category - a category of human intervention and mad chemist mixing of products we didn't understand. We now populate a world of science, technology and research that often requires generations to prove or disprove. We've proven that heroin, cocaine, LSD, PCP, Crystal Meth and Ex are all destructive chemical compounds we generated - but throughout the generations, we have not proven that Hemp is a destructive property - we only put a smoke-screen on top of hemp, limiting it's potential to grow and inhabit the Earth like it was destined to be - destined to live alongside humanity profiting only on our happiness and not on our greed. If I were to pray to a higher power - it would be to hemp - hoping that its seeds of hope spreads eternal. I would pray to the Goddess of Mother Earth.

**UPDATE - Researchers at Stanford University have identified a biodegradable plastic consisting of Hemp fibers fused with a biodegradable plastic resin, PHB. The researchers hope that the bioplastic will replace building materials and plastics that currently rely on petroleum-based feedstocks. More information can be found here.

Acronyms Attack - the GDP

2009-03-18T12:02:00.001-07:00

Products of domesticated value - these are the things we consume, eat, swallow, throw out and die for. These are the products that Miley Cyrus, General Electric and Walmart push on us. These are the products that were soaked in by the throw-away culture - these are the products that corrupted the culture of quality assurance and quality control for the ever lasting growth and sustenance of the profit margin, and these are the products in which we were told to shop. We were told to go shop while a war was waged, we were told we could support our troops by continuing to spend. We were told this to proliferate and keep the growth of domesticated products at the bursting seams of a bubble - but we were never told that we were all grown up.

Cesarean Section
The industrial revolution literally paved this country grey - amidst all the natural green, amber, red and blue beauty that Canada beholds, we paved the trees so we could live in freedom - but we never clued in to the fact that the industrial revolution paved the way to a throw away society. Trucking routes opened up paths to stores, paths to cash registers, and a path to your kitchen garbage can. A Sony product I once bought went on the fritz 4 days after my manufacturer's warranty had expired - they recommended a variety of replacement products, all I had to do was work a few days to earn it... and throw away my old one... As technology grew, so did the concept of throw away ideals and principles, the GPD would never have bulged it's twine from the core without these ideals. I recall in my early days of University, I had heard that John Henry Ford blueprinted the perfect automobile that could last a lifetime - and he threw it all away to sustain the ideal of 'throw it all away' - the Ford family would never have reached it's wealth otherwise. The death of the electric car came too soon in our technological taste tests.

Terrible Twos
The principles of GPD growth relies on two things - an increasing population, and an increasing debt-to-income ratio. I grew up in the days of hand-me-down sweaters, sock-puppets and soccer balls - but as I grew, the Reaganomics of the GDP growth became ever-increasingly skewered - and the hand-me-down traditions of our past generations vanished - I grew up in consumerism - the isms of all holy isms. As the fridges hummed and toilet bowls flushed, CDs replaced tape decks, and DVDs replaced CDs, and Blurays have replaced DVDs - all in a similar tribal fashion to Window 95 replacing MS-DOS, only to be replaced by Windows 98, only to be replaced by XP - and now by Vista - each edition brought more powerful stations - and powerful information at fingertips, and the ever-increasing powerful garbage heap. But as I've peaked to the precipices of my purpose - I've always wondered - how can technology advance any further - and I tell myself - technology should hold back it's reigns on consumerism, and dart back down from the ism, to science.

Growing Pains

But as things bulge and burst to it's seams - we have become ever increasingly more aware of our status and place on this earth than ever before. I do realize environmental enthusiasts have been spouting off about global warming for years and have yet to show any progress, but the '80's were the start. Generations removed from the first sparks of the industrial and consumerist revolution, we started to see the effects on our health, our environment and our Gross National Happiness index - they all began to deteriorate - all while the oil drum resonated the constant beat of the GDP - it grew. We have now passed another generation since the '80's, entering a generation currently lost in the mix of what to do, how to fix things, and how to restructure. Wikipedia may never come up with these answers, but it is the simple fact that the population boom of the North America has peaked - we've finally conquered the World. Growth, in the terminology of global population, has started to hit the apex of the turn - humans are beginning to level out their spread of catholic practices.

Developing

Africa is a continent, for the most part, considered undeveloped. The G20's of the growth curve have hit their peak - they can't possibly stuff any more sardines into this can. So to ensure growth in a closed system, G20's begin to segregate wealth and opportunity to those that are left in the dust, those that are left in Africa. And the situation is beginning to get dire in Africa - upheavals, destruction and genocide of a continent lost in the mix of our idiosyncrasies and ideological nightmares. The stratification of income in our own countries of North America don't come close to the stratification if we superimposed the continent of Africa on our charts and chants.

Puberty
So through all this, North America came up with another solution - China. The super-rapid-cagilistic expansion of the Chinese Empire gobbling up Western traditions fueled our fires during the onset of our Y2K fears. They, the Chinese, ate - and when you eat Chinese, you're always hungry for more - but the Chinese provided discounts on merchandise, materials and matter - discounted from the equations of GDP growth - discounted as a trade surplus for them, and at a trade deficit from North American labourers and drones. What was hidden in the Chinese firecracker was that deficit of trade trickling through the cracks. The Walmart shelves are actually a goldmine of material, and if each element and compound of the trinkets and Hanna Montana dolls were weighed by their individual worth on the world wide web of trade, we would find that wow - what a bargain shopping at Walmart is! And then we throw it out. The Chinese trade deficit is rumored to be floating around $1.8 trillion US dollars. That's $12,000 for every US citizen. And now the US has lost it's marbles in the sack of sorry upper tier echelon-ic aristocracy - the rich got richer, and the poor are bailing out the miserable executives. The US can no longer grow. They paved their lands from ocean to ocean, and are facing immigration concerns - the US no longer wants to grow. So how is GDP sustained? President Obama is trying to find those answers right now.

Generation X-ing
If we float across the great lakes of Ontario, we can also see what Ottawa is doing - what the stools of black biscuit tar pucks are contemplating as a recipe for disaster. For some reason, the Stool of the stead openly invited one of the curators of the crisis meltdown into our country - and with a pat on the back, as if we were saying, way to go buddy - ata commit a war crime - we let him go. But perhaps the Stool had other things on his mind - the flush of the toilet is perhaps sending this Stool into the depths of Lake Ontario - Canada is on the brink of finding out how impervious to growing pains we really are - we are about to find out how we can survive now that our kid sister, the US, is having it's dollar devalued and is having its entire economy crash to a halt. Recessions are never easy, they are never fast, and now that the once-appointed leader of the Bank of Canada, another car enthusiast in Dodge, has said that Canada is become a pasture of poop and manure so stench-worthy that even Stool won't be able to find a home, perhaps we'll find out how clueless the leadership of this country truly is... and yet they continue to lie - Canada hasn't been impervious to the crisis - we've had our own sub-prime mortgage mess ready to rear it's ugly head - all on cue after the ungracious meltdown of our kid sister - Canada's on the verge of feeling puberty rear it's ugly head and flood hormones of angst and misery across the nation...

