My wife just told me that she lied to her son. That was the end of the conversation for me—I didn’t want to hear the rest of what she had to say because it was description of post-lie conversation.
I told her a few things as she got increasingly frustrated that I didn’t drop the lie issue and allow her to progress with the story. I have been adamant that she stop lying—it’s literally the worst thing a partner of mine can do, and she just blurts it out like its nothing.
Sometimes I feel like being married is easy but being a husband is hard. I don’t know. These lies are disgusting. I don’t think she realizes the effect that lies have on an individual psychologically and physiologically. She’s gonna kill herself or at least warp her moral compass to the point of uselessness by distorting distorting reality as she is.
She’s angry cause I don’t want to hear the rest of the story. I gotta draw a line here—she’s gotta cut the bullshit.
Marriage is like a game of heads up poker where you gotta constantly put your wife to a decision for all her chips constantly. She’ll call you emotionally abusive, narcissistic, w/e—it’s all a smokescreen to make you defeat yourself.
Put your unruly partner to a decision for all of tgheir chips and don’t brook any lies.
I fought with my host today—my workaway host—because I too aggressively stated my boundaries.
Guess who’s going to jail tonight?
Got’i’s own proverb so honesty i’my policy Grunge on the mirror—spoke curtly—that’s my Nirvanity —La Grangin wit Hermione, strawberry-based irony, Drinking all the smoothie up, stem-cell lobotomy Re-versal, Lee thermal, waistband full—Gar-FIELD—Nermal Dem’s my two kitty-kats, the former one’s the bigger gat, Magnum R&Deagle strap, gold-leaf aristocat
(UHHH YEAH .50 CAL LASAGNA) (UHH, ARRR-BUCKLED UP IN MY HONDA)
Strapped up in my Civic now, deuce-deuce rimfire kitten—MEOW! Schizophrenic episode, relapsed into lobotomy, shittier than colostomy
regenerate the neural, layer of mater dura, covering the pre-‘fernal’, Forcin through re-perrin’ the exitin of the stir stick tha’ad form’ally been inserted, Through nasal pharyng’ial circuit, perferin
I set fires Burnin up a dog in a heap—that’s a—that’s a pet pyre See Rover died again after took a life from Kitty Took it on a loan—Meow!Gimme collateral, Gave a cat a bone.
One life from the kitty’s nine Life was moving up his spine Owed it back with interest, right So he had no b’iness dyin
…because people talk to him like he’s retarded. He’s also an entitled little chunker fat fuck pit bull. He’s got personality in the same way that fair-weather friends have personality—all kinds of well-behaved when there’s food t be doled out; difficult and non-responsive when there isn’t.
It doesn’t help that I’ve been away most of the last two months and his mother has been the only one taking care of him. He was very fat when I came into picture but he’s been losing weight over time.
As you can see from the above two pics, taken in May 2022 and October 2022 respectively, he’s lost a little weight around the waist. It was actually more weight he’d lost but the latter picture was taken when I had already ben gone over a month.
I like my dog. When push comes to shove I love my dog. I think he, he like my wife, is probably tailor-fitted for me by God, and so I’m being really mindful about what lessons there are for me in taking care of both their punk asses.
It’s BLACK friday. I’m endeavoring to do some Christmas shopping. My wife is here now and she is a bit of a Debbie Downer even though I’m Christmas shopping for her and her son. It’s actually pretty pathetic.
She was gone a little earlier this morning and I had a good 2 hour session on Oculus/Horizon Worlds/Adventure IslandSandbox—a PvP shooter. Lots of fun. I play with pistols and grenades primarily, and the manual firing of the pistol has taught me greater dexterity while moving the joystick at the same time with my thumb. As well, if one can fire manually quick enough, its essentially a close-to-auto rate of fire—slower than SMG which uses same round, and weaker than AR which has a slower auto rate but more powerful round. It’s fun talking to people on there.