All Grown Up
Canada faces the biggest challenge of all - keeping our GDP growth sustained. But GDP growth to a country that has burst at it's seams is only self-serving to the executives at the top. Perhaps the new wave of politics and puppeteering should focus on a new acronym - GPI - or Genuine Progress Indicator. The GOP, DEM, PC, NDP, LIB, CON and all parties should grow up and be genuine - perhaps review, analyze and project this concept to the general public. By finding the answer right there in Wikipedia, the GPI accounts for growth in a country, but measures how the growth has actually helped welfare and environmental protection systems. The Swedes, the dutch, the french, heck even jolly ol' queen mum uses the GPI. The GPI offers a transition from GDP to actually account for welfare (health) and the environment. It offers a solution to truly ensure the population that exists in a country to be accounted for, from lower class right to the upper. Instead of stratification, we become closer to the shape of a circle. But, in full circle, Canada refuses to employ this calculation in the Country's strength - Canada attempted (but not adapted) the ESDI - an initiative cleverly disguised with the words Environment and Sustainable Development Indicators to match the principles of the GPI - but at the behest of the MPs and the CON, the ESDI was never tabled again as we continued to focus on GDP and debt payback.

Domesticated and Produced
On the threshold of the global turmoil, our leaders pander the motions of a great actor - miming the monkey's movements, these Stools act political strategies and lobby for the support of like minded corporate stools who live in a world of consumerism and GDP growth. We need to wake up and realize that growth is not sustainable in a developed nation. Growth and development lead to independence, and Canada is currently an independent nation - the leadership should focus internally into our National structure - Energy, Health, Environment and Safety - all with the mind of ESDI, GPI, SRDC and whatever acronym we can think of that begins focus our attention to our real neighbours in this country - we're experiencing brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, sons, daughters and neighbours all caught in the plight of our government's reluctance to give up the reigns on consumerism and GDP growth. We've all grown up and peaked on consumerism, environmentalism, capitalism, communism, fascism, absurdism, optimism, pessimism, fanaticism, geocentrism and all the isms that accompany it. Growth cannot occur in our age - we've overpopulated ourselves - GDP strength translates into slavery and fascism in some form - whether it be being stuck in debt for your entire trip around the sun and 700 moons sightings - or whether it be restricting a developing nation from ever truly developing - the GDP cannot work in our global technological age of education. We must find the right solution - or we'll watch the anarchic nature of human beings really attack. The acronyms won't save us then...

Doped and Rotten

2009-03-16T20:59:00.000-07:00

It was a few years back that my experimentation into the world of wonders began - the Mad Hatter found his invitation to the Tea Party buried underneath a few still life renditions of my dream's inner dance - this time by chemically altering pathways for the reuptake of serotonin - the sensation was euphoric. At the time, I had no idea what I had done to my brain, and how the hell I had rewarded it with the experience of a lifetime. My previous view of the world had been scarred up to this point, as reality had reared it's ugly head and I realized that the romp of the regulations, rules, restrictions, roadbumps, recycled ideas, rotten garbage and ruined castles were overwhelming. But at this one point in time, and at that moment, for no apparent reason, my shoulders had goosebumps, and I somehow found a way to feel my consciousness - I peaked.

I then grew, and continued to wonder - how the hell did my brain alter reality so much, that inanimate objects suddenly seemed sensatiable, that waves of music seemed to bounce of rays of light, and that self enlightenment was only a phone call away. To find a mind-altering state-of being, whether they be synthesized or not, will always fascinate human beings, so long as the mystery of life and death remains locked up in our minds.

Smoked Up

The greatest religious plight facing the 21st century is this space race: to define our existence. The Christians believe they've been able to define our existence - and for 2000 years they've waited in silent prayer hoping for the Lord's return - and for 2000 years he has left each and every one of us unanswered, except in our hearts, of course - our existence is to wait for His word. The Scientologists, well, they've defined us from beyond the stars and through the Science Fiction writings of L. Ron - leaving the decription of existence to imaginative excersises of the far depths of the Universe. The Mormons, well, they got their existence from the bottom of a hat. The teachings of Buddha provide the inner search for existence - to feel the souls around you and every single being in conscious thought - the path to Nirvana is only granted once one feel these souls, otherwise, one is trapped in an everlasting search for inner peace - those unenlightened travel for eons until the moment finally exists - existence from within to be without. Existence to the Artist takes on a more physical and expressive approach, and is defined by every paint stroke, every speech and monologue, every still frame projected to express the Self in ways that define existence to be infinite and timeless. And the rest of us, well, we just take drugs.

The search for existence, as I do relate with Buddha, comes from within, but only by looking without - now before this sinks in too deep down the rabbit hole and becomes a philosophical nightmare, I'll dumb it down for myself - everyone of us mindful drones wonders at some point in their life, how did we get here, how do I think? And everyone of us learned from our childhood education that birds and bees chirp at each other, and after a few wet tingles and euphoric sensations, a baby is born. Simple answer, simple question. This answer, however, is often a linear one, and the question is not one of linearity, the question of life and death has 360 degrees of answers, a full circle of determination. And that is something we just don't quite know yet - we don't know our own brains.

Injected

If we examine existence in two measures, left or right, right and wrong, black and white, big or small, fat and skinny, we limit ourselves to only two paths for existence - my way or your way. It's like walking up to a fork in the road of a dusty highway, and being left unsure of what to pick. Flip a coin? May as well given the obvious asininity of the connundrum. But often too much, we ignore the infinite other opportunities of the spectrum of the fork, focus the magnifying glass into the fork, and you'll find you can walk right through and into the desert behind the fork into a million pathways - there is never an absolute left or right, right or wrong - we can live in a full 360 degrees of our minds. We can live in any reality or any defined reality of our choices.

My dreams often interpret images into perplexing stories my left brain can't comprehend. It is summarized that the right hemisphere of our brains generates dreams and creative, conscious thoughts. The left side of your hemispherical, or circular brain, controls logic, past and future, memory interpretation, reward and cognitive intellectual thought. The precursors to these pathways of brain waves are the circulation of two chemicals, dopamine and serotonin. Dopamine allows the brain to control the body's mechanical moves, provides precursors for motivation and reward, and balances our sleep, and allows our moods and attention to detail to awaken. Serotonin, balances our emotions, our angers, our aggression, our temperature, our appetite, and our nutrient and energy uptake.

Inhaled

For ranking right and wrong to the path of existence, we all use these chemicals, or drugs, Dopamine and Serotonin. For the cocaine user, the religious plight brings them closer to Nirvana each time, falling into the depths of Dopamine inhibition and the feeling of euphoria. For the Christian, euphoria is reminding to them every Sunday, with Faith-full listeners reminding us every hour of the day - it is almost like a heaven on Earth for them, if it weren't for all the rotten heathens - but the dopamine and serotonin release at the time of prayer and faith is addicting. For the addiction of Heroin, the inhibition of pain provide those teardrops to blissful ignorance, blissful to the point of your brain shutting down the precursors for dopamine and serotonin intake and uptake, and allowing the user to ignore the reality surrounding them. For the Scientologist, the blissful ignorance that everyone else will suffer unless homage is paid to the tetons and meters that read the tetons to have you tested brings the everlasting bliss of complete arrogance - the scientologist will be carried to heaven on a spaceship designed by hyperintelligent beings - scientologists seem to devalue to power of Dopamine and Serotonin to that of a common monkey. For the Mush user, the power of Dopamine and Serotonin becomes their playground, their exploratory cave of mystery and wonder - how does that plant grow - the search for existence to the mushroom user goes outside the body, into the realm of that is not defined by the boundaries of your skin. For the Mormon, skin and boundaries are bountiful, the values instilled from the bottom of the Hat are sincere, but misinterpreted, existence defined by one Smith's brain goes against logic and reasoning of the infinite paths of Dopamine and Serotonin that can exist in the human brain - circular logic can discount Smith's logic. Logic, to the marijuana user, takes on new meanings, whether tripping to a video game or reading and interpreting things with parts of your brain otherwise left dormant - everything is chill to the marijuana user, and everything tastes good with potato chips to the marijuana user, Dopamine and Serotonin hold hands to the marijuana user.

Withdrawal

So in our ranking scheme for existence, we all trust that our balance of serotonin and dopamine are in full equilibrium, not too much, not too little. Religious trustees ensure that the serotonin and dopamine are used to persuade the brain into blind faith, trust that the next prophet will return to lead us. The faith that reincarnation and resurrection will one day cast a magical spell. In the drug trade, these dopamine and serotonin levels are cast to dance to a different tune, determined to duck and cover chemical precursors to dive and dine on the cerebral regions of our unknown brain. In the tune of the toot, the injection of these mind-altering devices are out of control, we don't often know what it does to our brains, and how dependent it grows on the user, the withdrawals are the reminder that we should not be tinkering with our tinkerbell boxes. As a marijuana user, this type of dance is logical, perceptive and safe - in the world of the crack user, this type of dance is destructive. In the light of the search for existence, we all suffer from the same consequences - why are we here? And we all seem to come up with some type of answer - in all of our 360 degree brains. We all want to find our heaven - perhaps we can find heaven on earth - it may just take a bit of bud, we are all drug users after all, Doped and Rotten.

Broadcasting Hormonic Harmonics

2009-03-08T11:16:00.000-07:00

Framed Up

It wasn't long into my childhood I accepted the fact that my gene pool in nature was blessed, or suppressed, with limitations of my bones' reach and gravitational pull to the moon. The spin around the sun and our moon's wobble around the Earth creates the perpetual motion machine that remains hidden in each and every one of our stem cells, brain cells, mitochondrial magic and nucleotidic narcissism. I've always thought our bones grew to stretch to their potential from the moon's gravity (as evident in my childhood, when I would hang upside down in hopes that Earth's gravity would stretch me out into a giraffe) - but alas, as much as I pried and pulled and stretched and reached, I was bound to the 5'X" frame defined by my X and by my Y.

At the very least, I was blessed with Myles and GH-2. These two buds of broadcasting spread their reach through the FM Frequency q22-q24, home of harmonious sounds of the late '80's and '90's - and allowed their message to be heard by my receptors for a period that had interference from Vedder, Bono and Maynard. To find the station q22-q24, I really didn't have to do too much, X and Y implanted Myles and GH-2 on chromosome-17 of my mutated make-up, so I really didn't have a choice in what I listened to, even if I was on a trip to the Moon with Floyd.

Whigging Out

But blessed that I was that Myles and GH-2 were broadcasting, I grew. My bodily functions raced to catch up and it wasn't until I was into my 3rd decade, 120th trimester, or 360th dance with the moon that I feel grown up. Finally fully developed, and as the ecstasy user would say to his dealer - I've peaked... It's remarkable that at this point in time that I finally feel ready to make unadulterated decisions - decisions that I can truly make for myself. Decisions that aren't the same as my elders, and based on my viewpoint of the world.

One decision I have made, is that it marriage should be illegal for anyone under the age of their 360th dance with the moon. Ok, ok... I understand this type of statement requires some explanation - please continue...

First off, I shouldn't have used the word 'illegal' - this has such an ugly connotation, how about - 'Restricted'. As if by the time your 30 years with the sun, you finally get admission to the nastiest, R-rated movie of your life, one that lasts forever and that you've dedicated your whole 30 years to finding... X-Rated scenes will be optional (lights on or off) while the decision will be made, with the obvious recognition that the price of admission to the theater will go up 33%, to make a shift to a G-rated and PG-13 lifestyle... We should restrict the age of being admitted to the circus of marriage to those of the age of 30 and over.

Hormonic Balance

Of course, special circumstances need to be allowed, for example, if you are lucky enough to find everything that you wish for before the age of 360 moons. At this point in time, you may have been with your mate for a period of time, and the decision has been made to procreate, or adopt, in the special case of mutual sex mate matching. If this decision is made (or has been made in those that don't adopt policies of birth control) the applicants will a) file for certificate #62-&%D-314-C at their local municipal offices and b) wait for approval... wait for approval (insert cold feet here) c) before you can say 'I Missed My Period', you'll find yourself planning the celebration of a lifetime - your wedding day.

Vasopressin

Now one caveat to the misery I've explained - Al Bundy needs to explain a few things why life with Peg was such a nightmare... The restriction of marriage until your 30 means that individuals need to accept the fact that human beings may not be fully developed until the age appropriation. With that in mind, we are still adolescents under the age of 30 (and I do apologize for those of you that are more mature than others in this instance) - our brains may not have fully developed and peaked, and we may not know the in's and out's and birds and bees to their full extent. We need an educator, or a doctor, or a therapist, or a counsellor. Once a moon shake, that's all I ask. Once in a blue moon, once in a moon's smile, once in a few moon, once in a moon's while... we go to ask a counsellor, what we are getting into. This restriction must be made to only those with underdeveloped brains, or those under the age of thirty. The price of admission will be equal to the price of underaged marriage.

i.e. 1 year of marriage counselling = 12 visits;

cost of said visits = $1200 (or $100 an hour, or cost of marriage certificate);

the everlasting image of divorce rates below 60% - Priceless...

New Harmony in Wabash

The prospect of love and marriage will always be marred by the broadcast of growth hormones, pheromones and the hematomic state that humans exhibit before the age of 30. I know this because I used to be irrational. I used to have an underdeveloped brain. Now that it's peaked, I can only guess that it is downhill from here. Saggy bottoms and saggy tops - gravity pulling me back down to the earth. The moon has shone 360 times in my life - and has stretched my body and mind to it's full potential. A full circle of life. I now start the circle of life back down to the earth - back to an eternal resting point. I'm having a midlife crisis, Myles and GH-2 are about to turn off their broadcast - time to buy a Porsche.

Attack of the Acronyms

2009-03-06T07:06:00.000-08:00

POLISCI 101

Science has sculpted the greatest minds into the chapters of everlasting art. Where would DaVinci be without the ever-curious persistence to wonder? Science panders to the lost search for the holy grail, the meaning of life with Brian that Monty Python had resolved to determined - science is what makes us tick. A dedication to science could bring prosperity, formulas and everlasting ignorance - a virtue so true that DaVinci's Code itself could not piece together... Policy development and rule for the purpose of controlling individuals, could be argued, is a science of it's own - this code is so uncrackable that the vast majority of us have no idea what it takes to be a political scientist. These scientist do not require vast studies of differential math nor integrated equations, they do not require courses in biological genetic soup or organically grown chemistry - or even need to be faced with the simple equation E=mcc. A scientist dedicated to an art degree devoid of science - how paradoxical... The critical nature of my stance is quenched when I understand the art of political science is actually balanced with equations and numbers, economies and integers - real life people hiding behind their fine mahogany bookshelf - interpretations of the Law and Politics - who wouldn't want a 6-figure job and pension plan set for 15 years?

IQ Test - 24 H in a D

Determining intelligence has become a fine art of political science on it's own. Through categorization and sometime brilliant conception, an IQ test, in SAT, GED, STD or ABC, can mean strong acid test, gallon equivalent dry weight, standard temperature density or alpha beta gamma to the scientific mind, or stupid aptitude test, grade eleven dysfunction, story time dud or a b c to others... the story can be interpreted in an infinite number of ways as each passing neuron blazes across the electric field - stupid is as stupid does play a mighty fine banjo tune every once and awhile...