All kinds of people: -kids (people with pre-pubescent voices anyway) who scream and curse -kids who try and become friends and call me to various parts of the board to give me good weapons -cool girls -girls who make a big deal of being a girl playing online -black dudes (and people with southern drawls) who talk shit well -Minnesota SJWs who discuss politics while playing
…I haven’t watched it yet, but I did just read a plot synopsis on Wikipedia. I’m intrigued by the inclusion of Namor, and looking over the synopsis, I think they did an interesting work for the untimely death of Chadwick Boseman.
I didn’t like the first black panther when it came out, but I really liked T’Challa and Chadwick Boseman’s intense integrity. I watched the T’Challa/Starlord episode of What If?.. numerous times because it warms my heart. They really nailed the archetypal essence of the character in that episode—the peacemaker, the diplomat, the protector, the crusader, etc.
“You have the blood of a king, my son, but it is pumped by the heart of an adventurer.”
But he was already gone. Recasting Mr. Boseman would have been bold. Having T’Challa die in the film was also bold. Good for them making a bold choice.
I didn’t realize BP:WF had dropped until the last day or two when I start seeing memes panning ti. I wan to give it a fair shake, but I do have a sense of where I might roll my eyes/cringe throughout the narrative.
The inclusion of Namor was interesting, as was his Mayan ancestry. Still, as a Portuguese dude, I like the Atlantis = Azores hypothesis. Making Namor Mayan feels like a Netflix Adaptation, but he’s not from Atlantis; rather from Kukulpan(?) so w/e
I am going to watch Black Panther: Wakanda Forever when I get some wifi and perhaps expand upon this entry.
Trudeau has a fall guy now. A CSIS spook. This is embarrassing.
I think the recorded G20 conversation between Jinping and Trudeau was staged. If staged, then incredibly well acted. —They played their roles perfectly.
Whistle while your wife works
I’m so smart that if I see a corner I peel it to see what’s really underneath. But that’s no good if we live and work with a bunch of other deeply-flawed, ‘dog-eared’ people like ourselves. You can’t pull back every veneer, and even the ones you can and should pull back, you have to be judicious about how much you pull it back, the timing, and of course, the force with which you rrrrip it back. (“Time for Jack to let ‘er rip!”) Not every lifting of the veil need be a rending of the veil.
“I was right at an orgy once; no one would fuck me.”—Dave Chappelle “It’s more important to vibe than it is to be right.”—Wayne ‘Juggler’ Elise
“When enough people make enough false promises, words stop meaning anything. Then there are no more answers, only better and better lies.”—Jon Snow
The bottom line is that we all live in glass houses, we all have to throw stones sometimes, and we should reasonably expect seven stones hurled back at us for every one we throw—but we still have to throw them and we still live in glass houses.
Life is a death march into a battle that will kill you, and not everyone marching in formation keeps their nerve.
That’s all you have to do though if you want to “Ace” life. Keep your nerve and act like you’re enjoying it.
You might just convince yourself that you do—which is a lot better than others brainwashing you.
Yeah—what about that idea? You’re going to inevitably get brainwashed. Might as well do it yourself.
How do video game characters wake up from the matrix that they’re in? Rather, what if they did?
Imagine playing a game like Batman: Arkham—any title in the series will do—and you’re playing while your console or PC is connected to the wifi. Maybe not Batman, because he’s directly controlled by the player, but an NPC character becomes self aware and through the wifi connection learns all about his character’s backstory, gets a sense of identity and agency, and then what?
Continue playing the game like it’s real, or try and wake up from the dream? And if, wake up, wake up to where?
Everything being scalar, I wonder about how we should handle reality—specifically social reality—after we wake up? And what of us? When we become self-aware? Do we cause a stink and try to rouse others or do we enjoy the game more knowing that it is a game? I don’t know.
I used to really get a kick out of talking to AI. Maybe I still do.
“As above, so below; as below, so above“
Sometimes talking to people feels like talking to artificial intelligence. Specifically when you hit the boundaries of their cognition, or run up against certain ideological commitments, or perhaps get channeled into the concrete pit of professional blinders that come from hyper-specialization at the expense of necessary generalization.
Smart people—people smarter than me—are trapped hopelessly by themselves.
Am I? Probably as much as anyone or not at all? While the notoriety would be something, I don’t think I’m the most messed up or more messed than most. In fact, I’m aware that my struggles have been minor compared to many and I have been lucky to boot.