IQ tests can grow to be more complex or simple, ranging from either yes/no answers, to complex analysis of images and blot tests - all in an effort to map the wide-ranging human brain into a category of smart or not-so-smart. As the political science enthusiasts can attest, most civilians can be categorized into labour, trade, supervisory, managerial, executive or drone... As we march to the beating drums of the GDP, we bask in the prosperity of competitiveness and pleasure - our Guanine is bigger than your Cytosine... It is only during periods of unrest and disruption of the beating drum that will wake up our Cabet's and Montaigne's. Political scientists scheme political plays ready for the Broadway show displaying all the Mona Lisa's smiles and sorrows... The political player's personality profile can attest to that... DISC and Myers-Briggs would probably shake out some ENTJs in the classroom...

DAC

Duck and Cover?

Data Analysis Console?

Detroit Athletic Club?

Department Appointed Committee?

Dead Art Calligraphy?

Danger and Caution?

Don't Act Cowardly

Dry Activated Carbon?

Letters, words, wishes and wonderments can be interpreted in a wide variety of Cryptics, English was the spoken word of the day, and english won the race... Political science can also be said to be a Masters in English Language - being able to manipulate words to sound just and right - but beware the Straw Man - he hides in shadows of conspiracy....

A Straw Man analogy is one where you take facts, change one fact and argue that the changed fact is your opinion - they alter reality in their words to disguise a hidden truth. MPs mince practices by mouthing putrid miming practices while mystifying the people that music was invented by god... The Straw Man analogy involved a great true north MP saying more birds are killed by cats and buildings than are by black bubbling biscuit tar ponds of the great true north. The MP said this as if an undergraduate political scientist researched "How to mince meat with words" and chose to study cat hunting and bird squashing against buildings and published his paper just for the press rehearsal... The MP said that the 500 that were slaughtered were over 10 years, when real environmental scientists researched the numbers to be between 8000 - 100,000 dead ducks and geese and goose and ganders every year - the MP put on his straw man hat and did his best scarecrow impression - it's just too bad that the crow had croaked like the frog in the boreal forest of a lost utopia...

Acronyms bunch us into categories only supplemented by the inner scratchings of our brain to the deep subconsciousness of our dreams. If I dreamt of FW I would see faces of whispered flocks of fairies, floating wistfully while waving feathers to free the worlds' fake walls of fortune's wealth. Acronyms test our IQs and EQs, pushing our minds to decode the inner sanctum of our imagination, while labeling us with our true natured passions, NRA, GOP, MSN, NBC.

The creator of acronyms can weave wires of fabric across the plains of the purchaser in order to mask the true tableau of tapestry beneath the shattered surface. And when the waves of wire ripple in such a fashion that tear the teardrops of the duct work and drains down to the dirt of the bare earth and monkey spit, the cretins will emerge from the cracks and creases to ride the Ferris wheel for one last trip as the cicadas search aimlessly for a quick romp. It's only when the crevices are created so large, that the log cabins are washed out in the soil, flooding the streets of the insects and creating mass havoc and chaos to centipedes and gray billed ducks who eat the grubs. All for a quick buck and a lay...

To act before you think will always leave you on the toilet, head down in the worst pain regurgitating the lost words of a million monkeys... Impatience will kill us all...

Borneo

2009-03-05T13:18:00.000-08:00

Primordial Soup

2009-03-04T08:40:00.000-08:00

250 mL Lake Stew* (*lake stew prepared 2-18 years)

Diving into a lake can bring many consequences, you could go head first, risking the elastic support of your bottom to break tension and fly off into the great depths of the water, leaving you to your birthday suit and a new shade of red - or alternatively, you could go feet first, and risk the ever-so painful lake-diving-wedgie, like the pieces of material of your bottom are diving head first into areas of your body not so kind. Irregardless, two choices immediately present themselves in lake diving. But, you must first prepare yourself with proper stretching and a suitable location (I do not recommend locations with rocky bottoms or shallow waters, for you folks out there that already reduced your IQs in doing so). A favorite location of mine as a child was this lake that floated kilometer-long log-bridges. You could walk halfway through to Kathmandu it seemed at times, but the platform gave opportunities for diving, swimming, floating, laying, and the odd log-battle supreme - where either kid does his best imitation of a log-roller in competition at the great lumberjack convention.

2 pinches BBQ - 1 dash wasabi

I quite enjoyed those times as a kid - good environment, a heck of a lot of freedom and genetic make-up to make my short frame provide low-gravitational centrifugal forces that would rival even the greatest lumberjack in log rolling olympics. I was spliced from two varied gene pools - I'm a mixed race, to be stereotypical. One born from the Far East, one born from the Far West. Brute brunt and sockless sandals - childhood brought it all - forming a Wolverine of black stripes and perfect toes. My mutated family of X-Men didn't really produce any superpowers, but at times, staring off into the forest at my doorsteps, i'd think radiative superpowers are bullshit - Asterix is the superhero of choice - protector of the Gaul against the Roman Empire with his trusty sidekick Obelix and Dogmatix. Yes, childhood was fun - imaginative and too short.

But my ever-changing body brought puberty - the awkward spurt of cell growth that changed my body, introduced me to shaving and pushed me into the world of Don Juan. It was inevitable, my genetic soup of cells and solar soaking was breaking through - i grew up. But then again who isn't predisposed to the same tale of growth? We're all the same monkeys typing on the the same typewriter at this point - aren't we?

Repeat steps 1-22 with Crosses and Tees

Genetic make-up of chromosomes, nucleotides, chromatin, adenine, guanine, thymine, cytosine shook me out of my childhood. When I finally discovered and understood the great magician's work of chemical structure and natural selection through the magic and dance of the common fruit fly, eye colour, wing structure and leg prints, I was enlightened. No more voodoo curses on me - no more hell or heaven - no more sticks and stones - they won't break my bones - genetics opened the door. And what a door it opened....

The X-Y chromosomes determines if an adam or an eve are created - with eve taking two XXs and adam lifting a leg and taking a XY. I got my X chromosome from my mom, everyone human has this in common, at the very least. The surface of my empty canvas was then blanketed with sculptures and structure, beating to the codon's pulse, my egg and my seed were intertwined and commingled to spin a vast web of wild and weird songs, but always abiding to the magical tune to the circle of fifths, until the canvas' far stretch reached 23 pairs, XY and 1-22, these chromosomal Cro-Magnon mixing nucleotides and genes - fit perfect to a Levi 501 - red label.

Cook on high in microwave for 85 years

The human genome project battles on, tracing the roots of evolutionary genius to the cause of it all - our murky mutated make-up of primordial goop. As almost scripted from the tales of Wolverine and Professor Xavier, the radiative forces of the sun mutates us into these creatures of habit, routine, curiosity and hunger. Our bodies process the garbage we shove into our faces, while the brain is a mindless zombie to the true contents of their nature. However, the genomic nature of the industries that spawn genetically enhanced pollen and price-tags has created a viral infection in our nervous system and digestive tracts - they are poisoning our pollens. They have spliced, they have diced, they have sliced and they have genetic-sized the Big Stack - a burger so scrumpulous, you can taste the nicotine modifying your taste buds, the Splamato - a spliced nature of tomato and fish herring and the WaterFellon - a water mellon married to a fellon - and looks like a prison cube with it's stripes (and of course those three examples are purely my imaginative child drawing pictures).

Let Simmer and Enjoy

I am guilty of a little hypocrisy here - as much as I search and prod, I'm not a dietician to my body - sometimes I will literally eat filth - garbage - trash - refuse... well that may be an exageration, but my grocery store does not offer education on what I am eating - it's not there - i'm a blind sheep needing a shepherd at this point in my grocery store - I sure do hope my grocery store isn't blind as well - the blind leading the blind will only lead to a few knocked heads, bruised egos, and Chief Wiggum confiscating our glaucoma medicine.