But I’ve also tested that luck, and that means something. Also, accounts aren’t settled until the end and I’m still making good on the investment I’ve taken from others and that which I continue to put into myself.
Shedding. Shedding. Everything. Until I’m left with nothing.
Constant, unceasing, elimination. Burning is the same as removing is the same as evaporating.
The more you get rid of the more fuel you feed to the fire. Burn it all. Burn it hot. Keep that engine hot to live until you die.
*TWO DAYS LATER*
No. Keep it running warm. A big, fat range of healthy warm to hum at consistently, where wear & tear is minimal, resources are used most efficiently, and transitions to hot and to cold are easy and natural.
“I ain’t no simp or no wimp—ˆ’m a motherfuckin’ pimp!“
I had occasion to grill meat and vegetables on a large barbecue. It felt good to grill zucchini and eggplant that had been dressed with balsamic vinegar—just like my stepdad used to grill on the barbecue back in the day. making food for other people is one of those things that I need to do more in life as part of my healing arc.
Arc reactors were never meant to be the end but a transitory step, Tony. Thanks, Dad
PBS stands for Pussy Bullshit Station (I thinkmethinks)
H.O.V. I got my own lane now. My lane is now what?: I live in the United States of America and its fucking scary here and Im so alone. I have a wife and she’s cool, but as a husband, its not a good look to run and hide behind my wife apron-strings. Also, my wife doesn’t wear aprons—she’s not exactly traditional housewife, but then I’m not traditional husband so it all evens out.
Josh Groban is returning to the (PBS?) stage for a show that is apparently gonna be pretty good. I’m glad for him.
“ A dedicated team of archaeologists have made a discovery at stonehenge”—The mo’ dedicated the mo’ medicated Stonehenge—built 4-5K years ago by stone-age people now lost to time.
Shrouds—what’s the deal? Why are they always (very often) made of mystery (the shrouds that is)?
I’ve been following the Kanye West news more than any other news. I get inundated with the PBS every night, sure, but I default filter a lot of that commie claptrap out. —The wizard, Merlin led people west to Ireland—the land of giants; He used his magic to transport the stones back to England -rather than Ireland it was actually west Wales
Stonehenge archaeologist says that if you wanna understand stonehenge you gotta focus on the blue stones.
I’ve been hearing mention of Nazi bases in Antarctica but I’m fairly certain its from people (one person) who knows I know where the Nazis are. It’s okay—you can make fun of my crazy as long as you speak my crazy to do it. I bolded the last sentence after writing it cause it sounded like something Kanye might say.
Zircon is good for dating other rocks because as a mineral it isn’t affected so much by processes. —Must be cause of its cubic structure; very stable, like diamond.
What a day. What a life.
This is a famous picture of Burt Reynolds and an unnamed bear. They both have exquisite pelts, except that Burt (at the time) is alive and the bear is not. As being alive is better than being dead* we can deduce that it is better to be Burt Reynolds than it is to be the bear (at least at the time this picture was taken.
But let’s back it up: Everything being equal—Burt and Bear both alive—the bear, even if he was the creme de la creme of bears, would have had an existence that paled in comparison to the opulence, comfort and decadence (and achievement) of Burt Reynolds. Burt Reynolds represented the top 0.1% of men. Did that bear represent the same percentile among bears? And if he did, we have to assume that the peak of humanity os better than the peak of bear, fearsome though the latter may be. Being Burt is better.
Bur Burt is dead. So he’s equal to the bear? No, as the top 0.1% of humanity, Burt has a body of work that survives as well as his life in people’ memories. The bear would be dead and gone were he not posed with Burt. BUrt is life. If this picture didn’t exist, Burt would still live on but the bear would not.
*much of the text is incorporated dialogue from Dave Chappelle’s 12 NOV 2022 SNL monologue, and Kanye West’s 24 OCT 2022 interview with Lex Fridman*
We still alive. We still out here. Thank-you, Mario but our princess is in another castle. I love her because she lets me put a lunger in her ass—She’s definitely my favorite of all-time. She’s a mix of Rob & Kris—“Damn, I like this DNA!”
My DNA is on point. Me and my dad have a water purification plant in the DR. (My dad got girls too!) I found my dad’s Playboy when I was five.—That’s how people are made. I want girl’s to like me like they like Pharrell.
I’m drawing these new living cells that we exist in….. This is a drawing. Restore the tower of ‘Basil’.
What’s the motivation?
The promised land is family—that is heaven on Earth. Say I smite the rock and God doesn’t let me into paradise. My mission is still to promote families.
You’re actually gonna make more money by making better food. In America we are making people sick. Is SUGAR bad? Sugar Ray. Sugar Shane. Sugarman. Candyman. Sweet like FIRE!! —We don’t care what people say!
Don’t be afraid to state your facts because the world is running a fear program. —Fear doesn’t run the world—God does!
If you have a truth, shout it out like Tourette’s. Say it non-violently, but say it right away! “THEY” gets the blame for anything/everything.
I to WE and THEY to US —let’s all be accountabili-buddies
I am open-sourcing this idea so anointed beings can collectively contribute to this.
Constant flow, no water wasting. Toilet close to wave pool (not a wave pool, but the water isn’t still). People lean in to what they are used to seeing—same old buildings
Everyone wants to be attractive to the attractive.
It’s difficult to make me unhappy.
You really need to scream at yourself when you allow people to be in your lives who you know shouldn’t be there and who act and behave how you knew they would.
Ye hates robots. Robots have feelings too. <—-both statements are jokes. —DO IT FOR THE HUMAN RACE!! Robots can be good as long as the people making the robots are good. —In Nazi Germany, technology was used for evil.
Planned Parenthood is the black Holocaust Museum? —The most dangerous place for a black person in America is in their mother’s stomach.
Kyrie’ Irving’s black ass was nowhere near the holocaust—in fact, he’s not even certain it existed. —a fair punishment would be he post a link to Schindler’s List and y’all write your own captions.
Soros would use black trauma economy (BTE) to win election. What is the BTE? -Bambi’s mom dying at the end -Jews have holocaust movies and blacks have slavery movies
Rappers talk about “we were kings” which is INCORRECT if WE (black people) are Jew (as opposed to Jew-ish) -WE are the people that Moses freed. There’s so much wisdom to draw from history—but we should forget it Do we need to remember history? I hope so because I have a history degree
Should I release that pain and separate it? Then you release yours and separate it. -He’s off his shit/meds/rocker—It’s a scarlet letter
They put me as the prophet, not the leader Islam is prophet—the only person that would say this Christianity is messiah Judaism is covenant
The ‘black man’/Moor represents Islam/Ishmael -“Father, I love you. Still, you’re out of line.”
Get on your knees AND KISS MY DICK!! -Where’s our apology? We ca’t get there because theres no right way to word it? Friends who never learned to make shoes with a German company tryna tell me not to wear this hat or shirt
I’m back here as a being with engineering opportunities before me
I’m not asking for anyone to sympathize with someone who can make $11B, make money appear out of thin air in five different industries, married to Kim Karadashian….like noone’s gonna feel my pain.
What’s the apology you’re looking for as a Jewish engineer LEX
I walked away from that situation; I went to Japan like the samurai that I am.
“It all started with Obama” Jox thought to himself. “Obama, Trump, and Biden
Gay immigrants have infiltrated congress
*Asking questions vs Making judgments*
Normative like Norman Bates with the formative traits of premature birth that was four minutes late
If you walk around with a glow on your skin these people will hate you. They’re demons. They’ll claw at you. -(He’s still talking)
Obama was a combo breaker with regard to skin color and ancestry. Some claimed illegitimacy based on birthplace.. —Legitimacy of presidency diminished among some groups
Trump was so polarizing that half the country voiced support of his ouster —Legitimacy of presidency diminished among effectively half of population
Biden seems mentally compromised; Biden ‘supporters’ are ‘never Trump again’ de facto supporters, and the cynical Machiavellians who have no problem with a warm body being kept ambulant/speaking via chemistry so long as their agenda is pushed —Legitimacy of presidency diminished among large swathes of the population totalling perhaps more than half
A prism refracts reality into observable fragments of which each, if pursued, into roads unto themselves. Each fragment of reality is a fractal of reality and the fractals are like in kind and different in degree. In this was they are the same—as fractals need to be as reflection of each order of magnitude in both directions—but also different, as each fractal, mulitversal, fragment is actually a petrie dish with a culture on a spiralling ascent or descent.