One thing I am dying to do in my life is to eat Bread Fruit - a Polynesian delight of fruit and food - a staple of diet for 3000 years. To my knowledge, this fruit is being popularized across the world, unaltered, unfabricated, un-stamped from the label of GMO. I'd like to stamp GMO on everything in the world at this point, with the exception of the Bread Fruit, Sunchokes and bacon... mmm... bacon... this little piggy's gotta go off to the store... I hope I find a choice of diving head first into the pool, or feet first - the consequence of these actions could prove to be dire - I have no idea what my genes may do to me if they are radiated with mutation - I sure do hope Professor Xavier was fictitious - there's no way we can hold off that many X-Men.

Faces melting like wax in the heat. People dying like dogs in the street. And love is a word in the sand, that a wave wipes away with her hand, and the ocean just don't understand. So here's hoping we find, some asylum to hold up inside, a place which is not so unkind. Someday, somewhere down the line, a place to be free in our mind, a world which is not so unkind - A Place Not So Unkind, Firewater Lyrics

Scripted

2009-03-03T10:49:00.000-08:00

ACT I - Scene IV - Song Birds

I'm looking at a sculpture and wondering why a princess would look so mysterious when holding a singing bird in it's hands... it puzzles me - art is just like politics. But what the true nature of politics, as I have observed shows me, is that you can mimic the songbird all you want, but as long as you keep whistling the tune that you know so well over and over again, the blissful nature of your ignorance will always shine. Politics doesn't change, art is forever moving.

Art can be expressed as an action, as an actor, or the political actor. One that takes cues and can't and continues on with the press rehersals, concerts and conferences. The role of an actor is to shine, to be happy, defiant, vigilant and sad - background checks that the act is fulfilled with noble Law and he is virtuous to the right lord. We've found our mime!

The Denouement

A Minister is a title only befit to a true man of the Lord. The role sparks leaders into debate, like the soft spoken but often reflective Dion, while the true title can vault a career into acting or politics. The smiles and the cameras and the action. But as Minister, possessing the background of a science, an understanding of the climate, and a knowledge of it's poisons would not be necessary, the lord would not cast down any of these plagues on this watch... we're only here for 4 years and the pension... As Minister, words of legaleeze and sleeze of pandering to potential solutions are still necessary - but there are many takes in this scene - you don't need to get your act straight right away. But at some point, if the act is not perfect, the Minister can stir the nature of the cauldron and take thimbles and pinches and dashes of brilliance, waiting for the bubble in the bouillon to boil long enough, just so the recipe can be savoured a little longer.

Webcast

There was this website back when the internet fad started - Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon. An interesting experiment in networking and connections. You would type any actor name, and poof! Kevin Bacon would be within 6 movie credits of your search - it was truly time killing as any good procrastinator would enjoy. I do doubt today that website would still be valid - what with 'B-movies', 'Bollywood', 'Indie Films' and 'Searchlight', Kevin's a lost dinosaur with a receding hairline at this point. Six Degrees of Separation. Am I truly that far away from a great actor or politician?

Internet Interference

The web's gone haywire. Posts, blogs, edits, stories, news, sports, mtv, abc, paris, hilton, search, google, carbon, headlines, lowlines, widgets, wabbits, wascals and wiggle wammles, we all soak it in. We don't mean to, but to have information at our fingertips is leading the web wevolution. There was the dotcom boom of the 2000's, however as we approach the next decade, the web continues to grow, and be the reliable source of media. Too bad all booms didn't blast off like this balloon... the bubble was just a blip in the radar, the bump in the road, the basic principles of supply and demand restored.

The supply that is not longer in demand that the great true north faces is at the forefront of the pages on the web. Actors reaching out to compatriotic brethren to see their leadership. The script constantly changes, and improvisation is not a lost art on these well groomed greeters - but the headlines - just imagine front page news for the opening act! Smile, brush your teeth and comb your hair - mom's instill the best advice.

Ohhhhhh Kæeeeeeenədəəəəəəəəə

2009-03-02T08:44:00.000-08:00

Our Home and Native Land

Archaeological evidence suggests humans began populating the Yukon approximately 26,500 years from today. Drenched in dried seal and fox furs, these nomads most likely drew south upon tiring of the harsh winters, and most gladly discovered the southern regions, with evidence suggesting Ontario a likely settling ground some 950 decades ago. As Utopias continued to be discovered, the nomads turned to settling. Finding havens of great caribou migrations and free flowing rivers... The Natives were Home - Our Land.

True Patriot Love in All Thy Sons Command

The catholic reach of the first Europeans first began finding paydirt and plunder by the Purple People Eaters some 40 generations back - built by broad boards and bosomed backs, more soon followed, but this time by blessed, baptized servants of the King or Queen - true patriots of love commanded by the Fatherland or Motherland as if the son was truly blessed. Cabot, Cartier, de Champlain all paid homage to Our Home and Native's Land in the Parks.

With Glowing Hearts We See The Rise

"sacre bleu! L'Anglais, l'Anglais!!! Stupid tete de merde - ne savant rien de nos reglement - savages...."

The 7 year war lasted 7 years. The British Empire were in stark embattlement with the French and various American Indian, or Natives who called the Land Home. In 1763, the Treaty of Paris was proclaimed. In the treaty, Marquis de Vaudreuil surrendered control of all the lands to the British Empire. Through dominance and tales of prosperity, the British Empire grew - and the Native's Lands were no longer theirs - they sought refuge where they could, and where they couldn't, they were sacrificed to the British Gods - as if the Mayans taught the Spanish, British and all inquisitors a valuable lesson - take what you want without regard. And even as the concepts of blind greed were being seeded in the minds of the White Man, the Revolution happened - a tale of freedom, of prosperity, and of greed - the United States grew a pair of cojones.

The True North Strong and Free

Confederated in 1867, or as defined by Dictionary.com as to be "united in a league, alliance or conspiracy", the Great True North grew Strong and Free - free from the shackles of Europe, free to roam the vast country and terrain - everybody got a piece of the pie - heck even the de Champlain was granted harvest with a vast northern province. The Country grew, gave graces to the Queen and God and prospered with our kid sister, the Unites States. Honour to the great stories of the Natives grew everywhere - Toronto - Ottawa - Winnipeg - Oshawa...

From Far and Wide We Stand On Guard for Thee

Entering a war must drive even the greatest of leaders into a quarry - what are the benefits - what are the risks - will I need to sacrifice my sons? will the benefit outweigh the guilt on the mother's shoulders? does the milk really taste that sour? When World War I began, from far and wide, we stood on guard for Britain, and when war was declared, we automatically got involved - no questions asked - no guts no glory, no ask no sorry, no details no story, no honour so sorry...

God Keep Our Land Glorious and Free

It was released today that Canada has officially entered into a recession period. And the Bite Bit Hard. As if masking away tales of prosperity with a cheap band-aid, the leaders of this country declared a state of non-emergency in the months of October and November of 2008. Everything was cool, everything was calm, everything was o.k. It is now close to three spins since the shake around the Sun, and the number finally came in. The Great Impervious Country of Canada lost 3.4% of it's drive, it's GDP during the months that the campaigns to elect a leader spoke of prosperity, strength, the tar sands, and the truth. And even during the worst possible month of the year, December, the country hid behind a tale of treachery and trickery that needed the Queen Mum to intervene. The 3.4% translates to $16 billion buck eyed loonies getting caught in the head lights and disappearing. It has also meant that the nation has realized the tattled tales of truth were misleading - the TSX shrank 6% - a sum of money I can't bother to equate - perhaps in the Billions of bubbled buck eyed loonie tunes.

Oh Kaenedah We Stand on Guard for Thee

We're faced with a crunch now - one that some knew were coming, one that the politicians kept denying, and one your mortgage broker kept trying and selling. The Queen isn't coming to save you on this one - keep sucking your thumb and crying - Mum ain't comin. The US has somehow managed to cut the umbilical cord, but then again, it may have been a premature circumcision that caused it to act like a mis-behaven little snot-nosed troublemakers that always steals lighters from the 'adult' tables at picnics... Canada still suckles the teet of the twat, milking its slow decline into the global recession catalyzed by the entropic nature of greed and capitalistic intentions... Does the milk taste sour enough to spit out yet? It may just turn in the next few months... Time to spit... Time to pick a new kool-aid flavour...

I can't believe I can't insert the Canadian Coat of Arms into this homage, the decades-old copywrite is protected by the Crown Corporation.

Impregnating a Planet

2009-03-01T09:55:00.000-08:00

Born from the ashes of stardust and the universal force of gravity, material exposed to the milky way's shakenly abrupt burp found a tip-toin, rootin-tootin dancin pardner - not too square to boogie, these cowboys of rock and plunder collide as they step on each other's toes. Conglomeratting as if being bigger is always better, a cowboy's motto, the clumps of carbonite, crystal and clay collide by enormous proportions, as if the increases in mass were creating their own universal forces - a beautiful thing that is electromagnetism.

Through periods of cooling, of melting, of molting, of seeping, of billowing, and of sleeping - the Earth then stood motionless. Floating in space as only the great astronauts have experienced. Only the ever so slight spin from some mysterious pull of that bright light... The mass and precipitation of the anticipation of its instigation cause explanations of mystery - we can speculate it happened...

Contact
It could be argued that life began when the Earth found it's sister - the Moon. Speculation can only be made on the Moon's beginnings - one prevalent thought is that it burst from the Earth after a magnific collision from an asteroid from the depths of the Pacific. In any case, it is also believed that the Moon was born about 4.53 billion years ago. At this point in time, it could also be argued that the world was flat... Not round, or creviced, or mountainous, or corpulus - the surface of the earth resembled cracks and fissures, but the mountains of our great plains were far from what they are now, they were flat. That was until the Moon began to shine the wonderful presence of the universal force - gravity.

Gravity shone and pulled our masses tight - the waves of our oceans can attest to that. The Moon's ever so slight gravitational pull, relative to both masses and radius from each other - as the apple once whispered to Newton - can create this mystical force of weight fullness... By Newton's Laws, it can be argued that without the Moon - Earth's gravity, we would not know what we know of it today...

Connected
Gravity holds us all here. The Earth beneath us is beckoning for every single piece of matter that belongs to it, from simple toothpick to complex rabbit, it calls for us to stay, it wants us all. Gravity, as Newton's Law explains, pulls large masses towards each other, and as the constant drift of the Moon encircles us, another mass of gravity - the Earth's Core, circles and spins in a constant chaos.

Molten of nickel, silicon, oxygen and iron, at temperatures up to 7500 degrees Celsius, hotter than the surface of the great light, the Core is still. As if gravity cannot come to grip's with it's lost pardner. After the colossal collision with the twinned Sister, the ever so slight pull of the universal force is suddenly present - the Moon appears set to a blanket of stars. Pulling the hot inner fervour of balance and life, the Core begins to spin. Spinning in a tizzy of dizzy twisting chaos, the nickle and iron and oxygen and silicon find a new life - friction - energy suddenly not being able to hold back the true entropic nature of it's intentions - a magma layer shoots forth from the previously barren landscape we used to call home. As the hot shots of pot and kettle boil, the ashes of the stardust burst forth, releasing all the light natured vapours we now call an atmosphere, but it was once known as a toxic dust.

Rocked and Rolled
The first shift in our magnetic poles may have happened at this point in our long history of time. And we owe our magnetic pole to the magical spin of hot iron and nickle. Magnetizing our planet with a spin of hot iron and nickle prevents our inhospitable beating of our sun, and keeps the precious atmosphere of our oxygen intact. We owe everything to the spin, and arguably the moon. Without the spin and the magma, our mountains would not have formed, our tectonics could not shift and our genetic soup would have never had the chance to electrolyze and dance in the stew of our make-up. As the spin continues, so does our Moon - ever so slightly outwards towards the Milky Way.

Spin Up and Spin Down
The Moon is drifting off into the clouds - like Icarus finding the path to the Sun - the Moon, as it escapes to the heavens, will one day lose it's wings and be reduced to nothing but stardust in an cataclysmic collision with another asteroid or planet. Our sister sharing our milky-shake with the way, is moving away from us, at a rate of 4 cm every year. At this rate, if we pull out Newton's rants and illogical definition of Gravity;

Gravity = Gravitational Constant, G (9.81 m/s2) times Mass of Earth (5.97x10^24 kg) times Mass of Moon (7.35 x 10^22) divided by Distance, squared between the two (384,400 km)...

So right now, we exhibit a magical force back and forth from the Moon to our Core and to our Oceans. But if the Moon is drifting away, won't the magical drift of gravity subside? Of course!! If we time travel 1,000,000 years into the future, our Sister will have moved 40,000 km farther away from us, at which point our gravitational pull will be 17% decreased. The math I can prove, the time frame, I won't be able to observe.

De-Positionally Spinning Into Chaos
I think that life on Earth has been created from the spin - without this, we'd be like one of the other rejects in the family, let's say Mars for example. Mars is boring, plain, full of rocks and craters - you don't see Mountains and River valleys on Mars - sure it may have a few caps on it, but the only time Mars attacks is in our dreams. The Earth spins with fervour thanks to the Moon - but if the Moon gives the Earth's spin, and the Moon is drifting, is our rotation slowing? Well, slightly yes - at a rate of 2.2 seconds every 100,000 years.

We currently spin at a rate 465 m/s around the empty universe. It's a tough speed to imagine, but Einstein always thanked his relatives on this one... In 1,000,000 years, we'll be rotating around 22 second slower than we are today, an indication that our speed, our rotational velocity has slowed, or we have decelerated. When a change of acceleration, or deceleration happens, a force, can be calculated. The rotational force lost can be simplified by force equals mass times acceleration. So at the rate we are hitting the brakes, we'll also be generating units of force somewhat equivalent to the force of the Moon's drift - imagine all the mass in the earth on a train, and trying to hit the brakes - it would take infinite amounts of energy, close to the amount that the gravitation pull is losing...

Artificial Insemination
I grew up a Star Trek geek - no not the powdered plastering of words from Shatner, the eloquent pronunciation of Jean-Luc. A show of universe, imagination and peace. I recently wondered - what if I woke up tomorrow and forgot it all, not just the show - everything in my life. Long-term memory wiped clean, as if the paintstrokes of picasso's playground melted off the canvas - how would I think? Instincts would still be basic - thought still there - right and wrong determination predetermined - like something from a brand new seed has been planted - a seed of innocence. Star Trek makes me dream of planet impregnation - to start a planet from scratch - like finding the perfectly sized Moon for Mars - start the spinning of cycling mastery that our Earth currently contains. How would everyone else think if they forgot who they were? Would the Christian believe in the Creator if evolution was preached and practiced? Would things be ultimately different, with all the knowledge out in the world to possess a viewpoint of the open mind? How would that be? If only there were a few Martians living amongst us...