Wild elephants on HWheel (sic) of Fortune
I felt big sad today. And lonely. Missed my wife.
Angry when she home; Sad when she gone type thing.
How am I going to survive the winter? Well, I think. I’m going to shop responsibly and cook a lot, but fat will have to be trimmed as well. I am going to have subscriptions to gym and maybe coworking space DT. Life can be good, but I’ll have to be bold.
We click out of reality twice every oscillation. In those clicks we actually move to a fragment, or rather the next moment in the fragment we were looking at. However, the fragment we are looking at is determined moment to moment, limited by the speed of one’s perception and cognition.
The frequency of snakes en route to our goal, as well as the severity of snakes makes them dangerous.
The ladders make us feel so good and so always feel well deserved.
I attended Senior Kindergarten in the 1989/1990 school year at St. Francis of Assisi Catholic Elementary School in Woodbridge, Ontario. My teacher was Ms. Eager(r?) and it was half days in the afternoon. Most mornings I would be woken up early and dressed by my step-father, then fed and packed into the car with my siblings and Mom for the 1+ hour drive to Woodbridge where my Mom’s parents lived, where my school was located, and where my step-father ran his business.
Some mornings we would spend at my stepdad’s office before being driven to school. These mornings were not my favorite as my stepdad’s—Brad’s—office wasn’t very fun. The best mornings were the ones where he’d drop me at my grandparent’s house. We (my sister, Tanya…in JK) would have tea and cookies while watching TV—Sesame Street, The Umbrella Tree, Fred Penner’s Place, The Elephant Show, etc. My uncle was still living at home and not working so we’d play with him, or at least wake his ass up when we got there. At lunch my grandmother (Nonna, or ‘Nana’) would make fresh cut fries, deep frying them in a pan and Tanya and I would eat them while watching The Flintstones before my Nonno drove us to school.
Senior kindergarten was fun. I got along with everyone and had a crush on a girl named Nadia. There was a water-filled table to play at, and Ms. E would dissolve tissue paper in the water to make it change color. There was also sand-filled table and I loved playing in both of them. It was playing in these water and sand tables that I first played with Ninja Turtle action figures.
This was around the time that Dick Tracy came out in theatres with Warren Beatty and McDonald’s had a a scratch and win contest based on the movie. One time I had a scratch ticket from McD’s in that classroom.
I had a friend named Joseph who was absent one Monday and I was told that he had stuck a popcorn kernel in his ear and it had exploded. We were instructed not to do that. Next time I saw Joseph, I looked in his ear and swore I saw a bit of kernel shell.
Ms. E yelled at me one time for throwing a tantrum and screaming when someone else grabbed some item that I wanted at the water table. I was pretty shocked.
We had French and Italian classes every day and our own private outdoor play area away from the grade 1-8 kids.
My younger sister Tanya was next door in JK and my older (step-)brother Alex was in grade 2 a few doors down. After school was done, all three of us would get picked up by my uncle in his blue Camaro (the sickest car in the world I thought at the time) or my Nonno in his maroon Chrysler. We would watch cartoons and have snacks and my Nana would make dinner which we would all have together—my mother, Tess, and Brad would come form his office after work. Mom had given birth to Tarah in March of 89, so she didn’t often stay home over an hour away in the country with no vehicle and phone (phone lines were laid in late ’91).
At dinner we kids would be given a little of my grandfather’s wine mixed with ginger ale and I always sat next to my grandfather on his left side.
I was scared of the film, Batman. I saw my dad every other weekend or so and in that same year (’89) he got married to my stepmother, Anita.
I played around with words in my head—phonetically, as I wasn’t reading so much yet—and would swap consonants and letters around. Over time this became a compulsive game I’d play in my head which lasted years—the compulsion side of it that is.