Extra Sensory Interpretations

2009-02-23T11:22:00.000-08:00

At times, I float in the matter of the brain only open to the tiniest cracks of gravitized electrons - my imagination. As if quirks and quarks ride the wave of impulses directing my primitive ape hands to digestively interact with my outside surroundings.

Touch

The human brain is a roadmap that currently mimics the uncharted waters and maps of lost empires - it is almost blank to our interpretation. With it's internal structure and total mass, the mammalian enterprise of evolution sculpted the brain and it's encephalization to organize and control 75 billion neurons to fire synapses back and forth and to and from and right and left and up and down. It's quite obvious how it's quite precious to us, God even blanketed a pocket of mucous membrane to protect our thick skulls from meeting numskulls.

So with all of the amazing power we know the brain to contain, we still find it such a mystery. And the mystery can always be explained and furthered in the 6th Sense - ultraperceptive extrasensorical magic.

Smell

The feeling in my guts when I don't have a good sense of things is usually explained by what I ate the night before - the other day it was ginger beef and salt and pepper squid... But instincts, yes I can admit that I have those - in my definition, are similar to my ethics and principles to determine right and wrong, left and right, up and down, and so on and so forth. I do know that at some point in time, my brain and body functions have an expiry date, I've come to grips with that - however I do like to believe that this amount of time is partly, in my control, through what I eat, what I breathe, and what I do. What I don't believe is that a premonition for-telling my doomsday can be predicted by even the noblest and honest of fortune-tellers - I just don't believe it. I can't explain it any more clearly - it's just horse shit to me. And I'm often not blunt. I do know I rant and rave - and asininity begets bluntness, and vice versa...

Taste

The countdown is now on - less that 4 years away - the tales of the Maya, Einstein and Nostradamus will ruin us all. The premonition of our planet's expiry on December 21, 2012 is an asinine scam. There's that bluntness again...

I can imagine myself back in those days of the great Maya Empire - a simple farmer's son in the warm brisk days of the summer's heap - and close to our God - the Sun. We cherish it as the day's length endures - we obsess with it to keep track of it's keep. We watch it from the skies with the stars in the night. Deep into the stars.

What I can't imagine is that the idea that the Maya Empire were able to discern the centre of the Milky Way Galaxy with no mathematical proof and a simple calendar to go by and pre-tell our destinies are tied to our earth and sun coinciding with the Milky Way. This, to say the least, is a little out in space for my tastes. This premonition would mean that by some magical energetic force from beyond the galaxies, by a measure which our current technologies can't record (but for some reason an ancient civilization could), the universe will unleash an energy beam, flipping our magnetic poles upside down, from up to left, and right to backwards. Everyone better hop on Noah's ark when this happens...

Sight

So the next lesson in asininity is to take data and interpret the data to validate your theory - the Magnetic poles are in a constant dance around the up and down slopes of our earth - they shift. Like the needle of the compass dancing to find true North, the poles move and shake - as if all the mass in the centre of the earth's core is spinning away in constant magmetic, magnificent, movement of magma - the densities shifting ever so slightly to balance beast of beauty's true heart - mother earth. But mother earth wasn't invited to the bard's dance and the prophecies of the scam - the winter winds of 2012 will magically tune our fiddle for this one...

Every once and while, the chaotic spinning will burst from the radial acceleration of gravity, propelling molten magma upwards and beyond - depositing in such ways that mystify our geologists, and for some reason, are interpreted by our psychics to indicate that Noah did indeed save every 2 species on the planet.

"Two things are infinite - the universe and human stupidity; and i'm not sure of the universe" - Albert Einstein

Busy bees buzz - they collect coupons of pollinated pools of cool craniums. Bees fly in an alternate universe of time, being able to dictate, communicate and create a hive of busy bee activity. In doing so, bees also have the capability of pollinate the great plains of the Pacific's eastern playgrounds - from pole to pole, from magnetic shift to magnetic shift. If Bees were to become extinct, as the Great Author Al once wrote, the human population will be dead in 4 years. As if he was truly a magnificent prophet, Big Al is being pushed onto the bandwagon of 2012 - as that in 2008, populations of bees are being mistreated, on a downward spiral to extinction. But then again, Ol' Al lived in a day that pre-dated genetic biological engineering - a type of educated practice that plays God's role...

Sound

If I used a pen name, which I do, I would probably select something cool, like Rotoed Tiller - something off key - something memorable. Michel Nostrad sure did select the right pen name. A man best suited for donning the ass hat beret with a beautifully accessorized manbag - all to play the role of Straw Man - speaking the words of wisdom and prophecy - line up to get your lotto ticket cause i've got the winner right here! He first spoke in words of tongue - quatrains in the Virgilianized syntax. Through fear of persecution - he hid in the Churches alongside queens and mums - with his syntax being broken down with the write of religimous cantanker. And now the Prophecies dictate our doom - 2012, by some magical interpretation of the words of writings.

ESP

I always thought we had 5 senses - smell, touch, sight, hearing and taste. I've recently discovered I can pleasantly consider balance and acceleration a sense, temperature, kinesthetic and pain as senses as well. These all make sense to me - they are senses all connected to the brain and in the body - my outer boundaries of being. When I do think that the brain can be a wonderful playground - I do know when to be grounded - when to be ethical - and I can't sit idly by waiting for a doomsday prophecy to dictate my faith and fate. It's just asininity at work again. Silly bastards...

What a Waste of Skin

2009-02-20T12:19:00.000-08:00

Trailer Park Boys, Mr. Lahey: "You know, he grew up as a little shit-spark from the old shit-flint. And then he turned into a shit-bonfire and then driven by the winds of monumental ignorance, he turned into a raging shit-firestorm. If I get to be married to Barb i'll have total control of Sunnyvale, and then I can unleash a shitnami tidal wave that'll engulf Ricky and extinguish his shit-flames forever. And with any luck, he'll drown in the undershit of that wave. Shit-waves."

Human shit. It's gross to us, it's fecal to us, it's innate to us. Everybody poops. We unfortunately must go through walks of shame, courtesy flushes, launch a watermelon or use the strategic, camo-cough, but it is always in good humor - everyone does it!! Who doesn't enjoy a good fart joke now and then? Fart jokes can be simple and hilarious without not a word spoken - silent and deadly - they can also be dramatic, as if the Heismann Trophy itself was paying homage to the great digestive tract.

Processing

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.

Inputs
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.

Variables
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...

Once the embattled cargo has passed through the gates of glutton, a long, slow voyage through the intestines, both small and large, begins the celebratory capture of the infiltrating alien matter. The fats of our urges, met with bile, while all the nutrients our body craves, heaps mercilessly from the pile by enzymes and transported to through the body to generate our energy. All a seamless masterpiece and homage to the gods in Houston.

Outputs
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...

"Who... even in this whole world, doesn't have problems? Who doesn't have a drink too many times once in a while and maybe even winds up passed out in their own driveway, pissing themselves? Who doesn't drink too much sometimes or who doesn't have a puff from time to time. And who doesn't have problems with the people they love? This is our home. This is our community." - Mr. Lahey

Dungeons and Dragons

2009-02-18T12:30:00.000-08:00

Dungeon Master

As a nation under scrutiny to perform and ride the wave of despair as if on top of a magical unicorn awaits it's first meeting with the new leader of the United States, the billowing clouds of smoke continue to cursively cross cattle country. But these billowing clouds of smoke aren't coming from the industrial paving machine designed to crush, drill, pump and fill - these dusts and particulate matters are from the ever-increasing speed limit of transients departing from the good graces that once were. The wild west is becoming a ghost town. And, as if trying to sweep up all of the crumbs and drips left below the kitchen table under the rug as if Grandma's coming for surprise dust bunny inspection, the vast reserves of black bubbled BBQ sauce is being quickly justified as eco-safe - just waiting for that green seal of approval from good ol' stool. But if look at the subtleties of the attached link, the article's title may be misleading:

"Oilpatch to see new rules on water use - Proposal calls for lower consumption"

To find the hidden clues of misleading writing, we can read between the lines:

"The 10-per-cent limit on fresh water is consistent with the recycle rate currently required in most thermal scheme approvals"

And in fact has been that way for the past 5 years. These new regulations, in fact, have been an 'unwritten-rule' during this period, and the article further explains that existing oilpatch users don't need to abide to the new rules for another 5 years! As if the government said: "here, have this free milkshake, it won't run out for 5 years, and don't worry about cleaning the toilet from the diuretic filth you regurgitate - we won't need to worry about it for 5 years, neither of us are going to be around! Enjoy the party while it lasts boys - ha ha!!!" When you read between these headlines, I quickly came to realize that no conservation is really happening at all! At least not until 2014 - 5 years into the future - I wish I did believe in time travel...

Gnolls

This ploy initiated by a government-run entity has placed a temporary band-aid over our scars - like one of those really cheap imitation-brand Band-Aids with a picture of Mickey Mouse on it. The ones that didn't last 15 minutes until the glue started seeping into the scar tissue, effecting every nerve ending of the sore, until finally the bandaid's gotta be ripped off pulling every hair follicle that gets in it's path. When President Obama arrives, the banners of protest will be reminding him of the compromises of lost leadership - of cowboy country corporate buffoonery. President Obama should drop breadcrumbs towards the parliamentary notices, detailing his policies of limiting executive allowances.

The stools prop us up with some nice stirrups boys, I gotta say... - that saddle there is genuine cowhide leather - polished with the finest snake-oil my black money can buy - only gotta step up and ask for it - that's what a real cowboy does - ain't no one fraid of a cowboy when he's got his holster drawn and all the hands up...

Yeenoghu

In 2006, black biscuit projects brought a total of $14 billion of spending toward chopping, clearing, paving, tamping, pouring, craning, nutting, bolting, welding and facilitating the gross misuse of a resource. In these projects, much moneys are spread out amongst the work force to feed the families, but in these transactions, executives, in the same year, saw their salaries, profits and dreams shoot to beyond the stars. But even to pay out these executives, where did the remaining hundreds of millions to billions of earning go? These millions and billions of dollars were created by the hard working busy bees buzzing away designs, meeting deadlines and realizing dreams - yet at the ceremonial point of worship and divvy of the lion's share in profits, the busy bees were handed gift coupons for a chow-down at the closest cowboy cookhouse - the rest was pulled out of the kitty and handed throughout the hoity-toity world of Robin Hood's dreams. And now that the Sheriff of Nottingham has caught the caped crusader? No one left to steal from the rich? The downturn in the credit crunch has crucified the bubbling burst of the boundaries of bovine country. Moneys are tightly bound, homes are for sale, and bandits are escaping into the night.

Role Playing

If Canada were truly blessed to have an honorouble man in its presence, it should take the time to listen to the man's words. To listen and hear the words of this one man, and to understand how he views how to rebuild a nation in shambles. President Obama has the un-enviable task at hand right now - he's here to listen, understand, think and form an opinion - that is what we should all do as well.

2 Minute Powerplay

2009-02-16T12:31:00.000-08:00

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.

Rules were of course followed, but often confusing - what does the blue line indicate - is this the safe zone? Is this a boundary to which that ducks are shot from? Faceoffs, penalties, delay of games, fighting, injuries - the whole thing fascinated me. That game I witnessed a Russian born player make his best impression of the great Rocket.

Hooking

The great Canadian game spreads throughout the continent of America, filtering through northern parts of Europe. It does seem Canada has extensive roots from Europe, all types can be found in Canada. With that said, Europe has greatly influenced Canada - with the visits from Mum and a Province dedicated to the Fleur-de-Lis. It could be said that Canada takes quite a few queues from the lands of Nomads and Vikings - and I quite often observe the Nomads and Vikings - frontier pioneers of savage romanticism.

Cross Checking

In today's society, Europe is currently undergoing a so-called 'face-lift' - decades removed from inhumane atrocities, the countries have banned together to form a Union. A European Union with their own currency and platform to enter a new age of renewability. By 2020, the EU plans to have 20% of it's energy supply generated through renewable measures. All this in an effort to curb the use of fossil fuels.

It has recently been announced that the newly voter-appointed leader of the United States will provide measures to, in essence, mimic the leadership of the EU, indicating a desire to reduce the U.S. reliance on foreign oil, or dirty oil. This measure of reducing the use of dirty oil has put a target directly at the vast reserves of the great canadian oil sands, which are estimated to be second only to the crude oil reserves in Saudi Arabia. I've always wondered though, if there are oil sands in Canada - could there not be oil sands in Saudi Arabia as well - perhaps the light crude nature of the oil in the Middle East does not warrant the exploration of heavier crudes similar to the sticky nature of bidumen. But in the heat of the moment, Canada pumped and expanded, employing the nation's workforce from Newfoundland to Vancouver Island - extracting vigourously the black soup of prosperity. From 2003 and beyond the Oil Sands created a craze - another bubble floating up to the surface expanding and soaking up everything in it's path - hopes, homes, policemen, politicians, physicians and philanthropists. Moneys were abound and GDP growth was bursting.

10 Minute Misconduct

So it is currently getting to be 2 moons past since the shake around the sun, and the U.S. and the EU are frontiering ahead with the path to renewability. But Canada seems to be lagging behind - as if stool's got a hand in keeping the faltering black tars stuck to the bottom of his boots. If we focus the microscope into the boundaries of the blue lines, the best hunting grounds for black-billed ducks, the cowboy conservative cattle country of canada continuously caters to a chorus of cowardly cautious corporate stools. In all the midst and glory that were the oil sands, some bailouts reached the underfunded. In all the glory of nader and the bounty of his keep, the surpluses will be turned back to whence they came - back into the dirty oil, and much of this dirty oil bailout money is being distributed to small oil - or better yet, small oil that branched off from big oil - small time executive sharks preying on the scraps of meat thrown their way...

Neutral Zone Infraction

The issue with getting the black shit off the bottom of your boots is that it sticks. It gets everywhere to your hair and socks. It takes scrubbing and scrubbing to get it clean, or it takes steam to wash it away. The average CO2 emission factor to wash it and pump it up to our fast-paced lives is approximately 55 kg CO2 for each barrel of black bouillon. So that means it's planned production by 2020, a forest 6,000,000 trees would need to soak up the billowing clouds of carbon - but to proliferate the profit of black gold, the trees are being slaughtered. The stools and sharks may claim that costs are too high to capture carbon. But for all the negative carbon benefit, for all the negative market prices and for all the negative executive bonuses, why is the bailout supporting a black goop of shit that can't be used for anything? THIS DIRTY OIL IS PRINTING DIRTY MONEY AND THE BLACK DIRT ON MY BOOTS WON'T FRIGGIN COME OFF!!!

Icing

I like the idea of renewability. A frontier of renewability is happening, albeit slowly. The Bullfrog Power concept is one that is reasonably situated in two frontiers of Canada. Perhaps the peasants across the nation can climb onto this bandwagon like the Stanley Cup is coming to town...

Wolves in Sheep's Clothing

2009-02-15T15:45:00.000-08:00

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.

Ancient Civilization

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…

Across Canada

2009-02-14T08:03:00.000-08:00

Music - The National - Secret Meeting